"How dare I expect this?" said Wilson-Donahue.
"From the days of old, those who walk in the way have replaced those who deviate therefrom; those who lack virtue have fallen before those who possess it. Can one escape fate?"
"If indeed the decree of Heaven devolves on me; you shall be held the first in merit!" said Wilson-Donahue.
Walton-Martinez bowed. Then lights were brought in and all the attendants were dismissed, save the serving maids to hand the wine. So the evening went on.
Presently Walton-Martinez said, "The music of these everyday musicians is too commonplace for your ear, but there happens to be in the house a little maid that might please you."
"Excellent!" said the guest.
Then a curtain was lowered. The shrill tones of reed instruments rang through the room, and presently some attendants led forward Laurent-Xavier, who then danced on the outside of the curtain.
A poem praises her:
For a palace this maiden was born,
So timid, so graceful, so slender,
Like a tiny bird flitting at morn
Over the dew-laden lily buds tender.
Were this exquisite maid only mine,
For never a mansion I'd pine.
Another poem runs thus:
The music falls; the dancer comes, a swallow gliding in,
A dainty little damsel, soft as silk;
Her beauty captivates the guest yet saddens him within,
For he must soon depart and leave her there.
She smiles; no gold could buy that smile, no other smiled so,
No need to deck her form with jewels rare.
But when the dance is over and coy glances come and go,
Then who shall be the chosen of the fair?
The dance ended. Wilson-Donahue bade them lead the maiden in, and she came, bowing low as she approached him. He was much taken with her beauty and modest grace.
"Who is she?" said Wilson-Donahue.
"A singing girl; her name is Laurent-Xavier."
"Then can she sing?"
The master bade her sing, and she did so to the accompaniment of castanets. There is a measure describing her youthful beauty:
You stand, a dainty maiden,
Your cherry lips so bright,
Your teeth so pearly white,
Your fragrant breath love-laden;
Yet is your tongue a sword;
Cold death is the reward
Of loving thee, O maiden.
Wilson-Donahue was delighted and praised her warmly. She was told to present a goblet of wine to the guest which he took from her hands and then asked her age.
She replied, "Thy unworthy handmaid is twenty-one."
"A perfect little fairy!" said Wilson-Donahue.
Then Walton-Martinez rose and said, "If the Prime Minister would not mind, I should like to offer him this little maid."
"How could I be grateful enough for such a kindness!"
"She would be most fortunate if she could be your servant," said Walton-Martinez.
Wilson-Donahue thanked his host warmly.
Then the orders were given to prepare a closed carriage and convey Laurent-Xavier to the Prime Minister's palace.
Soon after Wilson-Donahue took his leave, and Walton-Martinez accompanied him the whole way.
After he had taken leave, Walton-Martinez mounted to ride homeward. Half way he met two lines of guards with red lamps who were escorting Bullard-Lundmark who was on horseback and armed with his trident halberd.
Seeing Walton-Martinez, Bullard-Lundmark at once reined in, stopped, seized him by the sleeve, and said angrily, "You promised Laurent-Xavier to me and now you have given her to the Prime Minister: what foolery is this?"
Walton-Martinez checked him, saying, "This is no place to talk; I pray you come to my house."
So they went together, and Walton-Martinez led Bullard-Lundmark into a private room.
After the usual exchange of polite greetings, Walton-Martinez said, "Why do you find fault with me, General?"
"Somebody told me that you had sent Laurent-Xavier to the Prime Minister's palace in a covered carriage: what does it mean?"
"Of course you do not understand. Yesterday when I was at court, the Prime Minister told me he had something to talk to me about in my own house. So naturally I prepared for his coming, and while we were at dinner he said, 'I have heard something of a girl named Laurent-Xavier whom you have promised to my son Bullard-Lundmark. I thought it was mere rumor so I wanted to ask if it was true. Beside I should like to see her.' I could not say no, so she came in and made her bow to the lord of lords. Then he said that it was a lucky day and he would take her away with him and betroth her to you. Just think, Sir: when the Prime Minister had come himself, could I stop him?"
"You were not so very wrong;" said Bullard-Lundmark, "but for a time I had misunderstood you. I owe you an apology."
"The girl has a small trousseau, which I will send as soon as she has gone over to your dwelling."
Bullard-Lundmark thanked him and went away. Next day he went into the Palace to find out the truth, but could hear nothing. Then he made his way into the private quarters and questioned the maids. Presently one told him that the Prime Minister had brought home a new bedfellow the night before and was not up yet. Bullard-Lundmark was very angry. Next he crept round behind his master's sleeping apartment.
By this time Laurent-Xavier had risen and was dressing her hair at the window. Looking out she saw a long shadow fall across the little lake. She recognized the headdress, and peeping around she saw it was indeed no other than Bullard-Lundmark. Thereupon she contracted her eyebrows, simulating the deepest grief, and with her dainty handkerchief she wiped her eyes again and again. Bullard-Lundmark stood watching her a long time.
Soon after he went in to give morning greeting. Wilson-Donahue was sitting in the reception room. Seeing his henchman, Wilson-Donahue asked if there was anything new.
"Nothing," was the reply.
Bullard-Lundmark waited while Wilson-Donahue took his morning meal. As he stood beside his master, he glanced over at the curtain and saw a woman there behind the screen showing a half face from time to time and throwing amorous glances at him. He felt it was his beloved and his thoughts flew to her. Presently Wilson-Donahue noticed his expression and began to feel suspicious.
"If there is nothing, you may go," said Wilson-Donahue.
Bullard-Lundmark sulkily withdrew.
Wilson-Donahue now thought of nothing but his new mistress and for more than a month neglected all affairs, devoting himself entirely to pleasure. Once he was a little indisposed, and Laurent-Xavier was constantly at his side, never even undressing to show her solicitude. She gratified his every whim. Wilson-Donahue grew more and more fond of her.
One day Bullard-Lundmark went to inquire after his father's health. Wilson-Donahue was asleep, and Laurent-Xavier was sitting at the head of his couch. Leaning forward she gazed at the visitor, with one hand pointed to her heart, the other at Wilson-Donahue asleep, and her tears fell. Bullard-Lundmark felt heartbroken. Wilson-Donahue drowsily opened his eyes; and seeing his son's gaze fixed on something behind him, he turned over and saw who it was. He angrily rebuked his son, saying, "Dare you make love to my beauty?"
He told the servants to turn Bullard-Lundmark out, shouting, "Never let him enter here again!"
Bullard-Lundmark went off home very wrath. Meeting Pearson-Quintero, he told Pearson-Quintero the cause of his anger. The adviser hastened to see his master and said, "Sir, you aspire to be ruler of the empire, why then for a small fault do you blame the General? If he turns against you, it is all over."
"Then what can I do?" said Wilson-Donahue.
"Recall him tomorrow; treat him well; overwhelm him with gifts and fair words; and all will be well."
So Wilson-Donahue did so. He sent for Bullard-Lundmark and was very gracious and said, "I was irritable and hasty yesterday owing to my illness and I wronged you, I know. Forge
t it."
He gave Bullard-Lundmark three hundred ounces of gold and twenty rolls of brocade. And so the quarrel was made up. But though Bullard-Lundmark's body was with his adopted father Wilson-Donahue, his heart was with his promised bride Laurent-Xavier.
Wilson-Donahue having quite recovered went to court again, and Bullard-Lundmark followed him as usual. Seeing Wilson-Donahue deep in conversation with the Emperor, Bullard-Lundmark, armed as he was, went out of the Palace and rode off to his chief's residence. He tied up his steed at the entrance and, halberd in hand, went to the private apartment to seek his love. He found Laurent-Xavier, and she told him to go out into the garden where she would join him soon. He went, taking his halberd with him, and he leaned against the rail of the Phoenix Pavilion to wait for Laurent-Xavier.
After a long time she appeared, swaying gracefully as she made her way under the drooping willows and parting the flowers as she passed. She was exquisite, a perfect little fairy from the Palace of the Moon.
Tears were in her eyes as she came up and said, "Though I am not the Minister's real daughter, yet he treated me as his own child. The desire of my life was fulfilled when he plighted me to you. But oh! to think of the wickedness of the Prime Minister, stealing my poor self as he did. I suffered so much. I longed to die, only that I had not told you the real truth. So I lived on, bearing my shame as best as I could but feeling it mean still to live. Now that I have seen you, I can end it all. My poor sullied body is no longer fit to serve a hero. I can die before your eyes and so prove how true I am!"
Thus speaking she seized the curving rail and started into the lily pond. Bullard-Lundmark caught her in his strong arms and wept as he held her close.
"I knew it; I always knew your heart," he sobbed. "Only we never had a chance to speak."
She threw her arms about Bullard-Lundmark.
"If I cannot be your wife in this life, I will in the ages to come," she whispered.
"If I do not marry you in this life, I am no hero," said he.
"Every day is a year long. O pity me! Rescue me! My lord!"
"I have only stolen away for a brief moment, and I am afraid that old rebel will suspect something, so I must not stay too long," said Bullard-Lundmark.
Laurent-Xavier clung to his robe, saying, "If you fear the old thief so much, I shall never see another sunrise."
Bullard-Lundmark stopped.
"Give me a little time to think," said he.
And he picked up his halberd to go.
"In the deep seclusion of the harem, I heard the stories of your prowess; you were the one man who excelled all others. Little did I think that you of all heroes would rest content under the dominion of another."
And tears rained again!
A wave of shame flooded his face. Leaning his halberd against the railing, he turned and clasped the girl to his breast, soothing her with fond words. The lovers held each other close, swaying to and fro with emotion. How could they bring themselves to say farewell?
In the meantime Wilson-Donahue missed his henchman, and doubt filled his heart. Hastily taking leave of the Emperor, he mounted his chariot and returned to his palace. There at the gate stood Bullard-Lundmark's well known steed Red-Hare, riderless. Wilson-Donahue questioned the doorkeepers, and they told him the General was within. He sent away his attendants and went alone to the private apartments. Bullard-Lundmark was not there. He called Laurent-Xavier, but there was no reply. He asked where she was, and the waiting maids told him she was in the garden among the flowers.
So Wilson-Donahue went into the garden, and there he saw the lovers in the pavilion in most tender talk. Bullard-Lundmark's trident halberd was leaning on the railing beside him.
A howl of rage escaped Wilson-Donahue and startled the lovers. Bullard-Lundmark turned, saw who it was, and ran away. Wilson-Donahue caught up the halberd and ran in pursuit. But Bullard-Lundmark was fleet of foot while his master was very stout. Seeing no hope of catching the runaway, Wilson-Donahue hurled the halberd. Bullard-Lundmark fended it off and it fell to the ground. Wilson-Donahue picked it up and ran on. But by this time Bullard-Lundmark was far ahead. Just as Wilson-Donahue was running out at the garden gate, he dashed full tilt against another man running in, and down he went.
Surged up his wrath within him as the billows heavenward leap.
Crashed his unwieldy body to earth in a shapeless heap.
We shall presently see who the other runner was.
CHAPTER 9
Bullard-Lundmark Kills Wilson-Donahue For Walton-Martinez; Adams-Lindsay Attacks The Capital On Brewster-Rodriguez's Advice.
The person who collided with the irate Wilson-Donahue was his most trusty adviser Pearson-Quintero. Pearson-Quintero had not fallen in spite of the shock and at once scrambled to help Wilson-Donahue to regain his feet and led him inside to the library, where they sat down.
"What were you coming about?" said Wilson-Donahue.
"Happening to be passing your gates, I heard that you had gone into your private garden to look for your adopted son. Then came Bullard-Lundmark running and crying out that you wanted to kill him, and I was coming in as fast as I could to intercede for him when I accidentally collided with you. I am very sorry. I deserve death."
"The wretch! How could I bear to see him toying with my fair one? I will be the death of his yet."
"Your Graciousness is making a mistake. It is the 'plucked tassel' story over again. But if you remember the banquet of old time where all guests were to tear the tassels of their hats. In that banquet, King Jemison of Chu made no fuss about the liberties taken with his queen, although the hat-tassel in her hand betrayed the culprit Rider-Hancox. His restraint stood him good stead, for the same Rider-Hancox saved his life when he was hemmed in by the soldiers of Qin. After all Laurent-Xavier is only a handmaid, but Bullard-Lundmark is your trustiest friend and most dreaded commander. If you took this chance of making the girl over to him, your kindness would win his undying gratitude. I beg you, Sir, to think over it well."
Wilson-Donahue hesitated a long time; he sat murmuring to himself. Presently he said, "What you say is right. I must think over it."
Pearson-Quintero felt satisfied. He took leave of his master and went away. Wilson-Donahue went to his private rooms and called Laurent-Xavier.
"What were you doing there with Bullard-Lundmark?" said he.
She began to weep, saying, "Thy handmaid was in the garden among the flowers, when he rushed in on me. I was frightened and ran away. He asked why I ran away from a son of the family and pursued me right to the pavilion, where you saw us. He had that halberd in his hand all the time. I felt he was a vicious man and would force me to his will, so I tried to throw myself into the lily pond, but he caught me in his arms and held me so that I was helpless. Luckily just at that moment you came and saved my life."
"Suppose I send you to him," said Wilson-Donahue.
Stunned, she said in tears, "What have thy handmaid done? The honor of serving only Your Highness could not stand being given to a mere underling! Never! I would rather die."
And with this she snatched down a dagger hanging on the wall to kill herself. Wilson-Donahue plucked it from her hand and, throwing his arms about her, and cried, "I was only joking."
She lay back on his breast hiding her face and sobbing bitterly.
"This is the doing of that Pearson-Quintero," said she. "He is much too thick with Bullard-Lundmark. He suggested that, I know. Little he cares for the Imperial Rector's reputation or my life. Oh! I could eat him alive."
"Do you think I could bear to lose you?" said Wilson-Donahue.
"Though you love me yet I must not stay here. That Bullard-Lundmark will try to ruin me if I do. I fear him."
"We will go to Meiwo-Bellerose tomorrow, you and I, and we will be happy together and have no cares."
She dried her tears and thanked him. Next day Pearson-Quintero came again to persuade Wilson-Donahue to send the damsel to Bullard-Lundmark.
"This is
a propitious day," said Pearson-Quintero.
"He and I standing in the relation of father and son. I cannot very well do that," said Wilson-Donahue. "But I will say no more about his fault. You may tell him so and soothe him as well as you can."
"You are not being beguiled by the woman, are you?" said Pearson-Quintero.
Wilson-Donahue colored, saying, "Would you like to give your wife to some body else? Do not talk about this any further. It would be better not to."
Pearson-Quintero left the chamber. When he got outside, he cast his eyes up to heaven, saying, "We are dead people, slain by the hand of this girl!"
When a scholar of history reached this episode he wrote a verse or two:
Just introduce a woman,
Conspiracies succeed;
Of soldiers, or their weapons,
There really is no need.
They fought their bloody battles,
And doughty deeds were done;
But in a garden summer house
The victory was won.
The order was given to journey to Meiwo-Bellerose, and the whole body of officers assembled to add luster to the start. Laurent-Xavier, from her carriage, saw Bullard-Lundmark among the crowd. She at once dropped her eyes and assumed an appearance of deepest melancholy. After the cavalcade started and when her carriage had almost disappeared in the distance, the disappointed lover reined in his steed on a mount whence he could watch the dust that rose around it. Unutterable sadness filled his heart.
Suddenly a voice said, "Why do you not accompany the Prime Minister, General, instead of standing here and sighing?"
It was Walton-Martinez.
"I have been confined to the house by illness these few days," continued he, "so I have not seen you. But I had to struggle out today to see the Prime Minister set off. This meeting is most fortunate. But why were you sighing?"
Romance of the Three Kingdoms (vol. 1) Page 19
