by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XVII: THE ESPIED SPY
What, the rude ranger? and spied spy?--hands off-- You are for no such rustics.
BEN JONSON'S TALE OF ROBIN HOOD
When Quentin sallied from the convent, he could mark the precipitateretreat of the Bohemian, whose dark figure was seen in the far moonlightflying with the speed of a flogged hound quite through the street of thelittle village, and across the level meadow that lay beyond.
"My friend runs fast," said Quentin to himself, "but he must run fasteryet, to escape the fleetest foot that ever pressed the heather of GlenHoulakin!"
Being fortunately without his cloak and armour, the Scottish mountaineerwas at liberty to put forth a speed which was unrivalled in his ownglens, and which, notwithstanding the rate at which the Bohemian ran,was likely soon to bring his pursuer up with him. This was not,however, Quentin's object, for he considered it more essential to watchHayraddin's motions, than to interrupt them. He was the rather led tothis by the steadiness with which the Bohemian directed his course, andwhich, continuing even after the impulse of the violent expulsion hadsubsided, seemed to indicate that his career had some more certain goalfor its object than could have suggested itself to a person unexpectedlyturned out of good quarters when midnight was approaching, to seek anew place of repose. He never even looked behind him, and consequentlyDurward was enabled to follow him unobserved. At length, the Bohemianhaving traversed the meadow and attained the side of a little stream,the banks of which were clothed with alders and willows, Quentinobserved that he stood still, and blew a low note on his horn, which wasanswered by a whistle at some little distance.
"This is a rendezvous," thought Quentin, "but how shall I come nearenough to overhear the import of what passes? The sound of my steps, andthe rustling of the boughs through which I must force my passage, willbetray me, unless I am cautious--I will stalk them, by Saint Andrew,as if they were Glen Isla deer--they shall learn that I have not connedwoodcraft for naught. Yonder they meet, the two shadows--and two of themthere are--odds against me if I am discovered, and if their purpose beunfriendly, as is much to be doubted. And then the Countess Isabelleloses her poor friend--Well, and he were not worthy to be called such,if he were not ready to meet a dozen in her behalf. Have I not crossedswords with Dunois, the best knight in France, and shall I fear a tribeof yonder vagabonds? Pshaw!--God and Saint Andrew to friend, they willfind me both stout and wary."
Thus resolving, and with a degree of caution taught him by his silvanhabits, our friend descended into the channel of the little stream,which varied in depth, sometimes scarce covering his shoes, sometimescoming up to his knees, and so crept along, his form concealed by theboughs overhanging the bank, and his steps unheard amid the ripple ofthe water. (We have ourselves, in the days of yore, thus approachedthe nest of the wakeful raven.) In this manner the Scot drew nearunperceived, until he distinctly heard the voices of those who were thesubject of his observation, though he could not distinguish the words.Being at this time under the drooping branches of a magnificent weepingwillow, which almost swept the surface of the water, he caught hold ofone of its boughs, by the assistance of which, exerting at once muchagility, dexterity, and strength, he raised himself up into the body ofthe tree, and sat, secure from discovery, among the central branches.
From this situation he could discover that the person with whomHayraddin was now conversing was one of his own tribe, and at the sametime he perceived, to his great disappointment, that no approximationcould enable him to comprehend their language, which was totally unknownto him. They laughed much, and as Hayraddin made a sign of skippingabout, and ended by rubbing his shoulder with his hand, Durward had nodoubt that he was relating the story of the bastinading which he hadsustained previous to his escape from the convent.
On a sudden, a whistle was again heard in the distance, which wasonce more answered by a low tone or two of Hayraddin's horn. Presentlyafterwards, a tall, stout, soldierly looking man, a strong contrast inpoint of thews and sinews to the small and slender limbed Bohemians,made his appearance. He had a broad baldric over his shoulder, whichsustained a sword that hung almost across his person, his hose were muchslashed, through which slashes was drawn silk, or tiffany, of variouscolours, they were tied by at least five hundred points or strings, madeof ribbon, to the tight buff jacket which he wore, the right sleeve ofwhich displayed a silver boar's head, the crest of his Captain. A verysmall hat sat jauntily on one side of his head, from which descended aquantity of curled hair, which fell on each side of a broad face, andmingled with as broad a beard, about four inches long. He held a longlance in his hand, and his whole equipment was that of one of the Germanadventurers, who were known by the name of lanzknechts, in English,spearmen, who constituted a formidable part of the infantry of theperiod. These mercenaries were, of course, a fierce and rapacioussoldiery, and having an idle tale current among themselves, that alanzknecht was refused admittance into heaven on account of hisvices, and into hell on the score of his tumultuous, mutinous, andinsubordinate disposition, they manfully acted as if they neither soughtthe one nor eschewed the other.
"Donner and blitz! [thunder and lightning!]" was his first salutation,in a sort of German French, which we can only imperfectly imitate, "Whyhave you kept me dancing in attendance dis dree nights?"
"I could not see you sooner, Meinherr," said Hayraddin, verysubmissively, "there is a young Scot, with as quick an eye as thewildcat, who watches my least motions. He suspects me already, and,should he find his suspicion confirmed, I were a dead man on the spot,and he would carry back the women into France again."
"Was henker! [what the deuce!]" said the lanzknecht, "we are three--wewill attack them tomorrow, and carry the women off without goingfarther. You said the two valets were cowards--you and your comrade maymanage them, and the Teufel [the devil] shall hold me, but I match yourScots wildcat."
"You will find that foolhardy," said Hayraddin, "for besides that weourselves count not much in fighting, this spark hath matched himselfwith the best knight in France, and come off with honour--I have seenthose who saw him press Dunois hard enough."
"Hagel and sturmwetter! [hail and stormy weather!] It is but yourcowardice that speaks," said the German soldier.
"I am no more a coward than yourself," said Hayraddin "but my tradeis not fighting.--If you keep the appointment where it was laid, it iswell--if not, I guide them safely to the Bishop's Palace, and William dela Marck may easily possess himself of them there, provided he is halfas strong as he pretended a week since."
"Poz tausend! [Zounds!]" said the soldier, "we are as strong andstronger, but we hear of a hundreds of the lances of Burgund,--das ist,see you,--five men to a lance do make five hundreds, and then hold methe devil, they will be fainer to seek for us, than we to seek for them,for der Bischoff hath a goot force on footing--ay, indeed!"
"You must then hold to the ambuscade at the Cross of the Three Kings, orgive up the adventure," said the Bohemian.
"Geb up--geb up the adventure of the rich bride for our noble hauptman[leader or captain]--Teufel! I will charge through hell first.--Meinsoul, we will be all princes and hertzogs, whom they call dukes, andwe will hab a snab at the wein kellar [wine cellar], and at the mouldyFrench crowns, and it may be at the pretty garces too [meaning thecountesses], when He with de beard is weary on them."
"The ambuscade at the Cross of the Three Kings then still holds?" saidthe Bohemian.
"Mein Gob ay,--you will swear to bring them there, and when they are ontheir knees before the cross, and down from off their horses, which allmen do, except such black heathens as thou, we will make in on them andthey are ours."
"Ay, but I promised this piece of necessary villainy only on onecondition," said Hayraddin.--"I will not have a hair of the youngman's head touched. If you swear this to me, by your Three Dead Men ofCologne, I will swear to you, by the Seven Night Walkers, that I willserve you truly as to the rest. And if you break your oath, the NightWalkers shall wake you s
even nights from your sleep, between night andmorning, and, on the eighth, they shall strangle and devour you."
"But donner and bagel, what need you be so curious about the life ofthis boy, who is neither your bloot nor kin?" said the German.
"No matter for that, honest Heinrick, some men have pleasure in cuttingthroats, some in keeping them whole.--So swear to me, that you willspare him life and limb, or by the bright star Aldebaran, this mattershall go no farther.--Swear, and by the Three Kings, as you call them,of Cologne--I know you care for no other oath."
"Du bist ein comische man [thou art a droll fellow]," said thelanzknecht, "I swear."
"Not yet," said the Bohemian. "Face about, brave lanzknecht, and look tothe east, else the Kings may not hear you."
The soldier took the oath in the manner prescribed, and then declaredthat he would be in readiness, observing the place was quite convenient,being scarce five miles from their present leaguer.
"But were it not making sure work to have a fahnlein [a regiment orcompany] of riders on the other road, by the left side of the inn, whichmight trap them if they go that way?"
The Bohemian considered a moment, and then answered. "No--the appearanceof their troops in that direction might alarm the garrison of Namur,and then they would have a doubtful fight, instead of assured success.Besides, they shall travel on the right bank of the Maes, for I canguide them which way I will, for sharp as this same Scottish mountaineeris, he hath never asked any one's advice, save mine, upon the directionof their route. Undoubtedly, I was assigned to him by an assured friend,whose word no man mistrusts till they come to know him a little."
"Hark ye, friend Hayraddin," said the soldier, "I would ask yousomewhat. You and your bruder were, as you say yourself, gross sternendeuter, that is, star lookers and geister seers [seers of ghosts]. Now,what henker was it made you not foresee him, your bruder Zamet, to behanged?"
"I will tell you, Heinrick," said Hayraddin, "if I could have known mybrother was such a fool as to tell the counsel of King Louis to DukeCharles of Burgundy, I could have foretold his death as sure as I canforetell fair weather in July. Louis hath both ears and hands at theCourt of Burgundy, and Charles's counsellors love the chink of Frenchgold as well as thou dost the clatter of a wine pot.--But fare theewell, and keep appointment--I must await my early Scot a bow shotwithout the gate of the den of the lazy swine yonder, else will hethink me about some excursion which bodes no good to the success of hisjourney."
"Take a draught of comfort first," said the lanzknecht, tendering him aflask--"but I forget, thou art beast enough to drink nothing but water,like a vile vassal of Mahound and Termagund [the name of the god of theSaracens in medieaval romances where he is linked with Mahound]."
"Thou art thyself a vassal of the wine measure and the flagon," said theBohemian. "I marvel not that thou art only trusted with the bloodthirstyand violent part of executing what better heads have devised.--He mustdrink no wine who would know the thoughts of others, or hide his own.But why preach to thee, who hast a thirst as eternal as a sand bank inArabia?
"Fare thee well. Take my comrade Tuisco with thee--his appearance aboutthe monastery may breed suspicion."
The two worthies parted, after each had again pledged himself to keepthe rendezvous at the Cross of the Three Kings. Quentin Durward watcheduntil they were out of sight, and then descended from his place ofconcealment, his heart throbbing at the narrow escape which he and hisfair charge had made--if, indeed, it could yet be achieved--from adeep laid plan of villainy. Afraid, on his return to the monastery,of stumbling upon Hayraddin, he made a long detour, at the expense oftraversing some very rough ground, and was thus enabled to return to hisasylum on a different point from that by which he left it.
On the route, he communed earnestly with himself concerning the safestplan to be pursued. He had formed the resolution, when he first heardHayraddin avow his treachery, to put him to death so soon as theconference broke up, and his companions were at a sufficient distance,but when he heard the Bohemian express so much interest in saving hisown life, he felt it would be ungrateful to execute upon him, in itsrigour, the punishment his treachery had deserved. He therefore resolvedto spare his life, and even, if possible, still to use his services asa guide, under such precautions as should ensure the security ofthe precious charge, to the preservation of which his own life wasinternally devoted.
But whither were they to turn?--The Countesses of Croye could neitherobtain shelter in Burgundy, from which they had fled, nor in France,from which they had been in a manner expelled. The violence of DukeCharles, in the one country, was scarcely more to be feared than thecold and tyrannical policy of King Louis in the other. After deepthought, Durward could form no better or safer plan for their security,than that, evading the ambuscade, they should take the road to Liegeby the left hand of the Maes, and throw themselves, as the ladiesoriginally designed, upon the protection of the excellent Bishop. ThatPrelate's will to protect them could not be doubted, and, if reinforcedby this Burgundian party of men at arms, he might be considered ashaving the power. At any rate, if the dangers to which he was exposedfrom the hostility of William de la Marck, and from the troubles in thecity of Liege, appeared imminent, he would still be able to protectthe unfortunate ladies until they could be dispatched to Germany with asuitable escort.
To sum up this reasoning--for when is a mental argument conductedwithout some reference to selfish consideration?--Quentin imagined thatthe death or captivity to which King Louis had, in cold blood, consignedhim, set him at liberty from his engagements to the crown of France:which, therefore, it was his determined purpose to renounce, The Bishopof Liege was likely, he concluded, to need soldiers, and he thoughtthat, by the interposition of his fair friends, who now, especially theelder Countess, treated him with much familiarity, he might get somecommand, and perhaps might have the charge of conducting the Ladies ofCroye to some place more safe than the neighbourhood of Liege. And, toconclude, the ladies had talked, although almost in a sort of jest, ofraising the Countess's own vassals, and, as others did in those stormytimes, fortifying her strong castle against all assailants whatever,they had jestingly asked Quentin whether he would accept the perilousoffice of their Seneschal, and, on his embracing the office with readyglee and devotion, they had, in the same spirit, permitted him to kissboth their hands on that confidential and honourable appointment. Nay,he thought that the hand of the Countess Isabelle, one of the bestformed and most beautiful to which true vassal ever did such homage,trembled when his lips rested on it a moment longer than ceremonyrequired, and that some confusion appeared on her cheek and in her eyeas she withdrew it. Something might come of all this, and what braveman, at Quentin Durward's age, but would gladly have taken the thoughtswhich it awakened, into the considerations which were to determine hisconduct?
This point settled, he had next to consider in what degree he was touse the farther guidance of the faithless Bohemian. He had renounced hisfirst thought of killing him in the wood, and, if he took another guide,and dismissed him alive, it would be sending the traitor to the camp ofWilliam de la Marck, with intelligence of their motions. He thought oftaking the Prior into his counsels, and requesting him to detain theBohemian by force, until they should have time to reach the Bishop'scastle, but, on reflection, he dared not hazard such a proposition toone who was timid both as an old man and a friar, who held the safety ofhis convent the most important object of his duty, and who trembled atthe mention of the Wild Boar of Ardennes.
At length Durward settled a plan of operation on which he could thebetter reckon, as the execution rested entirely upon himself, and,in the cause in which he was engaged, he felt himself capable ofeverything. With a firm and bold heart, though conscious of the dangersof his situation, Quentin might be compared to one walking under a load,of the weight of which he is conscious, but which yet is not beyond hisstrength and power of endurance. Just as his plan was determined, hereached the convent.
Upon knocking gently at the
gate, a brother, considerately stationedfor that purpose by the Prior, opened it, and acquainted him that thebrethren were to be engaged in the choir till daybreak, praying Heavento forgive to the community the various scandals which had that eveningtaken place among them.
The worthy friar offered Quentin permission to attend their devotions,but his clothes were in such a wet condition that the young Scot wasobliged to decline the opportunity, and request permission, instead,to sit by the kitchen fire, in order to his attire being dried beforemorning, as he was particularly desirous that the Bohemian, when theyshould next meet, should observe no traces of his having been abroadduring the night. The friar not only granted his request, but affordedhim his own company, which fell in very happily with the desire whichDurward had to obtain information concerning the two routes which he hadheard mentioned by the Bohemian in his conversation with the lanzknecht.The friar, entrusted upon many occasions with the business of theconvent abroad, was the person in the fraternity best qualified toafford him the information he requested, but observed that, as truepilgrims, it became the duty of the ladies whom Quentin escorted, totake the road on the right side of the Maes, by the Cross of the Kings,where the blessed relics of Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar (as theCatholic Church has named the eastern Magi who came to Bethlehem withtheir offerings) had rested as they were transported to Cologne, and onwhich spot they had wrought many miracles.
Quentin replied that the ladies were determined to observe all the holystations with the utmost punctuality, and would certainly visit thatof the Cross, either in going to or from Cologne, but they had heardreports that the road by the right side of the river was at presentrendered unsafe by the soldiers of the ferocious William de la Marck.
"Now may Heaven forbid," said Father Francis, "that the Wild Boar ofArdennes should again make his lair so near us!--Nevertheless, the broadMaes will be a good barrier betwixt us, even should it so chance."
"But it will be no barrier between my ladies and the marauder, should wecross the river, and travel on the right," answered the Scot.
"Heaven will protect its own, young man," said the friar, "for it werehard to think that the Kings of yonder blessed city of Cologne, who willnot endure that a Jew or infidel should even enter within the wallsof their town, could be oblivious enough to permit their worshippers,coming to their shrine as true pilgrims, to be plundered and misused bysuch a miscreant dog as this Boar of Ardennes, who is worse than a wholedesert of Saracen heathens, and all the ten tribes of Israel to boot."
Whatever reliance Quentin, as a sincere Catholic, was bound to rest uponthe special protection of Melchior, Caspar, and Balthasar, he could notbut recollect that the pilgrim habits of the ladies being assumed outof mere earthly policy, he and his charge could scarcely expect theircountenance on the present occasion, and therefore resolved, as faras possible, to avoid placing the ladies in any predicament wheremiraculous interposition might be necessary, whilst, in the simplicityof his good faith, he himself vowed a pilgrimage to the Three Kings ofCologne in his own proper person, provided the simulate design of thoseover whose safety he was now watching, should be permitted by thosereasonable and royal, as well as sainted personages, to attain thedesired effect.
That he might enter into this obligation with all solemnity, herequested the friar to show him into one of the various chapels whichopened from the main body of the church of the convent, where, upon hisknees, and with sincere devotion, he ratified the vow which he had madeinternally. The distant sound of the choir, the solemnity of the deepand dead hour which he had chosen for this act of devotion, the effectof the glimmering lamp with which the little Gothic building wasilluminated--all contributed to throw Quentin's mind into the statewhen it most readily acknowledges its human frailty, and seeks thatsupernatural aid and protection which, in every worship, must beconnected with repentance for past sins and resolutions of futureamendment. That the object of his devotion was misplaced, was not thefault of Quentin, and, its purpose being sincere, we can scarce supposeit unacceptable to the only true Deity, who regards the motives, and notthe forms of prayer, and in whose eyes the sincere devotion of a heathenis more estimable than the specious hypocrisy of a Pharisee.
Having commended himself and his helpless companions to the Saints, andto the keeping of Providence, Quentin at length retired to rest, leavingthe friar much edified by the depth and sincerity of his devotion.
