Noémi

by S. Baring-Gould

  CHAPTER V.

  RAISING THE RANSOM.

  A HEAVY sum of money had to be raised, and that within a fortnight.

  The Del' Peyra family was far from wealthy. It owned a littleseigneurie, Ste. Soure, little else. It took its name from the rocksamong which it had its habitation, from the rocks among which its landlay in brown patches, and from which a scanty harvest was reaped. Onlyin the valley where there was alluvial soil were there pastures forcattle, and on the slopes vineyards whence wine could be expressed. Thearable land on the plateaus above the valley of the Vezere was thin andpoor enough. A little grain could be grown among the flints and chips ofchalk, but it was scanty and poor in quality. If the territories ownedby the Del' Peyras had been extensive, then vastness of domain mighthave compensated for its poor quality. But such was not the case.

  The Castle of Le Peuch above Ste. Soure was but small; it consisted of acluster of buildings leaning against the upright cliff at the summit ofa steep incline. This natural glacis of rubble, at an inclination sorapid that the ascent was a matter of difficulty, was in itself aconsiderable protection to it. The castle could not be captured at arush, for no rush could be made up a slope which was surmountable onlywith loss of wind. But supposing the main buildings were stormed, stillthe inhabitants were sure of escape, for from the roof of the castlethey could escalade the precipices to a series of chambers scooped outof the rock, at several successive elevations, each stage beingdefendable, and only to be surmounted by a ladder. The castle itself washardly so big as a modern farmhouse. It consisted of but three or foursmall chambers, one of which served as kitchen and hall. Le Peuch wasnot a place to stand much of a siege; it was rather what was called inthose times a _place-forte_, a stronghold in which people could taketemporary refuge from the freebooters who swept the open country, andhad no engines for the destruction of walls, nor time to expend in aregular siege. To the poor at that period, the church-tower was the onehold of security, where they put their chests in which were all theirlittle treasures; and it was one of the bitterest complaints against arapacious Bishop of Rodez, that he levied a fee for his own pocket onall these cypress and ashen boxes confided to the sanctuary of theparish church. When the signal was given that an enemy was in sight,then men and women crowded to the church and barred its doors. A visitorto the Perigord will this day see many a village church which bearstokens of having been a fortress. The lowest storey is church; thefloors above are so contrived as to serve as places of refuge, with allappliances for a residence in them. When Louis VII. was ravaging theterritories of his indocile vassal, the Count of Champagne, he set fireto the church of the little town of Vitry, in which all the citizens,their wives and children, had taken refuge, and thirteen hundred personsperished in the flames. Such was war in the Middle Ages. When Henry V.of England was entreated not to burn the towns and villages throughwhich he passed, "Bah!" said he, "would you have me eat my meat withoutmustard?"

  At Ste. Soure there was no church-tower, the place of refuge of thevillagers was Le Peuch; but the attack of the marauders had been toosudden and unexpected for them to reach it.

  What was to be done? The ransom demanded for the seven men was a hundredlivres of Bergerac--that is to say, a sum equivalent at the present timeto about one thousand nine hundred pounds. Unless the men were redeemed,the Sieur of Le Peuch would be ruined. No men would remain under hisprotection when he could neither protect nor deliver them. If he raisedthe sum, it must be at a ruinous rate, that would impoverish him foryears. He was stunned with the magnitude of the disaster. There was buta fortnight in which not only must he resolve what to do, but have themoney forthcoming.

  After the first stupefaction was over, the old man's heart was full ofwrath.

  Ogier del' Peyra had been a peaceable man, a good landlord, neveroppressing his men, rather dull in head and slow of thought, butright-minded and straightforward. No little seigneur in all the districtwas so respected. Perhaps it was for this reason that his lands hadhitherto been spared by the ravagers. He was not one who had been a hotpartisan of the French and a fiery opponent of the English, or rather ofthose who called themselves English. He had wished for nothing so muchas to remain neutral.

  But now Le Gros Guillem, who respected nothing and nobody, had suddenlydealt him a staggering blow from which he could hardly recover.

  The effect when the first numbness was passed was such as is often thecase with dull men, slow to move. Once roused and thoroughlyexasperated, he became implacable and resolute.

  "We will recover our men," said Ogier to his son, "and then repayGuillem in his own coin."

  "How shall we get the money?" asked Jean.

  "You must go to Sarlat, and see if any can be procured there. See theBishop; he may help."

  Accordingly Jean del' Peyra rode back a good part of the way he hadtraced the previous day, but half-way turned left to Sarlat instead ofright to La Roque.

  The little city of Sarlat occupies a basin at the juncture of someinsignificant streams, and was chosen by the first settlers--monks--asbeing in an almost inaccessible position, when Perigord was covered withforest. It was to be reached only through difficult and tortuous glens.A flourishing town it never was, and never could be, as it had nofertile country round to feed it. It was a town that struggled on--anddrew its main importance from the fact of its serving as a centre ofFrench influence against the all-pervading English power. It had anothersource of life in that, being under the pastoral staff instead of underthe sword, it had better chance of peace than had a town owing duty,military and pecuniary, to a lay lord. The baron, if not on thedefensive, was not happy unless levying war, whereas the ecclesiasticalchief acted solely in the defensive.

  The protection of the district ruled by the Bishop of Sarlat was no easyor inexpensive matter, hemmed in as it was by insolent seigneurs, whopretended to serve the English when wronging their French neighbours.Moreover the strong town of Domme, on the Dordogne, facing La Roque, wasin the hands of the English, and was garrisoned for them under thecommand of the notorious Captain, Le Gros Guillem.

  This man had his own fastness above the Vezere, on the left bank, belowthe juncture of the Beune with the river, a place called by the people"L'Eglise de Guillem," in bitterness of heart and loathing, becausethere, according to the popular belief, he had his sanctuary in which heworshipped the devil. Few, if any, of the peasants had been suffered toenter this fortress, half-natural, half-artificial. Such as had gained acloser view than could be obtained from two hundred feet below by theriver bank said that it consisted of a series of chambers, partlynatural, scooped in the rock, and of a cavern of unknown depth withwinding entrance, that led, it was rumoured, into the place of torment;and at the entrance, excavated in a projecting piece of rock, was aholy-water stoup such as is seen in churches. This, however, it waswhispered, was filled with blood, and Le Gros Guillem, when he enteredthe cave to adore the fiend, dipped his finger therein, and signedhimself with some cabalistic figure, of which none save he knew thesignificance.

  Between his own stronghold of L'Eglise and the walled town of Domme,Guillem was often on the move.

  Without much difficulty, Jean del' Peyra obtained access to the Bishop,an amiable, frightened, and feeble man, little suited to cope with thedifficulties of his situation. Jean told him the reason why he had come.

  "But," said the Bishop, "you are not my vassal. I am not bound tosustain you." And he put his hands to his head and pressed it.

  "I know that, Monseigneur; but you are French, and so is my father; andwe French must hold together and help each other."

  "You must go to the French Governor of Guyenne."

  "Where is he! What can he do? There is no time to be lost to save themen."

  The Bishop squeezed his head. "I am unable to do anything. A hundredlivres of Bergerac--that is a large sum. If it had been livres of Tours,it would have been better. Here!"--he signed to his treasurer--"How muchhave I? Is t
here anything in my store?"

  "Nothing," answered the official. "Monseigneur has had to pay thegarrison of La Roque, and all the money is out."

  "You hear what he says," said the Bishop dispiritedly. "I have nothing!"

  "Then the seven men must be mutilated."

  "It is too horrible! And the poor wives and children! Ah! we are interrible times. I pray the Lord daily to take me out of it into the Restthere remains for the people of God; or, better still, to translate meto another see."

  "Yes, Monseigneur; but whilst we are here we must do what we can for ourfellows, and to save them from further miseries."

  "That is true, boy, very true. I wish I had money. But it comes in intrickles and goes out in floods. I will tell you what to do. Go to theSaint Suaire at Cadouin and pray that the Holy Napkin may help."

  "I am afraid the help may come too late! The Napkin, I hear, is slow inanswering prayer."

  "Not if you threaten it with the Saint Suaire at Cahors. Those two HolyNapkins are so near that they are as jealous of each other as twohandsome girls; and if they met would tear each other as cats. Tell theSaint Suaire at Cadouin that if you are not helped at once you willapply to her sister at Cahors."

  "I have been told that it costs money to make the Saint Suaire listen toone's addresses, and I want to receive and not to pay."

  "Not much, not much!" protested the Bishop.

  "Besides, Monseigneur," said the youth, "there might be delay while thetwo Holy Napkins were fighting out the question which was to help us.And then--to have such a squabble might not be conducive to religion."

  "There is something in that," said the Bishop. "Oh, my head! my poorhead!" He considered a while, and then with a sigh said--"I'll indulgebutter. I will!"

  "I do not understand, my lord."

  "I'll allow the faithful to eat butter in Lent, if they will pay a few_sols_ for the privilege. That will raise a good sum."

  "Yes, but Lent is six months hence, and the men will be mutilated intwelve days."

  "Besides, I want the butter money for the cathedral, which is a shabbybuilding! What a world of woe we live in!"

  "Monseigneur, can you not help me? Must seven homes be rendered desolatefor lack of a hundred livres?"

  "Oh, my head! it will burst! I have no money, but I will do all in mypower to assist you. Ogier del' Peyra is a good man, and good men arefew. Go to Levi in the Market Place. He is the only man in Sarlat whogrows rich in the general impoverishment. He must help you. Tell himthat I will guarantee the sum. If he will give you the money, then heshall make me pay a denier every time I light my fire and warm my oldbones at it. He can see my chimney from his house, and whenever henotices smoke rise from it, let him come in and demand his denier."

  "It will take a hundred years like that to clear off the principal andmeet the interest."

  The Bishop raised his hands and clasped them despairingly. "I have donemy utmost!"

  "Then I am to carry the tidings to seven wives that the Church cannothelp them?"

  "No--no! Try Levi with the butter-money. I did desire to have abeautiful tower to my cathedral, but seven poor homes is better thanfine carving, and I will promise him the butter-money. Try him withthat--if that fails, then I am helpless. My head! my head! It will neverrest till laid in the grave. O sacred Napkins of Cadouin and Cahors!Take care of yourselves and be more indulgent to us miserable creatures,or I will publish a mandment recommending the Napkin of Compiegne, orthat of Besancon, and then where will you be?"