by M. M. Blake
CHAPTER III.
JEST AND EARNEST.
'That means,' said Ralph de Guader thoughtfully, when Emma had left theroom, '"Let me consult my ghostly counsellor." Who is the Lady Emma'sdirector, Fitzosbern? Is not Father Theodred of Crowland thinealmoner?--he who was the pet of our East Anglian Bishop AEthelmaer, andwho was recommended to thee by thine English-loving uncle of Exeter?'
'That is so,' assented Hereford; but added impatiently, 'I pritheetruce to thy plans and plottings. I am no moonstruck lover, and cannotsubsist on air, however well such unsubstantial fare may suit thyhumour. Here we have ridden a good thirty miles, and talked a candle tothe sconce, and I vow to thee, I had liefer satisfy my hunger than myambition. What boots a fat earldom to a man if he is to die ofstarvation before he gets it?'
De Guader glanced rather contemptuously at his companion, but preparedto follow him.
'Let me have speech with thine almoner this night, nevertheless,' hesaid, 'in my chamber when I retire from the hall. It may make or marour undertaking.'
'As thou wilt,' answered Roger carelessly; 'but thou canst scarceexpect to find the good man in the best of humours if thou hast solittle grace as to waken him up in the dead of night. I warrant me hehas been snug under his coverlet this two hours.'
'I have that to say which will wake him,' said Ralph grimly. 'But of atruth the hours have sped. It would be better, perhaps, to pray thegood father to give me audience with him in the morning, before he seesany other. Wilt thou have such message delivered?'
Earl Roger called a menial and gave the necessary order, and summonedhis armourer, whom he bade to attend his guest, and then wait onhimself; and they retired to their chambers to be unharnessed of theirarmour,--a process requiring aid of hammer and tongs,--and to indulgein the refreshment of the bath, a luxury the Normans loved as dearly asthe Romans.
The hour was not far past nine, and, to our way of thinking, would nothave been late; but the Norman fashion was to begin the day early,dinner being served at nine in the morning, and a second meal onlybeing usual. When a third meal was desired, as on this occasion, it wasinformal, and consisted usually of cold meats, being called _liverie_.
Accordingly, when the two earls met again, clad in the flowing robeswhich replaced their military accoutrements, they had no companions atthe table save a couple of fine bloodhounds, which were pets of theEarl of Hereford, and had invited themselves when they smelt the goodcheer; the Countess of Hereford remaining in her bower, where herhusband had visited her, and delighted her by his unexpected return.
The table was covered with fine linen; tall candles, in goldencandlesticks handsomely wrought, gave light to the scene; and thedishes of gold and silver containing the meats were presented on theknee by pages, whose tunics were embroidered with the Herefordcognisance, gules, a bend azure and a fesse or.
Before commencing their meal, a silver basin containing scented waterwas offered to the earls in which to wash their hands. De Guader calledfor a napkin on which to dry the fingers he had daintily dipped intothe scent, whereat the page opened wide eyes, though he obeyed theorder, for the Norman fashion was to wave the hands in the air tillthey were dry, so that the scent might not be lost, and to wipe them ona cloth was considered Saxon and barbaric.
'I am cultivating English ways, thou seest,' observed the Earl of theEast Angles. 'It is well to begin at once.' Whereat Hereford laughed.
The fare was dainty rather than bountiful. A cold venison pasty, and ayoung heron, larded, roasted, and eaten with ginger, forming the mostimportant dishes; with simnel and wastel cakes, and sundry sweetmeats,and wines rejoicing in the strange names of pigment and moral.
The earls carved for themselves with their daggers, and used neitherforks nor spoons.
Hereford, although he had declared himself in such a famishedcondition, showed no great prowess as a trencherman, but seemed moreinclined to help himself from the wine-cup. He was obviously in anunsettled and irritable mood, while his companion inclined to thetaciturn.
Suddenly Earl Roger exclaimed,--
'By the mass! this meal is not sprightly. Did I not see thy jesterGrillonne amongst thy _meinie_? Send for the rogue and for my Marlette,and let the twain hold a tourney of wit. Though I wager thy knave willwin.'
'If thy sleepy almoner might not be summoned from his slumber to holdconverse on a weighty matter, methinks it is somewhat hard that my poorjester should be called upon to cudgel his wits!' said Ralph. 'But asthou wilt.'
'I'll waken the varlet up with a cup of moral,' answered Hereford; anda few moments later the two fools were introduced, in obedience to hisorder,--Marlette rubbing his eyes and yawning; Grillonne awake andeager-eyed.
Marlette was a poor imbecile, with a heavy face and clumsy figure, whocaused laughter more by the incongruity of his short, puzzle-headedinterjections, than by any real humour in his sayings. But the Earl ofEast Anglia's jester was a born buffoon, who would have made acomfortable living, if not a fortune, in the circus in these days.Little, alert, wiry, his lithe body seemed to be always in motion, andthe bells on his peaked cap rarely ceased to jingle. He was nearlysixty, and his scant white hair, straggling from under his whimsicalheadgear, gave him an elfish look, enhanced by the wizened, wrinkledcountenance beneath it, and his oblique, twinkling eyes. He was aBreton, who had come over in the train of Ralph the Staller's Bretonbride in good King Eadward's days, and he had loved the gentle lady,who was always kind to him, and well pleased to hear him troll Frenchballads when she grew weary of hearing the strange Saxon tongue, andfelt forlorn and homesick. And he had loved her handsome boy, whoinherited her dark face and eagle nose, though not her bright darkeyes, and had followed him back to Brittany, when, for some reason thechroniclers do not report, he had suffered banishment and confiscationof his estates. And he had returned with him when he helped theConqueror to win England. De Guader knew and valued his fidelity, andtook him with him whithersoever he went.
'How now, fool Grillonne!' was the Earl of Hereford's greeting. 'Ipromised to pour out a full cup of moral to wake thee up withal, but itseems thou art by far too much awake already. I had best give two cupsto Marlette here.'
'Nay, good uncle,' cried the jester, 'that would be but sorry sport! Ido but walk in my sleep. Give me the wine, and thou wilt see me in mywaking state.'
The earl signed to a page to pour out a cup of wine, and handed it tohim. He drank it, not hastily, but sipping it, and smacking his lipswith the air of a judge; and when he had drained the cup he turned itbottom upwards. He then performed a series of somersaults from one endof the long banqueting-hall to the other, and finished by springingupon the shoulders of Marlette, standing erect with one foot upon thetable, and the other on his brother fool's neck.
'Ha! Good nuncles, I am like our lord King William astride of twokingdoms!' he cried, waving his bauble as if it were a sceptre, andaping an air of majesty, rendered most ridiculous by his effort to keephis balance on his unequal and, on one side, unsteady footing.
Marlette, astonished and quite at a nonplus, sought only to freehimself from the weight on his shoulder, and with a yell dropped hishalf-empty goblet of wine, and dashed away, leaving the saucy Grillonnesprawling on his back on the table, while the pages sprang forward torescue the dishes, and the bloodhounds snarled in fierce surprise.
'Help, help, good nuncles!' cried the jester. 'Mine island gives me theslip. Ah, well, I'll content myself with the continent! It hath goodcheer upon it.' So saying, he began to help himself to the dainties inhis reach.
The Earl of Hereford burst into a roar of laughter, but the jester'smaster, smiling grimly, bade him beware of unseemly subjects. 'Crownedheads are no fit themes for thy cracks, Sir Fool!' he said.
'Chide me not, my Earl of earls!' replied the jester, who saw that hislord was not seriously displeased. 'I meant no damage or irreverence. Ihave too great a respect for my hide, and would fain save it atanning!' Wherewith he descended from the table with an air of the mostsage gravity, calmly fillin
g his pockets the while with simnels.
'Go to! Thou art an impudent knave!' cried De Guader; and Earl Roger,laughing more heartily than before, pulled out a penny (equal to aboutseventeen shillings and sixpence of our money) and tossed it to him.
'Thou art the prince of fools!' he exclaimed. 'Would I had thee in myfollowing. Thou art of some worth to drive dull care away.'
In explanation of the fool's dangerous jest, we may relate how Williamof Normandy dealt with the Angevins when they dared to remind him thathis mother was the daughter of a tanner, by ornamenting the walls ofAlencon with hides, and shouting '_La Pel! a la Pel!_' in ridicule,when he came to besiege their town. They had formed a _tete-du-pont_ tocover the passage of the river, from which William dislodged them byfilling up the moat with wood and firing it, so that the unfortunateAngevins were surrounded by flames, through which gleamed the swords ofthe mocking Normans, barring their passage to the river beyond. Thehalf-roasted garrison fought with unavailing valour, but twentysurviving for a still worse fate from their relentless foe. Williamordered their hands and feet to be cut off and their eyes to be putout, and despatched an Angevin soldier, who had previously been madeprisoner, and who had witnessed the punishment, to tell the garrisonhow their comrades had fared, and to promise them a similar fate unlessthey surrendered before night. That they might not doubt the veracityof the messenger, he had the hands and feet which had been struck fromthe prisoners put into his mangonels, and shot them on to the walls,which so impressed the townsmen that they surrendered at once.
When the two earls had finished their repast, they retired to theirsleeping chambers; but as Ralph de Guader reached his apartment, he wasmet by the Earl of Hereford's almoner.
'I am come, noble earl, in obedience to thy summons,' he said,'understanding that thy wish was to have speech of me before any other;and I venture to intrude on thee to-night, because the Lady Emma hasdesired me to attend her at daybreak.'
'Ha! just as I expected,' said the earl to himself. 'I thank thee,reverend father,' he replied. 'It is courteous and kind, and my wishwas to have speech with thee to-night, but that I feared to break inupon thy rest. Take me, I pray thee, to thy sanctum, where we may betogether without audience.'
Theodred bowed his assent, and the earl, having dismissed hisattendants, followed the almoner to his private apartment, a small butsnug room in a recess in one of the towers of the castle. In the centrestood a small table bearing a silver crucifix, covered with parchmentsand materials for writing and illuminating, a page of an unfinishedmissal lying on the writing-desk, and showing what the occupant's lastbusiness had been.
Father Theodred offered to the earl the carved settle which stoodbefore his writing-desk, and De Guader sank into it with a sigh, andfor a time was silent. Theodred, meanwhile, acceding with rare delicacyto his guest's mood, turned to a corner of the room in which was fittedup a small shrine of the Virgin, and busied himself by trimming thelittle lamp of oil which burned before it perpetually.
He was a man of about fifty years of age, strongly built, and of thevery fair complexion characteristic of the Anglo-Danes, the ring ofhair upon his tonsured head being lighter in colour than the shavencrown, with a ruddy, healthy face, and kind, frank blue eyes.
'Thine occupation, father, reminds me that I am the guest of a holyman,' said the earl, as the almoner turned to him again. 'I pritheegive me thy blessing.'
'Thou hast it, my son,' answered the priest, extending his hands andmaking the sign of the cross over Ralph's bent head, and murmuring abenediction.
'Thou sayest,' Ralph began, after a time, 'that the Lady Emma hasexpressed her desire to consult thee. The matter on which she desiresthy guidance is one of some weight.'
Theodred seated himself on a wooden stool at a short distance from theearl.
'Doubtless the matter on which the noble Earl of East Anglia wouldconsult me is one of importance also?' he said.
'The matter on which we twain seek thee, father, is one and the same,'said Ralph, with a smile, 'as thy shrewd wits have doubtless alreadyopined.'
'I had some such notion,' answered the almoner gravely.
'Father Theodred,' said Ralph, grave in his turn, 'thou hast thereputation of an honourable man, and I am about to repose in thee atrust that will put the fortunes, and even the lives, of more than onenoble personage, including myself, in thy hands.'
Theodred sprang up hastily.
'Stay thy tongue, noble earl!' said he; 'trust neither thy fortune northy life in my hands. Thou knowest my English sympathies, and how thouhast outraged them. How can I bear goodwill to the only English noblewho fought beside the Norman on the fatal field where HaroldGodwinsson--whom God assoilzie!--lost his precious life?'
The powerful De Guader, famed for his pride and haughtiness, and hisimpatience of all rebuke, even from his royal master, bore this boldspeech from the Earl of Hereford's almoner with bent head and dejectedmien.
'What if I repent?' he asked softly, his rich voice quavering as hespoke.
Theodred gazed at him with astonished and doubtful eyes, and came backto his stool and sat down again opposite to him.
The earl raised his head and looked the almoner in the face with akeen, appealing glance.
'What if it is to those very English sympathies that I appeal?' heasked.
Theodred, considerably affected, answered, 'Nay then, speak out.'
'And if thou canst not support me, what I say shall be as unspoken?'
'Even so.'
'Swear thou that on the bones of St. Guthlac!'
'The son of Ralph the Staller should know that an Englishman's word isas good as his oath.'
'I will trust thy good faith. A half confidence is but a fool's wisdom.The point on which the Lady Emma will ask thy guidance is as to whethershe shall yet deign to be my wife.'
'Ah!' said Theodred, almost involuntarily, in a low tone; 'hast thouventured so far? Against the king's veto?'
'By St. Eadward, yes!'
Theodred's face darkened. 'Take not the name of that holy saint, whowas world-king and heaven-king also, to witness to thy sin! Thinkestthou I will aid thee in treachery to thy liege lord?'
'Sin or no sin, there are those high in the Church who will aid me.Dost thou esteem thyself holier than these?'
The earl leaned forward and whispered in Theodred's ear the names ofseveral high dignitaries of the English Church, including severalabbots and bishops.
Theodred betrayed great astonishment.
'What meanest thou?' he asked.
'I mean that there is more in this matter than is at presentunderstanded of thee,' said De Guader. 'Perhaps some insight into myown standpoint would best help thee to the whole question.'
The almoner assumed an attitude of respectful attention.
'Thou dost me great honour, noble earl,' he said. 'Nevertheless I mustprotest that as a simple priest I had rather keep to matters morewithin my province.'
'These matters must be within thy province, since thy guidance will beasked by the noble demoiselle whose part in them is of such import,'urged De Guader; and the priest sighed deeply, for he had a great lovefor the gentle girl whose adviser he must needs be in this the chiefstep of her young life. He saw nothing but strife before her, and wassorely perplexed as to whether he should forward her happiness, or,still more, her spiritual welfare, by aiding or hindering the suit ofthe turbulent man who was thus seeking to win him to his side, and whomhe scarcely knew whether to abhor for his part at Senlac, or to love asthe son of Ralph the Staller. Certes De Guader's show of contrition hadstrangely moved him, and the bruised and bleeding patriotism which washis strongest passion waked into painful life at the sight.
'Thou knowest,' said Earl Ralph, 'how, when my noble father, Ralph theStaller, died, Earl Godwin, in his hate of the Normans, or any fromacross the straits, worked with the blessed King Eadward against myBreton mother and myself, her stripling son, or rather, I should say,so wearied him out with complaints against us, made by his daughte
rEadgyth, the king's wife, that at last the good king gave ear to atrumped-up story of treasonable practices on our innocent parts, andtook my father's lands from his widow and orphan, so that we had to gobeyond the sea to my mother's estates in Bretagne.'
'I have heard a version of the matter,' said Theodred--'somewhatdiffering!' he added, under his breath.
'Canst thou wonder, then, that my love for Harold Godwinsson was notoverflowing? the more so as he claimed for himself those dear lands ofNorfolk and Suffolk, where my boyhood had been passed. Canst thouwonder that, when he broke his oath to William of Normandy, whom he hadsworn not to hinder in his claims to the English throne,--sworn, asthou knowest, on the most sacred relics'--
Theodred groaned. 'Harold knew not that the relics were there tillafter he had sworn,' he murmured.
'An Englishman's word should be as good as his oath, thou hast saidit,' rejoined the earl. 'Canst thou wonder, I ask, that I ranged myselfunder the banner of the leader whose accolade had given me knighthoodto win back those lands of my father's?'
'How couldst thou? How couldst thou fight thy father's countrymen, evento win back thy father's lands?' cried the priest, with irrepressibleemotion.
Ralph sprang up and paced about the room. 'Nay, I would give my righthand I had not done it,' he said; 'but,' he added bitterly, 'I amsufficiently punished! After all my valour and manifold services, thehaughty Bastard deems me not good enough to become his kinsman, andinsults me by forbidding me the hand of his kinswoman.'
His face was dark with scorn, and the peculiar gleam of green was inhis eyes which gave so strange an expression to his anger, while thelevel brows met above them. Evidently wounded pride had more to do withhis repentance than patriotic contrition.
But it was not convenient to admit so much even to himself. 'Blood isstronger than water, in good sooth,' he continued, 'and my father'sblood rebels in my veins when I see the hungry Normans ousting staunchEnglish families from their holdings, and revelling in the fat of theland. I had not thought of all that must follow the setting of Williamon the throne, for I dreamt not that Harold's following had been sostrong, or that the tussle would be so bitter. And now that William isaway, the curs snuffle and snarl and tear the quarry like houndswithout a huntsman, while Hereford and I, through his silly jealousy,have our hands tied, and are powerless to keep order in the land. Itell thee it is galling beyond endurance to see the base churls, whomnever a knight would have spoken to in Normandy but to give them anorder, ruffling it with the best, and strutting as they had been bornnobles, lording it over high-born English dames and damsels, whosefathers and husbands they have slain, and whose fortunes they arewasting in riot!'
'Galling beyond endurance!' repeated Theodred, springing up with agesture of anguish. 'Christ grant me pardon for the hate that springethin my heart for the doers of such wrong, for it bids fair to overflowthe barriers of my control whenever I let my thoughts wander from thecomfort of heavenly things to earthly miseries!'
De Guader's eyes gleamed with triumph as he saw his companion so deeplymoved. Stopping in his tiger walk up and down the room, he laid hisstrong hand upon Theodred's arm.
'Then help me to redress the wrong and repair the mistake!' he said.
Theodred turned on him fiercely. 'Repair the mistake! Canst thou bringthen the dead to life, or gather from the soil one drop of the nobleblood that has been poured forth upon it like water, the dark stains ofwhich still scare the traveller, and call to Heaven for vengeance?'
'Nay, St. Nicholas defend me!' answered the earl, 'I can do neither ofthese things. There is that which cannot be undone, and can only beatoned by bitter penance and humble contrition. But there is that whichmay be restored. Ruined men may have their own again. Prisoners can beset free. Doth not Archbishop Stigand still languish in durance? Is notthine own beloved bishop and Stigand's brother, AEthelmaer, living inpoverty and shame, since William's tyrannical deprivation of his see onfalse and scandalous charges?'
'Alas, yes!' admitted the priest.
Then the earl, bending towards him, and fixing his piercing eyes on thegood-humoured and yielding eyes of Theodred, said in a low, clearvoice, every syllable of every word thrilling the silent night,--
'An English king may yet fill the throne. Waltheof Siwardsson lives!'
Theodred covered his face with his hands, and staggered into his chair.After a while he murmured, 'And doth the holy Frithic, Abbot of St.Albans, favour this, and Thurstan, Abbot of Ely?'
'Ay; nor is Fitzosbern, Bishop of Exeter, opposed. He groans for thewoes of the English people, whose ways he has always loved, and whosemanners he has adopted; neither brooks he tamely this insult ofWilliam's to his nephew. When such favour me, wilt not thou?'
Theodred extended his palm without uncovering his face. 'I cannotanswer thee thus at a moment's notice. The issues are too great.'
'Waltheof, Hereford, and I,' the earl continued, his face lighted witha lofty pride, and his gesture such as might have befitted theConqueror himself, 'William absent. Who could withstand ourcombination?'
'I pray thee mercy! This matter needeth meditation and prayer. Leaveme. Whether I help or hinder thee, be sure I will not betray thee. TheHoly Virgin have both thee and me in her keeping!'
'Amen,' said the earl, and left the apartment. As he walked down thepassage, stepping softly lest he should disturb those who had slumberedwhile he plotted, he heard the strokes of the flagellum with whichFather Theodred was lacerating his shoulders.
