CHAPTER XXXI
PEDRO THE PAGE
The position of Pedro the page at Chas-Chateil was much endangered bythe feat of horsemanship which he had performed. A general impressionprevailed in the castle that he was an emissary of the powers ofdarkness, and that the wild boar, the black steed, the outlandish boy,and the Devil were all in league to bring some misfortune on theinmates. Moreover, the lady, who was already tiring of the page, wasinclined to take this view of the case; but Father Peter, having againsubjected the suspected person to examination, gave it as his deliberateopinion that he was in reality what he professed to be--one of a band ofmusicians from Burgos.
The good chaplain had considered the matter gravely, and made use of theintelligence he drew from Oliver Icingla to test the youngster’sveracity. He asked Pedro the name of the King of Castile, and Pedroanswered, King Alphonso. He asked who was Alphonso’s chief enemy, andPedro answered, the Moorish King of Granada. He asked what great eventhad happened before he left his own country, and Pedro told him aboutthe battle of Muradel, and how the king, in gratitude to the saints forhis victory, was about to convert his palace in the gardens of LaHuelgas into a convent. He asked what was the sin on King Alphonso’spart which had brought such dangers on the kingdom, and Pedro veryinnocently related the well-known story of the beautiful Jewess whom theroyal Castilian loved too well. The holy man was satisfied. How could hebe otherwise? And Sir Anthony was satisfied also, for he had taken anotion into his head that the page’s songs and musical instrument werenecessary to his existence.
In fact, the nerves of the knight required music to soothe them. Sincehis encounter with the wild boar in the wood at Donnington, Sir AnthonyWaledger had never been quite himself, and, as he continued his dailypotations, and ran into excess oftener than of yore by day, hiscondition did not improve during the winter; and ere spring came strangestories were abroad as to his habits by night. Still matters went onabout the castle as of old, and no particular notice was taken of thegovernor’s eccentricities till about Easter, when Richard de Morevillebecame so alarmed that he made some excuse for leaving, and embarked forParis to intimate to his uncle that the knight who had the custody ofChas-Chateil was beside himself.
“My lord,” said the Norman squire when he presented himself to hisastonished kinsman about a month before that May-day when Hugh deMoreville had persuaded Prince Louis to vow on the heron, “Sir Anthonyis crazy--in truth, he is mad. He has got into a custom of rising in thenight-time when he is asleep; of arming himself, drawing his sword, andbeginning to fight as if he were in battle!”
“By St. Moden,” said De Moreville with a sneer, “I never knew the goodknight so fond of fighting when blows were going. But, nephew, proceed,for this touches me nearly.”
“Well,” continued the squire, “the servants who sleep in his chamber towatch him on hearing him rise go to him, and next morning tell him whathe has been doing, but he forgets all about it, and cries out that theylie. Sometimes they leave neither sword nor arms in his chamber, butwhen he rises and finds them gone he makes such a noise as if all thefiends were there. They therefore think it best to leave his sword andarms, and sometimes he remains quietly in his bed, but only sometimes.Seldom a night passes without a scene.”
“Ha!” exclaimed De Moreville, thoughtfully, “I little expected suchtidings, and it behoves me to hasten my return to England and putmatters on a better footing at Chas-Chateil. It is no time for a man whohas lost his senses to be in command of a fortress.”
However, in the thirteenth century the time required to pass from thebanks of the Seine to the banks of the Kennet was considerable, andApril was speeding on without De Moreville having appeared at the castleor giving any intimation that he was likely to come; and Sir Anthonybecame worse rather than better, declaring that nothing soothed him butthe music of Pedro the page, and insisting more strongly than ever thatPedro had been sent to him by St. Anthony and St. Hubert at the veryinstant he had cried out to them for protection.
By this time Pedro’s equestrian feat was all but forgotten. It had beena nine days’ wonder and nothing more. Yet one person had neitherforgotten nor forgiven--namely, Clem the Bold Rider. In fact, Clem,feeling certain that there was some mystery in the business, and blamingPedro for his mishap, had, under the influence of mortified vanity,vowed revenge, and continued to watch Pedro wherever he went whenoutside the castle as a cat watches a mouse it has destined as a victim.No matter at what hour he went forth or in what direction he turned, hewas sure to meet Clem hanging about the courtyard, or the stable-yard,or the drawbridge talking the slang of the age to one person or another,but never without a sharp eye on Pedro’s movements. This was, doubtless,annoying. Pedro certainly looked much too innocent to have any evilintention. Still, one likes not to be watched every time he moves out totake the air.
Now Pedro, since his reception into Chas-Chateil, had been quite free togo about wherever he liked. But there was one place from which he wasstrictly excluded, and that place was “the ladies’ walk,” which wasstrictly guarded by a sentinel. It was wonderful, by-the-bye, how thisfact used to slip out of Pedro’s memory, and how many efforts he made byhook or by crook to reach that battlement. But his efforts wereunavailing.
At length he seemed to think that a view from a distance was betterthan no view at all, and after singing a Spanish song he clambered up aparapet, and strained his eyes towards the prohibited region. As hedescended Clem stood before him, seized him by the collar, andadministered a hearty buffet on the cheek. But he little calculated theconsequences. Pedro’s frame shook with rage, his eyes flashed fire, andhe turned savagely on his assailant.
“Son of a theorve!” said he in very good English, “hadst thou known howI can return that blow, thou hadst never had the courage to deal it.This is the way I requite such courtesy, as chevaliers phrase it.”
As the page spoke, his clenched fist avenged the wrong he had suffered,and the Bold Rider lay sprawling by the parapet. But he rose instantlyfrom the ground, not, indeed, to renew the attack--of that he had hadenough, and more than enough. But he retreated several paces, and thenlooked his adversary in the face.
“Master page,” said he, glowering with malice, “thy speech has betrayedthee. Ere half an hour passes the governor shall know that a spy iswithin the castle, and the dule tree is your sure doom;” and Clem ranoff to take measures for insuring his revenge.
Pedro did not seem quite easy under the influence of this threat. Butperhaps he had heard that to pause at the crisis of one’s fate is tolose all, and he did not hesitate. It was the hour when he was in thehabit of singing to Sir Anthony Waledger in the chamber so vigilantlyguarded against intrusion that the inmates of the castle believed itcontained De Moreville’s treasury. Pedro entered, and found Sir Anthonyseated at a table with his wine-cup before him. Pedro having purposelyleft the door half-open, sat down on a low footstool, and prepared tosing. Sir Anthony rose and moved slowly to close the door, and Pedro,quick as thought, drew forth a little bag, and shook some powder intothe wine. Sir Anthony resumed his seat and drained the wine-cup, andPedro began to sing. Sir Anthony gradually fell sound asleep, and Pedro,rising from the footstool, went to the panel on which the battle ofHastings was depicted, examined it minutely, and pressed his finger on aknob that caught his eye. As he did so it flew open with a spring, andPedro, entering, closed it as gently as he could, and, descending astair that lay before him, found himself in a dark but broad and highpassage, along which he walked with what speed he could, not withoutstumbling as he went.
It was not, however, until he had travelled full half a mile and takenseveral turns that he at last began to descry something like daylight.It was, indeed, only a glimmer. But he proceeded, pushed through a cleftof a rock, and going head-foremost through some brushwood, found himselfto his great joy in a thicket close by the Kennet. Pedro, indeed, leaptfor joy as he reflected on the discovery he had made, but did not in hisexcitement forget to leave such marks as to insure his bei
ng able tofind the place on his return, for to return he intended. Cunningly heset marks on the trees around, measured the distance to the margin ofthe river, impressed on his memory the various objects around, and then,turning his face southward, made for the neighbourhood of London as fastas he could, to obviate the chance of being recaptured in case ofpursuit.
But he was in no danger in that respect. At Chas-Chateil hisdisappearance was heard of with superstitious awe, and the inmates toldeach other that the goblin who had been figuring as a lady’s page, andwhose spells and devices had driven the governor half-crazy and causedhim to walk while asleep, had been suddenly carried off by his masterwho sent him. Only one person dissented--it was Clem the Bold Rider, whogave his reasons for believing the page to have been a spy. But Clem’scharacter for veracity did not rank high, and he did not improve it bythe story which he told on this occasion.
As for Sir Anthony Waledger, he woke up before sunset, much refreshedwith his sleep. It was the first sound sleep the knight had enjoyed formonths. Of course he could give no account as to how and where themysterious page had gone, only he very much missed the music and thesong.
Meanwhile, Hugh de Moreville was leaving Paris, resolved on placingChas-Chateil in safer custody. The Norman baron was destined to reachthe castle five hours too late for his purpose.
Runnymede and Lincoln Fair: A Story of the Great Charter Page 33
