CHAPTER XXVI. THE RESCUE OF RAYMOND.
The appointed hour had arrived. No signal had fallen upon Gaston'slistening ears; no note of warning had rung through the still night air.
From the direction of the Castle sounds of distant revelry arose atintervals -- sounds which seemed to show that nothing in the shape ofwatch or ward was being thought of by its inmates; and also thatConstanza's promise had been kept, and potations of unwonted strengthhad been served out to the men.
Now the appointed hour had come and gone, and Gaston commenced hispreparations for the rescue of his brother. That he might be going tocertain death if he failed, or if he had been betrayed, did not weighwith him for a moment. If Constanza were false to him, better death thanthe destruction of his hopes and his trust. In any case he would sharehis brother's fate sooner than leave him in the relentless hands ofthese cruel foes.
He had selected six of his stoutest followers, all of them excellentswimmers, to accompany him across the moat; and Roger, as a matter ofcourse, claimed to be one of the party. To Roger's mysterious power ofvision they owed their rapid tracing of Raymond to this lonely spot. Itwas indeed his right to make one of the rescue party if he desired to beallowed to do so.
The rest of their number were to remain upon this farther side of themoat, and the horses were all in readiness, rested and refreshed, abouthalf-a-mile off under the care of several stout fellows, all stanch totheir master's interests. The story they had heard from Gaston of whathad been devised against his brother filled the honest soldiers withwrath and indignation. Rough and savage as they might show themselves inopen warfare, deliberate and diabolical cruelty was altogether foreignto their nature. And they all felt towards Raymond a sense of protectingand reverent tenderness, such as all may feel towards a being of finermould and loftier nature.
Raymond had the faculty of inspiring in those about him this reverentialtenderness; and not one of those stalwart fellows who were silentlylaying aside their heavy mail, and such of their garments as would belikely to hinder them in their swim across the moat, but felt a deeploathing and hatred towards the lord of this grim Tower, and anovermastering resolve to snatch his helpless victim from his cruelhands, or perish in the attempt.
All their plans had been very carefully made. Lanterns and thewherewithal for kindling them were bound upon the heads of some of theswimmers; and though they laid aside most of their defensive armour andtheir heavy riding boots, they wore their stout leather jerkins, thatwere almost as serviceable against foeman's steel, and their weapons,save the most cumbersome, were carried either in their belts or fastenedacross their shoulders.
Dark though it had become, Gaston had not lost cognizance of the spotwhither they were to direct their course; and one by one the strongswimmers plunged into the sullen waters without causing so much as aripple or plash, which might betray their movements to suspicious earsupon the battlements (if indeed any sort of watch were kept, whichappeared doubtful). They swam with that perfect silence possible only tothose who are thoroughly at home in the water, till they had crossed thedark moat and had reached the perpendicular wall of the Tower, whichrose sheer upon the farther side -- so sheer that not even the foot ofmountain goat could have scaled its rough-hewn side.
But Gaston knew what he had to search for, and with outstretched hand heswam silently along the solid masonry, feeling for that aperture justabove watermark which he had seen before the daylight faded. It took himsome little time to find it, but at last it was discovered, and with amuttered word of command to the men who silently followed in his wake,he drew himself slowly out of the water, to find himself in a verynarrow rounded aperture like a miniature tunnel, which trended slightlyupwards, and would only admit the passage of one human being at a time,and then only upon hands and knees.
It was pitchy dark in this tunnel, and there was no space in which toattempt to kindle a light. Once the thought came into Gaston's head thatif he were falling into a treacherous pitfall laid for him with diabolicingenuity by his foes, nothing could well be better than to entrap himinto such a place as this, where it would be almost impossible to goforward or back, and quite out of his power to strike a single blow forliberty or life.
But he shook off the chill sense of fear as unworthy and unknightly. HisConstanza was true; of that he was assured. The only possible doubt waswhether she herself were being used as an unconscious tool in the handsof subtle and perfectly unscrupulous men.
But even so Gaston had no choice but to advance. He had come to rescuehis brother or to die with him. If the latter, he would try at least tosell his life dearly. But he was fully persuaded that his efforts wouldbe crowned with success.
He had time to think many such things as he slowly crept along the lowpassage in the black darkness. It seemed long before his hand came incontact with the door he had been told he should presently reach, andthis door, as Constanza had said, yielded to his touch, and he feltrather than saw that he had emerged into a wider space beyond.
This place, whatever it was, was not wholly dark, though so very dimthat it was impossible to make out anything save the dull red glow ofwhat might be some embers on a distant hearth. Gaston did not speak aword, but waited till all his companions had reached this more openspace, and had risen to their feet and grasped their weapons. Then allheld their breath, and listened for any sound that might by chancereveal the presence of hidden foes, till they started at the sound ofRoger's voice speaking softly but with complete assurance.
"There is no one here," he said. "We are quite alone. Let me kindle atorch and show you."
Roger, as Gaston had before observed, possessed a cat-like faculty ofseeing in the dark. Whether it was natural to him, or had been acquiredduring those days spent almost entirely underground in the sorcerer'svaulted chamber at Basildene, the youth himself scarcely knew. But hewas able to distinguish objects clearly in gloom which no ordinary eyecould penetrate; and now he walked fearlessly forward and stirred up thesmouldering embers, whose dull red glow all could see, into a quick,bright, palpitating flame which illumined every corner of the strangeplace into which they had penetrated.
Gaston and his men looked wonderingly around them, as they lighted theirlanterns at the fire and flashed them here and there into all the darkcorners, as though to assure themselves that there were no ambushed foeslurking in the grim recesses of that circular room. But Roger had beenquite right. There was nothing living in that silent place. Not so muchas a loophole in the wall admitted any air or light from the outerworld, or could do so even in broad noon. The chamber was plainlyhollowed out in the mass of earth and masonry of which the foundationsof the Tower were composed, and if any air were admitted (as there musthave been, else men could not breathe down there), it was by some devicenot easily discovered at a first glance.
It was in truth a strange and terrible place -- the dank walls, downwhich the damp moisture slowly trickled, hung round with instruments ofvarious forms, all designed with a terrible purpose, and from their lookbut too often used.
Gaston's face assumed a look of dark wrath and indignation as his quickeyes roved round this evil place, and he set his teeth hard together ashe muttered to himself:
"Heaven send that the Prince himself may one day look upon the vilesecrets of this charnel house! I would that he and his royal fathermight know what deeds of darkness are even now committed in lands thatown their sway! Would that I had that wicked wretch here in my power atthis moment! Well does he deserve to be torn in pieces by his ownhideous engines. And in this very place does he design to do to death mybrother! May God pardon me if I sin in the thought, but death by thesword is too good for such a miscreant!"
Words very similar to these were being bandied about in fierceundertones by the men who had accompanied Gaston, and who had never seensuch a chamber as this before. Great would have been their satisfactionto let its owner taste something of the agony he had too often inflictedupon helpless victims thrown into his power. But this being out of th
equestion, the next matter was the rescue of the captive they had come tosave; and they looked eagerly at their young leader to know what was thenext step to be taken.
Gaston was searching for the wheel by which the mechanism could be setin motion which would enable him to reach his brother's prison house. Itwas easily found from the description given him by Constanza. He set hismen to work to turn the wheel, and at once became aware of the groaningand grating sound that attends the motion of clumsy machinery. Gazingeagerly up into the dun roof above him, he saw slowly descending aportion of the stonework of which it was formed. It was a clever enoughcontrivance for those unskilled days, and showed a considerableingenuity on the part of some owner of the Castle of Saut.
When the great slab had descended to the floor below, Gaston steppedupon it, Roger placing himself at his side, and with a brief word to hismen to reverse the action of the wheel, and to lower the slab again afew minutes later, he prepared for his strange passage upwards to hisbrother's lonely cell.
Roger held a lantern in his hand, and the faces of the pair were full ofanxious expectation. Suppose Raymond had been removed from that upperprison? Suppose he had succumbed either to the cruelty of his foes or tothe fever resulting from his injuries received on the day of the battle?
A hundred fears possessed Gaston's soul as the strange transit throughthe air was being accomplished -- a transit so strange that he felt asthough he must surely be dreaming. But there was only one thing to bedone -- to persevere in the quest, and trust to the Holy Saints and theloving mercy of Blessed Mary's Son to grant him success in this hisendeavour.
Up, up into the darkness of the vaulted roof he passed, and then ayawning hole above their heads, which looked too small to admit thepassage of the slab upon which they stood, swallowed them up, and theyfound themselves passing upwards through a shaft which only justadmitted the block upon which they stood. Up and up they went, and nowthe creaking sound grew louder, and the motion grew perceptibly slower.They were no longer in a narrow shaft; a black space opened before theireyes. The motion ceased altogether with a grinding sensation and a jerk,and out of the darkness of a wider space, pitchy dark to their eyes,came the sound of a familiar voice.
"Gaston -- Brother!"
Gaston sprang forward into the darkness, heedless of all but the soundof that voice. The next moment he was clasping his brother in his arms,his own emotion so great that he dared not trust his voice to speak;whilst Raymond, holding him fast in a passionate clasp, whispered in hisear a breathless question.
"Thou too a prisoner in this terrible place, my Gaston? O brother -- mybrother -- I trusted that I might have died for us both!"
"A prisoner? nay, Raymond, no prisoner; but as thy rescuer I come. What,believest thou not? Then shalt thou soon see with thine own eyes.
"But let me look first upon thy face. I would see what these miscreantshave done to thee. Thou feelest more like a creature of skin and bonethan one of sturdy English flesh and blood.
"The light, Roger!
"Ay, truly, Roger is here with me. It is to him in part we owe it thatwe are here this night. Raymond, Raymond, thou art sorely changed! Thoulookest more spirit-like than ever! Thou hast scarce strength to standalone! What have they done to thee, my brother?"
But Raymond could scarce find strength to answer. The revulsion offeeling was too much for him. When he had heard that terrible sound, andhad seen the slab in the floor sink out of sight, he had sprung from hisbed of straw, ready to face his cruel foes when they came for him, yetknowing but too well what was in store for him when he was carried downbelow, as he had been once before. Then when, instead of the cruelmocking countenance of Peter Sanghurst, he had seen the noble, lovingface of his brother, and had believed that he, too, had fallen into thepower of their deadly foes, it had seemed to him as though a bitternessgreater than that of death had fallen upon him, and the rebound offeeling when Gaston had declared himself had been so great, that thewhole place swam before his eyes, and the floor seemed to reel beneathhis feet.
"We will get him away from this foul place!" cried Gaston, with flamingeyes, as he looked into the white and sharpened face of his brother, andfelt how feebly the light frame leaned against the stalwart armsupporting it.
He half led, half carried Raymond the few paces towards the slab in thefloor which formed the link with the region beneath, and the next minuteRaymond felt himself sinking down as he had done once before; only thenit had been in the clasp of his most bitter foe that he had been carriedto that infernal spot.
The recollection made him shiver even now in Gaston's strong embrace,and the young knight felt the quiver and divined the cause.
"Fear nothing now, my brother," he said. "Though we be on our way tothat fearful place, it is for us the way to light and liberty. Our owngood fellows are awaiting us there. I trow not all the hireling knaveswithin this Castle wall should wrest thee from us now."
"I fear naught now that thou art by my side, Gaston," answered Raymond,in low tones. "If thou art not in peril thyself, I could wish nothingbetter than to die with thine arm about mine."
"Nay, but thou shalt live!" cried Gaston, with energy, scarceunderstanding that after the long strain of such a captivity asRaymond's had been it was small wonder that he had grown to think deathwell-nigh better and sweeter than life. "Thou shalt live to takevengeance upon thy foes, and to recompense them sevenfold for what theyhave done to thee. I will tell this story in the ears of the Kinghimself. This is not the last time that I shall stand within the wallsof Saut!"
By this time the heavy slab had again descended, and around it weregathered the eager fellows, who received their young master's brotherwith open arms and subdued shouts of triumph and joy. But he, though hesmiled his thanks, looked round him with eyes dilated by the remembranceof some former scene there, and Gaston set his teeth hard, and shookback his head with a gesture that boded little good for the Sieur deNavailles upon a future day.
"Come men; we may not tarry!" he said. "No man knows what fancy mayenter into the head of the master of this place. Turn the wheel again;send up the slab to its right place. Let them have no clue to trace theflight of their victim. Leave everything as we found it, and follow mewithout delay."
He was all anxiety now to get his brother from the shadow of thishideous place. The whiteness of Raymond's face, the hollowness of hiseyes, the lines of suffering traced upon his brow in a few short days,all told a tale only too easily read.
The rough fellows treated him tenderly as they might have treated alittle child. They felt that he had been through some ordeal from whichthey themselves would have shrunk with a terror they would have beenashamed to admit; and that despite the youth's fragile frame andethereal face that looked little like that of a mailed warrior, a hero'sheart beat in his breast, and he had the spirit to do and to dare whatthey themselves might have quailed from and fled before.
The transit through the narrow tunnel presented no real difficulty, andsoon the sullen waters of the moat were troubled by the silent passageof seven instead of six swimmers. The shock of the cold plunge revivedRaymond; and the sense of space above him, the star-spangled skyoverhead, the free sweet air around him, even the unfettered use of hisweakened limbs, as he swam with his brother's strong supporting armabout him, acted upon him like a tonic. He hardly knew whether or not itwas a dream; whether he were in the body or out of the body; whether heshould awake to find himself in his gloomy cell, or under the cruelhands of his foes in that dread chamber he had visited once before.
He knew not, and at that moment he cared not. Gaston's arm was abouthim, Gaston's voice was in his ear. Whatever came upon him later couldnot destroy the bliss of the present moment.
A score of eager hands were outstretched to lift the light frame fromGaston's arm as the brothers drew to the edge of the moat. It was notime to speak, no time to ask or answer questions. At any moment someunguarded movement or some crashing of the boughs underfoot might awakenthe suspicions of those within the wa
lls. It was enough that the secretexpedition had been crowned with success -- that the captive was nowreleased and in their own hands.
Raymond was almost fainting now with excitement and fatigue, butGaston's muscles seemed as if made of iron. Though the past days hadbeen for him days of great anxiety and fatigue, though he had scarceeaten or slept since the rapid march upon the besieging army around St.Jean d'Angely, he seemed to know neither fatigue nor feebleness. The armupholding Raymond's drooping frame seemed as the arm of a giant. Theyoung knight felt as though he could have carried that light weight evento Bordeaux, and scarce have felt fatigue.
But there was no need for that. Nigh at hand the horses were waiting,saddled and bridled, well fed and well rested, ready to gallop steadilyall through the summer night. The moon had risen now, and filtered inthrough the young green of the trees with a clear and fitful radiance.The forest was like a fairy scene; and over the minds of both brothersstole the softening remembrance of such woodland wonders in the daysgone by, when as little lads, full of curiosity and love of adventure,they had stolen forth at night into the forest together to see if theycould discover the fairies at their play, or the dwarfs and gnomes busybeneath the surface of the earth.
To Raymond it seemed indeed as though all besides might well be a dream.He knew not which of the fantastic images impressed upon his brain wasthe reality, and which the work of imagination. A sense of restfulthankfulness -- the release from some great and terrible fear -- hadstolen upon him, he scarce knew how or why. He did not wish to think orpuzzle out what had befallen him. He was with Gaston once more; surelythat was enough.
But Gaston's mind was hard at work. From time to time he turned ananxious look upon his brother, and he saw well how ill and weary he was,how he swayed in the saddle, though supported by cleverly-adjustedleather thongs, and how unfit he was for the long ride that lay beforethem. And yet that ride must be taken. They must be out of reach oftheir implacable foe as quickly as might be. In the unsettled state ofthe country no place would afford a safe harbour for them till Bordeauxitself was reached. Fain would he have made for the shelter of the oldhome in the mill, or of Father Anselm's hospitable home, but he knewthat those would be the first places searched by the emissaries of theNavailles. Even as it was these good people might be in some peril, andthey must certainly not be made aware of the proximity of the De Brocasbrothers.
But if not there, whither could Raymond be transported? To carry him toEngland in this exhausted state might be fatal to him; for no man knewwhen once on board ship how contrary the wind might blow, and theaccommodation for a sick man upon shipboard was of the very rudest. No;before the voyage could be attempted Raymond must have rest and care insome safe place of shelter. And where could that shelter be found?
As Gaston thus mused a sudden light came upon him, and turning to Rogerhe asked of him a question:
"Do not some of these fellows of our company come from Bordeaux; andhave they not left it of late to follow the English banner?"
"Ay, verily," answered Roger quickly. "There be some of them who cameforth thence expressly to fight under the young knight of De Brocas. Thename of De Brocas is as dear to many of those Gascon soldiers as that ofNavailles is hated and cursed."
"Send then to me one of those fellows who best knows the city," saidGaston; and in a few more minutes a trooper rode up to his side.
"Good fellow," said Gaston, "if thou knowest well you city whither weare bound, tell me if thou hast heard aught of one Father Paul, who hasbeen sent to many towns in this and other realms by his Holiness thePope, to restore amongst the Brethren of his order the forms and habitswhich have fallen something into disuse of late? I heard a whisper as wepassed through the city a week back now that he was there. Knowest thouif this be true?"
"It was true enow, Sir Knight, a few days back," answered the man, "andI trow you may find him yet at the Cistercian Monastery within the citywalls. He had but just arrived thither ere the English ships came, andmen say that he had much to do ere he sallied forth again."
"Good," answered Gaston, in a tone of satisfaction; and when the trooperhad dropped back to his place again, the young knight turned to hisbrother and said cheerily:
"Courage, good lad; keep but up thy heart, my brother, for I have heardgood news for thee. Father Paul is in the city of Bordeaux, and it is inhis kindly charge that I will leave thee ere I go to England with mytale to lay before the King."
Raymond was almost too far spent to rejoice over any intelligence,however welcome; yet a faint smile crossed his face as the sense ofGaston's words penetrated to his understanding. It was plain that therewas no time to lose if they were to get him to some safe shelter beforehis strength utterly collapsed, and long before Bordeaux was reached hehad proved unable to keep his seat in the saddle, and a litter had beencontrived for him in which he could lie at length, carried between fourof the stoutest horsemen.
They were now in more populous and orderly regions, where the forest wasthinner and townships more frequent. The urgent need for haste hadslightly diminished, and though still anxious to reach theirdestination, the party was not in fear of an instant attack from apursuing foe.
The Navailles would scarce dare to fall upon the party in theneighbourhood of so many of the English King's fortified cities; andbefore the sun set they hoped to be within the environs of Bordeauxitself -- a hope in which they were not destined to be disappointed.
Nor was Gaston disappointed of his other hope; for scarce had theyobtained admission for their unconscious and invalided comrade withinthe walls of the Cistercian Monastery, and Gaston was still eagerlypouring into the Prior's ears the story of his brother's capture andimprisonment, when the door of the small room into which the strangershad been taken was slowly opened to admit a tall, gaunt figure, andFather Paul himself stood before them. He gave Gaston one long,searching look; but he never forgot a face, and greeted him by name asSir Gaston de Brocas, greatly to the surprise of the youth, who thoughthe would neither be recognized nor known by the holy Father. Thenpassing him quickly by, the monk leaned over the couch upon whichRaymond had been laid -- a hard oaken bench -- covered by the cloak ofthe man who had borne him in.
Raymond's eyes were closed; his face, with the sunset light lying fullupon it, showed very hollow and white and worn. Even in the repose of aprofound unconsciousness it wore a look of lofty purpose, together withan expression of purity and devotion impossible to describe. Gaston andthe Prior both turned to look as Father Paul bent over the prostratefigure with an inarticulate exclamation such as he seldom uttered, andGaston felt a sudden thrill of cold fear run through him.
"He is not dead?" he asked, in a passionate whisper; and the Fatherlooked up to answer:
"Nay, Sir Knight, he is not dead. A little rest, a little tendance, alittle of our care, and he will be restored to the world again. Betterperhaps were it not so - better perchance for him. For his is not thenature to battle with impunity against the evil of the world. Look athim as he lies there: is that face of one that can look upon the deedsof these vile days and not suffer keenest pain? To fight and to vanquishis thy lot, young warrior; but what is his? To tread the thornier pathof life and win the hero's crown, not by deeds of glory and renown, butby that higher and holier path of suffering and renunciation which Onechose that we might know He had been there before us. Thou mayest liveto be one of this world's heroes, boy; but in the world to come it willbe thy brother who will wear the victor's crown."
"I truly believe it," answered Gaston, drawing a deep breath; "but yetwe cannot spare him from this world. I give him into thy hands, myFather, that thou mayest save him for us here."
In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince Page 26
