The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and Vagres
Page 9
CHAPTER III.
AT THE CHAPEL OF ST. LOUP.
The Vagres arrived near the episcopal villa.
"Ronan, the gates are solid, the windows high, the walls thick--howshall we penetrate into the place and reach the bishop?" asked theMaster of the Hounds. "You promised to lead us to the very heart of thehouse. As for me, I'm off to the heart of the bishopess."
"Brothers, do you see yonder, at the foot of the hill, that littlestructure surrounded by pillars?"
"We see it--the night is clear!"
"That building was formerly a warm water bath. The warm spring lay inthe mountain. The bath is reached from the villa by a long undergroundgallery. The bishop had the stream turned away, and transformed theformer bath into a chapel that he consecrated to St. Loup. Now, then, mysturdy Vagres, we will penetrate to the very heart of the episcopalvilla by that underground gallery, without need of boring holes throughwalls or breaking doors or windows. If I promised, did I keep?"
"As always, Ronan! You promised and kept!"
The troop entered the former warm water bath, now chapel of St. Loup. Itwas dark as a pocket. A voice was heard saying:
"Is that you, Ronan?"
"I and mine. Lead, Simon, you good servant of the episcopal villa! Leadon, we follow."
"We shall have to wait."
"Why delay?"
"Count Neroweg is still with the bishop, with his leudes."
"All the better! We shall capture a fox and a wild-boar at once! Asuperb hunt!"
"The count has with him twenty-four well armed leudes."
"We are thirty! That is fifteen Vagres more than enough for such a raid.Lead on, Simon, we follow."
"The passage is not yet free."
"Why is not the passage free that leads underground into the banquethall?"
"The bishop prepared a miracle for this evening, in order to frightenthe Frankish count with hell. Two clerks carried into the apartmentunder the banquet hall large bales of hay, bundles of fagots and boxesof sulphur. They are to set them on fire and yell like devils possessed;then one of the mosaic slabs of the flooring in the hall will sink down;it drops by means of the same contrivance that used to remove it inorder to descend to this gallery for the warm baths."
"And the stupid Frank, imagining he sees one of the mouths of hellyawning wide, will make some generous donation to the holy man--"
"You guessed it, Ronan. So, then, we shall have to wait until themiracle is over. When the count is gone and the villa slumbering you andyour men can come in safely."
"The bishopess for me!"
"To us the iron money-chest, the gold and silver vases! To us thebishop's full money-bags--and then we shall scatter alms among the poorwho have not a denier!"
"To us," cried another set, "the full wine pouches and bags of grain--tous the hams and smoked meats! Alms, alms to the poor who hunger!"
"To all of us the wardrobes, the fine clothes, the warm robes--and thenalms, alms to the poor who suffer with cold!"
"And then, fire to the episcopal villa--and to the sack!"
"Freedom to the slaves!"
"We shall take with us the young girls, who will follow us gladly!"
"Long live love and the Vagrery!" cried Ronan, saying which he struck upthe song:
"My father was a Bagauder, and I a Vagre am; born under the green foliage as any bird in May.
"Where is my mother? I do not know, forsooth!
"A Vagre has no wife.
"The poniard in one hand, the torch held in the other, he moves from burg to burg and villas kept by bishops; he carries off the wives or concubines of bishops and of counts, and takes the belles along into the thickest of the woods!
"And first they weep and then they laugh. The jolly Vagre knows the art of love. In his strong arms the loving belles forget full soon the cacochymic bishop or the brutified duke!"
"Long live the Vagre's love!"
"You are in rollicking mood--"
"Aye, Simon, we are about to put a bishop's house to the sack!"
"You will be hanged, burned, quartered!"
"No more nor less so than Aman and Aelian, our prophets, Bagauders intheir days as we are Vagres in ours. For all that, the poor say: 'GoodAelian!' 'Good Aman!' May they some day say: 'Good Ronan!' I would diehappy, Simon!"
"Always living in the recesses of the woods--"
"Verdure is so cheerful!"
"At the bottom of caverns--"
"It is warm there in winter, cool in summer!"
"Always on the alert; always on the run over hill and valley; alwayswandering without hearth or home--"
"But always living free, old Simon. Yes, free! free! instead of leadinga slave's life under the whip of some Frankish master or some bishop!Join us, Simon!"
"I am too old for that!"
"Do you not hate your master, Bishop Cautin, and the whole seigniory?"
"One time I was young, rich and happy. The Franks invaded Touraine, mynative country. They slew my wife after violating her; they dashed mylittle girl's head against the wall; they pillaged my house; they soldme into slavery, and from master to master, I have finally fallen intothe hands of Bishop Cautin. So you see, I have every reason to execratethe Franks; but worse than them, if possible, I execrate the Gallicbishops, who hold us Gauls in bondage, and sanctify the crime of ourforeign oppressors. I would hang them all if I could!"
"Who goes there?" cried Ronan noticing a human form on the outside,creeping on its knees and approaching the door of the chapel in thatposture. "Who goes there?"
"I, Felibien, ecclesiastical slave of our holy bishop."
"Poor man! Why do you crawl on your knees in that style?"
"It is in obedience to a vow that I took. I come on my knees--over thestones of the road--to pray to St. Loup, the great St. Loup, to whomthis chapel is dedicated. I come at night so that I may be back at dawnwhen I must start to work. My hut is far from here."
"But why do you inflict such a punishment upon yourself, brother? Is itnot hard enough to have to rise with the sun, and to lie down upon strawat night worn out with fatigue?"
"I come upon my knees to pray St. Loup, the great St. Loup, to requestthe Lord to grant a long and happy life to our seigneur, the bishop."
"To pray for a long and happy life for your master is to pray for alengthening of the whip of the superintendents who flay your back."
"Blessed be their blows! The more we suffer here below, all the happierwill we be in paradise!"
"But the wheat that you sow is eaten by your bishop; the wine that youpress is drunk by him; the cloth that you weave, clothes him--and youremain wan, hungry, in rags!"
"I would be willing to feed on the offal of swine, clothe myself inthorns that tear my skin to the veins--my happiness will be all thegreater in paradise!"
"The Lord created the grain, the grapes, the honey, the fruits, thecreamy milk, the soft fleece of the sheep--was all that done in orderthat any of His creatures should live on ordure and dress in thorns?Answer me, my poor brother."
"You are an impious fellow!"
"Alas! Almost all the slaves are, like this unhappy fellow, steeped inthe abjectest besotment--the evil spreads by the day--it is done for oldGaul--"
"If so, let us sing the refrain of the Vagres:
"The Franks call us 'Wand'ring Men,' 'Wolves,' 'Wolves' Heads'--Let us live like wolves! Let us live in joy! In summer under the green foliage, in winter in caverns warm!"
"Come, Simon, the bishop's miracle must be over by this time."
"Yes--I shall precede you alone, a little way in this undergroundpassage; should I see light I shall return and notify you."
"But what about that slave, who is mumbling his prayers on his knees tothe great St. Loup?"
"Lightning might strike at his very feet and he would not budge from thespot--he will go back as he came, on his knees. Follow me!"
And led by the ecclesiastical slave, the Vagres
vanished in thesubterranean passage which led from the former warm baths into theepiscopal villa. As they proceeded in the dark, they sang in anundertone:
"The jolly Vagre has no wife. The poniard in one hand, the torch held in the other, he moves from burg to burg and villas kept by bishops; he carries off the wives and concubines of bishops and of counts, and takes the belles along into the thickest of the woods!"