K A R A D AC COUNT OF GERSAY A ROMANCE BY K. gf HESKETH PRICHARD Authors of "A MODERN MERCENARY," Etc. NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY, PUBLISHERS Copyright, 1901, by FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY All rights r carved " Daughters of dreams and of stories." SWINBURNE. " If a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned." CANTICLES. AUTHORS' NOTE DESPITE all efforts made during the five years which this book has occupied us, we have been unable to find any record of Jersey history descriptive of the period with which the story deals. But we are indebted for side-lights on the subject to various old chronicles as, for instance, the Roman de Rou, written by one Robert Wace, a Jerseyman, through which are scattered allusions to the Island. K. AND HESKETH PRICHARD 2137780 CONTENTS. Book I. LOVE'S MIRACLE. CHAP. PAGE I. DREAMS 3 II. THE SHADOW OF LOVE 13 III. CRITICS OF ELD .... ^ . 25 IV. THE GREAT QUESTION 32 V. LOVE'S OATH ...... 41 VI. LOVE'S CURSE 50 VII. WHAT THE RED MOON SAW . . . .58 VIII. THROUGH THE CRYING WIND . . ,68 Book II. GOYAULT. I. A SUDDEN BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR . .81 II. SWEET AND SWIFT 93 III. THE DEAD EAGLE 105 IV. THE HOUR OF GOYAULT . . . .113 V. THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE . . . .123 VI. THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT .... 134 ix x CONTENTS. Book III. G U N D R E D. CHAP. FACE I. THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN . . . .147 II. LOVE'S CHANGELING 158 III. LOVE'S MOCKERY 166 IV. THE COMING OF ALGITHA . . . .176 V. THE MARRIAGE FEAST 187 VI. AFTER 200 VII. GOYAULT'S WIFE 209 VIII. " THE CHORD OF SELF " . . . .217 Book IV. LOVE'S VICTORY. I. ALGITHA 229 II. GUNDRED 239 III. KARADAC . 250 IV. GOYAULT 262 V. GUNDRED'S CHAMPION 267 VI. THE TOWER IN THE SEA .... 276 VII. THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY . . 282 VIII. VICTORY 290 EPILOGUE ........ 296 BOOK I. LOVE'S MIRACLE. Daughters of Dreams. CHAPTER I. DREAMS. IT was a time long long ago, past the distant hills of other lives, lived somewhere in the mist be- yond them. Part savage and part beautiful the now forgotten tenour of horse at morn, and court- yard and hall in the eventide. Half lost in the golden glory of romance, yet none the less were men men and women women as we love them now. Knight and lady, a procession moving in the mys- tery of an aeon's twilight. Sleepers in stone in ancient chapels, dead lovers and dead loves, who long ago turned their faces to the wall. Knights, mailed and sworded, with lives perhaps as fantastic as their armour, whose hot days ended, the bar- baric clay was laid to its abiding rest with pageantry. Ladies, clothed in a seemliness of cer- emony, bearers of great names, northern passion- flowers, who scorned and loved and lastly slept. And in the quiet chapels through mullioned win- dows the green evening light grew in and closed about them and their age. Other histories have scrawled themselves over 4 DREAMS. the names of Karadac Count of Gersay, of Goyault, of Algitha and Gundred. Thor aide, the battle-cry of the Cotentin and the Isles, even then a Danish anachronism, has now its only memory in chronicle and stone. But the same hills looked on them and upon us, and yet will look on our forgetting. Our fevered lives too will sink away into a far-off din and then we too shall be enveloped in the en- croaching silence, which walks a little, always a very little, way behind us. It is this very silence that forms the background against which we flash out our appointed lives. We are ever racing before it a hopeless race, as children race before a cloud- shadow on a hillside, until it swallows us and blots out the sun for ever. On a summer night, while William the Norman yet dreamed of Edward's crown and Harold kept the marches of Edward's kingdom, the island of Gersay, with its dark fringe of forest, swamp and rock, lay a sombrous jewel in the setting of moon- lit sea. The tide was high, and a shining shield of water filled the bay, with the long black shadow of a reef flung like a scabbarded sword across its brightness. Warm airs, soft and sensuous, floated over from the island, whose wooded summits hung dim against the northern sky. On the seaward end of the reef, behind an up- standing shaft of granite, yawned the deep mouth of a cave. DREAMS. 5 " You seek for love, my son ? " The hermit stood on the ledge above, his white hair and beard gleaming pale against the cavern's gloom. At his feet in the open moonlight sat Karadac, haute seigneur of Gersay ; down below in the tri- angular shadow of the cleft a little boat balanced on a heave of water. " Aye, father, seek it through all the seasons an endless tarrying quest ! " Karadac had not raised his head to reply ; he brooded despondently upon the tremulous horizon southwards, his black hair bare to the light. "Since last I saw you, Karadac, I have heard overmuch of dalliance. You, my own pupil and ward it was not so once with you ! Is this con- fession ? " The Count laughed drily. " No. If there be One above, He Who has created me body and soul can read the intent of my heart, and by His judgment alone at the last I shall stand or fall. No, father, not confession." The hermit climbed slowly down to the weedy ridge beside the Count. " There are two kinds of love," he said, " love mortal and love immortal." Karadac moved impatiently. " I seek human love. I am young, give me mortal love ! So, it may be when I am grown old this mortal love may lead me upward to the love divine." 6 DREAMS. "Is all human love but mortal then?" The hermit put the question with a ring in his voice. " So I have ever found it," the Count said bit- terly. " Yet once I too dreamed of love immortal to be held in mortal hands, but it was a dream." " You have sought love in dalliance. My son, break off from that quest, and wait until love im- mortal seeks you. You cannot paddle in sin and go with white feet before the throne of God." " What care I so I find love the supreme love that binds man to woman, the love that draws two so they be together unto heaven, or sinks them, if their sin be heavy, deep to hell ! Possessing such love, a man might dare damnation. Without it ' the young man's head fell upon his breast. He broke off and the hermit looked at him. The dark noble head, the long limbs, hunter and warrior and ruler, in his comely youth he yearned for love : was it ordained that from him also love should dwell afar always ? In the silence the water sucked and gurgled with caressing lips under the boat. " I walked with white feet in my early days," re- sumed Karadac ; " yes, in those early days when temptation stirs most strongly in a boy's heart. And if I have sinned since then, how can a man know what love is unless he seek it ? There was a nine days' wonder with me once I thought I had found ! I thought it for nine days and nine nights ! " " At what season ? " the cool voice cut in upon the passionate tones. DREAMS. 7 " In spring." " Satan is loosed in spring." " He rides his marches with zest at other seasons also," rejoined the Count derisively. "But you are right, he possessed her ! And I am still alone." " I have been alone these seventy years ! " " Old man, when you were young if ever you were young have you not felt as I feel here to- night ?" The hermit touched the Count upon the shoulder. " Look in my eyes," he said. And Karadac looked. At first sight the high, worn, ascetic features seemed those of some blame- less saint, but the empty eyes, lit on a sudden with a fire and passion of life, were eloquent of battles lost and battles fought again. A great awe came upon Karadac as he followed the furrows upon the bloodless face, which told of a sorer struggle than ever he in his strong youth had known. " You have read ? " the hermit asked. " Perchance the moon and the night have fooled me," returned Karadac, " but it seems that I read here in your eyes that you too you too " he gripped the gaunt hand under its sleeve of coarse brown, " it seems to me that you too Speak, Ulake, we are not priest and penitent to-night what are we here but man and man ? " Ulake turned his face upwards to the moon and raised his arms. 8 DREAMS. " I too," he cried, " I too was once as you are now ! As great, as fierce, as masterful of fate, as hopeful, as hungry for that best sweet gift of love ! I too sought, and it took me thirty years of sin to know the baffling of all hope. It has taken me thirty further years, grey years, my son to live the wild old passion out of me." " But love " cried Karadac, " I would not live love out of me ! I am full knight and fuller man." " So was I once." "And now? " " I know not," said Ulake heavily. " I only know it is better far never to kiss than to kiss wrong." "Never to kiss? I've kissed a thousand times and still I am loveless ! No woman born of woman comes to me in my dreams. At times I try to build her from the void, deep eyes and golden hair, blushed, rounded, beautiful ! The whole sweet vision lit by some great noble faithful soul. And this fancy of my mind stoops to me from the night, and as she stoops, she fades away into the stars and will not stay with me ! " " And your high ideal dwelling among the stars, you descend to clay, fouling your hands in the vain effort to build her image her glorious image out of slime and mire ! So you are left to grope? " " Aye, Ulake, and you ? " " Once there was a far-off, half-remembered man called not Ulake who was as you are. He is gone ! " DREAMS. 9 " Then you have never found never loved ? " Despair echoed in the question as the Count flung himself face downward upon the rock, and for a while in silence he watched a little moonlit pool fill slowly with the tide. The water throbbed like the pulse in a girl's throat, and on a sudden he sprang up stark against the sky. " I must love ! Other- wise but there can be no otherwise for me ! Ulake, am I not young, lord of my own isle, a man whom women look upon with favour?" " Aye," responded the other sadly, " and are not all these things against you ? I too have noble blood, and I was strong and comely once as you, Karadac, to-day. And yet, though long I sought, I did not find." " You were blind, old man ! " cried the Count aloud, but it was the accent of one who will not believe in evil tidings, even when their bitter truth grows urgent on the heart. "Nay, not blind, but perchance I was groping in the mire when the angel unawares passed above my bowed head." 4< Fool, I had not missed her so ! I should have felt her near. My heart," the young man clasped his hands together upon his breast, " my heart must have warned me, ' Karadac, look up, thy beloved is nigh ! ' ' The proud words rose exultantly above the ca- dences of the summer sea, but the hermit shook his head and sighed. The Count shivered. The fire io DREAMS. of his young manhood chilled before the inexor- able disenchantment of age. His clenched hand fell to his side, his eyes swept round the wide vista of the night. Somewhere outside those dim hori- zons she dwelt whom his soul yearned for, but his voice could not reach her, cried he never so fiercely. The soft night full of vague sweet promise wooed his senses and half convinced him of the future, till once more his gaze fell on the figure at his feet, that worn-out negation of earthly hope, and again his heart failed him. He almost crouched beside the hermit, and his question was an entreaty. " What then shall I do ? " "Wait." Karadac paused for an instant on the check of the one command which in youth seems made only to deaden the vitality, the sweetness of effort. " Wait ? I have waited ! In two years' time I shall be thirty years old. My youth is slipping away from me, and the desire of my heart remains unfulfilled. I have waited I have prayed, old man, prayed the moon down from the heavens and the sun into the dawn, and what am I in any way the better?" Ulake raised his weary eyes. " In every way the better, my son. Is a prayer lost because the answer comes not to the hour of our desire ? Shall we set seasons for the Almighty ? " The rebuke ceased on the old man's lips as Karadac bowed his head. DREAMS. ii " What shall I do ? " he repeated. " Pray and fast. Fast not only from flesh but sin. That is the true fast which few allow or follow. And having done these things, wait. Love is not found by seeking. It comes as the showers come from the hand of God. My life has been barren that is all. I sinned in the seeking." " I too have sinned," said Karadac, and his voice gained strength. " Nevertheless have I only used sin as the road that was to lead me to my high aim." " The wrong road never yet led to the right place." " An aphorism ! The man who has not the spirit to do wrong has seldom the courage to do right." " A subtlety ! " retorted Ulake. " Karadac, you are strong in body and soul, in spirit and in heart. It is not given to many to love as you could love. Blessing and curse go linked together in this world, the gift is bestowed without the power to use it as a man would choose. It may be that love will yet come to you in earthly guise, or perchance your thirst like mine may slake itself at the fountain of love divine. Wait. It grows late, my son, come to my dwelling. It is a calm place and a placid. Thirty years of prayer have consecrated its walls. Sleep there." Karadac rose up and followed Ulake. The moon had sunk behind the black headland of Noir- mont, the salt cool wind stole in through the rocky 12 DREAMS. crevices and stirred the hair of Karadac where the holy man bade him lie upon a bed of bracken. So the night wore toward morning, and in the breaks of a sweet tired slumber there came to him at intervals the strenuous wrestlings of the hermit's prayer. CHAPTER II. THE SHADOW OF LOVE. IN the morning he rose early from his bed of bracken and broke his fast. It was a cold dawn, but it heralded in a fair day of early summer. Be- fore the sun stood a handsbreadth above the hori- zon, Karadac had left the black forest-marsh behind him and was riding upwards to the higher levels. Turning his face westwards he travelled along the edge of the grassy cliffs, whence he looked down on lush sea-meadows spread with cattle grazing, and here and there a patch of tillage whereon a few poor hovels clustered round the dwelling of some richer serf. In those ancient days the lights of heaven wan- dered far before they struck an answer from roof and tower. Through the great breadth of the un- peopled lands beasts roamed, gaunt wolves, grunt- ing grubbing bears, and fierce boars hiding in the thickets. And so it was with Karadac's island. For the tradition still lived that the vast forests and swamps between Gersay and the Norman coast were once continuous, before a great storm rushing from the north had torn the land in sunder. Again 14 THE SHADOW OF LOVE. another legend told of a later deluge and an earth- quake lasting seven days, that flung up the white cliffs on the now distant mainland, and made a second cleavage of the primeval forest of Sciscy, sucking its giant oaks and yews down into the sea- floor, whence they rose at intervals, a rent trunk here and there to bear witness to the dead glory of their vast native woodland. In Gersay all about the sunlit shores in open places where the gorse gleamed golden on the heights and the blue sea lapped upon the sand, the people dwelt, simple folk who one and all lived as children and thought as children half-sweet, half- terrifying imaginations of great adventures, of dragons lurking by the reedy margins of the lakes, and giants striding on the wooded ridges. All the island's heart was wrapped in mystery ; none were known to live there, yet watchers, gazing up through vistas of rich deep verdure and hanging greenery, whispered of distant figures walking in the turnings of the hills ; some told of half-seen visions of dreadful things that gaped with flaming jaws, and others spoke of sorcery and enchanted songs tempting the wanderer astray until he plunged at unawares into some dark water lying hidden in the vales. Even Karadac, who often rode to hunt far up those dreamy valleys with their wealth of green, could not escape the thrill which clung about this haunted heart of his kingdom, the thrill of sudden THE SHADOW OF LOVE. 15 shining pools and windings of dim paths through the moss and grass of green-branched solitudes where no foot had passed to tread them. Yet it was there that he loved to ride alone and to dream of all he yearned for. Karadac, whom the Normans called Count of Gersay, was kin to Conan, chief of the Bretons, and the island had become an extended fief of Nor- mandy at the same time that Bretagne chose to ac- cept the feudal yoke, rather as a means of common defence than with any thought of submission. Much of the old proud Armorican blood ran in their veins, they remained to a large extent inde- pendent of their overlord, and William for the mo- ment was too busy with his schemes of conquest to pay much heed to the doings of his remoter vassals. It was this same Conan who a few years later sent a haughty demand to William requiring him, since he was about to become King of England, to deliver up his Norman duchy to its legitimate lord, the de- scendant of Rollo the Ganger, from whom Conan claimed issue on the distaff side. Which daring message was the Breton chief's death warrant, for he died of a strange poison but a little while after. Karadac with his Armorican blood inherited not only a quenchless pride but also an underlying strain of that melancholy which is the sign of deep- rooted forces of life and thought. Through the blossoming morning the Count rode on. At his back the sun smote flashes from the 16 THE SHADOW OF LOVE. white coasts of the Cotentin, and on the heights the west wind met him pure with its flight across the wastes of an unsailed sea. His mood was changed. Refreshed with sleep, he had thrown off the despondency of the night ; the sap of the springing season had gone into him and he lived in all his veins as a man should through the ten full-blooded summers of his twenties. He rode through a land of boulders and of gorse. The scent of the yellow blooms hung rich upon the sunny wind and Karadac drew a happy augury for the future from the crowd of living fragrant blooms, nor in his humour took any note of the petals which lay dead and discoloured on the turf below. For nine years Karadac had ruled as Count, ruled with a justice and a wisdom rare enough in those days, his judgments shot here and there with silken strands of mercy. The exigencies of the age joined to the stimulus of splendid physical powers had made him a man of action, but below lay the dumb spirit of a poet, dumb inasmuch as it could not spend itself in vapourings and words, but dealt him out a hard measure of crossing moods. Often the real and the ideal met with a shock that stunned him, sent him wandering lost in a vain effort to reconcile the twain. Yet in spite of many troubled hours such as these, his heart led him on a straight fair road. He was ruled by ideas often, ideas which are the stepping- stones to ideals. He was capable of a great life in THE SHADOW OF LOVE. 17 public, but his individual life was destined to be a deluge or an idyll. There he was always in ex- tremes. As the noon came on he dismounted and lay be- neath a tree and dreamed all the long bright hours through until the sun began to drop towards the west. The day was going ; it was time to rise and turn rein for his own castle of Mont Orgueil. In the soft afternoon he saw below him Ulake's hermitage, black upon the sunlit water. The wind had dropped to transient wandering airs which here and there brushed the still sea into blurs of ruffled brown as if a handful of sand had been thrown upon it. Leaving the bay behind, he mounted another crest of land and following an open track by woods and fields he came in the late afternoon upon a hamlet lying on the verge of a rock-piled strand. As he drew nearer he saw that all the people, men and women alike, stood round a man on horse- back who carried something square, flat and large before him on the saddle. He held his arms about it, and its upper edge rested against his breast. The voices rose hoarse and angry upon the quiet air. The people demanded something of the rider which he would not grant, but spurred his horse forward yet could not break through the grip of hands upon his bridle rein. Softly through the dusty grass stepped the Count's charger until a woman turning saw him i8 THE SHADOW OF LOVE. come. But her cry of warning died upon her lips at sight of his upraised hand. " What is it that you ask of this stranger ? " The rough crowd of fishers and tillers of the soil knew the voice of authority and fell silent. They faced the Count half-cowed and sullen, the low sun burning in their eyes. They saw a knight, but through the close visor could not recognise the Count. " A picture, lord," cried out a voice at last, a woman's shrill voice ; " the picture of the blessed Virgin and he will not let us look upon it that we and our children may win good luck and food for winter- time." " Is this so, stranger ? " demanded Karadac. " Nay, lord, it is but the picture of a damsel which I bear to the Count Karadac of this Isle. I dare not finger the thing to open it, or it will take harm from sun and dust, and it is the picture of that lovely lady, Algitha, daughter of Algar, lord of Avening and brother to Br-ithric Maude, lord of the honour of Gloucester." " Then you come from England ? " " No, lord, from the island of Grenezay, whither Algar has been forced to flee because of his brother's rebellion. Some say also that the Lady Algitha refused to wed with the Norman lord Gauthier de Morlaix, who pressed for her hand at Edward's court, and the king grew angry for he loves a Norman as his own soul. Thus for the THE SHADOW OF LOVE. 19 maid's sake, she being stubborn, and his own safety, Algar escaped to Grenezay, where he has dwelt these four months past with Jean de Jo- bourg." " Jean de Jobourg?" " Aye, one of our chevaliers whom Duke Robert set to be lord of his new castle of Jobourg," the man replied. The Count pondered. A little chapel stood be- side the wayside, a poor half-ruined place, the sign of a Christianity that had died but was alive again. The Count swung from his horse and called the messenger to follow him. " Come in hither. I would see the picture." The man did not guess who the tall man might be, but yet he dared not disobey. Climbing slowly from his saddle he carried his burden through the gaping door, the people crowding close upon his heels. But them Karadac drove out, and yet they gathered back, and pushed a chequer of peeping faces between the old stone lintels. The little chapel was dark within from its poor earthen floor to the dim roof, save for a ray of sun- shine which entered from a slitted window in the wall and lay a broad and quivering line across the foot of the shrine. Coming from the glare and dust outside, something of a holy calm seemed to mingle with the dusk coolness of the place. The messenger stood reluctant in the centre of the gloom. 20 THE SHADOW OF LOVE. " The picture and my message are for Karadac the Count," he repeated sullenly. Karadac laughed a little. " Yet must I look upon it, friend," he said. A mingled groan and shout rose from the door- way. The messenger knew it for a threat. Slowly he withdrew the wrappings, and holding the picture between his open palms laid it below the shrine where the light should fall upon it. At first Karadac looked with a dull uninterest. Then he looked again. The picture showed a door frame of carved stonework : within its greyness stood a girl, who seemed to pause upon the threshold and look back with eyes that held the gazer tranced, they were so full of girlish mysteries and that woman's lore, elusive, tender, sweet, a man is ever fain to read, and ever finds, however much he learns, that still beyond his ken lies some withdrawal, some delicate reserve. The warm and living vision framed in cold stone smote the Count's eyes, it was so like to that which stooped to him from the night-skies, " deep eyes and golden hair, blushed, rounded, beautiful." He drew nearer still ; as he moved his armour clanked. " Stand back ! " And at the words the messen- ger stepped backwards scowling. The score of gaping faces that hung clustered in the doorway grew very still, for the ring of the masterful command echoed to the roof. Then THE SHADOW OF LOVE. 21 Karadac, with his back to all the world, slipped aside the nose piece of his pointed helmet to gaze his fill. For this was love ! As he saw them now at closer hand, the pleading eyes were pure clear blue. Karadac stood breath- less, his heart leaped from his breast, a delicious aching in the loss. And still those eyes absorbed him. All that he had dreamed of, yearned of, all the vague promise in his blood, stirred by the springtime or crying through the summer nights, lay sphered within those eyes, which seemed to hold for him the supreme mystery of womanhood and love. How long he stood he never knew. The last ray of the sun crept slowly upwards, leaving first her feet and then her fair, slim shape, and then the rising darkness touched her throat and wrapped her lips. And still the Count heeded not until the dying light, centred in her eyes, lent them a sudden unearthly radiance that was almost speech. Was she calling him, this girl ? The illusion quickened on him ; he held his breath to hear. And at the instant the sun-gleam faded, leapt up into the darkness and was gone. In the dusk Karadac closed his visor and turned. " This damsel, who is she ? " " I have said. This is the Lady Algitha, daughter of Algar, lord of Avening. She is accused " "Accused?" The Count's voice rose wrathfully. " Accused ? " 22 THE SHADOW OF LOVE. " Aye, accused of witchcraft. Listen, lord, since you have made me speak. I am the messenger of Earl Algar, and he bade me bring the portrait here, for none in England or in Grenezay will fight for her." " She has no champion ? " " Not one, for she will not wed, and that many people hold to be by enchantment. For what girl, though highly born, was ever loath to wed a noble lover?" "And who first accused her?" asked the Count. " Sir Gauthier de Morlaix, who in England de- sired the Lady Algitha, but she would none of him. So he followed her to Grenezay, and after much was said and many hot words had come and gone, he openly accused her. For that he swore she had bewitched him, since whether he will or no he can by no means cure himself of desire for the damsel. And all the winter past, he has not gone forth to hunt but has kept within his castle (which King Edward has bestowed on him out of Earl Godwin's lands), because he is still sick of love. Most of our seigneurs in Grenezay now side with him. At length Sir Jean de Jobourg called upon Sir Gauthier to make good his foul words upon the body of her champion, whomsoever the Lady Algitha shall choose. But she will not choose, since all the lords of Edward's court and ours at Grenezay refuse to fight for her unless she promise to marry of her own free will him who wins, and so shall she prove herself whole woman, pure of witch- THE SHADOW OF LOVE. 23 craft and devil's lore. But this she will not promise. And she has spoken bitterly of our knights, calling them unworthy that will not fight for love of truth and chivalry alone but must needs have a set reward to lure them to the lists. And after that was told abroad, no champion offered to espouse her cause." " Then why are you come here ? " " By order of the Lady Algitha herself, for she said, ' Perhaps over the sea, in the Isle of Gersay, some noble knight may be found to do "battle for me.' " A great silence fell while Karadac pondered. Then she had called him, Karadac, to do battle for her! It was enough! Presently he bethought himself. " Get to horse and carry your picture to the Castle of Mont Orgueil," he said. " There you will find a champion. Sir Gauthier shall be overthrown before the summer leaves are full upon the trees." The messenger raised the picture in the darkness. " I know not. Have you no fear of witchcraft in this realm? Many would fight for the beauty of the damsel's face, but all mislike the tale I needs must tell," he said. " I have heard it," replied the Count ; " yet am I willing." " But has it also been told to you that this Sir ("iauthier of Morlaix is a vast man, and never yet was overthrown ?" went on the fellow, with a sour laugh in his beard. 24 THE SHADOW OF LOVE. "I have seen him," said the Count, "and yet I am willing. Ride you on to Gouray say nothing of me and I will presently follow there." " The Lady Algitha's champion will need to ride with no loose stirrup," returned the man as he gained the door. " If none be found for her within three days she shall be accounted guilty by default, and whatsoever Sir Gauthier and his knights may judge shall be done to her in punishment. Thus her name among all true women must be abased for ever." " Ride on," said Karadac. And when the man was gone, with all the people following him, the Count drew forth his sword, and holding up the cross-hilt to his lips and breast he took his oath before the shrine. None should hinder him from going to this maiden's rescue. She who had called to him across sea and land for help, and his heart had heard and answered her ! Before God's shrine he had met with her, his love, and so would he get him back to Ulake's hermitage and there pass the night in thanking the Giver for His great gift. Afterwards he would ride betimes to Mont Orgueil and make answer to the herald. So he did. Mounting the crested land and thence riding down the sloping beaches to the sea, he took boat, and under the cold moon high in heaven spent the night in prayer. CHAPTER III. CRITICS OF ELD. THE headland of Mont Orgueil, crowned with its castle, looked eastward toward France. To right and left two horseshoe bays, bitten out from the green land, turned tall and jagged edges to the Channel tides, which leaped in white spray about the scattered reefs at the Mount's weedy bases. To the north curved savage bays, one dark beyond the other, and here and there rose wooded heights in- land, fringed black against the sky by day and crowned with stars by night. Upon the ramparts of the castle two men stood together in the windy morning, and looked out over the broken gorse-clad uplands that lay between the castle and the distant woods. "Where is the Count? "asked Tonstain, a man of a fine persuasive presence, black-eyed, black- browed, but his thick hair already turned white as snow. Some had it that this violent encounter of youth and age set in one body marred his looks ; others, pleased with the variance, vowed it marked him from the common herd and fitted signally with his high renown. For the seigneur of Grouville had 26 CRITICS OF ELD. skill in much strange knowledge, and worked cures among the wounded and the sick at which the peo- o A pie marvelled. His companion mumbled in his beard. "Who knows?" he said aloud, and shook his head. " He loves to ride alone." " Alone ? Yes, he rides forth alone, but who can tell ? " and Drogo de Barantin drew his lips in- wards as one who could say much but will not. Tonstain looked down at him, for Barantin was small and old and ugly, with foolish, anxious eyes deepset in a seared face. " You are his chief adviser, and the Count seems not ashamed of many loves so I am told," Ton- stain went on. " I am Duke William's seneschal of all his lands in Gersay. You have read the words written, ' Ton- stain, for you are a clerk,' ' he raised his voice to a high pompous note, " ' and in that which concerns our goods and personal affairs, have full confidence in our well-beloved Drogo de Barantin, seigneur of Rozel.' " " Yes, yes, many a time and often I have heard of it ! " interrupted Tonstain glibly. "Aye, and seen it with your eyes," insisted the old man. " In Gersay here I stand for the Duke himself. In the old Count's time, when you were young and journeying to the Holy Sepulchre, I was his chief counsellor and friend. With this CRITICS OF ELD. 27 Karadac I hold but slight authority. He acts not on my counsels but his own. The times are sadly changed, Tonstain, I rule no longer I obey." " Karadac is his own man, truly," said the other as if he mused. " He hearkens to me with his grave face, and he will own he lacks experience, but he lives and thinks alone except of late. Goyault of Gros- Nez, since he returned full of adventures from across the seas, has won much upon the Count." "You should find the Count a wife." Tonstain's glance fell slily on the disquiet face, whose hundred monkey wrinkles creased together more closely at the words. "That I cannot. He is hard to understand. Of late he has been light of love, yet all his youth was stainless. There are noble ladies he might win whose tendance and whose tenderness would draw him home from these strange wanderings in the hills. But no he will not, no ! " He shook his head again despondingly. " What think you of this message from Gren- ezay ? Will he go forth upon this English damsel's quest?" "As like as not as like as not! I will advise him to stay safe at home. I doubt the issue. For it will anger Duke William when he hears that Karadac has gone to fight the knight of Morlaix for some vagrant Saxon slut ! " " Have you seen the picture, Sir Drogo ? The 28 CRITICS OF ELD. damsel is very beautiful, and Karadac, for all his solitary communings and lone ventures, is a man." " Yes, but she is smirched with witchcraft, and he is proud." " Whom would you have him wed ? " " A lady of his blood and land, one that we know and love. Pah, these foolish quests ! " He sat down as one wearied in an embrasure of the par- apets, and looked up with narrowed eyelids sus- piciously at his companion. "You are but acting innocence, Tonstain. You know poor Gundred's secret like the rest ; the only one unheedful is the Count. There is the Count's true mate, born of the land. She is my daughter, but her blood is royal and her face is not less fair than this beglamouring Algitha's." " As you say, the Count is unheeding," repeated Tonstain blandly. Barantin veered as was much his wont from one position to another. He would trust and distrust in five minutes' space. To the instinct of a buf- foon's sagacity he joined an unstable will, which drove him to put foolish faith in half-suspected foes, and to seek help from hands he hated. " Will you be her advocate, Tonstain, for you are master of strange knowledge ? " he said peer- ingly ; " will you be the man to open Karadac's eyes ? " " Or shut them," thought Tonstain with malicious CRITICS OF ELD. 29 humour, for Gundred had not that which is every woman's right and without which she goes beg- gared all her days. Aloud he answered : " Karadac's humour is not to be counted on, but should occa- sion offer I will do what I may." How he was to carry out his promise in the future was hidden even from Tonstain's far-seeing eyes. He loved to make a mock of human nature, watching its play of passion with a cold and scoffing interest ; he lived at secondhand, dissecting his fel- lows' souls, and pleased to hug himself in self- content while hearts would ache or break under the strain of the remorselessness of life. Sometimes he set himself to set his world at odds, that he might fill his leisure with the stress of others' loves and hates, their envyings, strugglings, their disappoint- ments, and despairs. The agony of that battle was to him a mimic tilt from which he drew pastime, and a secret cause for smiles, nor was it all for pas- time either, since he was not slow to see and seek advantage, whoever lost the game. Tonstain leaned upon the parapet. He wore a flowing robe, and the wind flicked about its sel- vedges. He drew his wide sleeves closer as he leaned out to gaze upon the smooth slopes of sward that lay below the curving curtain of the castle walls. " Here comes a rider. See, it is Sir Goyault," he said. " What ? Is not the Count with him ? Does he 30 CRITICS OF ELD. ride alone?" The Sieur de Barantin rose with a troubled air. " Perchance he follows. Let us look across the marshes," said Tonstain, and led the way by the un- even stone footing round the battlements to the opposite side of the tower, whence they could over- look leagues of sand and swamp and shallow. Close at the cliffs' foot clustered the hamlet of Gouray, and beyond the coast-line trending south lay between high-backed ridges and the sea a vast waste of weedy flats broken by stretches of pale sand and patched with rocks and beds of heavy reeds, and glittering wind-blown pools, where the sweet water of the land drained through and spoilt its virtue in the brackish flow. On the far sea-rim the tide was rising, marked by a white wavering line of birds. Barantin raised his hand to shade his eyes and searched the empty levels. " I see no one there," he said at last. But Tonstain under the edges of his flat cap saw a struggling atom in the distance. " Is there danger on the flats now, Drogo? " he asked. " You are of Grouville and do not know ! The water rises fast as any horse can gallop." Tonstain met the scornful question with a smile. " I see a rider who knows his danger and who rides at haste. He comes from St. Clement's. Perhaps Karadac if he has been at the hermitage with the recluse? " CRITICS OF ELD. 31 De Barantin clicked his tongue derisively. " Recluse ! " cried he. " Had you seen Anne of Rozel, or that French minx Yvoine, you would not tell me of recluses ! La, la, la, when Karadac rides forth gorse-blossoms are in season aye, and kisses too!" " I had not thought him such a one," replied the other. Tonstain halted at the word as he was about to descend the winding stair. " Nor I, nor I myself, but he has proved it once and again of late. Do not forget our compact, Tonstain ; I will find means to pay you back in full. Speak if occasion offers to Karadac. For though he scatter kisses here or there, a wife mind you, a wife, it would give me some hold upon him. Gundred too " and so muttering he went into the darkness of the tower stair. The seigneur of Grouville waited until the slow footsteps died away in silence, then he turned his face skywards and laughed at the mounting sun as though the upper heaven were his confidant. CHAPTER IV. THE GREAT QUESTION. GOYAULT SEIGNEUR OF GROS-NEZ made no haste to appear in the great hall of the castle of Mont Orgueil, although the fluster and the whisper of strange news from Grenezay had passed through the courtyards and the dim corridors. The Count was absent, none knew where, and Barantin, lord of Rozel, to whom in lieu of the Count he must other- wise have presented himself, was said to be en- grossed in considering the message which the newly-arrived herald had brought from the neigh- bouring island. Goyault's horse was tired, his armour had lost a rivet, and to both these matters he attended before he crossed the green steep of sward, and passing up under the second portcullis mounted a rocky way eased by stone steps in the steeper places that led him to the hall. His entrance was greeted with a shout and the crowd rallied round him telling tid- ings of some famous jousts, when or where to be held no one could say. Vague rumours from who knew what source had reached them, no news that was assured, but enough to raise idle expectations to the highest. THE GREAT QUESTION. 33 At first a hundred questions assailed Goyault, and eager hands plucked at his tunic sleeves, but to all he answered truly that he knew nothing and added here and there some jest, at which they laughed, and still they crowded round him, for Goyault, whether he carried news or no, was always a chief favourite with his kind. A face fine-cut and souled with chivalrous eyes crowned the perfection of his shape. Those eyes were fair and clear and of a blue that flashed and lightened in his rage, but for the most part laughter dwelt in them, and those who saw it would love the man unawares. He had wandered far in England and in France, and stories of his prowess, carried home by minstrels to the Gersay castle, were greed- ily believed. For Goyault had been born in some happy hour when envy slept and only love awaked. The talk in the hall swung on between question and reply. Some said the herald carried somewhat on his saddlebow. A picture ? No, no, that could not be ! though young Guille de Samarez vowed that it was so and he would take his oath of it. Apart from all the laughter and surmise a lady stood at the upper end of the hall, Gundred de Ba- rantin, alone she always seemed alone and silent, sad with distant thoughts excepting when the Count was by. She was a woman tall, harsh- featured, bitter-black, in whose face love battled pitifully with a certain shame and agony of pride. Across the throng her eyes caught Goyault's, and 34 THE GREAT QUESTION. he read a summons in them. Breaking from his friends he reached her side. " Would you not hear the truth about these jousts ? " she asked in her strange utterance, sweet- toned but thick and stumbling. " Yes, if I ride thither," he replied, smiling. " I think you will ride thither, and perhaps the Count. But you, yes, you must go because " Goyault moved his shoulders carelessly. "Why must I go?" " Shall I show you why ? " she answered. " Fol- low me." He took her hand, the long brown slender hand he knew that one man hated, and led her from the hall. At the door of the castle chapel she stopped. " Goyault," she said, struggling for clear speech, " Goyault, listen. This day's business means much to you and me." He dropped her hand. " Lady, you love the shadow and I love the light." " Nay, I live in the shadow yearning for the light. It is an unhappy lot ; I would not have you share it. Yet the stars have said our fates are knitted close." Goyault's brow clouded and he crossed himself. " The saints forefend ! " he muttered. " What of this herald and his message?" " He has come across the sea from Grenezay to bring the picture " THE GREAT QUESTION. 35 " Then Guille de Samarez was right there is a picture ? " " In the chapel here." She pushed open the door and entered, but turning on the threshold walked beside him to where, raised upon a settle by a pillar, the picture faced a narrow window. Goyault stood silent before it. And that which is the sweetest and fiercest in man's life swept through him. For two long years he had not seen her face, tmd now she seemed to stand within the reach of his arms. A storm of feeling shook him like a reed. In his heart was he not always dream- ing of this girl, whose eyes held some wistful ques- tion, and to whom the man and knight within him had gone forth irrevocably when he had seen her, a shy young slip of maidenhood, in her father's tent on the English shore. "You know her?" Gundred's voice fell as a hand falls on a sleeper's arm. Goyault started with a quick sense of danger, then he turned his head and looked at her across his shoulder with a smile. " I have seen her," he said. " Is not this that Algitha of whom you told me once ? You men with your full lives forget the very words you speak, but women who drag out dull, empty lives at home remember. This is the Lady Algitha, daughter of Algar, whom two summers past you swore to wed when she should be grown to womanhood." 36 THE GREAT QUESTION. A dark colour stained the sunburn of his cheek " What of her ? " he said shortly. " I will not harass you with delay, because I see your heart is in the matter," returned the woman gently. " She would not mate with Gauthier de Morlaix, and he now accuses her of witchcraft where- by he cannot choose but love her still, although the man is sick of love." " She needs a champion ? I will go ! " He sprang half-way across the floor. She laid her hand upon the rigid muscles of his arm. " Wait a while. In her own land none will de- fend her cause. She is a witch, they say." Goyault laughed again contemptuously. " She is beautiful that is all her witchcraft ! " " I can well believe it," said the woman mourn- fully, and she like Goyault dwelt upon the pictured face. " But what of the Count ? The message is for him." " He will give me the errand. Karadac loves no woman." " I pray Heaven it may be so ! " " You have heard more ? What is it ? " " No," she answered heavily ; " my heart mis- gives me. That is all." A strange new pity pierced him. This it was to love in vain. To tremble at a glance, to ache in secret for a word, to be the mock of grinning fools, live in despair, and to die abhorred ! THE GREAT QUESTION. 37 Gundred had moved forward and stood beside the picture. The same light fell on both, and Goyault's gaze turning in pity from the lovely semblance to the breathing woman changed. Un- wittingly Gundred had challenged comparison with one who was so fair that all men loved her. A quick disgust divided pity upon Goyault's face, and Gundred, turning, saw. The sight stabbed her with remembrance : she had read the same harsh thought in other eyes, those dear, estranged eyes that were the Count's. Then all her pent-up misery broke out in side- long questionings. " What is man's love, Goyault ? Answer me ! What is it you love ? Is it the girl ? or is it not her mouth, her eyes, her shape ? Which is it then ? " Goyault paused. This was love too, this swift and galling anger that wrung the lips which uttered it. " The whole," he answered kindly enough. " The one sweet element supports another ; each adds to each, and they are indivisible. Without those tender lips she would not be herself : without that wistful look I carry in my heart, she would not be herself. It is the whole we love, the whole most blessed embodiment and soul. It is herself we love. Would you dissolve her into parts for judgment ? That is not to love ! " Gundred smiled the thin, hard smile of scorn. 38 THE GREAT QUESTION. " If she were marred ? " she asked, and paused upon the question. " Marred ? Now God forefend ! " " Aye, God forefend ! " she echoed gently. " Such loveliness is rare. But answer, Goyault. If she but stumbled in the fire face downwards and lost her beauty in the flames. Or if she were struck with that foul sickness that sears the face and blinds the eyes of many would you love her then ? love her soul if this delicate sheath were spoilt by sickness or some mischance? " Goyault pondered. " It could not be ! " he said at last, and shud- dered. " It is unimaginable ! " Gundred's grave eyes still held him. " That is no answer. Answer me." Goyault's pity was worn out, his patience almost ended. He turned roughly from her, and leaning his arm against the wall looked through the lancet window at the sea beneath it, blue as the eyes he loved and rippling into a hundred changes like those same eyes. Gundred waited, to her own hurt, for she had power to read the minds of men. She knew this Goyault with all his noble strengths and noble weaknesses. She watched the clustering circlet of auburn curls close-ringed on his neck, and waited for her answer. Presently his light wrath spent itself, and he put his shoulder to the wall and leaning there answered. " Men are not angels. This world is ruled by THE GREAT QUESTION. 39 flesh the monks would tell you so. Hereafter who knows ? Be not too curious, Gundred ; take love and give Heaven thanks." " Why does man love woman ? " she importuned him still. Goyault's foot moved restlessly. Worse than a gnat was Gundred with her stinging doubts. Un- lovable with all her wealth of love. It was her wont to touch the mind with misgivings that would not be allayed and yet could find no satisfying an- swer. "Why?" he returned. "Because he must, in truth ! " and laughed. " And why does woman love man ? " " Because she will, no doubt." " No, Goyault. Love, who will not be compelled, compels us, man and woman alike. We love, not because we will, but because we must. The differ- ence lies in this that women love the unseen quali- ties of the soul, and, whole or marred the man, could love him still aye, and perhaps the dearer were he scathed in some sore fight or sickness. And in return you love but what you see, the out- ward guise, look, colour, the perishable qualities of the clay ; no more no deeper goes your love. Here meet together life's two great miscounts that make for pain and woe, for add them as you may they cannot balance fair, the one so far outsums the other." " Not so, Gundred. Even in men, believe me, 40 THE GREAT QUESTION. there is less of earth than you would answer for to- day. Prove a man's love before you tell its score so certainly! Is it not true that we can sorrow if we lose ? Since all of earth is gone for ever in the loss of death, and we love on, is it not thus evident we love the unseen with the seen ? Have you never heard of men who loved but once? " " A great sorrow chastens, " Gundred began, but he broke in : " A great sorrow is often only another name for a great constancy," he said. " Then you could love the soul ? Is that what you would say ? Nay, more that you do love the soul of this fair Algitha of yours ? If that be so, Goyault, were her soul in my body, you could love her still?" She seemed to scourge him with the words, and hung upon his answer, all her face gone darkly drawn and pale. Goyault sprang upright ; she had driven home her argument. He looked at her from feet to head, the gaunt form and sad, ill-pleasing countenance. " Lady Gundred " he stammered, but a horror grew within his eyes. " No more no more," she wailed, and covered up her face, " for bitterly you have answered me," and in a storm of tears she left him. CHAPTER V. \ LOVE'S OATH. GUNDRED was gone, but Goyault still lingered in the chapel. Not to look upon the presentment of his love but burdened with misgivings and full of thoughts to which he found no clear solution. To love was his, but to love worthily, was that his too? He knew no answer to allay the newly-bitten doubt. He had kept the image of Algitha, the Saxon maid, pure within his heart these two long years, but only lapse of time could prove him steadfast to that loyalty. Algitha and Gundred, Gundred and Al- githa, the two names tossed about upon the surface of his consciousness ; and all that they betokened worked in a bewildering contest in his brain. What was it that he loved ? The beauty of Al- githa ? Then he pondered upon Gundred. Apart from outward seeming was she not beautiful ? Aye was she ! A great and gracious soul dwelt locked within that bodily prison. Oh, crudest fate ! Yet surely some man might learn to love her. For him- self ? No, for ever no ! She was good perhaps, noble perhaps, and true most certainly. She pos- sessed everything but the one gift of beauty: Beauty that filled the eyes and won the heart and 42 LOVE'S OATH. drove men desperate ! Goyault flung up his droop- ing head. Happier far for Gundred had she been dowered with the birthright of a fair presence and lacked all else ! Fair without a woman must be. Fair within ? pray heaven send it ! But loveli- ness ? the very heart in him cried out for loveli- ness. Else and Goyault smote his breast, but if it were in pride or penitence who can tell ? and swore that without it he at least could never love. With that a new thought woke. Where was the Count ? Would he were come ! Then Goyault slowly left the chapel and went out upon the causeway, and lingered there until a clatter and a calling down below told him that Karadac had ridden home and all the castle had gone forth to meet him and to hear the news. But the hunger for solitude being upon Goyault, he turned aside, and passing through a little wicket gate between the grey rough walls he came upon an open space of turf and brambles and wild roses blowing in the soft June wind. From there he listened for the tramp of many feet and murmuring of voices as they brought the Count to see the picture in the chapel and to hear the story of the Lady Algitha. Presently they climbed up- wards, many curious footsteps following upon the Count's, but all voices silent, save only the cracked chattering of old Drogo de Barantin, with Ton- stain's smooth cadenced tones, and here and there, isolated as his own life, the deep answers of Count Karadac. LOVE'S OATH. 43 Afterwards it seemed to Goyault a long time be- fore he heard the voices come again into the air. And at once the Count called aloud : " Goyault, where is he ? " Goyault threw back the little gate and stood re- luctant in the opening. Karadac looked up and his voice rang as since his boyhood none had heard it ring. " Stay, Goyault, for I would talk with you." And so dismissing those who crowded on him, he sprang up along the steep and followed Goyault through the gate. Karadac's eyes were alight ; something of his su- perb gravity was gone. He took Goyault by the shoulders. " What say you to an adventure, Goyault ? an adventure across the sea." " I am always willing, as my lord knows." " Yes, always willing, that is like you ! But you are sad ? " Yes, and more; Goyault knew a sudden fear. It seemed the flame of happiness that burned in Karadac's black eyes. What could it mean ? a sudden joyousness in his stern and stately, often listless lord? What had the Count to tell him? Good or bad ? The best would be that Karadac, in some lone wandering, had met with love : the worst he could not say it even to himself. " Whither do we go ? " he asked aloud. " But, Goyault, you are sad this sunny day 44 LOVE'S OATH. when all the land and breeze and sea should shout together for gladsomeness of heart ! " Goyault turned away. The Count's gaze was strong and seemed to pierce the thoughts. " Have I not seen you, lord, sad on many a sunny day? " he returned half-smiling. Karadac stopped short in his laughter. A shadow fled racing over marsh and upland, and fell across them standing there upon the castle height. The Count looked up and shook himself as if he would shake the chill from off the golden afternoon. " Aye, you have seen me sad, but sad again I shall never be until my life is blotted out from this fair earth ! " He watched the cloud, and as it passed and left the sunshine warm upon them he went on : " Goyault, you are my friend." " More than that. I owe you all, my life, my lands all that I live for, you have given me ! " cried Goyault, and for the first time in their friend- ship the spur of that remembrance galled him. " I gave you your inheritance, that was all." " Without your aid it could never have been mine. My enemies of my own house " "Well, they are dead." "Yet I would not forget," said Goyault with a passion in the words. " Let it rest. You are my friend," the Count re- peated, " and you must rejoice with me. After long years at length I am at rest from all my doubt- ings, Goyault." LOVE'S OATH. 45 " I am glad, lord." The Count paused and when he spoke again it was in his old sad voice of self-communing which Goyault had learnt to know during the many lonely hours they had shared : " Where shall rest be found satisfaction for the spirit's thirst and peace? The question woke in me when I was a boy. You of all men know my sorrows. I have hungered for happiness as other men for fame and greatness, which are lesser things and cannot stay the soul. Power I was born to ; for that cause I stand apart from other men, gulfed round by lordship. Learning turned to husks upon my lips when manhood woke in me. War and the chase? Brute beasts we are who fight and tear each other's throats for lust of mastery. Yes, yes, I know ; the blood runs strong amidst the glory of the crash, the struggle and the stroke, when eye and hand are swift and sure and the hot brain re- joices in their vigour ! I have felt that too, but by the time the next sun rises all is gone ! Where is the pride of yesterday ? Vanished like the smoke of a dead fire ! And last I turned to love. But loves were false and venal, bought kisses on stained lips ! And at the best they wearied me, fair forms with spurious souls. But now, Goyault " the Count smiled and hesitated to pronounce his hap- piness " now the end has come to all my doubt- ings, my longings, and my fears. I am at rest ; I have found her for whom I have so blindly sought these many years ! " 46 LOVE'S OATH. Then Karadac told tfre tale of the picture and the adventure that it carried in burning words, and as he listened Goyault's heart grew big and throbbed more daringly in his breast. The light died out of his blue eyes, but in his mind it lit rebellion. The Count loved, and Goyault loved. Were they not man and man ? And then some echo would awake of Karadac's sad and brooding spirit, and all he, Goyault, owed to him. Could he add to that intrinsic sadness? Yet what of it? Love levels circumstance and all. A broken life, be it of serf or king, writes beggary across the empty future days. All that a man hath will he give for love. "There are but four days left. We start for Gros-Nez to-night, and thence from some wind- favoured bay to Grenezay. Goyault, my friend, will you not sail with me ? I pray this service of you." Karadac's voice fell on ears that scarcely heard. Goyault hesitated, searching in his mind for the echo of the Count's question. " To Grenezay, Seigneur? " "Aye, and I crave a further service of you. Would you fight for her? Swear here to me you will defend her if I fall as though she already were my wife, the wife of your overlord." There was a little silence during which Goyault was torn this way and that. " Fight for her ? To the death ! " " Then listen, Goyault. She has sent a summons LOVE'S OATH. 47 and I go to aid her. Within the month it may be she will stand here beside me, my queen ! " He stretched out his arms and all the sweet sounds and scents of summer answered his full heart in that delicious moment of young ecstasy : he gathered them inwards to his breast as a man folds his dear- est close and sighed. " How have I hitherto lived my life ! But half a life, like some poor bird whose wings are clipped from birth so that he never knows what 'tis to soar against the sun ! " He stood tall and dark and noble in Goyault's sight, his eagle face and eyes outlooking from his eyrie. All that he gazed upon was his. A peerless warrior and a peerless chief. Then seeing this pondered, will she not love him ? So the thought grew upon Goyault and his heart turned sick within him. " I would, Goyault, there were some fair lady coming to Gros-Nez that on one happy summer day we both should wed, thou and I." Goyault frowned and shook himself as if he would shake the suggestion from him, and turning found the Count gravely watching him with the kind eyes of friendship. Goyault essayed to speak, and then fell back on silence, saying to himself: " I will tell him when we see the cliffs of Grenezay." " Nay, Goyault, who knows ? " The Count spoke softly, following his own thought. " This Gauthier of Morlaix, you have seen him ? " "Yes, in England. He is a great knight and a 48 LOVE'S OATH. most savage tilter. Men said that none could stand before him." "Aye, so men say, but we shall prove they lie." " He jousted in a tournament at York, and in one rush met two young knights. It was their first shock and their last." " Had he the strength of ten men, I would over- throw him ! " Karadac sighed again in rapture. " The picture, have you seen it ? " asked Karadac when his radiant thoughts had spent themselves. And on that by some blank chance Goyault lied. He knew not why nor what had prompted him to such a base denial. Thus it began thus it began ; he wove with his own tongue the first meshes of the net that was to hold his feet so fast in those sad days to come. "Then follow me." By this the chapel had grown obscure, lit only with dim evening, for the shadows gathered early to the north, but some prying hand had brought a lantern and laid it by the picture. But to the eyes that dwelt upon her, the damsel shone out with the clear lustre of her own beauty on the dusk. " Is she not wonderful ? " Karadac's voice was hushed. And Goyault's heart made reply but not in speech. " Do not her eyes speak to you ? " went on the Count. " I think that they would speak to all men." Goyault's answer half derided, but the Count heeded not. LOVE'S OATH. 49 " Yes, she is fair," Karadac went on in rapt agree- ment. And the other raged silently to hear her praises on his rival's tongue. " Hear me now, Goyault. This one maiden of all maidens do I love. This one maiden of all maidens will I wed. You bear me witness? " "Aye," said Goyault, and the word choked him. Then the Count fell into the silence of his thoughts, and all the while Goyault was torn this way and that, raging, yet doomed to dumbness by the foolish denial he had spoken among the roses in the sunshine on the castle crest when the Count asked him had he seen the presentment of his love. Then spoke Karadac once more, baring his sword, and in the transport of the moment he brandished it. " Come, swear, Goyault, swear with me," he cried. And for the first time that day willingly Goyault obeyed. He drew his sword, and as he drew it a little wind of evening made a moan within the slitted window. So the Count flung out his blade and Goyault's crossed upon it two shafts of silver light that gleamed a second on the vaulted roof. " I, Karadac, Count of Gersay, and Goyault, Seigneur of St. Ouen and Gros-Nez, his faithful friend and vassal, swear before high God to fight your battles, lady, and to honour you to the last drop of blood. So help us God. Amen." And Goyault's rich voice echoed sadly, "Amen, amen." CHAPTER VI. LOVE'S CURSE. HEAVY discontent and grumbling passed about the hall when it was made known that the Count and Goyault alone would cross the sea to Grenezay to do battle in the cause of the Lady Algitha. Men, balked of excitement and of change, loathed the round shores which held them from the larger life beyond, or so they said ; and many swore to choose some other leader than their lord Count Karadac, whom they had followed in a hundred frays upon the mainland while the Norman duke- dom, swayed this way and that by jealousies and feuds, settled itself more firmly by degrees to a se- cure foothold, from which William was yet to launch himself upon the neck of England. But Karadac was not a captain to be forsaken lightly, for his re- nown stood highest even in the warlike Norman Court. Tonstain, with false reasonings and silent laugh- ter worked on Barantin to oppose the Count in his adventure, till Karadac, vexed with persistent ques- tioning and advice, at length sent the old man from his presence with one sharp word, and Drogo bab- bled about the Castle of the Count's folly and the sorceries of the Saxon girl. LOVE'S CURSE. 51 By midnight all was ready, and Karadac had bound two aigrettes of whalebone to his crest as chieftain of a realm bordered on all sides by the sea. Upon the dark causeway he met with Baran- tin. The wizened figure, wrapped in its heavy cloak, drew pity from the Count. He was half ashamed that so poor a thing had angered him last evening. In the first flush of happiness a man's heart grows kind. " What is it, Drogo ? No, no, last evening is last evening : the day is past and let its wrath go with it," and so he would have passed on but Barantin caught at the broidered garment flung about his shoulders over the coat of chain mail. " Stay, lord, I have a request not mine but Gundred's. Will you speak with her?" the old man faltered. Karadac's face clouded. " But for a moment, lord. She would wish you good luck on your adventure," he went on. " She is here." He opened the little gate behind him and pointed to the open space of turf where the Count had spoken with Goyault yesterday. It was a sultry night and breathless. Down be- low the cliff the sea moved with an oily heave that spoke of coming storm. The very air was heavy as if burdened with some ill presentiment. The fancy woke in Karadac at the sound of Gundred's name. Gundred ? He never liked a woman with dark brows, and since the whispers and sly smiles 52 LOVE'S CURSE. that passed about her passion had wakened him to knowledge of it, he almost hated her. Hated her the more that even William pressed the marriage on him, for Gundred was heiress of large do- mains lying on the Breton marches and the Duke desired to secure a warrior staunch and strong as Karadac to rule them lest a weaker hand let in dep- redations like the sea to swamp his throne. So Karadac passed through the little gate, moving in quick impatience, thrusting aside the dew-wet grasses with his mailed feet. The scent of wild roses as he crushed them back assailed him like a memory of Algitha. Then he saw Gundred. She was standing in an angle made by the low battlement against the upspringing of a wall that but- tressed the castle-tower. So she stood darkly centred in a sullen blotch of light that hung in a ragged fringe from a lantern above her. Karadac approached her silently. He had no word of greeting for his thoughts were filled with new forebodings and what this sudden cloud upon his spirit might portend. He looked from the lowering heaven to the threatening roll of water and knew that he must hasten if he would escape the tempest and reach the shores of Grenezay in good time to play his part of champion. And Gundred gazed at him under the dim folds about her head, and all her soul was agonised in parting. The past times when, though he had not been hers, he had still not been another's, came back LOVE'S CURSE. 53 upon her with a piteous rush of tenderness. How dear and sweet they were ! Though she had mourned through them not guessing of the keener pain that was to come. To-day he was another's, so far as vows and vagrant love could make him so. She pressed her veil upon her lips and bit it through. Was there no charm in heaven or earth to lure his heart home to her to its true rest ? No, no, he was going out for ever, to his death perhaps : if not to death, why then to the arms of a fair wife ! How should she teach herself the patience to en- dure ? How should she live to see him waste his love on one who could not give him back one half the worship that ached within her? Sternly and suddenly he spoke. "Lady, farewell. The storm is gathering; I must go." "Karadac," she slipped into the old childish habit, perhaps with some piteous hope of wakening lost and gentler memories, " Karadac, spare me a moment before you go. Nay, I would only say God be with you and farewell." Her voice stopped in her throat. " Farewell, lady," he said again and turned. " Karadac, not yet Do you forget when we played here in other summers and you you " he looked down upon her, and 'his cold gaze cut off her speech. Yes, he remembered well childish vows and kisses, but the touch by her on those same recol- 54 LOVE'S CURSE. lections, knowing of her what he did, and being as he was in the first flush of passion for that other, raised in him a mortal loathing which without his will his answer echoed. " Childish follies, lady, which surely you have forgiven." His indifference fired her. " Forgiven," her fettered tongue impeded her " but not forgotten." " Why yes, forgotten too ! " He smiled, and stirred an impatient foot. " There was once have a little patience with me, Karadac," the urgency of the moment clogged her woefully, " there was once a noble Christian knight who in some far-off adventure fought in single com- bat with an infidel and from the body of his foe he took a gem, the which became his dearest treasure. The gem was clear and blue like a glimpse of sky shining through purest water." A quick sigh broke in upon her faltering speech, for Karadac bethought him of sweet eyes blue and limpid as the jewel. " And afterward that knight returning home was wont to praise the beauty of the gem as matchless, until one day a certain man who heard him an- swered : ' By wanderings and bloody battle and many sufferings of soul and body you won your gem, and I, a plain man who have stopped at home, have picked up such another by the sea, as clear, as blue, as precious,' and from his bosom drew a stone as lustrous as the knight's." LOVE'S CURSE. 55 She ceased. The meaning of the parable was manifest. Karadac recoiled. " The heart of man is so poor a thing," he said, " that it but values its possessions in relation to the price paid down. That which costs us blood and suffering and tears is, being dear bought, held in most esteem." Gundred was trembling visibly. Not yet would she let him go. One more effort, the supremest to a woman instinct all with pride, was still to make. She must for dear love's sake brave the worst that man can give to her who fain would win him. " I cannot forget, Karadac. Who would forget those sweetest days of youth days, Karadac" with a poor attempt at laughter " when you vowed you " Her courage broke. The Count's rigid figure cowed the rush of stumbling words. " Remember nothing of that poor sauciness, lady. Once more I ask forgiveness for the child that once was Karadac. Fear nothing. Remind you of those old words I never will nor can, for I am pledged to love " She caught him by the arm and in the smoky light he saw the dark face raised to his instinct with pleading rage. " Don't utter it ! Leave the rest unsaid, because whatever you say now the echo will linger in my ears for ever ! Words that cannot be forgotten, al- though we yearn to blot them out with blood if that could avail to do it. Karadac, hear me this 56 LOVE'S CURSE. once. Have I not read your heart through these past years ? Have I not known that in your lone- liness you have sought for love, and only love, true love, with tears and prayers ? " He frowned upon her blackly. Tenfold he loathed her now upon this proof of her strange in- sight into his sacred quest, his inmost thought. How should he endure to meet again those hated eyes, knowing they could fathom all his heart ? Gundred shivered. She already knew her fate but womanlike would not acknowledge it, so clung forlornly to some poor straw of hope. " Karadac, there is a love which has always been your own, consecrated from the dawn of life to you, a heart where you lie imaged and have been from the beginning ; no other shadow has ever fallen there. Is that nothing to offer for your acceptance ? All yours ! Will ever any woman say those words again with absolute fidelity in your ears ? It can- not be, Karadac, for none but she of whom I speak has been beside you from your youth. This gold- haired Saxon, how know you whom she loves or has loved in her time? She whose voice you have not even heard " "They tell me it is soft and sweet as doves cooing in the autumn woods," he answered remorselessly. "And mine is clogged by some cruel chance of birth Oh, you are cruel, cruel, Karadac! I hate you alas ! no, I love you. My heart is breaking for the love of you. For you are mine I feel it." LOVE'S CURSE. 57 She laid her hands upon her breast. " Mine my love in the here and the hereafter ! Come to me now and let that other go. Send Goyault on your quest. He is the man, give him his right. But you for love's dear sake, let no stain of earth dull this high lustre of pure love that now is yours and mine ! " She knelt before him, stretching out her hands in anguished supplication. But Karadac seemed to grow taller on her sight. He wrapped his cloak about him, the cold edge of his thigh-piece grazed her trembling hand as with one short " Farewell " he passed her by. She watched the shadowy figure trample out a savage path between the rose-blooms and the briers, and then she flung herself face-downward on the springing grass and clutched and tore it in her torment. She was strong, deep-hearted and wild- willed, and the desire of soul and body conquered her in that dark hour, and she cursed him cursed the man she loved ; called down upon him blight and disillusionment ; prayed that the mad hour she quivered under now might yet be his despair and bitterness and utter blackness all be his ! "Then, sweet Virgin Mother, let me comfort him," was her prayer. CHAPTER VII. WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. THE storm leaped from the Great Sea into the western sky-rim, thrusting back the moonlight be- fore it, and hung hooded and dry-eyed over the cowering land. Nothing moved but the sea, and that swung groping and hollow-mouthed about the bases of the cliffs. Goyault rode hard pushing blindly on through the sweating sultry hours. Long ago he had lost the Count in the deeper gloom of some swaying wooded hill-side. For Karadac, taking Goyault with him, had elected to cross the ridgy backbone of the island rather than follow the lengthier track that curved south and west within sight of the shore. By this coast road he sent his following to Gros-Nez, whence he vowed to embark at dawn alone, if not one other man had won his way thither in time to bear him company. Somewhere far back in a depth of time, or so it seemed to Goyault, they two, Count Karadac and he, had ridden out from the keep of Mont Orgueil, their heavy horses sliding and plunging down the stony slope under an uncertain newly-risen moon that swam pale above a transverse bar of cloud low WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. 59 on the horizon. Then Karadac, breaking off from the main company, mounted the opposing uplands, trusting to his knowledge of the interior to pass more swiftly across to the north-western headland above St. Ouen's. From the outset the two men had ridden madly, not following each other but straining on abreast at haphazard, through heavy woods, buffeted by low hanging branches, down treacherous slopes to water-rank valleys, where their tired beasts laboured and snorted kneedeep in clinging mire and weeds. Yet they pushed on with desperate spurrings through the swamps and a hurtling rush on every open ground. A scarcely conscious race, perhaps, yet each man rode to win and each gripped grimly at the skirts of death rather than fall upon defeat. But that was long and long ago, far back in some lost age where he had lost the Count. Between there lay a waste of darkness. The visionary ter- rors ot those mysterious hills and vales were all forgotten in the living stress of soul and body. Love held him all possessed. There was but one usurping fear upon God's earth, not hell-fire nor the horrid Day of Doom, but only that one dread to fail the Lady Algitha in her hour of need. Torn with doubt and impulse and a discord of thought that seemed to rush past him with heated breathing of the wind, he saw himself at one in- stant engaged in a wild struggle with Karadac on the open downs beside Gros-Nez. Yet should they 60 WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. two, being mighty men and desperate, slay or wound each other sorely, his love must stand with- out a champion at the Lists! Or he would dream that Karadac fought for her and won A hundred times the changing visions worked themselves out to the same relentless issue of perplexity. At length it seemed he waked as he drew rein upon the thinning edges of a wood of young oak- trees. All was black before him, the sea-moan sounded close, and a gust of clammy air blew upon his face from a void of night. Over all the great unearthly tempest towered and brooded. The hurry of his ride was checked. Goyault knew he stood upon the threshold of the tide and death gaped open-throated among the unseen cliffs. He waited, half content to wait, for the storm struck an answering note in his mood. Nature was at war ! And mingling with the vast battle of her passions his human passion gained a fit grandeur and expression. The pause from action brought a throbbing rush of heat about him that rang in his ears and sub- merged him like a wave. Panting and dizzy, he raised his face to heaven as from the shroud of purple-black there shot out a sword of light stab- bing this way and that, and close upon it a deafen- ing roar that rolled and crashed and jolted, wheeling to the horizon. The earth seemed to sway and rock below under the huge impact. Then once again hot silence. WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. 61 And in the silence Goyault called to mind what he had seen in the swift panorama of the lightning. His own castle of Gros-Nez clear-cut upon its lonely point and on the desolate heath between a horse that galloped headlong towards the cliff carrying a shape that raised its arms and cried and vanished as the gloom closed over all again. He raised himself in the saddle and shouted, and the hot dry sky flung back the echo in his teeth, and Goyault, forgetting all but loyalty to his lord, grasped at the bridle and spurred forward calling. And the storm grew into black-purple gloom about him. " Karadac, my lord, there is danger ! " While he cried his horse stopped on a sudden, shivering, and stretching out its neck sniffed at the ground. Moving his stiffened limbs, Goyault slid from the saddle and kneeling groped about the grasses in the dark. The smells of the overwrought earth struck up at him. He felt and felt among the tussocks. The dome of sky above him shut him in, close as the roof of a cathedral. And then he touched the crested helmet of the Count. " Karadac, my lord ! " but for a long space gained no answer. Presently he unloosed the Count's visor. A fit- ful wind came sweeping from under the puffed cowl of the tempest, a few broad drops of rain splashed upon the uncovered face, and Karadac raised him- self. 62 WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. " I heard a voice," he said. " Karadac ! " " Do I dream ? " Karadac went on ; " it seemed to me that I was riding through a thicket all alone and glad. . . . Then with a roar a deeper blackness smote me on the brow and eyes. But that was years ago. I have been in the dark for years. Where am I ?" " Lord, I am here Goyault. And when the storm breaks we shall see my castle of Gros-Nez stand on the cliff-head." " I am in a land of dreams," Karadac's words came haltingly ; " there is thunder on the left and flash- ing lights before, and through them Goyault's voice pierces from far away." A new design sprang fully formed in Goyault's brain. His hand tightened upon his sword. Should he speak out ? He knew the Count. He had no fear. The words beat upwards in his throat. If he spoke what then ? A fair fight in the tempest with the Count ! His humour, wrought upon by Nature's concurrent fury, kindled to flame. " There are no flashing lights naught but dead darkness. Yet, light or dark, Count Karadac, you must bear with me and listen ! " Goyault spoke roughly. The Count laughed. " Now I know I dream ! Goyault's voice in wrath against his liege, and the smell of the sea, heather at my feet and blood upon my face." WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. 63 " Would you play the madman ? " cried the other, his galled mood fretted raw. " Mad ? " repeated the Count, " am I mad ? Mad Karadac ! " He paused and slowly gained his feet. " Goyault, the voice was yours. If I am not mad come touch me." But Goyault, with his rein upon his arm, stood aloof and sullen. Karadac's strange words struck his design of open speech awry. " No answer ! Brown and whirling darkness, cored with flickering lights and voices passing through." Karadac spoke again and waited. In the interval the lightning and the thunder came once more, and Goyault saw the Count stand drooping like a broken man, and blood was on his face. " Karadac, what will you ? " "Nay, I do not know. I cannot see you." He touched Goyault. " Goyault, my friend Goyault ? " he questioned pitifully. " I am Goyault." " Tell me then, am I Karadac ? " "You are Karadac. Come, the tempest will break. Let us seek shelter until it passes over. There is a shed near by. We cannot reach Gros- Nez without the light. Come, follow me." But when he reached the byre he found himself alone. The lightning played continuously between earth and sky, and a bent figure he scarcely knew for Karadac's stumbled vaguely to and fro, halting 64 WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. and shrinking when the thunder trumpeted from behind the dry-eyed storm. Goyault shouted. " See, I am here ! " " How can I see ? The air is full of blackness." The answer fell chill upon Goyault's hot mood. Without a word he strode forth, and taking the Count by the hand led him to the hut. " Move slowly. In the darkness we may edge the cliff." Karadac hung back like one afraid upon the guid- ing hand. " There is light enough to see the way," Goyault answered roughly. " My God ! " A very little under-breath, and after it a hoarse great cry. " Then it is not a dream, and I am blind, blind, blind ! " "Goyault, still holding by the Count's hand, pulled him inwards to refuge. " I saw blood upon your brow and eyes." " You saw it ! Is not that enough ? " and, feeling by the wall, Karadac sank down upon the heath- piled ground and all the world about him was a mad-revolving wheel of purple-yellow shadows. " Oh God, the Ruler ! " he shrieked out amidst the tumult of the storm, "smite me that this strong life in me may wither and dry up. Crush me and I will praise Thee ! Tear from me the soul Thou gavest and give me eternal peace and sleep ! " But only the thunder answered. WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. 65 Goyault stood speechless, his own self forgotten in that vision of elemental anguish. "O Christ! "the voice broke forth again, and Goyault saw Karadac, once more majestic, standing upright against the storm-lights ; " O Lord Christ, blast me, for I shall never see again ! And some- times I shall dream that I can see and wake to find the vision false and the whole earth gone dark for evermore ! O God, God, God never to see again ! " A howling wind rushed through the hut and fled on screaming. "A curse has come upon me, O my God ! For I shall feel the sun and never see the day : and hear the clash of arms, but, maimed worse than other men, I can rush no more into the heart of battle and thence hew out my way as in old times when I despised my strength. Blast me, O gentle Christ I cannot live ! " The bellying storm-cloud rent by the wind showed in the rift a low red moon. Karadac raised his hands and covered up his face. " I am forsaken now indeed I am forsaken ! There is none to hear and none to answer at my cry. I am alone for ever in the dark ! " Goyault put out a hand, timid he knew not wherefore. " I am here, lord." Karadac sprang towards him. " Is it dawn ? What do you see, Goyault ? Is the sea blue and silver?" 66 WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. " Nay, it is night and the thundercloud lowers, but at its skirts a low red moon gleams through." " A low red doomful moon ! What else ? " " The heaven is black but clearer towards Grene- zay, and the storm reflected tumultuously in the great pool of St. Ouen's." Karadac staggered back in an access of agony and seized in both his hands the frail roof. " And I I am surrounded by great walls of dark- ness, moving, whirling walls. I cannot live hence- forward in blank night, helpless my God, I, Kara- dac, helpless ! A world away from all the world ! It cannot shall not be ! " Around them the storm brooded and the Count's face, fierce and impotent, was lit with the passing of lurid light and shadow. " Listen, Goyault, where is the pool ? Lead me to it. It is deep and a fit sepulchre for him who was once haut prince in his own land. The red moon shines in it, Goyault?" "Aye, the red moon shines in it." " Shines down far into the weed-grown depths where I shall lie asleep asleep, for there it is for ever night, a double night. And the moons of afterdays shall be reflected above me on the moan- ing tides. Come, lead me down, Goyault." " I cannot, lord Count." " I will seek death alone ! " " Lord," said the other slowly, " this is not a great death." WHAT THE RED MOON SAW. 67 " Death great ? what matters it ? You shall succeed me, and be overlord of Gersay. Will not that content you ? " Goyault's face was set. The red moon waned behind closing vapours. "Your pardon," cried the Count again, " for I am distraught with woe. Yet lead me ! You will not ? Then if you are still my true knight, see my sword is in my right hand, place your left hand in my left hand and fight. Nay, nay, I do not mean it, but lead me to the cliff-edge and so to peace." " I will not do it I cannot ! Ask anything but that." There was a hush over land and sea, the last long breathless hush before the breaking of the rain. Karadac raised his voice. " Who cursed me that I am blind blind, blind, blind ! To dwell in outer darkness blind and maimed and mad ! And Goyault even Goyault who called me mad me, Karadac ! No, it shall not be I can still die ! " In the returning gloom Goyault rushed out and met him in full shock and both were hurled about into a turmoil of wild wind and rain. For just then the storm broke. CHAPTER VIII. THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. OUTSIDE Goyault could hear the sorrow of the rain as it beat upon the grass, a close and lashing rain. From the clouds the trumpets of the storm thrilled and re-echoed, drew near and died away. So he watched the dark hour through, broken with doubt and longing for the day, though what the day might bring he could by no means devise. Then a greyness crept slowfooted over the drenched forest behind, birds began to wake, and dawn came with a little shower. On that day was no clear shining after rain ; only a leaden sky and the north wind piping shrilly as on a winter morning. Goyault sat staring out over the desolate expanse of moorland which covers the flat scalp of Gros-Nez, at the front of his castle standing against the wild western heaven. The sea was up and booming along the coast, flinging its spume and spray high above the cliff up to the castle walls. As the light strengthened Karadac began to mut- ter in the delirium of his dreams. His thick hair was wet with rain and on his brow a black wound above the eyes. From muttering he passed to THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. 69 waking, and Goyault knew remembrance had come upon him for suddenly his limbs grew tense and deadly still. "Am I alone?" The hoarse question carried with it the torment of helplessness. " It is morning, lord," was the answer, embar- rassed with the Count's affliction and the need of open speech between them. "A bleak dawning, full of cloud and the wind contrary." Karadac moved with pain. ''Then the rowers shall work the harder. We must be in Grenezay by night." "You also, lord ?" "I am blind," cried the other bitterly; "would you say that ? But I still am Karadac, a mighty warrior and the champion of the Lady Algitha when she calls for one to aid her in the lists." " What ? Match your new blindness with Gau- thier's practised subtlety and art ? What ? risk her honour and her life on a chance of fate ? No, Karadac, that shall never be ! " Goyault swore hotly. " How now ? Have I yet lost my strength and cunning ? I will seize him by the throat and blind I'll kill him." " Should chance befriend you yes ; but if not ? Besides, the laws of chivalry forbid it." " What then ? Shall we leave her at the mercy of base slanderers? Up, let us be gone ! " " Have you forgotten that I am also her sworn 70 THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. champion ? Did not my sword cross yours last night when we took the oath together at Mont Orgueil ? " Goyault halted. He had meant to say much more, to tell all that was in his heart that he too loved Algitha, that in the years past he had seen her on the verge of girlhood, lovely even then. All this and more he had meant to say, urging how love may not be fettered, and to claim his own priv- ilege as man and knight to do battle for her. But that was yester-even, when Karadac was whole and strong. And now Goyault could not find the words, for though he loved more stubbornly every hour, pity and old friendship held him back from adding a last blow to the poor remnant of proud hopes. Karadac was the friend of years, the rival only of a day. "And you claim your right as a whole man and sound against a shattered wreck ? " Karadac ques- tioned and paused. This fierce impatience of pity almost angered Goyault. He kept silence, in a half contempt of self. Ethics were rare in those days as mushrooms in December. Yet he felt a yearning towards the higher part and even for a moment trembled on the brink of a renunciation. But then the form and eyes of Algitha came between him and his young resolve ; the moment passed and was gathered bar- ren into the lap of time. It is often thus ; the given moment slips past and the related human item pays the forfeit. THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. 71 " Give me an answer : I do not need your pity," went on the Count at length. " Do you claim your right ? " "As your deputy," Goyault said lamely, without the ring of hearty service in the words. The dominant temper of the Count leaped up. " Have it so then for her sake. Go in my place, go as my vassal, my puppet, the creature of my will no more ! " The young knight's fingers gripped his sword and drew it, then softly let it slide home into the scab- bard again. Karadac laughed derisively. " I know the tongue of steel even when it whis- pers," he said. " Kill me then. It is my last de- sire ! False friend but dearest foe, here is my heart ! " Goyault choked. The Count's wayward misery won upon him more and more. There was a clang of smitten metal as Goyault flung his sword and spurs together on the ground, and kneeling by the prostrate figure thrust his hands into the Count's. " Hark, lord, I have done you hommage franc up- standing as a free knight in your court. Here of my own will to-day when you are broken and sad I do you hommage liege. I am your man, then send me where you will." Karadac lay silent like one dazed for a moment, then a sudden glory shot over his changed face. He raised himself with a new vigour. 72 THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. " Have I found you again, Goyault my friend? the old Goyault whose generous blood ran to the level of every call that chivalry could make upon it ! The comrade who has ridden beside me many a day and whom I loved. A straight fierce knight whose manhood sat upon him in a crown of grace, one who had seen great adventures and still young was grown wise in counsel. One whose name I dreamed would live with mine long after we twain had fallen asleep ! " A silence fell a little silence while a great lost hope was buried. " My fame, my chance of high renown, have been smitten from me," he resumed, touching his brow and paused with a caught breath ; " but in my new agony I have forgotten one blest thought. Have I not seen the Lady Algitha not her self but her breathing presentment ? Henceforward there will be but one face before mine eyes and I will tell her I would choose blindness with that one memory rather than a sightful life and never to have seen her face ! Is not that to love, my friend ? " and in his mood of exultation Karadac smiled. " Yes, that will show her how I love with no poor common love of earth." Goyault checked a groan that seemed like to burst his breast. This was indeed to love ! Could he with all his passion say the same? choose be- tween love and the transcendent loss which shore away from man self-help and power and all those THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. 73 thousand delicate delights one only counts in missing them. " Why are you silent ? Does not the cause move you?" the Count asked uneasily. " The cause moves me strongly. And never yet have I been overthrown. Unless I conquer Gau- thier I will have done with life ! " cried out the other. " Oh, that I too might fight for her ! " In pitiful impotence Karadac staggered to his feet : " I would sell my soul for ten days' sight." " Have no fear, lord. It is a holy cause and I must win." " Well, I will die with you if that be all. For after you have jousted with Gauthier, I will appeal for privilege to tilt against him blind. Then St. Michael guide my arm ! Come, the day passes and we should be gone." He laid his hand on Goyault's shoulder. But the young man lingered, for his wish was set that he alone must go and he alone must tilt for Algitha, yet he could not compass under what guise to urge his will. " Why do you linger?" The Count turned his scarred face upon his companion, and Goyault, driven to extremity, stammered out : " Lord, you are wounded let me go alone ! " speaking his desire in simple fashion after all. But the devil's destiny that twists our words to crafty issues aided him and showed a ready means 74 THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. to gain the worst of his desire. A deeper pallor drew away the blood from Karadac's dark face, and with a dreadful fear he cried : " Am I then so marred that she will loathe me ? " " Nay, lord, but the wound is fresh. Will you not bide at home that the flesh may heal, and when my sail comes fluttering home from Grenezay you will meet us on the shore and " both voice and fancy failed him at the thought of all that might be then. But Karadac was heavy at the counsel, yet he could not choose but see that it was wise counsel to be followed. " So be it then," he said at last after long hesi- tancy. " Go, I give you my honour, which I had never thought to give into the keeping of any. Guard it and bring it back to me unstained as now. And after you have fought and conquered, I would charge you with a message to her. I charge you tell her of what temper is my love ; that hence- forward there will be but one face upon my dark- ness, and say that I would choose blindness rich with that one memory rather than a life of daily sight without it. That must reach her heart an she be woman. With me she will be safe against her Norman foes, for William holds me dear as friend and vassal. And to her father's ear add that I would not have her driven or bound to listen to my suit. But remember, Goyault, say I love her well and now I have nothing left but her alone." THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. 75 Goyault's face hardened, then looking at the bloodstained aspect of the Count, his nobleness and fealty broke his anger, and stirred the true blood in him. " Karadac, I will tell her all ; aye, as you your- self would tell it ! I will be a mighty advocate." He clasped the Count's hand. " I will recount your adventures in the chase, your battles, and your great deeds of chivalry. Then I will on to speak of love and blindness, and in her mercy " Mercy ! That she must stoop to him ! The word stung the blind Count. His haughty soul revolted, and he could not know that the man who spoke was offering supremest sacrifice. " Say no more of mercy to the blind ! " Karadac cried harshly. " I will have no pity in her love ! O Christ, this blindness! Must I stoop to pity? No ! I am blind, aye, but I am still the Count of Gersay ! " Goyault, under the last of noble impulse, spoke once more. "Yes, lord Count, and never so much my liege as in your blindness. I will guard your honour as my own. Hear me swear it, Karadac ! " But when the oath was ended, he thought of all that was passing from him, and raised his sad eyes to heaven. " I have said enough," he ended wearily. Upon the ensuing quiet the wind brought a muffled sound of horse's hoofs, then a slow snuffling along the chinks in the wall, lastly a horse's head, with timid glancing eyes, showed in the opening. 76 THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. " What is it ? " Karadac asked without turning his head. His loss was sore upon him. " You should know who it is, lord," was Goyault's answer with something of gladness in his tone, as the animal, thrusting one diffident foot within the hut, stretched out its neck and laid a soft muzzle against the Count's cheek. " Rene" ! Yes, I should know her, the one selfless love I hold in all the earth ! " Then pulling him- self together added : " Though, of heaven's grace, another may yet be mine who knows? That will be your task, Goyault ; bring her back to me. Come, let us be going." They parted at the castle gate with one more word from Karadac. " Your oath, remember. And may long blessing follow you." And Goyault took horse and rode like an eager wind to a bay where the boat lay ready. The men hastened to embark for the sea was rising, but or ever they rowed forth from under the land, and the wind veering to the north-east drove the spindrift about the leopards' heads at prow and stern, Goyault had forgotten Karadac and his oath. To one of his temper grief and lack of hope are a burden which slips easily from the mind. Already he was forecasting of how he should meet with Algitha, and whether her eyes would tell him he was remem- bered still, that it was by no vain chance she sent her messenger to Gersay to seek a champion, but THROUGH THE CRYING WIND. 77 that she had known full well how one there would answer to the call. Alas, it was not the bride of Karadac on whom he pondered but the maiden of his own long dreams. In Gros-Nez Karadac met with Tonstain and his following. Question and exclamation and regret died out before the darkness of his mood. He commanded those who were about him to lead him to the tower's crest where was only a sentinel and the wind crying. And he bade them leave him there alone with the sentinel and the wind until he should presently come down. " What see you ? " he asked in a little. " I see the boat. She has but now shot round the point. My lord Goyault is in her. The waves are high and broken and they beat upon the row- ers," answered the man. An hour passed. " What see you ? " said Karadac again. " The wind is shifting ; they have set a sail and the boat tacks outward beyond the surf on the great rocks. Already she grows dim." Another hour passed. " What now ? " " There is naught left but sea and wind," the sentinel replied. BOOK IL GOYAULT. CHAPTER I. A SUDDEN BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. IT was a long long day of wind and rain, but in the evening shone out a sudden blue translucent hour. The lull between the van and afterguard of the storm, a time of new gleams and colours, the sea crashing still in foam about the rocks but on the land lay level light and peace. Upon a barren bluff of crag the Castle of Jobourg stood square and steep and grey, the sunshine at its back. Against the south side of the keep leaned an ir- regular wooden building, from the upper storey of which a low window opened to the sea. To Algitha this window had for many days meant hope and rescue. From sunrise to dusk and through the sleepless nights she watched the sea. Watched it change with all the changing hours, now blue, now vivid green or veined with purple currents in the afternoons and shimmering to a strange milkwhite- ness at the hour of dawn. And beyond it, like a cloud upon the horizon, Gersay lay. Day by day she watched an empty ocean. Nor did her courage fail till that last day of storm. Every hour through as she gazed upon the raging water she knew that he would come ! And yet no 82 A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. word of love had ever passed between Earl Algar's daughter and Goyault. But young love translates himself in many tongues. His meanings drift like threads of gossamer across the summer air, unseen of most, but here and there some destined eye will catch a tinge of finespun rainbow float across the light. A vision come and gone within the instant, yet irrevocable as a vow. And so it was with Algitha. She recalled a thousand times the young heroic figure with the sunny eyes that smiled at her across the courtyard where he tilted for pastime with her brothers, and told herself a thousand times that Goyault loved her. She clung to the belief and wondered pitifully if he knew how sore her need was. Thus the day of tempest drove her desperate. Her land of promise overseas was lost in whirling mist. What ship could live or steer against the storm ? And yet if he came not by to-morrow he must come too late ! At that her heart cried out in pity for him. The motherhood within her yearned to save him pain. Too late, too late ! The words rang ever a weary chorus in her brain. To-morrow was the day set for the trial of her innocence, and none could tell her how the thing would turn. For at that time the laws of chivalry were yet in making, and the issue might be moulded by any hand strong enough to carry out its purpose. Well she knew that Gauthier was strong, strong in body as in will A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. 83 and guile, and so she wept, sorrowing for the ruin of her lover's hopes when he should arrive to do battle for her and find the prize for ever gone from him ! And then her mind would sway back upon her- self, though on that side was horror. She ached in sorrow for Goyault, yet there was some tender touch of sweetness in the sorrow. For if the loss of her meant mighty grief to him, it was because he loved her so. No proof of that sweet fact but must bring its savour of delight to her. But to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow, a blank of dread ! Even her father now was turned to be her enemy. Harassed by losses, worn out with evil fortune when he learned that perchance Edward's pardon might be won if Algitha should yield, he wearied her with importunities and commands. Many a time he wished that she were not yet fifteen that he might force her to obey his will according to the law which held in England ; but as the matter stood the girl was free to make her own decision. Why would she not wed with Gauthier de Morlaix ? He was one whom women feared though many loved him in the fearing. Why did she not choose to be as other damsels were, scarce half-reluctant when the wooer's heel rang upon the terret stair ? Some foe had cast the evil eye upon her or some maggot crept within her brain when they lay en- camped two summers gone upon the banks of Avon. So he would question with her until he 84 A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. worked his wrath up to a bitter point, for always upon argument followed the confusion which left him maddened and full of violence : naught, they told him, stood between him and his lost domains of Avening but a wench's foolish No ! Kneeling by the window ledge Algitha passed once again through the miserable sequences which had brought her to this pass. How they had met with Gauthier at King Edward's court, and how his bold gaze from that first moment brought the shamed blood to her cheek, she knew not why. She hated him ! Wed with him ? She could not and she would not ! She spread her arms out into the thinning rain, her golden wealth of hair hung to the floor, and little curls all wet with driven storm blowing about her brow. " O Virgin Mother, aid me, aid me ! I am so ut- terly unhappy. I remember how different it was two years ago. Misfortune is a cloud creeping across the sea. It is all so glorious till the sunlight falls into the shadow, and then awakes a little bitter wind. It has been so with me. I am never happy now. I cannot choose for champion Goyault, sweet Mother. Why do others love me and he only never comes? I am so helpless. There is no one to do battle for me. And there is no one whom I would have do battle for me saving only he. There is no one whom I would wed with saving And he may be another's champion in another land. How know A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. 85 I ? O, life is sad. The sun breaks forth ! is there a boat upon the sea ? " She sprang to her feet and leant out. The uneven shadow of the tower thrust itself in dark fingers out to the fringe of brier and bracken which overhung the scarp of cliff. Beyond, under the clearing sky, search how she might, was nothing but a yeasty tumble of brown water. And already the night-cloud was rising in the east. Yet the far comfort of those blue translucent spaces widening behind the wrack came down upon her. She looked up, then sighed and smiled together. Some vague memory uplifted her tired heart. It was of the first time she thrilled under Goyault's eyes ! Love may translate himself in many ways and all be read and known of men, but in what words shall men translate love's dream ? Love and its coming ! She breathed deep, her hands clasped in strenuous recollection. What was that shadowy, untouchable and passing sweep that vision of mystery stung into being at one swift look. It was so fair she had not dared to look again. And now love alas ! he was so slow in coming back to her from the unat- tainable, what could she do but bow her head and wait ? Clasping the crucifix at her girdle, she sank upon her knees, her face hidden in her arms, and so kneeling bowed upon the window-ledge and prayed. "Is he coming? I have waited and my heart grows heavy. Mother Mary, let me die or send him back to me ! " 86 A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. She knelt till, being wearied with long watching, edged with the keen-set fret of youth, she fell asleep. She was so young to stand against the world, all loving woman to her fingertips. But Algitha had to the full that quality of womanliness which makes the heart a despot and all the life a willing slavery. Her northern blood transmuted passion into steadfastness. She was that true and blind idola- ter who believes all things and endures all things for love's sake. Presently a foot came blundering up the stair, a slow deliberate foot that blundered only because the way was dark and strange. Then a hand fell on the fastening of the door Algitha had been condemned to prison by her father for many days. The door turned wailing on its hinges, but Algitha slept on. A mighty man stepped into the room, and, glanc- ing round in the glow of evening light reflected from outside, smiled as if satisfied. Although of only medium height, Gauthier de Morlaix was of vast build. The short hair under the small Norman cap showed a red so dark that it seemed almost brown. His eyes were also reddish-brown and brilliant with the hue which adds to insolence and shrewd speech a point and colour of its own. His tunic was edged with heavy gold, and his huge legs cross-gartered in the style which he had learned in England. He eyed the girl's form before he spoke. A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. 87 " Lady," he said and paused. Algitha moved in her sleep and sighed, falling half-prone against the wall, her head upon her breast, her hands dropped sideways across her knees. The Norman could not see her face for the golden cloud of hair, but the soft abandonment of her attitude and the half-open palms betrayed her. He drew softly nearer, his great passion work- ing with his will, and having looked upon her for a moment stooped like a hawk. He withheld his hand, no touch fell on her, yet as if struck into life by the fire of his look she awakened, flinging back her heavy hair, her wide blue eyes meeting his in terror. He smiled a little, conscious of his power. " Why are you here ? " she panted. With him she had always been before of a still and calm demeanour, but crouching helpless there so close to him beneath the cruel hovering face, she could not choose but tremble. " Lady, because I love you." " Stand back for I would rise." " Rise, sweetheart, rise to my heart ; it is my long-pending prayer." The smile lingered still upon his lips. With the craft of the weak she accused him. "You do not love!" He raised his eyebrows. " Nay, but I know that I do love, and that to my cost too ! " But he laughed still. 88 A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. " Not so, Sir Gauthier, for love is always humble." " Am I not humble then ? what would you have ? Have I not stood like some beggar at your gate and craved your dole ? " " A beggar ? " She knelt, and holding by the window-ledge stood swiftly upright. " No, but a pirate who clangs at the outer ward and shouts ' Give me that which you possess, and be my ser- vant or I will destroy you.' ' " So lovers cry in the songs of your own land, and maids have hearkened with kind ears ere now. It is a part of love's strategy." " A cruel strategy when the maiden is defence- less. Should not love be also pitiful." Like some wild creature that fears a trap she stood at bay. " In truth, yes ! " he agreed jauntily ; " and there- fore I am here." " What ? " She bent towards him, a new light in her blue eyes. " Is there then hope for me ?" "Yes, if you let me turn your question back upon yourself and ask if there be hope for me?" His air of careless gallantry galled her careless yet untiring and sure of the event. She met his eyes but her own dropped on the instant, for this cold, confident, remorseless man had the power to shame her with his gaze. With flushing face she turned her back upon him as if to scan the sea. " Leave me, I pray you ! I am weary." " Lady Algitha," he said with contemptuous toleration, " I have long borne with you. But now A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. 89 you are woman grown and know that man's love may not be so lightly set aside. You are as a bird in my hand, yet I have come once more to ask you in all courtesy to wed me." He stooped and tak- ing up the golden hem of her blue over-gown, made as if he would have kissed it. But she twitched it from his grasp. "That I have already answered. Go ! " The action in its open loathing pricked him through his solid self-conceit. " What is there in me that you should hate me ? " he cried, astonished. She showed a scornful lip over her shoulder. " What is there in you, good Sir Gauthier, that any heart could warm to you for having?" Gauthier glanced down at his own limbs in their well-formed maturity, then threw back his head full satisfied. " I have known praise," he said with sly mild- ness. "Aye, for many fear you." " And favour woman's favour." " Favour may be bought not love." " What ? it is not possible to love one who is at least a man, and strong, and some say brave ? " " Strong to fight for your own self brave to op- press the defenceless ! Why will you not leave me, seeing how I loathe you ! " " In what can I alter myself to win your favour, sweetheart ? " 90 A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. - "Why!" she cried; "but God Himself could alter you enough to please me ! " At last she had touched him. But Gauthier de Morlaix did not swear as other men ; he held his wrath cold, reserving deeps of energy for unswerv- ing purpose. His silence almost cowed her. He understood the little shiver which she could not overcome. " Yet I can alter you," he said with deliberate slowness. " I came in all courtesy to win you to my wish : call you that oppression ? You have no champion, and I would have saved you from what the morning light must bring. You are accused of witchcraft, Lady Algitha, and to-morrow judgment waits upon you to-morrow the ordeal of the ques- tion may touch that fair body of yours ruefully and leave it no more to be desired." Algitha flashed round upon him. "Then I should be free of that which now I hate!" But Gauthier de Morlaix was not again to be moved by flouting, while he held the poor flouter in his grasp. "So? A woman never yet rejoiced in the ruin of her beauty, and you, lady, are very woman through and through. For that more than all else have I desired you. But ' his voice changed to slow mockery, " the chevaliers, seeing you are beautiful and have injured me alone, may resolve it were pity to spoil so much of Heaven's fair work and give A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. 91 you to me to do with as I may desire. Shall I not do as I will then take my own without the ask- ing ? and who knows, cast that which may no more content me to my serfs ? " " I can die ! " the girl cried. " Aye, in Heaven's good time, not when you will." " You alone are my accuser you, who say you love me ! Are we not driven here, poor, exiled and outcast by your false swearing ? If I should be condemned to-morrow and die some dreadful death, you will be guilty of my blood you " " Nay, you shall not die to-morrow," said the Norman easily. The girl's proud spirit was not daunted. She raised her shoulders with a gesture of disdain. "Do all these things you threaten and yet I can escape you. I may die soon or after many years, but whenever my last day comes I will die still hat- ing you, Gauthier de Morlaix ! No power of yours can conquer that." She turned away once more and leaned upon the window, her fair head and her shoulders outlined there. She leaned so a moment curiously still, then with a glad sob she spoke again. " But I am not yet condemned nor are you yet the conqueror, my lord ! " " Where is your champion ? It would seem as if all men grew laggards in your cause." " Save one ! " she cried. " See, his ship comes 92 A BLUE TRANSLUCENT HOUR. rushing from the night. Make way, Sir Gauthier, I would call my maidens and prepare myself to meet him." " His ship ? Who is this lingering champion ? " Gauthier looked at her with a derisive question in his eyes. " Goyault, lord of Gros-Nez and St. Ouen in Gersay." In the vehement gladness of the moment she smiled her exultant answer. " My witch has a lover after all ! " said the Nor- man with an evil significance, then stooped to descend the stairway. CHAPTER II. SWEET AND SWIFT. A PARAMOUNT desire grows and expels the rabble of smaller thought. So it was with Goyault as his ship, leaving the tempest behind it, strained shore- wards towards the sunset. Against the light Jo- bourg on its crags shone like a picture in an arc of blue, each grey line acutely clear after the summer tempest. Forgotten were all the perplexities of the hour and of his errand. He no longer looked at happiness through another man's eyes. He mused upon the overthrow of Morlaix as the gate which led to joy, unclouded joy. The lover's doubts which might under less difficult circum- stances have beset him were not his. As in a room of mirrors one sees a single face reflected, so all the air reverberated the image of Algitha, the half-aver- ted blushed girl of two years ago. His buoyant nature, revolting against the strain of unwonted sadness, leaped to meet her whom his soul desired. Now that the square shell of Jobourg loomed up in black shadow and sparkling sunset gleams above him, his eyes viewed and reviewed the whole. The keenness of the lover's mood burned in him. He made a dalliance with delight ; anticipation of see- 94 SWEET AND SWIFT. ing her he loved again overpowered him with its stinging fragrance. Round the rocky feet of Jobourg the water churned and thundered. There was no landing- place, therefore Goyault suffered the steersman to turn the leopard's head into the broad channel which lies between Grenezay and the string of islands which curve about her sides. Goyault burned with impatience as they forged slowly along the mile or two of lofty coast ere sweeping before the shifting wind into an oblong bay, where, clos- ing a vista of two lines of foam, a little kindly beach disclosed itself. As the boat rushed up upon a wave and touched Goyault leaped forth upon the sand, yet even then was forced to tarry whilst his following came ashore : he could not present himself without due formality at Jobourg. Ere their ordering was half completed, from the rugged slopes above a band of men came streaming down to meet him. At their head Earl Algar, a broad Saxon, his fair hair falling to his shoulders and a long moustache drooping far below his chin. A brooch crusted with jewels fastened his cloak upon one side, leaving free a great arm covered with heavy bracelets. Goyault hardly heard the words with which the greeting passed, for was not this the father of her he loved ? Nevertheless he told a glib tale of Kara- dac while his heart beat in his ears. With a fine vagueness he gave it to be understood that he SWEET AND SWIFT. 95 represented his liege, the Count of Gersay, in so far that had not misfortune intervened, Karadac would have come in person to the jousts. As it was, Goyault professed himself ready to champion the cause of the Lady Algitha without promise of reward, save only that which she might choose in her kindness afterward to bestow. To all this Algar answered handsomely, and led on by ancient friendship and the young man's kindly aspect poured forth his woes and disappoint- ments to the only ears in Grenezay he had not yet awearied with them. " Exiled and beggared and a wanderer, good sieur Goyault, all for a girl's folly, see you how hard my case? I knew not where to fly, till my daughter, who in truth is not so great a fool as her rashness might suggest to you, reminded me of Sir Jean de Jobourg. In memory of favours done him in time past by my good brother Brithric Maude, he re- ceived us with some secret grudging it may be, but I recked not of it. I hoped we had escaped but this embittered Norman has, it seems, no room for two ideas in his head, and still hankered for the maid. So he has followed us and stirred up strife afresh. He, with a round half-dozen of his friends, dwells with the knight Sampson d'Anneville, to whom Duke Robert gave in fief a third part of this isle. Had I not sixty heavy years upon my back, I should throw down the glove to Morlaix myself ! As it is, I thank the Saints that you ask nothing of 96 SWEET AND SWIFT. my girl, for no promise \villshe grant to any knight, be he of Normandy or Grenezay. She is bewitched herself, I say, whereas Gauthier has accused her of casting evil spells of sorcery upon him." " To-morrow we will answer him." "Aye, I would that you had another day to rest, but the Court of Chevaliers meets by the Duke's command to-morrow to decide cases of moment within these shores. Four knights, two of this island, Jean de Jobourg and Sampson d'Anneville, the two knights sent hither from Normandy, will see justice done. This is their custom every year, and may God uphold the right ! " So they climbed the steep and waited, and when all had reached the level ground, Algar cried out, "A horse you have no horse ! " " By reason of the tempest it could not be em- barked." " Surely misfortune follows us ! I will lend you of the best I can, but alas, the horses in this island are but small and light, whereas Gauthier has a large Flemish steed, surely misfortunes dog me ! " But Goyault was in no way daunted. He would fain have cheered the older man, but Algar grum- bled on with Saxon relish until they reached a triple bank with fosse between them which crossed the isthmus of the headland where Jobourg stood, an ancient line of defence and now used by the de- scendants of the very race against whose inroads it was built. SWEET AND SWIFT. 97 Beyond it rose the true entrance gate, flanked by small towers and surmounted by a guardroom. This gate formed the buckle of a tall belt of outer wall ; within it drawn to a smaller circle was a second wall, old and ruinous, patched with earth and rub- ble, and against it built poor sheds of reed to give shelter to the poorer sort of man and beast. The keep itself, new built by Jean of Jobourg under command of Duke Robert, shone sharp and spark- ling in the evening light, and beside it clung a wooden building which their host had raised to give accommodation to his English guests. A great courtyard lay westward of the castle to the inner wall. Here it was that Jean de Jobourg waited to receive the late-come champion. The tall English Earl led Goyault forward, and as he did so the soft clatter of a shutter opened sounded overhead. Goyault was in the full buoyancy and flush of ex- pectation. Handsome, debonnair, his young heroic figure moved across the open space with the free tread of hope and courage. He was living without reservation in the present, and the glow of feeling lit his face as a lamp is lighted from within. It was the day on which his manhood burst into its flower. Algitha, watching from above, all over-flushed with joy and pride of him, told herself that her heart had rightly judged in those old days in Eng- land, when it had chosen and crowned him for her king. Seen again the sunny eyes and gallant bear- 98 SWEET AND SWIFT. ing seemed to have gained not lost in charm. A young god born of the northern ice-clouds and warmed to life by breathings of the south, a knight matchless upon the field, or challenging with a glance of suppliant worship his lady's eyes. So her mind rang changes of sweet bells that echoed each one name Goyault ! After some time the meaning of the words uttered below reached Algitha. " You come, seigneur, to represent the Count of Gersay ? " Jean de Jobourg spoke. Goyault hesitated. Karadac or himself ? And in the pause a sound of straining wood, for Algitha bent forward to hear the answer, pushing back the shutter as she moved. Goyault raised his eyes. There in the last glow of sunset, as Karadac had seen her picture first, Goyault now saw herself full-breathing, all her deli- cate beauty framed in the old grey wall. A swift en- counter with those blue radiant eyes, a wind-blown cloud of golden hair, and she was gone ! " By my faith, my lord of Jobourg, I am here to represent myself ! Count Karadac had also come but for his new-gotten wound. The Lady Algitha might, had she so willed, have sent two champions to the lists to uphold her righteous cause. Where is her accuser? " But his quick glance had long ago picked out the powerful pale face and chestnut head of Gauthier from the circle of clean-shaven Normans who stood around. SWEET AND SWIFT. 99 " Him you shall meet to-morrow at the Court of the Chevaliers which will be held at Les Landes," Sir Jean answered. "There he will set forth his wrongs and the evil workings whereby he swears the Lady Algitha has striven to undo him. There also shall you have opportunity to traverse his ac- cusations." Goyault glanced haughtily from eye to eye of the assemblage circled round. He longed to defy the whole earth for her sake, so hot his blood coursed in him at that hour. Gauthier de Morlaix needed no second invitation to show himself. With a stately stride he moved into the centre of the scene, for he was one who spite all his coldness loved to fill the eye of the crowd and win applause. " I am here, Goyault of St. Ouen. What do you desire of me ? " " To thrust back the lie into your throat ! " cried out Goyault, the spark struck from him unaware by Morlaix' placid arrogance. Gauthier threw back his head in a loud guffaw of laughter which was echoed among the bystanders : many wished to stand well with the Norman baron ; besides, there is no combination more popular with the multitude than brute force and self-assertion. " So you shall, youngster, at the sword's point if you can in the lists." Gauthier's reply held a covert ridicule which stung the more because it in- cluded no slightest trace of resentment. ioo SWEET AND SWIFT. There was another laugh at Goyault's expense. Goyault waited until it died. He had been For- tune's child too long not to know how to make a cast for public favour. He crossed to Gauthier's side, glancing up and down the big man to em- phasise the difference of bulk, and said with a smile : " The ass brayed and kicked up his heels until a little dog came and bit him." It was a common jest among the soldiery of the time, but it fell so apt upon the occasion that it told, catching the humour of the crowd. A shout followed, but the sound ceased with some abrupt- ness as the laughers recollected at whose expense they laughed. A sheepish look passed round, and every eye turned towards Gauthier in admiring expectation. Callous and complacent, the Norman was always ready to outrage the self-respect of others by brutal words, but he carried no verbal weapon with which to play an adversary. Men of his character have little use for such : they rule by the iron hand and their methods admit of little responsive move- ment. Therefore Gauthier, taken at unawares by Goyault's gibe, could find no better answer than a threat. " By the splendour of God, to-morrow the cur shall have a bloody tongue to laugh with ! " he swore. But oath and anger gave Goyault no concern. He was presently led into the presence of Algitha. SWEET AND SWIFT, 101 He stood before her and could not raise his eyes, although warmly conscious of the clinging robe of white close-drawn about her throat, and the fall and rise of the over-gown of blue which told of hurried breathing. Her long hair as of old fell waving and luxuriant about her shoulders and slender waist. But her eyes what would they tell him in the first look? " You have come to be my champion. I thank you, Sir Goyault." Her voice seemed to break the charm that kept him mute and fearful. He knelt before her with a sudden gallant grace, and smiling up into her shin- ing eyes he answered. "Did you not know that I should come, lady? You needed me." " No, for I am a poor damsel who lacks cham- pions. Have they not told you so much of my story ? " " Yes, and I was glad." He was upon his feet again, and the answer rang. " Glad ? Then I am forlorn of hope indeed ! " Unlike Karadac, Goyault was a lover born. High qualities may rule the world, but near at hand it is the natural gift which captures the senses. " I have heard all," he said simply, but the words seemed to carry a score of meanings to her. " I should have neither part nor lot in your defence, lady, had another taken upon him to be your cham- pion." 102 SWEET AND SWIFT. Algitha hid her smile in her own heart, and raised grave eyes. " How had you tidings of my need ? " " They brought your picture to Gersay, and I looked on it." " The picture? " she repeated softly ; " had you forgotten then ? " " Forgotten the banks of Avon and the mornings in the meadows ? No ! " She drew back before his vehemence, her cheeks flushing. All her thoughts were stirred and sweet and swift. She was filled with a strange weakness. She felt the whelming pulse of hidden things. In the same far-off way she saw Goyault, the idealisa- tion of unremembered dreams. How his name had dwelt with her! An empty echo long, which might one day mean much. And now he was here, the name she loved incarnate ! She recalled his fierce- ness in the courtyard, the challenge of his eyes, and her heart thrilled. The thrill ran into her tone as she faltered : " Those days were long ago." " They seem to me like yesterday now that we meet again," answered Goyault and checked himself. Her aspect changed. " Many yesterdays of sadness lie between me and that past time. Even to-day I believed I had no champion, that my messenger had failed." " The messenger you sent to Gersay ? " Goyault spoke carelessly, but with a secret throb. SWEET AND SWIFT. 103 But Algitha was woman enough to see at once the pitfall of that admission. A covert light flashed under her white lids as she replied : " I had heard many tales of the great Count Karadac of Gersay. A noble knight who succours the distressed, and wields withal an arm has never failed to pluck victory on the field," then stopped amazed, for at her words the colour faded under the knight's bronze. " True, lady, great is Karadac. And he has charged me with a message for your ears. He was on the way to your relief and aid when the tempest fell upon us, and riding through the haunted forests of the isle a hand out of the blank darkness struck him blind." Algitha shuddered. " It seems my cause is accursed indeed ; " softly below her breath she spoke the thought in fear. " I have won through, lady. Be not sad. Heaven chooses its own champions, and yours is a holy ap- peal to judgment of the right." " If Karadac had escaped, he would have been my champion ?" " Then two champions would have answered at the lists in your name, Lady Algitha." " Alas, I see you but espouse my cause a second- hand ! At best a makeshift ! I am grateful as be- comes me, but I can accept no proxy chivalry at your hand." Goyault in love was blind as other men. 104 SWEET AND SWIFT. " Mine is no proxy chivalry," he urged, feeling a sudden blankness. " I am in truth a lesser knight than the great Count whose undimmed fame " Algitha raised a white hand. " Oh, Count Karadac the great Count, enough of him." Hope flushed to life once more in Goyault. " Hear me," he cried ; " I fight in no man's name but my own. For my own right hand I do battle. Goyault de Gros-Nez in this adventure calls no man lord." " Not to-night," said the level voice of Gauthier, " but to-morrow may give you a master." " Yourself, Sir Gauthier ? " Goyault faced round upon the group of Normans who had just entered the hall. Gauthier shook his big head solemnly. " Not I, in sooth, but one whom some men nane Beelzebub." CHAPTER III. THE DEAD EAGLE. THE hour of Goyault 'scorning was but a lull. The storm returned to spend itself in double fury with black clouds that lowered and gaped in fire, black hurtling water underneath, and all the air gone mad with screaming winds. While the dying twilight yet lingered Goyault, torn with unsettled purpose, took his way without the castle walls. He craved to be alone with his doubts and dreams. His outlook on the world was hostile, which troubled him the world was an old friend with whom he had had but little falling-out before. But this predicament left him at cross-purposes with every easy code of life that heretofore had served him very well. He wandered along the broken heights above the sea. To force his way against the storm midst soaking grass and wind-flung briers that laced his sides with thorns, to face the pelting rain, to draw an angry pleasure from the contest with the gale all these things met his humour and gave escape and rest from clamorous thought. He would rest betimes and review the whole un- certain project of to-morrow decide how to deal 106 THE DEAD EAGLE. with claims and aims that waged this same sore con- flict in his soul. At length, worn out with struggling in the gale's teeth, he crept under a tall thicket in a fold of rock; thick summer foliage sheltered him, and within an arching of dry old branches gave him air and space. He rested on a jutting stone, his head upon his hands. And as the stress of breathing passed, the waiting question and uncertainty sprang on him and shook him. But by degrees that also passed away, and in a drowsy sweet exhaustion Algitha and all her nameless attributes of charm, thoughts past, present and to come, of which she formed the core, so led him on that he was quickly lost to all but tender musing on that endless theme. Her swift faint smiles, the pink finger-nails with their dawning moons, a straying lock that clung about her ear, the queenlike column of her white throat as she glanced at Gauthier in the hall Algitha, Algitha ! each recollection seemed to be more over- filled with aching sweetness than the last. So deep was Goyault drowned in such imaginings that he forgot the raging turmoil of the gale. The sea roared hoarsely as it shocked and strained against the hundred-pointed rocks below, and min- gling with its voice another cry resounded amongst the wild lashing of all created things. Harsh screams that jarred, one close upon another in quick convulsive riot, and then ceased, only to rise again when a fresh agony of rage or struggle woke. THE DEAD EAGLE. 107 For a time Goyault heard it dimly and it harassed him, shaking him almost from the dear oblivion of his dream. Then in the pause he would sink back into his languorous thoughts. At length the noises touched his consciousness. Like one who wakens from a sleep he stretched out his arms and listened. At the instant the wind dropped to gather force for a fiercer onslaught, and in the pause he heard those jagged creaking screams and a wild fluttering near at hand. The hunter's instinct roused him. Moving noise- lessly, he crept from his harbourage, following the sound, but it died suddenly and left him clinging on an open scarp of hill. He looked upwards at the sky, where behind the flying wrack a dull radiance gleamed, and against the gleam of sky a group of blown pines shivered. From a deep brake of un- derbrush at their feet, as Goyault looked, two red eyes flared at him across the dark. In those old days men feared many things ; all that was unknown, mysterious and obscure, and much that could be called by none of these names, only the common facts of daily life for the moment wrapt in some disguise of myth or circumstance or dream. So Goyault leaned against the wind upon a halting foot, and waited for the starshine. And the red eyes glimmered balefully upon him. Presently a torn rag of cloud let out the light he waited for, and then he saw the eyes were set within a shallow head, the head of some great bird io8 THE DEAD EAGLE. wind-struck into the thicket and there held im- prisoned by brambles and rank inwoven thorns and foliage. The man worked round, and climbing up the hill slid down among the pines, and so coming upon the prisoner unaware he caught the taloned feet and bound them straight. Then there was hurled upon him a frenzied resistance of wing and beak, a vicious gash torn open in his hand, as he sought to capture this prize alive, but the wild bird could not yield ; it tried a hundred tricks and slips of warfare, making its desperate defence till Goyault, worn-out and angry, wrung its neck. The rift had widened in the heaven, and Goyault saw his captive clearly, a great eagle with a broken wing, lying dead upon the sodden grasses of the slope. He stood and looked upon it with a shock of strange remorse. He had slain the noble bird to glut a flush of rage. Repentance stirred within him, and all the heaviness of ill-omened acts. Al- ways in his own mind he had held the eagle to be Karadac's true emblem. And the storm had seized him, and flung it bruised and spent with broken wing upon the shore helpless to regain its liberty. There he, Goyault, had found it, and when it fought for right and freedom had foully slain it. What but evil could the thing portend? God's tempest had blown on Karadac, and had he not too been flung spent, wounded, undone on that dim shore called blindness ? and in his pain had called upon Goyault for succour, and how had Goyault THE DEAD EAGLE. 109 answered him ? With deception and false oaths and secret enmity. The watcher on the hillside hid his face in his hands, and a horror of himself and of his shame should he betray his oath came over him. Old friendship surging up put to silence the new sweet song of love. Karadac had lost all save love, and that also Goyault had hoped to win from him. Oh vile, vile, vile ! In the exaltation of the moment Goyault was ready to give up all. Pity for Karadac, hurt almost to death by the overwhelming loss, appealed to him in an agony of emotion. Under the guise of the dead eagle his friend seemed to lie there done to death. Old times, old confidence, old-forgotten words crowded back upon him, killing hope but raising up into a quick and vivid life that seed of nobleness which lay ready to blossom in a noble deed. Alas! some poor sinners cannot sin com- fortably, and of these Goyault was one. Leaving the dead bird where it lay, he turned back to Jobourg, driven thither by a sudden deci- sion. He was Karadac's friend, he was his sworn man, but it was as neither of these that he thrust impatiently onward, impelled by a strong resolve. No, he saw in himself a self-devoted sacrifice, ready to renounce life and more than life for the sake of the trust reposed in him. Through the dusk the fiery, reproachful eyes of the eagle seemed to follow him, and yet it was the fierce gaze of Karadac. He could not reason, but no THE DEAD EAGLE. there was a terrible analogy in his thoughts between its fate and that of Karadac. Goyault would fain have saved the bird alive, and yet had killed it. The idea spurred him to quick effort lest by some hideous mischance the type might fulfil itself. Swayed by his impulse he rushed on, speaking aloud. " To-morrow I may be dead ! Aye, I will be dead. I will die in the slaying of this Gauthier, and in the after-years perhaps she will remember some- times ; " and the thought of his own martyrdom was half-sweet and half-terrible by turns. " If it had been any other, not Karadac," he groaned. " O Christ, my woe, my misery ! " Yet to die for her, to save her, was something. That had indeed seemed a little less than naught a short while past, but with the human rendering of changeful moods proportion alters, and this or that seems great or small as the lights shift within the soul. And with Goyault, the lights though always clear were all too apt to shift. He must see Algitha once more and speak with her, and afterwards it was his plan to bid her a life's farewell. For if he survived the conflict in the lists, it was his intent to take ship and cross the seas to fight God's battle in the Holy Land. His would be no plainsaid farewell ; he would take his leave in veiled words which in the aftertime she might re- call and read out their sad meaning through her tears, in the long dead and endless afternoons. The thought was very comforting and upheld him THE DEAD EAGLE. m bravely for a space. Yes, he must win speech of her, but how ? Each difficulty in his path allured him. In certain phases of feeling men and women take a strange pleasure in picturing out the scenes in which they are about to act a part ; they see themselves saying and doing that which they design through a mist of fancy, which heighten all effects to the level they would have them rise to. So Goyault beheld a fair scene and a sad, and the tears stung his eyes although it was painted only on the air. As he climded the steep by Jobourg, he looked up- wards at the piled bulk of the castle towering above. All was densely black there, but about the wooden building by its side he saw a scattering of wind- smitten lights that now glowed to steady flame, now flickered back to broken luminance. Goyault stood below the shoulder of the castle where was her window, lit with a dim flame, and some one leaned low upon the sill with long hair fluttering like vine- tendrils in the breeze. Before a word was spoken, Goyault knew who this lone watcher was, and as a sudden wind blows a low-hanging cloud to fragments so was his high mood shattered by the sight of her. Love conquers all, or why were men born young ? A whisper fell upon him from above, and he an- swered it. " It is I, Goyault." " Sir, I would speak with you, but I cannot come H2 THE DEAD EAGLE. to you. Yet there is hold for a crafty foot in these rough timbers " There was no need to answer, only softly to find the crevices until he reached a jutting ledge of beam which held the wooden framework to the tower wall. So he stood beneath the window, and kissed the sweet hair that blew about his face. Stolen kisses, and he would have laid his life the girl knew noth- ing of them, but when he was gone, and they had said good-night at length, Algitha gathered up her long tresses in her hands and pressed them to her breast, her eyes, her mouth murmuring to the un- heeding night, which kept her maiden secret un- revealed. CHAPTER IV. THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. So they stood awhile in silence, and be sure neither was aware of lack of speech. The half- hidden moon peering down, the booming sea, the rain-steeped perfume of the wind, the very creaking of the wooden wall when strong gusts beset it, all these had tongues that told of meeting and ro- mance, the beauty and loneliness of the hour, of fears and tremulous hopes ; and more than all the thou- sand subtle fantasies each man and woman draws from outer things to mingle with some tender in- most dream : each has his own, separate, suggestive only to one heart and therefore doubly dear, in that supremest hour while love remains unspoken yet imminent upon each moment's lip. Presently Algitha laughed, a little joyous thrill of sound. Happiness speaks so. "You have been wandering in the rain," she said. " Aye, lady, for my heart is full of thoughts." " Of Gauthier and his heavy arm, and that lack- humour eye ! Are you afraid, Goyault ?" She had withdrawn herself within the window, but with the laughing question leaned forth again. ii4 THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. Goyault raised up his face so that the dim light fell upon it, and he smiled. " Gauthier is a mighty man of war and it may go hard with me to vanquish him, but I thought not of him." " Of whom then did you think, lord of Gros- Nez ? " "Of of you, lady." She bent over him, and he could see the rose upon her cheek. " Your voice is sad. Did you wish you had not embarked upon this wild adventure for my sake ? " " Of that I will let my denial rest until the mor- row. I can best prove my knighthood and my ear- nest vow upon the field." " Then why did you think of me ? " " Because I could not help it, as I believe." But he was sad again and lacked a lover's fire. " Good saints, dear lord, how heavy a fate is yours ! Tis not enough to put your life in peril for one poor maiden but you must waste your hours in thought of " " Her" " No it, the hardship of your case ! Better far to ponder on the methods of this great Gau- thier, who takes hard blows like a jellyfish and allows his huge bulk or so my father says to fight half his battles for him." " Thanks, lady ; that will I remember, as I pray heaven to his hurt, to-morrow." THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. 115 " Well, your thoughts of me " harking back. But Goyault interposed. He could not tell her how they ran. " And of the Count, Karadac of Gersay, who would fain be here to help me to defend your name." Algitha drew back, and leaning upon the side of the casement asked : '' What is he like, your Count ? " " Like ? Like some great eagle ! " and he spoke like one proud of the object of his praise. Algitha sighed. " I'm glad he did not come. I like a man who bears resemblance to his own kind, not to fish or beast or bird." Goyault had lost his cunning with her sex because he loved her. " Karadac is a peerless knight," he urged. " Long-limbed and stately, strong and supple too as the leopards on his shield." " They have said I am a witch because I will not love," Algitha responded, " but if Count Karadac were my suitor with an advocate so warm as my lord Goyault, he surely had prevailed to move my will." Here was the moment to strike home, the golden moment he might have prayed for ; it was the crisis of his life come out against him armed with a woman's glance and her all-cancelling smile. Hon- our and temptation join issue in his breast. The ii6 THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. keenness of that conflict burned in him; to be true to himself, to Karadac, meant uncounted loss, but to fail of all his oaths . None can say how that struggle might have ended in self-mastery, it may be, but Algitha broke the spell of silent strife. " Yourself has brought me to the subject," she said vehemently, " Lord Goyault, on which I would question you before you answer for me at the lists. Is it to this Karadac that I owe my champion ? In his good charity he has sent the flower of his follow- ing to take up my cause. Thus they have said in the hall. If this be so nay, listen to me, for I know what I would say then get you home to Gersay back again and leave me to my fate ! " " Lady, hear me I cannot go ! " " Have I no word on it ? I say you shall ! I will not have Karadac's champion, or Karadac's mercy ! " " I offer neither. I offer but myself." "You you do not care praising your Count. I hate your Count ! But you, your life is full ; some lady waits for your return across the sea. A bear's death, or to break a girl's heart, 'tis all you care for what matters it ? Go, I have heard enough ! No more, I pray of you." " Lady, hear me." But she had gone from the casement. Then, raising himself upon his hands, he spoke masterfully. " You shall hear me, and I will not go ! " She swept back to view with a scornful question. " Are you afraid of this Eagle-Count of yours ? " THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. 117 Algitha was above him, mirrored in the flame- born dusk of her chamber. Then Goyault forgot Karadac, forgot all, the sweet love-potence sweeping through him. " I know no fear save one, that is to lose to lose He dared not say the one small word that centred all his fear, but added lamely : " Your cause, if I might tilt for you." "Answer me truly, lord Goyault. Had this Karadac never been born, would you have come?" " Yes, yes." " Of your own self you came ? " She stooped over him. " Of myself I came. I saw your picture, but I needed no reminder. Your face lived with me these two years past. I heard your need, and slacked nor rein nor oar until I found myself in Grenezay. This is God's truth." She stooped over him, a vision of flushed maiden- hood. The darkness was her background. " Well, I will believe you. But, though sore my need, I could accept only that knight who gave himself. No deputy could achieve my vindication, and never was more need than mine. I could not tell you if I tried of my long watching and heart- sickness when no answer came. The raving of the tempest nigh drove me mad, it cut off hope. And then Sir Gauthier de Morlaix came to me to mock me in my sorrow and my shame, for 'tis shame when none will undertake a maiden's cause. He was ii8 THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. here beside me when, across the break of sunlight on that water, I saw your sail. And I knew I knew that it was yours ! " " You knew? " cried Goyault with hot high heart. Algitha drew back and bethought herself. " I thought it might be and it was ! Never was more need." And from the dark her lover's voice replied : " Never was greater joy than mine ! You were not disappointed, Lady Algitha?" " Nay, there was none other for whose coming I had hoped. All say that Gauthier is invincible, you will never know how much I hate him ! Yet when he heard your name for I flung it at him like his own challenge I thought he grew graver than his stupid wont. Oh, it was good, good of you to come ! " With shining eyes and parted lips she thanked him. And Goyault, looking at her, knew it was his hour. Time and diversity of circumstance do not matter, the story is the same yesterday and to-day and for ever. We love and are beloved, let all the world go hang ! " I thank Heaven that you had need of me, for, need or no, one day I should have come and found perchance no greeting for a forgotten face?" He raised his head towards the light and she saw the wet curls dark upon his brow; and the mother moved in her for those anxious eyes that craved assurance from her. THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. 119 Algitha made no reply in words. She smiled, but that fulfilled his need. And in her heart she cried, "Goyault, Goyault, Goyault ! Hers! Her knight and lord standing between her and all the past and all the world," and a faint echo added, " All the future ! " Because she was so fair, he dared not look again but turned his face seawards, and the salt wet winds brought with them the scent of heather and of grass, a vision of his own moorland castle of Gros- Nez. A lover's foremost wish is often to carry his beloved to his boyhood's haunts, and happy he who thereby makes her sharer of his dreams ! None know how much that means save he who fails. So Goyault, with the sea-wind in his eyes, gave utterance : " I would that we could sight the Tower of Gros- Nez ; it lies out there before us in the night upon the shore of Gersay. It is my Castle, and some call it desolate, for I am lord of all the bleak north island. Great empty flats of moor and gorse cover it, and behind in ranks the forest stands. But on the seaward side there are gaunt cliffs with teeth and claws that rend the ocean and withstand its power ; nor enemy can set foot upon that shore or scale its heights. Unsubdued my frontier, and would hold the treasure which I gave into its keep- ing against all assault. I would I could show you that old keep upon its crags, for nowhere blows the keen west wind as stinging sweet as from the 120 THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. mighty ocean of sun-setting. It hums about the walls on winter nights, a sentinel who calls ' All is well!' Free in a free land, with horse and hound to pleasure you would you go thither, lady?" The words were out before he knew. " Free ! I would that I were free. I have been a prisoner and an exile for so long since first we saw Gauthier de Morlaix' sallow face among King Edward's Courtiers. If prisoners are free within your Castle, then I fain would go there," said the girl, but her heart was throbbing in her throat. "You would be no prisoner, but a queen ! God grant that we may sail on some bright summer morning across the green and living glory of the sea. And and But these are dreams. The cause is yet to win, yet have no fear, dear lady, I will not fail you." " Nay," she whispered back, " I have none. Go, my champion, go rest well and long, and to-morrow thrust down my enemy before you." But Goyault only murmured : " Must I go ? " And in the warm and blowing summer dusk, his hand sought hers and held it close. Thus she learned that he was wounded by the eagle's beak, and must needs find linen and soft wrappings for the wound. How can such tales be told ? Shy glances and broken words, that mean at once nothing and so much! The touching of hands and thrills of ten- derness, and once a vagrant curl blew out upon his THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. 121 face and was prisoned in his lips. The light waned within her chamber, yet they lingered in soft, in- consequent talk, to which the moment lends both eloquence and translation. His hand had strayed once more to hers ; he pressed it on his brow, and saw a future. Algitha, there was no possibility of a future save with her. Golden-haired Algitha with the tender voice, her hand in his, her kiss upon his lips for ever and for ever, undying, starlit love like this! His fierce avowal answered even as he would have it answered. The two alone, agreed, and round them the warm world and night. Sorrow and hardship became but names at her dear side. How they would talk, how they would dream, how they would live, how they would die ! Death had no fears for him ; rather death was a friend, provided his cold voice called out their names together, so they might pass hand in hand across his borders. It was his hour, the hour when his rose had no thorn. The more glorious future glowed ascend- ing from the glorious present. The past? That was not he, that pale shadow of himself which lived in his remembrance. Life had begun to- night ! He stood within a radiance which must fade. Humanity soars but for brief flights; so pure and rare the air, we may not breathe it long. Goyault came back to earth and kissing, and he found both earth and kissing good. 122 THE HOUR OF GOYAULT. And so he left her, but he could not sleep, being afire with the tremulous sweetness of glances inter- changed. And across the rushing Channel Karadac tossed in his fever dreams and babbled of the name of Alffitha. CHAPTER V. THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. THE morning broke unsummerlike, with wind and scattered clouds and flying gleams of sunlight. Jobourg was all astir from early dawn ; stallions neighed on the high cliff, and from the blue shores of Herm boats were putting out upon the narrow strip of wind-stung sea and heading for the sandy dunes of L'Ancresse. There on a wide space of common land between the woodland and the rising slopes of sand the lists were set. Near by to seaward a grey cromlech overlooked the land ; the dumb old witness of van- ished gods, it watched to-day the faithful of another creed gathering in scores to see justice done be- tween the innocent and guilty by the strange arbi- trament of the sword. Lines of folk moving across the island converged on the little plain of L'Ancresse. High-featured Norman nobles riding at their ease, while serfs and fishers, tillers of the soil and slaves, hurried by on foot, giving a wide berth to the seigneurs and their following, for men-at-arms were short of temper and ready of offence. Tall barriers shut in the lists, but on the raised 124 THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. steps without the people gathered quickly, and a loud hum of voices rose which mingled with the booming of breakers on the beach. In those days a yearly Court composed of four Knight-Judges decided all the weightier causes in the isle. That year it numbered Jean de Jobourg and Sampson d'Anneville as belonging to the land, with other two sent for the purpose by the Suzerain from Normandy. These four riding together to an appointed place met the free tenants of the Duke, and all others with disputes or wrongs who chose to refer them to the jurisdiction of the Court of Chevaliers. On horseback they heard all com- plaints and sifted evidence, and on horseback they recorded judgment. A hush fell on the populace as with clang of steel and trampling hoofs the four Knights wheeled their horses into line. As highest in importance, the suit of the great Norman seigneur, Gauthier de Morlaix, against a Saxon lady took precedence of all. The lord of Morlaix rode through the circle of country-folk with all the customary pomp and cir- cumstance of splendid armour and prancing steed, and woe to those who chanced to come beneath the heavy hoofs ! His accusation against the Lady Algitha, daugh- ter of the English Earl Algar, sometime lord of Avening, was long drawn out and grave. He com- plained that this lady had bewitched him to his THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. 125 great hurt and misusage. She had laid so strong a spell upon him that he could neither sleep nor eat or take pleasure in his life. Health and peace of mind had left him, nor could he gain ease from the torment of his thoughts, which ran ever upon one subject, the which was sore against his will for he was full weary of the lady and her love. These and many other evils had come upon him and his retainers by reason of this same sorcery. Although the details were too numerous to be set down here, none were omitted to the hearing of the Court. Afterward Earl Algar, in his daughter's name, denied the charge and called upon the knights pres- ent that one should stand forth as her champion to uphold her cause and prove her innocence. Goyault advanced, his visor up, and all men saw his face, clear-hued, clear-eyed, burned by the storm of yesterday, strong and joyous as a young god's. He declared himself the champion of the Lady Algitha, and glanced toward her where she sat, pale and proud, crowned with the sparkle of a star, and throwing his gauntlet upon the ground swore to defend her innocence with his body. Gauthier de Morlaix raised the gage. Upon that the Court hastened to arrange the details of the combat according to their custom. Each knight was to be armed with a long sword and dagger, with shield and cuirass for defence. Also the bat- tle must begin at noon, the lists being set due east and west to secure each man equal advantage of sun and shade. 126 THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. Upon this followed the oaths. Goyault, with the Gospel in his right hand, took Gauthier's left in his left, and so swore : " Listen, thou whose hand I hold, I, as represent- ing the Lady Algitha, take solemn oath that I am not guilty of the crime that thou hast laid to my charge : so may God and His saints be my aid : and here will I prove it with my body as this Court hath adjudged." The ringing voice had echoes that men under- stood, and one and another glanced into each other's eyes and smiled. The Holy Gospel passed from hand to hand between the central two, and changing grasp Gau- thier de Morlaix first gazed round with heavy, staring confidence, and took his oath : " Listen in thy turn, thou whose hand I hold, thou art perjured in that thou hast denied my accusation. Thus God and His saints be my aid. And here will I prove it with my body as this Court hath adjudged." The groups broke up for the time, for noon though near at hand was not yet fully come. " 'Tis a pity, for this Goyault of Gersay has a gallant air," said a short red knight in Jean de Jobourg's ear. " What think you ? Gauthier has fleshed over since last I saw him joust." The tall Norman shook his head. " The more weight behind the blow. It but strengthens him. He bores down like some great THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. 127 mammoth on his foe and crushes him by sheer force of impact." " But Goyault is swift and ready. Have you not heard of him ? The minstrels have sung his prowess in the isles this three years past." " I have heard. But can the wildcat fight the wolf ? Nay ! Our Lady help Goyault, for he is a dead man already. See yonder the Abbot of St. Michael's with his cowled brethren ; already the monkish mouths droop to the fashion of the masses for his soul. Some say that Karadac of Gersay holds him in high esteem." The fox-red baron sighed. " He is the Count's highest knight and vassal. And hearken, Jean, were it not a witch, the Saxon is a rare maiden, by my troth ! " " Her beauty is her bane : God pity her, Gau- thier's vengeance is always silent." With noon the gale sang louder and blew wild weather into the skies. All the land was filled with storm-lights. Impatiently the people waited for the battle that was to be done in the green openings between the furze and sand of L'Ancresse. At midday there was a call for silence. The crowd crushed forward, and breathing hotly clung together on the narrow standing-room, their clustering lines broken by the single rank of knightly faces, grave and keen. Oh, those Normans ! a race of large ambitions and yet temperate, ready to adopt the law yet full 128 THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. of moving turbulence. They burst their banks and, overflowing south, conquered the world's conquerors and found ample resting-places, whence again they poured out again to the Crusades, seeking fame and their souls' welfare by deeds of blood, true pioneers of eastward ho ! Proud, crafty, ruthless, bigoted, superstitious and insuperable men, the prize of whose play was a smile, the penalty a warrior's death. Little wonder that they loved so well those pale, passionate women, whose great hearts were worth a kingdom and whose light hands could close so cruelly upon a sceptre or a rival ! In the silence the combatants rode into the en- closure of the lists, one from either end. Gauthier de Morlaix as appellant from the east, Goyault from the west, and meeting in the middle the mailed hands clasped once more, and Goyault spoke aloud. " Hear all ye and be my witnesses. That which I have said before the Judges is the truth. I bear no arms but those allowed me by the Court, nor do I carry any charm, talisman, or amulet. I put my trust in God first, secondly in the goodness of my cause, and lastly in my own valour. And I swear to do my utmost loyally, to force this man whom I hold to confess himself guilty or to kill him if he refuses so to do." Gauthier loosed the other's hand, then taking it afresh in a clanking grip of steel he repeated the same formula with deadly slowness. THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. 129 This ceremony ended, two squires, coming for- ward, took hold upon their bridles and led the horses back to the extreme ends of the arena. The crowd appraised the foes once more. Goyault was lighter, man and horse, but Gauthier was a mighty warrior. A glance of sunlight shot along the lists as Jean de Jobourg gave the signal to begin. " Let them go ! " he shouted twice, and the third time added : " Let them go to do their devoir ! " A thunder of hoofs and flashing armour, they rushed forth on one another, but Goyault, knowing wherein his weakness lay, avoided the full shock. He stooped before the Norman's murderous blade and brought a blow home full on Gauthier's throat, but the helmet fringe of chain-mail robbed it of its virtue ; while Gauthier's sword catching in the edge of Goyault's headpiece above the visor shore it from his head, and sent it whirling upwards through the air across the barrier. The roar of the lists went up and battered at the gates of heaven, drowning for a moment the groan- ing of the sea. The champions turned to meet again. Algitha sat with strained hands and watched. Another rush and yet another, blows struck and strongly parried, and in the third the snorting horses, plunging, furious, added confusion to the viewless interchange of blows. Then Morlaix' charger reeled on a sudden pawing with its forefeet as if to crush its rival, tottered an instant at its height and fell back heavily upon the sand. 130 THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. Partly by luck, and in part by one huge effort of his enormous strength, Gauthier sprang clear. Another roar went up, and the Norman's name burst from a hundred throats. Goyault reined backward and flung up his hand. " I appeal to the Court. In fair fight my lord of Morlaix' steed has been overthrown. Therefore I appeal that we two meet each other on our feet." A hot murmur of dissent passed across the Nor- man group. " No, 'tis unknightly ! " "What? Fight like a slave on foot? Shame upon him for a knight ! " But Gauthier, calling to his squire, unloosed his close helmet and made answer for himself. " I appeal also to the Chevaliers that my foe's prayer be granted." A loud answer of protest and surprise rose again. Gauthier drew nearer to the barrier, and the wet white vehemence of his face wrought silence. "Those of you who are my good friends, who have known me long, let be. Have I done aught unknightly since I took my vows that you should cry upon me thus? No! This perjured traitor and champion of the Foul Fiend has in his heart some design of danger to overthrow me. Does he dream that I should fail were I no longer aided by my charger's power and strength? And you, my friends, is my cause less good if I bestride no horse ? I am not a man of many words. Let be, I THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. 131 say. Therefore to you, knight judges of this Court I too appeal for leave to meet this perjured traitor on my feet." " As man to man ! Say who can better that, my masters ? " cried a voice from among the crowd. Silence was cried, and many a dumb head was rapped by those who kept the barriers, yet the peo- ple laughed and pressed more closely forward to behold which way the victory would turn under the new conditions. Gauthier put on his helmet and stood prepared, a thick, impenetrable, perilous figure. And now Goy- ault was the assailant. He moved round his foe with the lithe hunter's step, and, stroke upon stroke, the clear, clean ring of steel rangharplike above the deep diapason of the sea. It was Goyault's intent to spend his adversary's strength and breath in rapid skirmishing, but Gau- thier slowly overbore the other man's intent by force of single purpose. Goyault leaped gaily into the heart of battle, but his opponent gathered himself ready and readier for the final stroke. With sword that played steadily but purposefully round about his shield, the great Norman bored down opposition. Thus and thus had he ere now smashed men like egg- shells, and Goyault, thrusting and parrying, knew that now at length he had need of all his light- footedness and his skill. Gauthier was breathing hard, but Goyault, with helmless head and all his 132 THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. curls bare, began to feel his adversary's single aim tell upon his defence. He had met the aurochs in full charge, and now he knew again the same mad- dened pressure as the grim Norman hurtled on his resistless way. In that wild moment of distress Goyault under- stood that it was in Gauthier's heart to shame him, to drive him to the barrier, and there pin him through like some poor bird transfixed upon a scul- lion's skewer, and Goyault laughed aloud. So the mellow laugh rose like some strange echo of the strenuous battle. The men-at-arms were howling Gauthier's name, but there were women too with tear-wet eyes who prayed for Goyault's life. Sword poised over him, trampling him backwards, the Norman, sure of conquest, rushed upon him. Goyault dropped upon his knee, and flung up his blade to meet the downward cut, then swift as the wildcat to which they had likened him, sprang up- wards inside the Norman's guard and buried his dagger in the joint of armour between neck and shoulder. Gauthier de Morlaix stood one moment erect and still, then the tenseness and the life went from him, and he lurched forward on the trodden turf. Dizzily Goyault turned ; the huge form lay prone face downwards, the sword flung out upon the ground ten paces off. Goyault stooped to draw his adversary's dagger THE SANDS OF L'ANCRESSE. 133 from its sheath, then called upon him to avow the truth. But no answer came. In sonorous tones Jean de Jobourg pronounced the adjudgment of the Court. Goyault raised his face to heaven. Grey and dark the clouds rolled in full-bosomed procession low overhead, and the victor, bareheaded, battle-flushed, thrilled beneath the breaking rain, for Algitha was saved. CHAPTER VI. THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. IF man were permitted by the Power that is above to look back with opened eyes upon his love or loves of earth, he would scarce believe how high towards heaven they soared at times, nor yet how low they sank in fleshly depths. The love of man- hood in strenuous years has its foundations in the flesh, so it is ordered ; the flesh indeed is but an anchor to hold us against the winds and waverings of the wayward spirit. We are told, and at one time of his life at any rate each man who is of much account believes it, that every soul has its re- lated soul somewhere in the great world. Goyault had never heard this ancient theory perhaps, but by , the natural process of the human heart he had learned love's universal lesson and believed. Al- githa, by right of choice and conquest, by love's election and the ties of memory, by kisses and by vows, was his, body and soul, not Karadac's. And yet there stood against this fact his oath and Karadac's fierce agony of blindness and his trust ! " I charge you tell her of what temper is my love, that henceforward there will be but one face THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. 135 upon my darkness, and say that I would choose blindness with that one memory rather than a life of daily sight without it." And again : " That must reach her heart an she be woman. But re- member, Goyault, say I love her well and now I have nothing left but her alone." On this Goyault turned to self again, and the old vexed question rose, Would he choose blindness and Algitha, or? There was no answer. It seemed that in losing the living vision of her beauty, he would half lose her. Yet Karadac had said Enough ! That thought he could not follow. For himself he would take Algitha and Hell. Battles and wanderings and the long, fierce hunt laid no more stress upon his heart. He wanted naught but Algitha, and to rest upon past deeds and the great name he had won. Of what good that name save to do her honour ? On the turmoil of this thought Earl Algar en- tered. " Aye, Gauthier de Morlaix lives, and though sore hurt it is said he will recover. Before that day comes I and mine must be far away," and the Earl turned a shrewd questioning eye on his companion. But Goyault gave no answer save by his troubled mien. "The Chevaliers of the Court have assessed a fine of half his goods against Morlaix, and all that will I give to the man who wins my daughter. Al- githa, even in her exile, goes to no husband un- 136 THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. dowered according to her high degree. The girl is fair, and but for this maggot in her brain had wed into some noble house in England." Still Goyault held his peace. How to decide? Love on this side, loyalty on that ! So they swung a maddening pendulum of vacillation. " We owe you much," Earl Algar wandered on ; " and it is but fit that Algitha should thank you ere you take ship again for Gersay." Goyault snatched at the offer. Oh, for one mo- ment's peace to settle his resolve ! Yet when Algar left him, a fresh agony of doubt tore at his heart and he was terribly alone. Before him swept the face of Karadac, a fierce face with blind eyes, that seemed to compel the manhood and loyalty within him. He would give up all and die ! would God he could ! The trouble was as it is with most of us he must give up all and live. A one-winged life that nevermore could fly and knew not how to creep. Holding to this resolve he found himself with Algitha, he scarce knew how. She stood before the window through which in those wild moments of the summer night his kisses and love-words had come to her. Despairingly he leaned against the wooden wall and the whirlwind of doubts and of desires once more beset him. Seeing he did not speak, Algitha turned and there lit upon him so sweet and shy a glance he dared not look again. THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. 137 The girl's face altered. Seeing him so changed and pale, she sprang to his side. " You are wounded ! Come, there is a leech still in the Castle." She took his hands and would have drawn him to the door. " I have a wound. Tis nothing. Algitha, listen while I have the will and the resolve to tell you." She stepped back a pace or two, and a proud look dawned in her blue eyes. " I have a confession to make I have deceived you ! " Her bosom rose and fell. What was this that Goyault must say, this of which he spoke so halt- ingly ? " Say on." " Karadac, the Count of Gersay, sent you 'a mes- sage by my hand. He loves you ! " " Loves me? It cannot be. Never has he seen me!" " But he has seen you seen that picture which you sent across the sea to bid us to your aid. And having seen it who could wonder he loved you ! " " Other men have loved me also, but that is naught to me," she said coldly. " But Karadac is like none other," Goyault hur- ried on. " I have told you what he is " " Not again, as I beseech you, sieur Goyault ! I am awearied of your Karadac." " Nay, you must hear me, for my oath's sake I have told you how he rode, both he and I, through 138 THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. all the haunted forest land of Gersay, and at mid- night some evil struck him blind. Blind, bethink you of it, in all the splendour of his manhood and his newfound love ! In the darkness, waiting on the forest edge, I watched the great storm gather and rush up from the western sea. There in a flash I saw the Count, and so led him to a refuge and he was blind! " " Blind ? Alas, poor Count, I can be sorry for him ! But what has that to do with you and me? " The red demure lips hardly held their white smile. " All, everything ! " Goyault was desperate. " He sent me." " Ah, now we come to the heart of it ! " Algitha spoke in another tone. " Why did you not tell me sooner? " " Because I prayed that I might die ! I prayed that Gauthier might slay me, and I him." " What was your master's message ? " she asked bitterly. Goyault gripped the beam beside him and broke into fierce words. " He dreamed he saw you at your window wav- ing him onward. And he bade me go since he could not fight for you, being blind and fulfil his dream. ' Tell her of me/ he said, ' and of my love, and tell her well. Go, I leave my honour to your hands, which I had never thought to give to any man's keeping. Guard it and bring it back to me. Go as my friend, and when you have conquered THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. 139 lead her to me ! I charge you, tell her of what temper is my love. That henceforward there will be but one face upon my darkness, and say that I would choose blindness with that one memory rather than a life of daily sight without it. Say that I love her well, and now have nothing left but her alone.' ' Then fell a long silence. Had he seen Algitha's face, he would have known how pity dwelt upon it, but after her glance fell on Goyault and her mouth hardened. " So I am to be the wife of blind Count Karadac ! " Goyault shuddered. " His here," he said ; " perchance : there, I had prayed mine." " There ? where ? " He threw out his hands toward the sea and heaven. " There, where the souls of the dead go, be it beneath the sea, or as the Monks say above the sun. I know not where, but there ! " " We might fail to find each other there," she said in soft low tones. " No ! by my soul, were I free to love you, I should find you there behind the stars." A little smile crept back about her lips. " What shall I believe ? " she went on. " Yester- eve you swore you were own man, and to-day be- hold ! I find you are Lord Karadac's Do you come from Karadac ? " 140 THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. "Yes, he sent me." " You told me another story when we met last night ; " her voice sank. " That was true also." " It cannot be." " The Count told me he had seen your picture and he loved." " And you held your peace ? " " For the moment, for I was minded before that to come myself and be your champion. Afterward when the blindness struck him, I could not speak." " I think, Goyault, that you do not love me well." " Not worthily, lady, oh, not worthily, but God knows I love you well ! " he cried. " Yet I am for Karadac ? " "And I will seek death against the Saracen. For you O Algitha, Karadac or the cloister." " A cloister ? Am I such as they make nuns of ? " " Alas, no, but therein lies my fault." " What, am I to live that pale life ? Hallowed, yes but hateful ! Cold and buried from earth's smiles and joys, all prayer and pain. In truth, Goyault, it seems to me that you should save me from it." " My oath my oath ! " She laughed very softly, a silver bell that ceased as soon as heard. He had heard her laugh so be- fore for utter happiness. " Your oath does not bind me," she said tri- umphantly. THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. 141 Goyault started and looked at her at last. " You will not go to him ? " " No ! " Her blue eyes clouded with a mist of tears. " And then, you know, they'll burn me as a witch because I cannot love." " But you do love " Goyault cried out in ex- ultation and stopped. Algitha turned away. " Lady Algitha, you do well to hate me and to scorn me, for I have sinned against you a sin with- out excuse." " Without excuse ? " she repeated, and a side- long look met his. " Only that I loved you," he said dejectedly. " I have known women who would hold that fair excuse for a worse fault." " Thanks be to heaven you can forgive me ! Yet I cannot repent. The sin, if sin it were to love you overmuch, I do not repent. I love you now, and would not alter it ! " "Nor I." " Algitha ! " She was pulsing close against him, and his arms closed about her as if it were for evermore. It is a moment of enchantment when we are able to forget there are millions of such kisses in the world and yet not quite such, we think and pray. Yet in the unwearying round of youth, two still agree there are no others, nor have been, and are just as happy believing in a fantasy as in the truth. Is it not often belief that makes a fancy truth? 142 THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. " How did I win you to my love ? " he whis- pered presently, his lips lost in the golden tangles of her hair. " I know not." Then laughing up at him : " Was it a sin in truth ? " " Yes, dear, and I must yet be punished for it." " I think not so," she answered, " for it is so old a sin the angels have forgotten it." " Sweet ! Have you loved me then " " Since first I saw you tilting in the meadows years and years ago ! " " Three years a lifetime to you, Algitha ! Dear- est, I have loved you too." "Yet you would have given me to Karadac?" " Had I not sworn ? " " What is a man's first duty, to his liege or to his love ? " she asked him. " It is hard to tell," he murmured sadly. " When a man loves, he knows." " Is that so, sweet ? Why then, I do know now." " Goyault," she placed her hands against his breast to look at him, " your Count boasts of the temper of his love : That he would choose blind- ness with me to sight without. That is a question I would put you also. Answer me." The young knight gazed at her in a kind of hor- ror. That Algitha should find his inmost thought and face him with it almost appalled him. How had she read him ? By what witchcraft had love THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. 143 fathomed his soul ? He put her away from him and covered his eyes. " It is true. I am unworthy of you, Algitha. I love you, or so it appears to me, with every thought and fibre of me. I could not love more. You are to me my one desire in life or death. I see none other in my future but you alone. Yet I cannot say like Karadac that I would choose blindness rather I cannot say it, for the sight of you and all your fairness is part of you. I love you as you are because I can see you and rejoice in all your love- liness! Remembrance is not sight. I would hold you in my arms but could not see the flush waver on your soft cheek, nor watch a thousand times the curl of scarlet lip which I adore nor meet your dear eyes' answer to my own ! " Algitha threw herself into his arms and clung to him. " So would I be loved ! O my Goyault, love me ever thus. Your Count, he loves in dreams ! So might an angel love or some cold saint, like our holy King Edward in England. Nay, nay, I would be loved for my fairness, as you think me fair ; for my lips and eyes and all you praise in me. I am a woman born of earth, yet I can love to my life's end. But I need an earthly lover. As for the Count of Gersay, I will none of him. His love is but a whimsy of the brain. I am not she he loves. She is a vision or a star. She dwells in mid-air, and never can he tempt her down to earth. But I am a 144 THE ORDEAL OF GOYAULT. Saxon lady, who would be wife to Goyault of St. Ouen's and Gros-Nez, or else die ! We will sail to- gether, as you said last night sail across the sum- mer sea and tell him all the truth, and, if he be as you say a noble knight, he will forgive us." And Goyault answered her with tender words. Then drew her back to those old formulas of love, old as the world, newborn on every tongue, the tire- less iteration of the ages. " Say that you love me, Algitha, say it once again, one small word, yet enough to fashion my life upon !" So they talked in the summer dusk, but Goyault's happiness was bitter-sweet because of Karadac. BOOK III. GUNDRED. CHAPTER I. THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. JULY was closing in a quivering glare of heat. Beneath the sun and clear broad moon alike the sea lay radiant to the horizons around Gros-Nez. With- in the Castle walls those hot and weary days chased remorseless nights, long, breathless, fevered. At this far-distant time none can tell what acci- dent befell the Count in his wild night-riding. Struck by some low-drooping bough or blinded by the lightning, who can say ? We only read that Goyault found him, fallen from his horse, and with a wound across his brows. Then followed long ex- posure to the blustering wind on the Castle battle- ments. Fever gripped him and for weeks he hov- ered in delirium and weakness on the borderland of life. Throughout those long-drawn summer weeks two faces watched unceasingly beside his bed. Gundred, dumb and gentle in her tendance, seldom left him. She appeared to need no rest, no food, no sleep. With her sad eyes fixed upon the drawn disfigured features, she watched as if she could not gaze enough on that which might soon be wrapped away in dust from human sight for ever. 148 THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. And while she watched the Count, Tonstain watched her. With ever-growing insight, he passed in and out, reading the subtle secrets of the heart writ large upon the woman's face. And secondarily he had interest in noting the phases of the fever which wrung the strong man dry of the juice of life. This was no tedious interval to him : the drama of suffering and sorrow playing out before his eyes ab- sorbed and puzzled him. Open and public as was life in those days, this astute observer had never before been given the opportunity of studying so strange a tragedy of passion as that which now en- grossed him. Without pity he turned the keen light of his intelligence upon the anxious joy, the grief, the tormented jealousy, and the wild periods of re- morse which worked themselves out so visibly and at such woeful personal expense in Gundred. She grew more gaunt, more lined, more sallow-sad as time went on. Her soul was a dark chaos of misery over which the spirit of love moved and brooded. To hang above the sick man> to be free to touch him, to tend him day and night, was bliss ; but the parched unquiet tongue called always upon Algitha, the bony hands clung to hers because he dreamed he held those of Algitha. He would caress the dark bowed head and praise its golden glory, or whisper of love in a worship of admiration that in its sad inaptitude brought the dark colour to her brows. A commixture of feelings and emotions so op- THE GUILE OF tONSTAlN. 149 posed wrought out in paroxysms of unalloyed an- guish. Sometimes as she lay for a moment's rest upon the floor beside the couch of Karadac she wondered dimly how one so spent in body as her- self could yet suffer so acutely. A gnawing worm of jealousy and remorse waked for ever in her breast. To a weaker nature some alleviation might have come, but that could never be with Gundred. To the last shred of conscious life she would hold to that which she desired. Death offered no relief to her, oblivion held no temptation to lie down at peace for ever. No ! life meant hopeless pain, but her sentient heart could still enclose the image of Karadac. She would not have bought peace at the cost of forgetfulness. Anything but loss of him, anything but that ! Her very love gave her a posses- sion in him, and to that she would keep fast, though with it she hugged a martyrdom to her breast. One stifling evening Tonstain entered the dark room in the corner tower where for many weeks Karadac had lain. Gundred looked up, her finger on her lips. " Hush ! he sleeps." Tonstain came forward and stood for some moments gazing down upon the drawn dark face and closed eyes of the sleeper. Bearded and haggard and wasted, Karadac's high features stood out in ghastly prominence, a jagged pucker of reddened flesh crossed his brow. He had upon him to the full that changed aspect, the peculiar ill-favour i$o THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. which long illness leaves as a brand upon its vic- tims. Tonstain regarded him with a feeling akin to disgust, fresh as he was from news of a bride- groom whose comeliness and dainty grace all men were praising. For the first time Tonstain on beholding the ten- derness of Gundred's attitude and expression felt a strong throb of wonder. That she should continue to adore this marred relic of manhood, this past clay, was perhaps typical of her sex, but Gundred, he was good enough to consider, was not a woman merely, one who could fulfil her life with love ; she owned a woman's nature but her mind trenched on the higher level of the man's. Hence the course she might pursue under the stress of present diffi- culties had been of enormous interest to him. He had watched her, speculating from hour to hour how soon her intelligence would shake itself free from the yoke of womanhood. That, broadly speaking, he was justified in his expectation had been abundantly proved time and again. Women with large brain power have, by the law of com- pensation perhaps, little hearts, contemptibly little often. But Gundred was one of the exceptions, that most unhappy amalgam where the woman's heart is great enough to overrule the clear-reasoning head. The light was dim, and from without the mur- muring of the tide came very softly. So still the chamber was that Tonstain's thoughts ran on un- THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. 151 broken. A quiet movement roused him. Gun- dred, upon her knees, her worn hands pressed con- vulsively upon her breast, was praying in a tension of supplication. She had seen a change pass over the sick man's face, a slow relaxing of the muscles, the smoothing out of fretted lines, as he sank into repose deeper and deeper, a sleep that touched upon the verge of death. The silence throbbed in Tonstain's ears. His busy mind leaped onwards and foresaw the conflict and the troublous times which loomed ahead. Karadac's breathing grew fainter and more shallow ; the grave was yawning for him. If he died not now in the exhaustion of this first repose, he must die later when the shock of disappointment and dis- illusion shook his soul free from the loosened ties of flesh. For Tonstain had just heard the news from Grenezay, brought by a fisher-boat, of Goyault's wondrous victory and of how enchantment no longer held the Saxon lady, who these four weeks gone had been wedded to her champion of the lists. When Karadac came to hear these things, as hear he must since his first waking question would be of them, all must end as far as Tonstain's interest was concerned. The map of human feeling, coloured with blood through all its vivid traceries, now displayed before his curious gaze, would be closed for ever, Karadac's wild love quenched in grave dust, and Gundred's medley of emotions, her travesty of hope, could but sink back to silent, 152 THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. dull-eyed grief. This should not be ! The quick thought stirred in Tonstain, Karadac must be saved. But how ? Emergency stimulated the scheming brain. How to save Karadac ? He glanced indif- ferently at the two still figures in their dim corner, and a fantastical design, so bold, so fraught with desperate danger, so original, and promising so rare a venture into unknown and delicate entanglements of feeling, sprang full-formed in his mind. A thin smile grew to firm intention on his lips as he rapidly ran over all the obstacles that lay in the path of his resolve. A whispered word here, an order there, persuasion playing upon hate and love, envy and self-interest as occasion and the case re- quired, these he could trust himself to use, for of all the arts whereby men may be led he knew himself the master. An unheard-of scheme, mad some would call it, and perilous beyond imagination, but for himself he was content to take the risk. A philosopher, he was aware that anything worth having in this world exacts a heavy payment. Fate might not spare him when the day of retribution came, but what of that ? To probe, to know, to vivisect the heart, was his sole ambition. The means lay near his hand to knit up the lives about him into a new and horrible complexity such as no man had heard of. That he would do, and rejoice in the doing, though Death himself thrust in his hand amongst the rank confusion. THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. 153 Foursquare the game spread itself before him, Karadac and Gundred, Goyault and his bride, but it was about the first two that his imagination lin- gered. Goyault, brave, sunny-hearted and popular, with a strand or two of nobler feeling than the common woven into his heart ; Algitha, beautiful yes, beautiful as a boy's first dream, but a woman and no more when all was said : both pleasant to the eye and good as the world went, but Algitha lacking the tragic strength of Gundred as Goyault lacked the spell of Karadac's unfathomed nature. A gull cried hoarsely as it swept past in the afternoon glow and cast a fleeting zigzag of shadow across the deepset lance of window. At the sound the sick man stirred and moaned, and his writhen hand crept outwards feebly as if seeking another clasp. " Algitha, if you be not a dream, kiss me," the murmur, husky and dry, could scarce be heard ; " kiss me this once before ... I ... die." The kneeling woman had laid her fingers in his with a touch of soft caress, but now she hesitated. Karadac's sighing breath brought one more word. " Algitha." Gundred flung up one look at Tonstain's peering eyes, a tortured look defiant of his scorn, then laid her lips fondly on the fever-darkened lips that in the sorrowful enchantment of blindness sought her kisses. A moment later Karadac slept again, smil- ing in his rest. 154 THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. Tonstain waited, knowing that the Count's sleep must soon drop again to profound depths of uncon- sciousness. Then beckoning to Gundred he drew her aside to the farthest corner of the room. " Gundred, what think you will happen when Goy- ault returns and the Count recovers health and strength, as perchance he may ? " " What God wills," she answered weariedly. "And perchance Goyault will bring back with him the Saxon girl. What then ? " " Shall I care then ? " her eyes widened and she smiled with some disdain ; " my day will be over." " Will you give to his arms " he nodded towards the sleeping Count " that Algitha whom but now you personated ? " " Tonstain de Priaulx, how vile a thing you are ! Can I not read your subtle quest ? Cut to the bone, torture the stricken heart, lay your envenomed touch upon the quivering sore ! These are your di- versions, and all to feed a hungry inquisition of the mind, a peeping curiousness which would pierce Heaven's high secrets if it dared ! " " Nay, lady, I have no traffic with the other world ; to know what there is of this contents me," he said derisively. " And dwells not Heaven in a loving heart ? " she asked passionately. " Why no, from observation I would say there is oftenest Hell." " Poor soul ! " was her unexpected rejoinder ; " you cannot understand." THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. 155 " But I can see," he rejoined pointedly. " Aye, and you hear ; but if one spoke before you in an unknown tongue your hearing could not help you to the meaning." " It may be so," said Tonstain with good-humour, and paused to let the subject pass. "Then let me speak of that which I do know. Listen, you kissed the Count but now, he dreaming you were his Algitha." " You think to shame me ? You cannot my time of shame is past." " But what of Karadac when he learns the truth ? " She winced. " It is done ; the first time and the last. His life hung in the balance at that moment." " Yes, it is done, but will he forgive ? " " I bear my own burden, Tonstain," she replied with dignity. " Then hear me. At last news has come from Grenezay. Goyault has overthrown Gauthier de Morlaix and saved Earl Algar's daughter." "A full month agone, as I count ! For he has lain here four weeks sick to death. And why does Goyault linger?" she questioned sharply. " Perhaps it would become us to remember the lady is most beautiful, and springs, if report speak truly, from a family which has won favour in high places before now aye, and, further, despised the favour won ! " Gundred frowned at him, her thick brows almost meeting. 156 THE GUILE OF TONSTAIN. " I perceive that you are talking to some end, Tonstain. I would you were come at it ! " " Have you not heard the tale of this girl's kins- man Brithric Maude, son of Algar, lord of the honour of Gloucester ? Indeed, few know it, but I was at the Court of Flanders when this tall youth came with an Embassy from England. We sur- named him Snow, so like to snow was his white skin ; and long golden locks fell curling to his shoulders in the Saxon fashion. His height and marvellous comeliness set him apart from other men, therefore a great lady of the Court saw and loved him." " Was she also beautiful ? " Gundred showed a sudden interest. " Dark-eyed, with clear and noble features. Her love so gained upon her that she sent a message, or as some say, a letter, to the Saxon, wherein she gave him hope that he might win her, although the blood in her proud veins was royal." "Beautiful and royal too! So he won her? Well, it is a story of a woman's gain ; for that I like it." " Stay, the issue runs otherwise. He did not win her, for he would not woo." Gundred spoke coldly. " This is an allegory after all. What does it signify?" " It is a truth, no allegory. A rare instance. But why more hard to believe than the common story of a sordid or a sensual yielding to her will ? THE GUILE OF TONSTA1N. 157 Beautiful and royal she was, so that many princes sought her favour, yet this English churl would none of her." "And the lady?" " Wedded another lord, who dragged her in the mire and with his stirrup-leather taught her to adore him." " It is an idle tale ! The Lady Matilda" " Wife of our most noble suzerain William, duke of Normandy, once wooed and lost the kinsman of this witch Algitha ! " Gundred pondered awhile upon the story before she spoke again. " Was Goyault wounded that he delays to bring this lady home? " " They come shortly. But there is other news from Grenezay." Gundred stood looking at him. " You have some meaning. Let me hear it and have done. What is this that you would have me know?" " Algitha will not wed Count Karadac." "Will not?" Gundred challenged furiously, her nostrils curved, her black eyes full of fire. " Will not ? By all the saints, she shall ! " CHAPTER II. LOVE'S CHANGELING. TONSTAIN, for all his deep knowledge of the hu- man heart, stood amazed. Here was a new Gun- dred, not that poor unhappy jealous thing who moved in timid tendance round the sick man's couch. A new Gundred who, with a regal insist- ence, brushed aside the refusal of her rival and swore that Karadac should gain his heart's desire. Tonstain's grosser calculations had never reached, nor could ever grasp, the sum of selflessness and greatness which sprang to active life within this woman's breast when, knowing the Count's dire need she made ready to force Algitha into his arms. Tonstain's prying soul sent out another tentacle. "That is not all. She loves Goyault, or so they say." " She has not seen the Count," Gundred answered confidently. " Goyault, as you remember, is a comely knight, and gay and debonnair." She drew her head erect. "And is he not comely?" she turned towards the couch. " Who could compare them ? Goyault in sooth ! a chattering sparrow to a falcon ! " LOVE'S CHANGELING. 159 The man raised his eyebrows. As was Gundred, such are the few, the rarest and the best, who hav- ing seen one vision of Love see naught else but him reflected even in grey hair and wrinkles to their lives' end. " Earl Algar's daughter has been proved no witch, but that she owns a will is indisputable. And report says she has most openly declared she will not wed the Count of Gersay." " Wait until she comes," said Gundred with sad faith. " He will find means to persuade her." " For sake of argument I will admit that might have been had she not already been persuaded." " What ? Then she shall be taught to change her mind." " A four weeks' marriage puts aside all talk of change." A sallow pallor spread over Gundred's face. " Married and to Goyault ? You need not name him To Goyault ! The traitorous thought was in his mind before he left our shore ! " Then her fear was uttered. " When the Count hears of this he will die ! " She rocked herself to and fro, filled, as it seemed to Tonstain's crafty eye, with remorseful sorrow. But she had always loved the Count well and been faithful to him what cause for remorse had she? The scent of a new secret flattered him. " I think that he will die," agreed Tonstain coldly, " unless you save him." Gundred looked up sharply at the words. 160 LOVE'S CHANGELING. "Alas, not mine the power ! Yet would to God that I could save him, for it is I have laid him low ! " The man breathed short, yet tried to hide his eagerness. "Are you also a witch, lady?" "A witch? no, no. Only an unloved, bitter jealous woman who prayed wild curses on the head she loved, and whose prayer was granted ! " Then Tonstain felt indeed the stars in their courses fought for him. Gundred sank upon a bench beside the wall, and laboured to still the sobs that tore her breast. She was all woman now, swayed by tempestuous emotion like a girl, and having neither force nor reason left wherewith to oppose his purpose. " If that be so, you owe our lord a wide and deep amend, lady. It lies with you to save him at a sore cost of suffering and danger to yourself." She uncovered her flushed face. " You are so cruel, Tonstain, that at this moment I believe you do but mock my misery," she said. " I swear to you by all I hold most sacred that I speak the simple truth." " Tell me quickly. I would die for him ! " " My remedy may tax you more heavily than that," he returned ; " hear it. In his long raving dreams our lord Count has imagined the presence of the woman he loves. We know not how much he may remember when he wakes to his full reason. LOVE'S CHANGELING. 161 But, however that may issue, it is most certain he will ask for news of her or demand that she be brought to have speech with him. How shall we answer?" Gundred lay back as one exhausted, her heavy eyes downcast. She shook her head despairingly. " Our good lord has lost his sight, and on that loss do I rely to save him." The woman raised herself to gaze up with a strained anxiety into those inscrutable eyes. "There is only one way." Tonstain's delibera- tion penetrated to her brain. " When he shall ask for Algitha, she must come to him." " What Goyault's wife ! " she cried out. " No, lady, another Algitha, who will seem as fair and dear to his broken sense as the Algitha he loved in that fatal picture at Gouray." " Deceive him ? take advantage of his helpless- ness! add a crown to Goyault's treachery, give him for wife a falsehood ; lie to him, dare to touch with our perfidious hands that which we know he holds most sacred dear ! " She stood upright and motioned him away. " Go, Tonstain, and on your knees ask Heaven to forgive the treason that you planned ! " " Is it a treason to desire to save his life?" de- manded Tonstain calmly ; " treachery to the State to keep a ruler whom we ill can spare while troubles grow daily at duke William's Court ? Be patient, lady ; there is more here than treason. 162 LOVE'S CHANGELING. When all's said, I am but urging that which you have done." " Enough of that ! I was wrong, it may be, it was the treachery of an instant, but the temptation came upon me to save him." " True, and I called no hard names." Gundred sat down once more ; the apathy of spent vital force weighed heavy on her. " Tell me all your mind. Heaven knows alone what is to do." " This is to do, there is no other way of it." Tonstain was ready to strike home. " You shall be Algitha and wed Count Karadac for his health's sake." Gundred sprang up, her hands pressed to her heart. " I I to be a thing so base ! " " What other will you give my lord to wife ? a stranger?" " No stranger could play the part But it is folly all ! " " Folly ? Look at Count Karadac and tell me is it folly, or is it not rather the last frail strand of hope which holds him still to a shaken anchorage on life." As he spoke Karadac drew a long, sighing breath, so weak and pitiful it seemed no other could suc- ceed it. His worn face, bedewed and ghastly, with dry parted lips, already bore the seal of death. His shadowy hand moved feebly, and as she LOVE'S CHANGELING. 163 watched it Gundred felt as if its touch were on her heart-strings. " He wakes. Go to him, give him this cordial," Tonstain whispered ; " aye, and the cordial of your lips. Remember, if he awakes and finds not Al- githa, he dies." Gundred was beside the bed, and bending over Karadac put the cordial to his lips. When he had swallowed it they stirred but no voice was audible ; only as Gundred's hand sought his, the fingers tried to close on hers. " I am still beside my lord," she murmured, and his dull ear heard, for he smiled faintly and slept again. " I have no need for further argument," said Ton- stain, when Gundred turned once more towards him, drawn as it seemed unwillingly to hear the end of his bold project. " He may live with happiness, but not without it." One hand clenched upon the other, she stood for a long time communing with herself. Tonstain could gather nothing from her troubled aspect, since, whichever way she turned, there danger and sorrow lurked. " The thing is visionary, it is not possible," she said at last. " How long could we keep so manifest a secret from his knowledge? Just so long as he lies here helpless and alone. And more than that, he must guess it for himself when he recovers all the use of all his senses. Will he not know my 164 LOVE'S CHANGELING. voice, perhaps detect my very presence by some keen apprehension new-given to the blind ? Speak of it no more ! If it were possible to deceive him for his good, I know not how I might answer you, but it would make bad worse to add outrage to his loss, to fail in a device whose sole excuse would lie in even a short measure of success." But Tonstain stood unshaken. " The happy ask few questions. Who so easily deceived as one content to go hand in hand with his belief?" She sighed impatiently. "You cannot persuade me! Do you know this Algitha has a tongue of silver, so they have told him. That gracious gift is hers it is not mine." Tonstain laughed in his heart. She was all but won, although she argued still. " Your voice is very sweet, lady " " Aye, but who can loose my tongue ? " she said with passion. " I am doubly cursed in that ! " " If I can unloose it and so set free your speech, will you save the Count? Trust me, lady, all is possible." "What? you can untie my stammering tongue? Then work your will upon it now now now! That would lend colour to your scheming. Give me one proof, and I will stand by all your counsel." " I have your promise ? " " Yes, I will swear it. If we can by any means give the Count strength to gather strength, after- LOVE'S CHANGELING. 165 wards we will tell him we did him this wrong to save him. He will not forgive me aye, I know it, but I can bear that also." " The mind of man is a riddle : let the future solve it. Meanwhile, Lady Gundred, one thing more. Should you consent to play this part, I must give knowledge of it to all who dwell with us in the Castle here, lest any coming to him unaware should frustrate us by some ignorant betrayal ; " he stopped, half doubtful of her answer. For his thought was that if all men knew, and all were equally committed to so hazardous a venture, Gundred could not draw back or make confession when the mood seized her, since in her own ruin she must overwhelm many. Thus he hoped to secure her to his will. But for the time Gundred's keen sense, her hold on the common things of life, were all lost in the flame and marvel of Tonstain's stratagem. "As you will," she said indifferently. "The shame, if shame there is, lies not in the telling but the doing." CHAPTER III. LOVE'S MOCKERY. A WEEK trailed slowly by. Slowly, that is, to some in the Castle of Gros-Nez, but not to Kara- dac, who felt with each fresh dawn the spring of a new life, a life such as he had never known before his blindness, for it was all strange gladness and pure joy, that did not vanish with the passing hour but grew until it shed an all-pervading luminance on his dark path. Health came back to him, and each precious day brought for a short space at morn and eve a pres- ence with soft movements and low voice, whose in- tonation, slow and delicately clear, charmed him with a hundred rare sweet tricks of utterance. Be- ing blind, he dwelt the more upon her voice, and wholly it bewitched him. " Lady, where learnt you these little turns of stress and accent? " he said one day. " I think the angels taught you, for never yet did woman speak like you ! " " Alas, that has ever been my fault ! " Gundred answered truthfully. " Fault ? unless it be a fault that your words are set in rhythm to a man's heartbeats so close they LOVE'S MOCKERY. 167 answer to the leaping of his blood," was the passion- ate response. "How cool the air blows upon my brows ! " It was a gloomy afternoon that promised rain, and already a damp breeze came sighing through the window. Gundred shivered. " It is the presage of the rain, sweet but not last- ing," she replied. "Rain or shine, what matters it if happiness glows within to keep the spirit warm ! " Was she happy ? She paused to ask herself the question, and Karadac, sensitive to her silence, raised himself upon the two arms of the chair wherein he lay propped with cushioned cloaks. " Are you not happy, Lady Algitha? " The anxious tenderness of affection linked to the hated name tossed Gundred's hot heart in those cross currents of emotion s'he had not yet learnt how to weather, and which many a time came near to swamping her frail bark. " So happy," she faltered; "safe, and at peace." He leaned back but half satisfied, yet so much as he desired could not come quickly, and he schooled himself to patience. A timid hand came about his head to smooth the ruffled folds beneath it, and to his waiting sense it seemed to linger in its task. On that his seeking fingers followed hers. " Lady, lend me your hand. I still fear I am a-dream." 168 LOVE'S MOCKERY. " Nay, but you are awake," she said with a soft merriment, and he pictured the smile she wore, " awake, and growing stronger day by day." He drew her hand upon his lips. " I grow stronger with this to give me courage. Soon, lady, we will leave this bleak and wind-torn spot for my own Castle of Gouray. And before the summer goes I would take you we will ride together then, if Heaven be kind to a little shrine near Grouville, the Chapel of Saint Margueritte. For it was there I first looked on your picture that blessed sight without which happiness had re- mained unknown to me for ever! " The hand in his was cold. "What the picture at Saint Margueritte's ? " Gundred almost forgot again. " I never heard of that." "Ah, Goyault told you I had seen it first at Gouray ? Dear lady, I had passed the whole night in prayer with the hermit on Saint Helier's rock thanking Heaven for the knowledge of you, ere ever I returned to my Castle and they told me the story which was mine already. None but ourselves shall know where first we met, dear lady, for, gazing upon your picture, I thought the eyes answered to my own and called me to your aid. That lies be- tween thee and me." Gundred set her teeth hard, loathing herself to think that unawares she was winning all the secrets of his love from him, yet driven to hear them by her rage of jealousy. LOVE'S MOCKERY. 169 The Count sat thinking for a while. " Goyault was very sad that evening as we two took oath in the Castle chapel that we would be your champions to the death. Was he still sad in Grenezay ? " " No, but joyous, for there he found the lady whom he loved," said Gundred. " What say you so ? Then I am doubly glad ! I thought indeed he withheld somewhat from me. Love doth work a curious alteration in a man. Goyault is open as the day yet he concealed his hope, and I, who seldom can babble of such things as move in me strongly, told him of you and of my love. For I do love you, lady, as you well know," he added humbly. Now there was one woman, not Algitha, of whom Gundred was fain to make him speak, of that one she almost seemed a stranger to Gundred now who lay her length among the June flowers., forsaken and unconsoled, and cursed the man she loved by all the gods she knew. " Nay, how can we tell what is love? For you, lord Count, have surely loved before ? " " I had sought for love and found it not. Easy loves I had in truth, such as all men can acquire, but I was not greedy for the husks which some call love. Mine was a desire of the soul though I, poor fool, had sought it through the flesh ! " " But some have loved you ? " Karadac shook his head. i;o LOVE'S MOCKERY. " Only such as love while you feed them." " Nay, lord, I know that some have loved you truly. Some have mourned for you and would fain have given all that you could ask of love, the high- est and the best ! " Something in her tones set his pulses beating. She was so sure that others loved him, might it not be because she felt moved thereto in her own breast ? Answering her, he gave a fleeting thought to Gundred's last avowal, but she could not have given him that wondrous blend of soul and heart and mind which day by day revealed itself in Algitha. " No, I knew of none. You only, lady, of all the world" " How know you that ? " she cried out in her pain. " You only saw a picture and built up from her fair face and form the woman you had dreamt of ! Had she been uncomely " " I cannot so imagine you," he answered gravely. " Yet in truth it is a chance which might well befall a man." Then shaking off his graver air, he smiled. "It is a new thought and has its own significance for others, but for me none. I have found you ! " " An ideal, built, as I have told you, from the eye alone." " Not so, Algitha, for every day doth prove my heart a true prophet. That which I foresaw, you are." Thus Karadac outpoured to Gundred's ears his LOVE'S MOCKERY. 171 inmost thoughts which such as he keep for the loved one only. He told her of Ulake and that summer night when his eyes dwelt on the horizon as if with the premonition of her coming. Aye, and much more, for she answered him like the dim echo to a joyful shout, shy, far-off, but attuned to the same key. It may not be written down how Gundred lis- tened, turning the knife in the wound a soul in torment ! There were wild moments when she could have told him all in the access of her jealous frenzy. Algitha and yet Algitha ! How he loved how he could love ! She had known it through the long hungry years and longed to hear him say as now he said : " I loved you then," " And then such was my thought of you," an exquisite inconsequence of memories heaped up about one name. But now she heard them as one who overhears ; to her the words were spoken, yet she had no part in them ! Clothed in another's empty title, she suffered those caresses once so desperately yearned for and im- agined in older days. And he in his blindness wandered on, kissing the brown hand he held, and desiring a glimpse of vision if but to praise its whiteness. Then turning back to vow he had no more to wish for since she was there Algitha, who in her divine pity had come to him, maimed, wrecked and broken as he was. Then Gundred, in one of those strange changes of her moods, flashed out in a grave playfulness 172 LOVE'S MOCKERY. that none before had ever seen her use. She with- drew her hand, accusing him. " I will not give my hand to one who can speak ill of the Count of Gersay. Only a traitor could call him thus, ' broken and maimed and wrecked ' ! " Karadac's dark face lit up. " Why not, lady, since so, alas ! he is become ? " " That I deny ! For I hold he is the noblest knight of all the world ! brave and strong and fierce and tender ! " The verve of the opening and the sudden fall of the last words enthralled him. " Algitha ! " he cried aloud, " you cannot love me ! I, a broken man, although in your sweet kindness you would deny it, blind, an outcast from the common life of other men. I, who can no longer tilt for your dear name nor carry your badge to battle ! How could you give your loveliness and youth to such as I ? Now, had it been Goy- ault ! " " Goyault ! " the soft, scornful repetition fired him anew. " Algitha, for the love of Christ, tell me can it be?" He stretched out his arms, and from out of his darkness one came and knelt beside him, and he clasped them round the form and drew it close. Thus it was that Gundred at length laid her weary head upon her lover's breast. In a wordless rapture he kissed her hair and brow LOVE'S MOCKERY. 173 and eyes, then with a strange, soft touch of rever- ence he won her lips. And she, restraining her own passion, yielded to his will, aching to know how small the reverence he owed her. Resting within his arms, robbing him of those first words and kisses ; half-distraught she was between the gnawing strain of self and circumstance. " Algitha, you cannot love me ? " he murmured. " Do I not, lord? then what is it to love? " " Dear heart, I have seemed to see you hovering above me on bright wings, and feared that when I sought to hold you in my arms you would depart." " And leave you thus ? " " Aye, thus for ever, in the dark alone ! " For answer, he felt the tears upon her cheek. There was no room for words ; the load of happiness pressed down upon his heart. When at length he spoke again it was to ask her when she had learnt to love him, what spirit had drawn her to his side. " I had heard of you, seigneur, many speak of you." " In Grenezay ? It was Goyault ! he gave you all my message ? ah, faithful friend ! " " Nay, it was long and long before I saw Goyault. In the past years I heard your name and loved it." " My name, sweetheart you loved my name ? Say it in your dear voice as you have said it to yourself before we met." Gundred, with her cheek pressed to his, whispered : i/4 LOVE'S MOCKERY. " Karadac, Karadac ! I would that such a knight as Karadac might love me ! " Thus answering each to each they told in frag- ments the history of their past, and Karadac found in her replies strange echoes of his own old yearn- ings for the love supreme. It seemed almost un- earthly to hear these same thoughts from other lips, and those so young and innocent that on them the sweet breath of childhood lingered still. With gentle care he took her head between his hands and bent down his face towards her as if through his closed lids he could see her by the force of his desire. "Love, I almost seem to see you ! to see that golden head and the red mouth which tells me I am beloved. Love, are you flushing over all your fairness? Can you not feel I see you? Answer me with those eyes that called me in the chapel of Saint Margueritte ! " then raised his face to heaven : " God, grant me to see her as she is ! " With a choked cry she slipped away from between the wistful hands. His prayer to see her as she was ! could that be granted as her prayer had been what then ? Oh, it could never be! Better die a hundred deaths of pain than meet his glance of loathing and contempt.. Crouched by him on the ground, a burning vision passed before her. " No more, dear lord, no more ! " she sobbed. " Suffer me to leave you now. I will return." LOVE'S MOCKERY. 175 But Karadac was on his feet, trembling and stretching out groping hand. " What have I done, Algitha ? what have I done ? Beloved, you cannot leave me so ! What is it I have done to trouble you ? " Swiftly she rose and steadied his weak grasp with her own. "Nay, lord Karadac what have you done? Made me too happy that is all ! " On the dim stone staircase Tonstain met her rushing like a storm. " All goes well, lady ? " She drew back as if at bay, and he saw her dark eyes gleam. " Aye, for I am in hell ! And 'tis you have damned me, Tonstain ! " CHAPTER IV. THE COMING OF ALGITHA. UNDER the battlements a flagged footway led round the outer wall. There Gundred carried her flooded heart. The August rain was falling soft and thick and close ; below tower and cliff the sea swung in a deep swell, half hidden by the misty veiling of the shower. She was alone ! she thanked God for that, if for naught else. She was alone to face he'r trouble. The sentinel on the square citadel above saw the sweep of a rich robe come and go behind a jutting bastion. " God, grant me sight to see her as she is ! " The words and prayer had stabbed the darkness of her soul to light. What had she done ? for the first time she saw the whole infamy of Karadac's be- trayal. Defraud a man of all things, wealth and power and friendship, but leave him love ! And it was no enemy had done this thing, but she who thought she loved him ! Borne down between the shocks of love and jealousy, she had lent herself to desecrate his inmost shrine of dreams. How sacred THE COMING OF ALGITHA. 17; he held that shrine she learned more fully day by day. With hurrying steps she paced up and down the footway of wet granite, her head between her hands, for the air seemed loud with clamorous voices. She knew now how eager she had been from the beginning to play her unnatural part, and how al- most happy in the first glow of playing it. She looked back upon herself. To have him woo her to usurp his tenderness to gather to herself that knowledge of him which could be given to none save her he loved to arrogate the outgoings of an affection long and bitterly refused her all these had raised an exultation in her brain. With a venom of self-contempt she acknowledged all. She and her heart how unimaginably fallen ! Yet even at such an hour as this her false posses- sion of him filled her with a torture of joy and pride that lasted to the very end. Better die a thousand deaths than be deceived as he had been ! Yet could she go and tell him all? The inevitable moment had arrived when she must face the crisis of her guilt. How would it be with him when she disclosed the truth ? when he knew that it was not Algitha but another whom he had held within his arms ; and to whom he had poured out the deep things of his love ? With terri- ble foresight GunJred saw the heart-wound she must give. She pictured Karadac's self-loathing, for I ;8 THE COMING OF ALGITHA. he would sicken at himself, scoff at his readiness of fond belief ! She pictured his despair when in the shattering of hope and happiness his defencelessness was brought home to him. She fancied the blind face with tears upon it, and clutched at the air in wild anguish of remorse. How could she tell him ? She leaned her elbows on the battlements and looked out upon the towering pinnacle of Gros-Nez. The rain had passed off for the moment, and she saw the great mass with bristling spires and jagged fangs clear-cut against a background of sea and sky. Above her its defiant crest ; below, plunging sheer down into the depths, the unsealed side rowelled into spikes and spines of living rock. With steady swing the water rose about the lower spurs and fell back fretted into a thousand rivulets. How could she tell him ? Once it had seemed almost an easy task to kneel and to confess that she had deceived him to restore his ebbing life : but now, how dreadful, how impossible ! So much had passed between them since that day when, hungering for his love, she had bought it at such bitter cost to both ! Now she felt she could not live to say the words which must be spoken if A rough-hewn step far down upon the Castle rock caught her eye and broke in upon her reverie. She leaned out and saw a hidden postern door, and leading to it a yard or two of dizzy track no more. And straightway forgot that she had seen, for over THE COMING OF ALGITHA. 179 against her on the towering side of Gros-Nez peak there was a curving granite slope flushed as a faded rose, and seamed and wrinkled into a network of fine lines like some old cheek. Gundred's eyes dwelt long upon it. It held her spellbound, this vision of unutterable age. Her cheek would yet be scored as that was by the chisel of the years. How short at best was our poor human span of love and joy ! She started upright. Why not hold it then, since it was in her hand ! Yes, pursue her course, having once begun it, to its utmost end. She had thought of her marriage with Karadac as the cap to his undoing, the extremity of outrage on his helplessness. Whereas in truth, being deceived, let him live on in the dear fancy which fulfilled his dreams. Algitha, wife of Goyault, could be even less to him than herself. Fate had thrust a false gleam of joy upon them both ; let them be glad in it till Fate's shadow fell again. Why should she hasten the day of ill? To be the wife of Karadac, to possess his love and confidence, however gained, however swiftly lost, would be enough to fill eternity with mem- ories. Or soon or late, the hour must come when all her world would fall in ruins about her head, but once she had been his wife, his best-beloved, it mattered little what came afterwards ! Who looks beyond his Day of Judgment ? i8o THE COMING OF ALGITHA. " Poor stone ! " she said, " you who have never known joy or tenderness or deep desire, you still can bear unmoved the buffets of God's storms. And shall I flinch while I can satisfy his heart, and snatch for him and for myself a brief span of bliss from all the" empty years ? It is enough ! I will not turn back, and let the end be what it may ! " Assured of Algitha, Karadac permitted no de- lays. His heralds and his messengers passed through the island bidding all men, from seigneur to serf, to gather for his marriage at Gouray. During those last days spent in Goyault's Castle the sun hid himself, and squalls blew up from the grey waste of sea. Gundred, waiting for the ordeal of the day when she should stand forth as the false bride of Karadac, listened to the sorrow of the rain without and moaning wind, and knew them for a presage. Sad days of early autumn that seemed to weep for a dead summer. Settled in her resolve, she passed long hours with the Count, forgetting while she could that he loved, not her, but the hated name she bore. And day by day she won upon him with her subtle brain, quickened to keener vigour under the stimulus of his poet's fantasies and her own foreshadowing that the time was short. And Karadac marvelled at her, loving her the more as more he found her comparable to his high- est thoughts, thus he loved her, praised her until he almost broke her heart. THE COMING OF ALGITHA. 181 Mid-August came in a new burst of summer, and with it Goyault and Algitha from Grenezay. Ton- stain, hearing of their coming, hurried forth to meet them at the gate, and as they talked together he marked the changes that a month of marriage had wrought in the young knight. This was no longer the old Goyault, full of frank laughter and the joy of a free heart, but a man with quick, questioning glances in his eyes and a frown that came to brood most readily on his brows. As for Goyault, to his apprehension all seemed changed. Old friends looked askance at him, though some whispered leering in his ear that much might be forgiven one with so fair a bride. The warmth of greeting, the homeliness, the merry comfort he remembered, all were gone, and in their place suspicion and furtive smiles and curious regards. Tonstain spoke at length of the Count's long sickness and recovery, then taking those two apart where none might overhear, he would have told them all, but Goyault cried : " I need no middleman betwixt my lord and me. Lead on. He is much changed, or he will hear me before he condemns ! " "When Count Karadac hears your defence we shall be all undone ! " said Tonstain with a thin smile. " That much is certain." " Go, lead on ! " Goyault moved imperiously. 1 82 THE COMING OF ALGITHA. " Stay, Goyault. What think you, our lord has found another Lady Algitha! " Tonstain hung on the mailed elbow and peered eagerly at the knight's surprise. " Karadac already loves another ? impossible ! " " Another, yet the same," interposed Tonstain slily, and while the two wondered at him he poured forth the history of Gundred and the Count. Then a great wrath fell upon Goyault. " Gundred ? the woman always loved him ! come, Sieur, you and I will end this masque, this midsummer madness ere it go further! " " Stay, Goyault, you having seized the prize for lack of which he must have died, now forsooth would call us traitors! " "But Lady Gundred you well know how deeply he misliked her ! " "And Lady Algitha you well know how strangely he was set on her ! Yet you were not loath to sacrifice your loyalty to your love, Seigneur of Saint Ouen. And what did Gundred more, ex- cepting that she had excuse, and you had none." Algitha turned blue vivid eyes on Tonstain. " My lord had his excuse, Sieur I loved him ! " "Lady, he was rarely blest in that. But a far poorer reason had been good enough for one who only looked to please himself," he added coldly. Goyault stood mute. Shame and misery were doubly heaped upon him, for he must see his lord and friend duped and fooled by such as Tonstain, THE COMING OF ALGITHA. 183 the while he, by his own act, had left himself with- out the right to raise one word in protest. " Had I been here," he murmured to himself, but Tonstain caught the wish. " Had you been here we might have lacked occa- sion for the trick. Now carry out your part ; attend the marriage with your lady. For aught else it is too late." "And I, if there be another Algitha, what who am I ? " Algitha asked disdainfully. " The lovely chatelaine of Gros-Nez. Believe me, you will look as fair in all men's eyes by any name," Tonstain answered, but with a tinge of something in the courtesy which left Goyault ill pleased. "Preparation has been made to carry my lord this day to Gouray," added Tonstain. " We start within the hour. To-morrow is for the marriage." A sudden burst of a man's laughter, loud and high, re-echoed through the Castle. Goyault laughed and laughed again, and knew not why he laughed. In a distant room where Gundred sat by Karadac the sound was carried faintly, and the Count sprang up. " Goyault is come ! They have told him of our marriage ! Algitha, hear him he laughs for joy, Goyault, Goyault, come hither!" But once before had Goyault heard his lord's voice pitched to that selfsame key. He stood rigid 1 84 THE COMING OF ALGITHA. as if to listen a dull notion aching in his heart that aforetime when he had heard those joyous tones, he feared ; now he feared and was ashamed ! " Come," Tonstain took him by the shoulder, " he should be no laggard who dares all for love. We will hasten the Count's going, for the day wanes. But now forth to him, and beware of tripping tongues." Then hand in hand Goyault and Algitha moved softly through the dim passages like guilty things, and so came upon the Count where he stood all ready by the inner gate and many waited round him. "Goyault, a thousand welcomes! Look, my lords and knights, upon this faithful friend, who saved and won for me my wife ! Algitha, my be- loved," he drew Gundred proudly to his side, " join me in thanking your noble champion of the lists. Put his hand in mine, sweet one, and tell the world our gratitude ! " Gundred, with black brows drawn and set swarthy face, stood by her lord undaunted. She had steeled herself for this, steeled herself to see the slow, in- evitable smile creep round from lip to lip. But Goyault was not prepared. The kindly greeting and the pity of the scene, with Karadac for its centre, beat him to the ground. And many who once envied him, rejoiced to see him, aforetime so high-hearted, now stand out a sorry figure for the common herd to jeer at. THE COMING OF ALGITHA. 185 Meantime Tonstain had brought Algitha to the Count. Her lips were white and stern and her eyes blazed dark, for she was outraged in the person of the man she loved. She cast a furious glance on Gundred, then her face slowly took on a cold compassion. She read the tragedy of the other woman's life and pitied her. The offence of pity Gundred might have for- given her some day, but when Karadac, with grave kindness, would have kissed her hand, Algitha raised her eyes to the Count's marred face. This was the man who would fain have been her husband, for whose sake reproach had fallen on Goyault ! Even now he dreamed that he possessed her. Re- vulsion against him and his love and strong con- tempt surged up into her face. That also Gun- dred saw, and never in all the years of life to come forgave. Soon the long procession wound away across the heath, and last rode Karadac and Gundred side by side. Of all that throng the Count alone carried a light heart. Goyault watched them go, oppressed with many thoughts. The long cavalcade curved across the open ground and sank into the fringing woods. Then Algitha, pressing to his side, spoke out im- petuously. " Is that your Count with his stern lip and most imperious brow ? I to be his wife I to wed that blind fierce eagle, whose very lack of sight strikes a 1 86 THE COMING OF ALGITHA. cold horror through me ! Goyault, how could you think it think to mate me with your Count? " But Goyault was past the utterance of many words. Heaviness lay on him. " Alas, Algitha, that you should so misjudge him ! " But Algitha's proud blood was hot within her. " This Karadac works like a poison in you all ! But most in you, Goyault. At sight of him, you are no more Goyault, but one who is ashamed of love ! And see this whole land playing a crazy masque because, forsooth, Karadac craves an Algitha a puppet of his sick dreams ! Shame on you all ! " But Goyault said no more, only gazed after those two who rode last, and rode together, Karadac and Gundred, with that wild story woven in their lives, until at length the wise old forests closed upon them. CHAPTER V. THE MARRIAGE FEAST. IN the long hall the marriage feast was set. Above, the low vaulted roof held dimness in its breast, a brooding cloud above the ruddy torch- light. Karadac and his bride sat high enthroned upon a dais, and about them a great flare of torches multiplied, for so the Count had given command, being fain that all men should behold the loveliness, the ineffable loveliness which filled his fancy of his bride. Yet even there, between the leaping tongues of flame, the shadows from the roof slid down the walls and snatched away an instant's light. Drogo de Barantin stood apart and watched the scene with rheumy eyes that held the salt of tears. The bride, his child, his Gundred throned beside her lord, and he himself, her father, by some crafty bedevilment sworn to silence and cut off from all the honours due to him. Gundred wedded to the Count of Gersay his wish fulfilled at last, but surely it was turned to ashes in his mouth ! Gun- dred, always heretofore a loving daughter and sub- missive, had bidden him depart to Rozel, for, said 1 88 THE MARRIAGE FEAST. she, words are dangerous. Yet, when had he, Drogo de Barantin, spoken any but wise words? Like some old pantaloon, bewitched to dumbness, he hung the long day through upon the fringes of the marriage tragedy. His touch would linger on the sleeve of some more lucky guest, till men turned with mocking eyes upon him and laughed one to the other as he slipped away, murmuring in his beard reproaches and sound argument which his oath to Gundred stifled from free speech. He stood deserted by the great lower door through which scullions and cooks jostled each other, bearing huge dishes for the board. Few torches lightened the smoky darkness here, but he could see rough-haired and unkempt heads of fisher- folk and serfs wagging in the gloom, and uncouth faces wide with laughter. In peevish longing he looked up the lines of guests to the board's head where Gundred queened it at her husband's side. The suspense and shame of the hour, when a chance joke from some drunken guest might bring down all the frail building of her happiness, had brought a heavy flush to her cheek, but, always cold and proud, Gundred had gained in these latter days a new majesty of mien, a royalty of sadness. And dark Karadac the imperious was not himself, he was another; gay, lighthearted, his sombrous moods thrown off, but Drogo shook his head 'twas because the venom of his fever lingered yet in him, left him clinging to false visions in a world THE MARRIAGE FEAST. 189 turned upside down. Algitha, Algitha ! hear him speaking now, calling her Algitha whose hand he held ! Algitha, whom all the world knew these past thirty years to be Gundred, his daughter, the Sieur of Rozel's daughter and heiress of broad lands, no beggar Saxon maid. " Drogo de Barantin, what do you here? " a cold voice in his ear, and Drogo shook like a leaf in a stormy wind. A tall cowled form stood by him. " And who hath a better right than I to witness these my daughter's bridals ? " asked Barantin tremulously. " None, if you held your due place thereat." Drogo called up his old assurance. " Why, so I said, good father, but they would not listen. Here am I cast out from board and feasting, forbidden high lodgment by the bride which is in truth my due and sworn to keep my- self in cornered silence." " And you have obeyed ! you also lend yourself to your lord's deception ? No further quibbles, I pray of you ! It is enough that Karadac is mortally deceived." Drogo de Barantin peered up beneath the coarse hood. " Karadac is mad ! " he whispered. " Are you not Ulake, the hermit of the rock ? Then, good Ulake, take it upon the word of one who is duke William's trusted servant that Karadac is mad ! " 190 THE MARRIAGE FEAST. " No, you do dupe me ! Karadac has been de- ceived how I know not, by the craft of Tonstain why I know not ! " " Deceived ? but Gundred loves him loves the Count beyond the force of words ! She would die for him," urged the little shaking man. " Aye, loves him. That tells the story in itself. By fraud she has secured him. Let me pass. Here before the world at this great feast I will unstop his ears, even though his eyes be sealed ! " But Drogo clung to him. " Ulake, good Ulake, be not rash. I myself, if I could talk with him but one little hour, would show him all the reasonableness of this marriage. I would point out that the Algitha he dreams of is but a Saxon witch ; I would point out, since Heaven had blinded him, what concern has he further with hair that golden is or black, all colours being the same to his lost eyes. See you not my argument? Karadac is hotblooded, and has been wrongfully wrath with me ere now, but this is so plain a truth it cannot fail to reach him. The fever overturned his brain, Ulake, but sound counsel such as mine will work the cure." A deep voice that silenced the clamour rang down along the hall. Karadac stood upon his feet and called upon his lieges. " Have you not heard, good friends, the Romance of the Picture? How I first gazed upon my lady's face not as you do look upon it now in its native THE MARRIAGE FEAST. 191 snow and rose but on her fair presentment in which some wonder-handed man had painted all her golden beauty. Would you not look on both, and see how far my bride transcends her mirrored love- liness ? Goyault ! Sieur Goyault, you who won my lady Algitha from death " A hoarse drunken laugh rose to the smoke-hung rafters. Goyault lifted his face from shelter of his hand, and scowled upon the roysterers. "Aye, Goyault won Algitha!" shouted a bold voice. Karadac smiled. The wine was high in every man what wonder if the sight of Algitha in her sweet beauty fired some wild brain to folly ? " Go, Goyault, and bring here the picture from the chapel." " Bid him fetch Algitha ! " again shouted the wild voice. And amongst the maddened crew the suggestion grew in favour, as some lewd jest to be played off in laughter. Goyault rose and slowly left the hall. Now in- deed he had time to be thankful that Algitha, the true Algitha, moved by more than some wind of woman's humour, had jealously refused to ride from Gros-Nez for the bridal feast. Trouble was in the air. Meantime Karadac whispered of love and a whole world's admiration in the dull ear of Gundred, while Tonstain, standing upright at the board with frown- ing brows, sent a sharp mandate from ear to ear 192 THE MARRIAGE FEAST. that the ill was now done, and if lord Karadac should to-night learn his betrayal, whose head should stand to-morrow on its shoulders ? Had they not all stood by in silence as he pledged his troth ? Would Karadac forgive ? Nay, in hot blood his sword, for all his blindness, would find more hearts than one. Let them beware ! The warning sobered for the moment those who heard. But Gundred, looking on the wine-flushed faces, knew her time was short. To-night within the hour, if all went well, she would ride forth with her lord to some hidden haunt among the hills, where it was his will that their first days of love should pass, a spot unknown and solitary ; and they two alone, living as simply as the serfs, find love's fulfilment in each other. If she could compass this before the charm of his blindness was broken for Karadac, then she could count on a space of happiness for both. A little time to show him that her soul held all he lacked of love ; a little time to taste life's sweetness ; a fleeting hour it must be, yet, once en- joyed, her own. Perhaps a deep hope lived in her unaware that she could fix his love immutably, and naught ever- more prevail against her. But Goyault's words echoed through her thought, the words uttered in the chapel when first the fatal picture came among them to breed woe : " It is the whole we love, the whole most blessed embodiment and soul. The one sweet element supports another, each adds to THE MARRIAGE FEAST. 193 each and they are indivisible." Aye, and Karadac dwelt on Algitha's lips and eyes ; what had she to counterweight that golden beauty? Was man's love this even Karadac's ? Into the void of his blind world had arisen this glorious sun of Algitha. He was held in the grip of fancy and of dreams, of long imaginings and sweet silences ; but interwoven all with visions of blue eyes that shone, red lips and snowy tints ; and when he learned at length that his Algitha was no Algitha, could the torn fabric of those dreams ever be made whole again ? The dark knights and seigneurs of the land were drawing up towards the dais, and behind them she could see hard faces of the men-at-arms, backed by staring, wild-eyed peasants. A hush hung over all, half expectation and half strain. She scanned the crowd. Cruel, insensate fools, playing their wild game with a man's soul, a woman's agony ! Ton- stain's quiet figure moved slowly through them with a word here and there, as best beseemed each case, but his anxious eye was ever upon Ulake. He knew the tall figure and feared its mission of dis- closure. As he drew near he heard Drogo's foolish iteration : " Karadac is mad, I tell you ; he dwells in a world that is upside down ! " But the hermit's cold gaze was on Tonstain. " Karadac is not mad, he dreams," said Tonstain easily. " For all of us is not life a dream ? life in the dark is but a dream within a dream." 194 THE MARRIAGE FEAST. " Peace, Tonstain ! That "he raised a hand towards the dais " is no dream. Karadac's life is poisoned at its source, his heart is pricked by fraud, his blood drains from him hour by hour, and yet he knows it not. Yours is the guilt, Tonstain, blood- guilt ! " "And you would reveal all to him ? " "Am I not here?" rejoined the other. " If the Count dreams, his visions are of joy, but you, his friend, would waken him to sorrow. Be it so." Tonstain shrugged his shoulders, and made as if to turn away. " Nay, but if long indulged in, the dream will grow too dear." " A consummation much to be prayed for, much to be supplicated from kind Heaven," retorted Tonstain. " What better could befall ? " Ulake dwelt upon the answer. It bore a touch of truth. Tonstain grasped the moment. " Do you desire his wellbeing, Ulake ? Then let him dream, until perchance his wife's redemption be born of growing love. Had he wedded Algitha, he must have craved pardon for his marriage from his suzerain, duke William of Normandy, and craved in vain. And how think you would the Lady Matilda, a cold devotee, receive one who has been called a Saxon witch ? With honour at her Court ? You know that could not be. We did ill, it may be, but good has come of it. Karadac dreamed of Algitha through his long sickness, and we but gave a substance to his dream." THE MARRIAGE FEAST. 195 " A false substance." " True, we could do no more, since the Count's friend Goyault had taken the true Algitha to wife. Ulake, let be ! You are no heady priest who, right or wrong, pushes forth a creed though it should set a world on fire." "Oh, serpent-tongued how fair the guise you put upon illdoing ! Well, I will wait. See, 'tis there your danger lies." Goyault passed up the hall, holding the picture to his breast so that none could look upon it, and the feasters crowded round him. " It is Goyault. They press upon him," whis- pered Gundred. Karadac stood upright. " Rise, dear heart ; " then called aloud : " My lords and vassals, we will have the picture set here beside my lady's self, and you, good friends, shall judge how great the painter's art, and yet how far below this matchless pattern." The man was, for the moment, all compact of happy pride his old sad self forgotten. A derisive cheer went up from husky throats. And Goyault, moving slowly and more reluctantly, pushed the picture with a maladroitness strange to one so deft askew upon the dais, so that those who looked saw nothing but a blur. " Show us the lady's face, Goyault ! " a single voice followed with malicious echo. Karadac spoke in low, angry tones. 196 THE MARRIAGE FEAST. " What hast thou done, Goyault ? Will you flout my lady and cheat my guests of this great honour I have designed them? Where is the picture? Here, lay my hands upon it, Algitha," and so, grop- ing from his place, he raised the picture to the board, and his scarred face burned radiant as the beholders raised shout upon shout. For a space men thought of nothing but the pic- ture ; the wistful, girlish grace and tender charm went home to each man's heart ; while Goyault, sick in mind, slipped aside and would not look on that he feared was now to be his own and his great lord's undoing. Yet whom to blame ? Not Algitha, lov- ing, faithful, injured Algitha ! Beside the presentment of her young and fair rival Gundred stood rigid, clothed in her strange majesty, not fearing comment or comparison, regal, impas- sive. And in that heated moment her cold pride seemed to those who looked as though she scorned her rival, and bad blood rose in vacant, fevered brains. It was a concrete struggle for pre-eminence, woman against woman the fair, pleading pictured maid set in rivalry against the dark lady, repellent in her silent pride. Beauty defeated ? What man could let the victory go without a word, an effort ? Howls of derision and dislike and wild tumbled sentences, one breaking in upon another, filled the hall with tumult. " Heaven open thine eyes, good lord ! " THE MARRIAGE FEAST. 197 But Tonstain was by Karadac, and with a word of Algitha in his ear, of defending her from sight and sound of these rude flatterers, drew him forth through a little door covered with arras, that led upwards to the women's room. Gundred stood still, one hand upon the picture, which she held upright beside her still, challenging the world. Her dark, undaunted eyes met the on- rush of the maddened crowd with the same steady scorn. Death, if it came thus at such a moment, had few terrors for her soul. But, before the wild rush reached her, Ulake gained her side ; his hood thrown back, his aspect cowed the foremost few. " Back, traitors, this lady is the Count's bride. Lord Karadac has taken to wife one of your blood, a lady of the land, no stranger. Back, and salute her who shall rule you all ! " The resonant call held the crowd hangfooted. " Good father, the Count hath been deceived. He has not learned that the picture is one, his wed- ded bride another," a voice came from the lower hall. " That lies between your lord and Heaven if it be so," said Ulake with command. " Has Karadac ever suffered meddling with his doings? Is he not still imperious? Come, choose one of your num- ber who shall go and tell him that he is deceived." In the hush some shuffled, but none detached themselves from the huddled group of poorer folk, 198 THE MARRIAGE FEAST. and the lords showed a new disdain and held apart, but there came no answer, only the people returned to seek their places at the board. Gundred laid the picture on its face, raising to Ulake eyes of woe, and ever after in his prayers the hermit prayed for her as for a lost soul. The trampling of the hoofs had died away, and naught remained to sight but the flickering trail of torchlight which one bore before Karadac and his bride into the wooded solitudes across the hills. " Well, we have gained time to breathe," said Tonstain, "time to prepare ourselves for the last moment, should Karadac prove cruel in the ven- geance which must come." Ulake replied at odds and broodingly. " She is a noble lady." "Aye, his very mate now he is blind," laughed the other. " A noble soul, already full of penitence, but with an unquenched fire of pride." " I could have loved her, I myself, had she been comely," uttered Tonstain, and Ulake looked upon him keenly till he laughed again. " Nay, Ulake, she would have none of me, for she has always loved my lord." "And he?" " Oh, you have heard of it how he fled from her ! And yet with her high thoughts and her dumb pride she is his very mate, as I have said." Ulake pondered still. He bethought him of a THE MARRIAGE FEAST. 199 moonlit night and one who lay upon a rock and cried out haughtily : " I had not missed her so. My heart must have warned me, ' Karadac, look up, thy beloved is nigh.' ' And now it seemed as though, but for God's dire punishment, Love, truest and dearest Love had passed by Karadac be- cause it wore no guise of earthly beauty. " Is it beauty that we love ? " he asked in a half- whisper. " Heaven made us so, we love but through the eye : what would you ? I have a rare jesting story of one who was blind, and a woman who was ugly. But men in that country praised her fairness to that blind man's ear till he was consumed with hot desire. She was a maiden with none to help her. So he ruined her in truth, believing in her beauty. Her homeliness had been her safeguard, but it had failed. And all the world made jests upon her sor- row and appraised each other's wit. See you, her- mit ? A twisted place, Christ's world ! " Then Ulake passed out from the mocking echoes of Tonstain's words, and so along the marshy shores towards his home. "Alas, Karadac! But I will stay my hand. God on high avenges or withholds." CHAPTER VI. AFTER. AUTUMN in a sunny mood was lingering on the uplands. No wild winds yet shook down the dy- ing leaves, but death came to them gently on a sighing breeze and drew them down to rest in thickets still breathing warm of summer, or on sweet sward where their last languors might swoon away in sunshine. Remote, withdrawn among the hollows of the haunted hills, Karadac aforetime had built himself a shelter for his lonely hours. To this rough hut of logs Gundred journeyed with her lord. There time stole passionately past. Each day but gave them new-born bliss of love and that keen savouring of their happiness which follows on long hunger. Solitude and full communion heart to O heart life's richest moments thick inlaid upon the hours. Karadac for the first time since his childhood lived without reservation in the present. He had escaped from the clouded weariness of life and basked in full noonday. As Love's greatness grew upon him, it expelled the lesser rabble of smaller doubts and fears ; his world appealed to him only AFTER. 201 as it reflected Algitha. He forgot to dwell in his old manner upon the whither and the whence. His delusion gave him this one good thing at least, a term of full-fraught happiness. How dear she grew ! New links were forged which day by day bound him more closely to her. There was no mood she could not meet, no thought but she would lend it wings to rise, no problem that her sweet voice could not lay at rest with re- minders of their love, in which her spirit found the proof and seal of immortality. Karadac loved to provoke her to assurances of that dim future beyond the grave. One day, his head upon her knees, he spoke. " I hear the fall of leaves upon the grass. For them it is the end. Other leaves will clothe the tree in spring, but their day has gone by for ever." It was the hour between late afternoon and even- ing. The day was drawing to its great roseate close. Level sunlight lit the open glade, and low across it swallows swooped in slantwise flight, gathering for their autumn wandering. Gundred put out her hand and caught a leaf that balanced on a puff of wind above her. " Poor leaf ! Its day is over, but it has danced the summer through ; what can any of us hope for more ? " she answered gaily. " Your hand clasps mine, dear love, but if one should fade and flutter into death, what then ? " " The tree remains, though last year's leaves 202 AFTER. have fallen from its boughs. Each new year will give it back their colour and their beauty. Beloved, these earthly hands may be unclasped by death, but love abides always, and they must meet again, changed as the leaves of one year from another, yet the same." " Algitha, you are young, how is it that you have dwelt thus much upon the life beyond ? Your thoughts are ripe, long-pondered." " Once I lived only in that dim cold light," she answered with a sudden passion ; " for elsewhere was no hope." He put his arms about her. " Have you known so much of sorrow, my Al- githa? How could that be ? " " For lack of love ! " she cried in a rage of truth. " For lack of love ? you whom all men loved ? " " Not the love I craved for." " We had not found each other then : would you say that, Algitha?" He drew her closer, waiting for the answer. "Aye, then I had not won your love," she mur- mured tremulously. Karadac spoke again. " Eternity eternity alone, without that which we have loved ! Unendurable ! Heaven is not a vista of happy throngs, but of two who once more look each other in the eyes and clasp hands for ever. The very pagans taught the soul of man was not made to be alone ; to each was given its fellow AFTER. 203 and completion, not always to be met on earth but waiting to be found somewhere in the dim future." " We are Christians with a promised heaven, not pagans fed upon vague dreams," she rejoined ex- ultantly. " And heaven means to most of us the eternal companionship of two." " I was wont," said Karadac musingly, " to harass myself with thoughts to reason with myself that among earth's many lands and nations I could scarce hope to find her whom I sought, the one true Love. I did not know then, Algitha my golden- haired, that this sad world was the better for your breathing loveliness. I had not heard your name. By what strange ways have we been brought to- gether ! Yet long ago on summer nights and dur- ing the long days that I have told you of, passed here alone among these wooded ways and hills, I have felt that you were somewhere in the vast be- yond my vision if I could but summon you. Through moonlight and through twilight I have stood beside the sea and gazed across to the far horizons and been almost assured that my strong desire had power to draw you to my side. On hot and haunted afternoons I have lain in the long grass and peered up through mazes of rose and drooping close-strung leaves that blotted out the distances, and waited for your footfall to break the quiet of my woods. You came not then, but Hope, her blue eyes lit like yours and beautiful, was with me even in those lonely times, vaguely whispering to me of To-morrow." 204 AFTER. " To-morrow ! " the word repeated itself like a fatal echo in Gundred's ear. The shadows on the opposite hillside were stretching out towards her like grasping fingers. She shivered. Karadac raised himself, turning his sightless face to hers. " What is it, beloved ? " " 'Twas but a passing thought. Yet stay, Kara- dac. There is something I would say. Now hav- ing found me, could aught change your love? Nay, but if I were old, ill-favoured ?" "You would still be Algitha, my soul's love ! " he answered passionately. " But had Algitha lost the blue eyes and golden hair you loved, and was no more to be desired save for her soul's self ? Could you love me still ? " " Sweet one," he replied ; " I do not love you for this outward beauty only, though, being but a man, I dwell much on my remembrance of your face and form, and call up upon my darkness your dear smile and blush and all the witcheries of your presence." " Without them, you would not love me ! " she cried out, clenching her hand until the nails bit upon the flesh. The note of pain quivered to his senses. " Why ask me this ? You are yourself, no other. And were we disembodied, soul to soul, should I not love you as I love you now? Answer me from the echo your own heart gives," he ended tri- umphantly. AFTER. 205 " Nay, but had I been otherwise than as I am if blue eyes and golden hair had failed to move you, to draw you to my side, you might have passed me by nor ever known " her soft tones trembled into sobs. " Then indeed had I been desolate ! " he cried. " But I must have loved you, for through the pic- ture's eyes I read far-off your soul. Nor did your glance belie you ; that same sweet soul is with me here to-day. He passed his hand across her face and touched the tear-wet lashes. " Algitha, be- loved, we have found each other. Why then weary that fair head with questionings vain as these ? My own love and dearest heart, think you that Heaven would have let us pass without some inner sign and countersign whereby to know each other? We are created things not ours the design nor ours the care for its fulfilment." Then, manlike, sure of his future and himself, he went on : " But we have met, and we do love, and not death nor time nor space can sever us again ! " He sank back upon the scented grasses of the hillside. The sun, dropped almost to the tree-tops of the ridge beyond, gleamed warm across his sight- less face. It was a time of deep content, the first in all his fiercely melancholy life. Here was the best that he ever yearned for. Here were days and dusks which would never die. Blind as he was, the thrill and tension of life stirred and swam in him as it never had before. The noises of the woods, the 206 AFTER. cool smells of the dew, the storm rocking in the branches, the fall of leaves upon his upturned face, each woke a hundred thrills in him the stinging fragrance of desire's early days. Gundred, looking upon him, held herself still. Action and reaction had their due effect upon her. A whirlwind of wild feeling thrust her mind into a new attitude. Spent and fretted with long agonies, edged to a mad impatience by jealousy and over- hanging shame, at war with all her former life, she felt that she must end it all ! It was too much to look upon those closed blind eyes and know that it was Algitha who dwelt behind them, that his moods of joyousness were Algitha's creation. She herself had but stolen in at unawares upon his love, his passion, and his broken reticences, moments that bud and die. So she held herself still and silent. She could not speak, or she must scream out the hideous truth upon the quiet evening. Yet were it not bet- ter so and thus to end it all? "Algitha," Karadac raised himself upon his elbow, " that picture it is like you ? The herald told us that it was a marvellous similitude, being your own sweet self, and lacking naught but the witchery of flesh and blood." Gundred caught her breath. Here was the mo- ment come ! " Then if I tell you that I am not so lovely as the picture, that my face is marred AFTER. 207 " What? " he put out both his hands and found her " what marred ? It cannot be ! Algitha, would you take from me my chief est joy ? " She drew his face to hers, and, cheek to cheek, she asked him : " Would you love me less ? " " It cannot be ! Algitha, why put me to this torment ? " " But if it were true as indeed it is ! " the last words almost fainted on the air. "You only try me! You have never been so cruel to me, Algitha ! " he argued hotly, her ques- tion gone by unheeded in the sudden storm. " I would not be so cruel," she wailed. This was the old fierce Karadac again, the man whom she had feared while she so loved him. His dark face was bent to hers in the strained entreaty of the blind. " You torture me, Algitha ! Confess say you have lied lied against your own fair beauty and my love ! " Hurt and sore and furious in his help- lessness, his rigorous arms tightened to pain about her. " What matters it ? You love me, be I foul or fair ! " she said with a strange laugh. " Say you lied ! Come, I will have it ! " Karadac had but one thought in that tense moment. And Gundred said with weeping eyes that she had lied, then laughed again. Karadac, at this fresh phase in Algitha, was but 208 AFTER. smitten anew with love, and thereafter followed many days that brought them their sweetest, high- est, and most influenced hours. But through the long nights, Gundred waked and listened to the voice of summer dying in the sharper rustle of the leaves. CHAPTER VII. GOYAULT'S WIFE. A DIM grey unreal morning, aglimmer with a false dawn, and Goyault riding down the swelling breasts of fair green land, making towards his Cas- tle of Gros-Nez. Through half the weary night he had joined in song and merriment at the Count's wedding feast. He and Tonstain, joint rulers while their lord was absent, laboured through the hours to allay the newborn discontent against the blind Count, urging that the marriage would find favour in the sight of duke William, and by reason of the Lady Gundred's broad domains upon the mainland, prosperity must stretch across the narrow strait of sea to those who dwelt in Gersay. Yet all men misliked the trick, each fearing for himself when revelation came. In time past Karadac had dealt out fierce judgments which were not forgotten. For though his rule was merciful and just, when he saw cause to strike, the blow fell ruthlessly. And all the while, a late guest at the board, Drogo de Barantin sat strangely silent, but the murmurers read encouragement in the weary monkey eyes that lit furtively on now one and now 210 GOYAULT'S WIFE. Outworn and sick with thinking, Goyault drew rein beside the little hut where he had been with Karadac on that unforgotten night. He recalled his passion of pity and fidelity when he knelt and placed his hands within the Count's, and took the oath to carry his lord's honour through the lists at Grenezay. He turned fretfully in his saddle ; he had not been faithful to the letter of his oath, destiny being too strong for him. Was ever man so driven by cross-purposes, so sorely tangled by events, that when the paths of love and honour sud- denly diverged, he needs must follow love's ! There beside the ruined roof he lingered with his drifting thoughts until the day mounting the sea- rim sent a flood of morning radiance upon Gros- Nez. Then Goyault turned gladly and looked upon the Castle. Bleak Gros-Nez, sun-kissed and wind- kissed, set in solitary pride upon the flowerless down, and from its crags outlooking over waters current-shot and dangerous ! His heart leaped up. Long sadness had no home there. After all, 'twas done aye, and well done ! Were it to do again, he would not alter it. Algitha was his, and loved him well. There in his own Castle of Gros-Nez she awaited him. So, singing, and with all trouble cast aside, he spurred across the bronzing brackens to the Castle gate. Goyault was gay ; he held his treasure safely for the time, the Count being still withdrawn and buried with his dream in some still woodland. GOYAULT'S WIFE. 211 Week by week drew on, and the knight already half forgot the shadow on the future, but in her secret mind Algitha held bitter remembrance of that day when she saw her husband stand shamed and humbled before blind Karadac. The more she hid the thought, the more its venom galled her. The marriage ? No, no, no ! with passionate re. fusals she had vowed she would not witness it. And now every day she sought to win Goyault from his lord, and hoped for happy chance to put into her hands good argument to fly from shores where her wounded mind foresaw further ignomin- ious moments waiting for them. Now and then, seldom as might be, Goyault would ride to Gouray and bring back news. It had not varied through the slumbrous autumn. " Kar- adac still abides with Gundred in the hills." But Algitha feared the changing season. Never- more, she vowed, should Goyault, her knight, meet humiliation face to face. She would put forth her power and persuade him on the plea of some woman's fantasy to leave Gersay before the dark hour dawned of Karadac's awakening. Through all her daily gladness in love's presence she searched for a pretext to move Goyault to her will. And worked upon him secretly, though he knew it not, to believe her happiness justified his so-called trea- son to his lord. Thus in crisp October Goyault, returning from Mont Orgueil, brought with him the Norman 212 GOYAULT'S WIFE. Duke's message to his faithful vassals requiring time to hasten to his court, since it was his desire to con- fer with each and all upon a matter of deep mo- ment. "You will go, Goyault?" Algitha cried, clinging to the arm that clasped her close. " I scarcely know, dear love," he answered her, a shade growing on his brow, " if the Count needs me here " " But he cannot need you, he must soon return to rule his island as heretofore. Goyault, you are free, for your high suzerain calls you to some great em- prise." Goyault kissed her tenderly and looked down in- to the loving eyes with something of sadness in his smile. " Some say, sweetheart, that William is bent up- on the conquest of the Kingdom of England." " Then you must ride with him ! " "Nay, Algitha, your own beloved countrymen beneath a conqueror's heel ! It has a sound of woe." " Woe ? not woe, but joy, Goyault, since we shall have a man for king and not a puling church- man ! My country cast us out, my father Algar, an old man, and myself, a maiden, although no fault dwelt in us, save that, like the English always, we asked for freedom." " 5ut it was Norman enmity that exiled you, sweet wife," cried Goyault in surprise. GOYAULT'S WIFE. 213 "Aye, and it is Norman kindness shall bear us home again ! If you would win forgiveness for my father, you must haste to William's standard. And mayhap some day our own broad lands beside the flowing river will be yours ! " She nestled her golden head against him, and looking up with her blue eyes into his face won first a tender smile before she spoke again. " O Goyault, I love you well, but I have sickened for the gleam of the rich meadows in our English vales, the silver curve of the old old river beside the ancient turf where in my girlish days we met, you and I, Goyault, who were yet to love so dearly." Goyault was still a lover, and as a lover answered her. " But, dear heart," he said presently, looking across the battlements to the sea, " it hurts to leave these world-end crags and yon long view to Grene- zay, where also we have loved. And here in my own Gros-Nez we have been happy too ? Dark starless nights and these old crags have heard our whispering. And we have been glad on summer morns, when all the sea was blown into flower pet- als by contrary winds, " Let us go with William back to England." " And leave all this ? I dreamt, Algitha, that you had grown to love this old grey castle." " Will not your name bring a hundred others to the standard of the Duke ? All who knew Goyault of Gros-Nez on distant battlefields and in the wars 214 GOYAULT'S WIFE. against the infidel will crowd to follow you. You will go, beloved ? " she pressed him, smiling. Goyault smiled too, but absently. " I cannot go. What of Karadac and " She drew away out of his arms, and leaned upon the low grey wall, half turned from him. " Algitha, what is it ? " he implored, but he must speak again and yet again before she deigned re- ply. " Karadac it is always Karadac ! I am tired of his name." "Aye, you knew him not in former days." Algitha turned upon Goyault with a quick flash of radiant eyes. " And what is he to us ? Has he not his bride with whom he idles away the summer hours? Think you he is not content, or he would return to Mont Orgueil ? The black bitter woman has taught him to love her after all ! It is lucky to be blind, in sooth, for you can make your love of what fashion it most pleases you she should be ! " "Algitha, do you forget?" Goyault forced him- self to the words : " I betrayed his trust. How set he was on his dream-love you know who saw him." " Betray his trust ? Nay then, 'twas I would none of him I And you loved me so little that you would have given me to his arms a pigeon mated with a hawk ! I do believe you love me not, Goyault ! " " Not love you, Algitha ? " the accusation over- GOYAULT'S WIFE. 215 whelmed him, being as he was fathoms deep in love. " When I forgot all my knightly word and honour for your sake ! Not love ? Did I not foresee the scorn in my old friends' eyes when I should stand before the Count and tell him. I had but half my agony on that day when he stood unsuspecting in my Castle gate, and I stood silent in dishonour." u Whatever you have done, 'twas for sake of love and me ! " she rejoined with a soft smile. "And think you not at this moment it was pardonable? " with all her witchery she held herself apart and let his eyes adore her. " Yes, and yes and yes ! " " Then for my sake also delay not ! Let us away before Karadac becomes aware of of " " Of the wrong that I have done him," cried Goyault. " Sweetheart of mine, when I look on you then most I know the wrong he suffered ! " " Nay, but he has done us a wrong ! " she an- swered hotly, her memory stinging her to fresh re- sentment. " He wrung from you an oath no man could keep ! What claim had he upon my love that I should share his broken life? We should be so happy, you and I, dear love, and yet we are not ! " The natural protest of her youth for utter happi- ness startled Goyault. " Algitha you, not happy ? Oh, my God ! " "You are changed, Goyault, since that day you looked again on your dark Count you are not the Goyault I wedded, lighthearted always, and with a 216 GOYAULT'S WIFE. joyous fire of life running through all your days. Now you are become a man of long and moody si- lences. Only when I cheer you can I gain your old glad smile." She clung about his neck. "Let us go away, dear love ! Why should we dwell in shadow?" Goyault kissed her long tresses for reply, and she knew that his consent was nearly won. " Goyault, take me hence from Gersay, for I have grown to shudder at the Count. I fear his blind closed eyes and yet am glad that he is blind ! I could not bear to meet that black keen glance you told me of. He seems to me like some great eagle who one day will compass these strong towers with his wings, and crush them flat and hurl them head- long down into the sea ! " And Goyault, caressing her, felt a new anger stir against his lord. Yes, they would go to find peace and contentment in another land, free from that sightless overmastering presence. CHAPTER VIII. " THE CHORD OF SELF." A LOW sunset, smoky-red and ominous, flared across the marshes upon the dim old pile of Mont Orgueil, and Gundred watched it heavily as though Fate stared upon her eye to eye. Yet within the Castle all was well. Through dripping woods, leaf-drifted, their sum- mer hues all blotted out in tears, Gundred and Karadac had ridden home to Gouray. Their horses' feet trampled under foot the broken glory of the bracken. Fierce gales had swept the boughs half-naked, and chill drops fell from them to Gun- dred's cheek, chill as her own heart. So the Count brought back his wife to Mont Orgueil. Since then all had gone strangely well. Karadac avoided the company of men and dwelt retired, content indeed, but over-conscious of his loss to deal with the world as formerly. Many sought him, but between himself and such curious comers he put Gundred and Tonstain, so that none could attain speech with him. And this the people laid to Gundred's charge, and some had met her roughly, taunting her, yet she ever passed on in silence. 2i8 "THE CHORD OF SELF." But to-day she knew that trouble loomed, for Tonstain had bidden her to wait him in the pleasance. Avoiding the once rose-filled corner where she had met Karadac on that sad night and cursed him, she sought the southern wall and from thence overlooked the long black morasses with their fiery pools, and face to face the furnace-bellied sun. The wind flung out a long dark tress from under- neath her veil, and as it clung about her throat she thought how oft her lord had kissed her hair with rapture, calling it silken sunlight Alas ! And close upon the thought came a bitter sigh. Well, she held him still, in spite of risk and smouldering ill-intent. For two enchanted months Karadac had called her wife. She had grown brave upon her shortlived joy, and was prepared to battle for it with a desperate heart. Tonstain ! Yes, she was grateful to rely upon him, to trust his crafty brain at such a moment : surely he could find means to avert the threatened evil. And he, coming softly over the tufted grasses, saw her thus, a grand defiance in her quiet form, and fire reflected in her eyes. She turned her head and looked upon him, asking her silent question. But Tonstain leant upon the castellated wall and seemed to think awhile. Acrid wood-smoke rose upon the evening breeze from the village at the cliff-foot, and upon the man's keen pallor the sun shone red as blood. "THE CHORD OF SELF." 219 Gundred shuddered. "Speak, Tonstain ! Some new danger?" she said briefly. Tonstain wrapped his hands in his long sleeves with a deliberate motion. " Danger or joy, I know not which. You shall decide," he answered. " If that be so," she said, half laughing with relief, " then joy it shall be, for wherefore should I choose sorrow ? " Tonstain cast a quick glance upon her. It was a sweet lightsomeness of mood, a new charm flowered in the sun of love that added a gracious touch to her cold dignity. Truly Love, the wizard, has power to transform, he thought idly ; while she, her fears but in part appeased, waited a reply. " It is no simple question," he said presently. " But since it most concerns yourself, I have re- solved that you shall be the arbiter." Gundred drew her long falling veil about her. " What new enemy is this? " she asked. " No ememy, lady. It is Nature herself who has given to us one of her own deep problems, leaving us to answer it as we will." " Why keep me in suspense?" " So far, lady, fortune has been upon our side. But this new peril for peril you may call it lies with my lord Count Karadac himself." " But he is well? The scar upon his brow has healed, his strength has come again as in old times before his blindness." 220 "THE CHORD OF SELF." Tonstain stepped nearer to her, his keen eyes level with her own. " All this is true. Yet the glory of his manhood is half gone. He lives at disadvantage with his fellow-men. Smooth tones may deceive his ear for he cannot now, as heretofore, compare look with utterance, or pierce, as he was wont to do, a man's soul with his gaze." "What would you have me do? You think he is content no longer? " " Aye, content with what is his for lack of more." " Nay, he is happy ! No morning breaks but he would have me know it." "Aye," Tonstain said musingly. "Love goes for much with my lord Count. And herein perhaps lies the hardness of your choice, Lady Gundred." " Then give the question words, lest I tear it from your throat ! " she cried out in a sudden violence. He shifted back his sleeves, and with one hand clutched her by the wrist. " Lady, will you give back my lord his sight? " " What ! " the colour ebbed and left her greyly pale. " But no, it is not possible ! " He said no word, and she still looked at him, growing drawn with doubt. " Tonstain, why will you ever play upon my heartstrings why try me with surmise ? That " she could not bring herself to name it "lies be- yond mortal power." "THE CHORD OF SELF." 221 " Not so. The Count's wound is healed, and but now I touched the closed lids, and " " He can see ? " it was a scream stifled in her veil ; then flinging wide its folds, as if for air, she bent forward to search the man's face. " No nor ever will, should you forbid it," he answered slowly. A little wind arose and piped its own requiem in the crevices of ancient stone, then died away in silence. " See, lady," Tonstain drew a phial from his breast ; " I have here a wondrous balsam, which, laid upon his eyes, will cleanse them free from evil humours. His closed eyelids, gaining power, will open once again and he behold the sweet light of the sun." Gundred leant upon the parapet, holding her clenched hands to her breast as her heart leapt and dropt. She tried to breathe but could not ; a tu- mult of anguish shook her as she stood. " Karadac ! " she gasped. Karadac, who was to gain sight again ! For him the glory, but for her a doom. " He must never see me ! " she said again. It was not what she would have said, but the overpowering thought sprang first upon her lips. In forecasting her day of judgment, she had always held to one strong comfort. When her punish- ment, full-armed and pitiless, came to crush her down, it would lack one supreme terror. Karadac never could behold her as she was, the face he 222 " THE CHORD OF SELF." hated in earlier days would be hidden from him. He could not compare her any more with Algitha, nor set a fresh edge on his repulsion and his anger at the sight. This sole rock in the chaos of future misery was all she had to cling to. And now be- hold it gone ! " Speak but one word, lady " Tonstain was at her side ; " what is your will ? The Count himself knows naught of this. The good news is yours to do with as you please. Bid me be silent." She raised a look of wild appeal upon him. " I brought this remedy with me," he went on in his even tones, " from a far-distant land, and never- more can find its like again. Yet at your command I will fling it far into the sea, and you shall keep your lord happy in his blindness till he dies." The mad struggle in her broke out in wild insen- sate words. " You would not dare to give my lord his sight ! Remember all for you have had a hand and part in all. No ! you would not dare to open those closed eyes, for that would be your doom. Is there any dungeon deep enough in Mont Orgueil to hold the vassal who so betrayed his liege ? " She flung the threat at him, exulting in his power. " Where you lead, lady, I shall not fear to follow." She wrung her hands. " You told me at Gros-Nez that he would never see aijain." "THE CHORD OF SELF" 223 "And, as Heaven hears me, I swear to you I so believed." " But now but now " "A happy chance has fallen which never could be looked for." She knelt crouching by the battlements, then sprang upon her feet with a strange cry. " Let me not pray, sweet Mother, let me not pray ! Tonstain, by my wild prayer I brought this curse on him I loved. I could find it in my black heart to pray now and fix it upon him till he dies so I hold him still." " And this is woman's love ! " said Tonstain to himself. Gundred faced him again, and he saw a change pass upon her. " Aye, now I understand you, Tonstain ! You will win my lord's forgiveness for the past by this new gift of sight. To-day will pay for yesterday. Ah, crafty Tonstain, you have secured yourself ! " He pursed his lips with a thin rapid smile, as one who scarce rebuts a flattering accusation. "And I where shall I go to hide myself?" she wailed. " Lady, the die is not cast, the last word is not said;" Tonstain's cold eyes pried at her: "the issue lies still with you. Choose for your lord sight or blindness." " He is happy in his darkness," she moaned, " but when his eyes are opened to the truth " 224 "THE CHORD OF SELF." " He will scarce thank us from his sore heart." A long silence fell. The sun lay on the far black rim of the sea-marshes, crying fen-birds followed the ebbing tide, and Tonstain waited curiously. " Why not leave him to his dreams ? " Tonstain said at last. " He will merge all his high gifts of manhood in pure love your love, Lady Gundred." She felt the stab love which would deny the light of Heaven to its beloved ! Tonstain raised his hand as if to throw the phial ; his eye sought hers, waiting upon her order. She stood fascinated, frowning, then she sprang upon him. "No, no, no! I love him! Give my lord sight ! " Tonstain yielded, reluctantly as it seemed. " Think again, lady. If we could keep him as he is for many days, he would be so won upon that even when knowledge dawned he could not choose but love you. Already he has forgotten why you once displeased him. And, so blended is your voice with the fond image he adores that give me your pardon, lady unless with his actual eyes he sees again, his mind can nevermore divorce the two. So will he forgive." It was the tempter's strongest reasoning, and it found for one swift instant an echo in her thought. She saw as in a dream the smoky trails of cloud drag slowly across the half-disc of the sun. A wind blew over from the daily-chilling sea, and in the moment she gave herself for Karadac. "THE CHORD OF SELF." 225 "Go, Tonstain," she cried out, " go, and delay not ! Give my lord his sight ! He will open his eyes upon treachery in those he trusted, but he will possess himself again ! He will be the Karadac he was, and in the sense of new-found liberty and power I pray he may find comfort for his sorrow. I go to-night to my father's house : there he can find me ready to bear the penalty of my guilt towards him." Her sad dignity touched the man at last. "Stay, lady, the end cannot be yet. For many days my lord Count must be blindfolded to ensure the due working of the balsam. And lest it fail we two will keep his secret close. Karadac, or I know him little, will also himself desire to hold his restoration secret until it be assured. You must be with him, he will need you " " But when the time comes you will warn me ? " she pleaded. " You will let me go before he sees me!" Long she stood there alone. Clouds gathered overhead and about the old walls the desolate even- ing closed down with winds from the raving sea. BOOK IV. LOVE'S VICTORY. CHAPTER I. ALGITHA. IT was a November day and sunny as a happy memory. Throughout the Castle it was said the Count ailed, but on the word some looked askance at Gundred and her counsellor, Tonstain, sieur de Grouville. For though Karadac had ever taken little pleasure in common converse with his kind, yet he had ful- filled the claims upon him as judge and leader, over- lord and friend, moving amongst his lieges, silent often yet ever a felt presence. But since his marriage Gundred and Tonstain stood between him and his world. Scarce had his people seen his face, and only some few had won speech with him in Mont Orgueil, when lo ! the curtain fell again, hiding him from all saving those two who had deceived him, and worked on him still, adding blindness of mind to that which Heaven had sent him. In a square chamber high above the pleasance Karadac lay immured, so rumour had it, and some would wander on the mounded grasses mid the briers and rose-twigs gazing upwards, but only saw the narrow window dark with drapery, and none could learn how the Count fared within. 2 3 o ALGITHA. November wore away, the autumn storms passed from the land, and second summer reigned, a pale and still reflection of the first, with faded hues and memories for hopes. But though the sun shone and mild airs breathed, the Count remained hidden behind the drapery and grey walls. If his seig- neurs wished to approach him, they were bidden to await his health or to make known their wishes to those two who alone had access to the darkened chamber. Thus suspicion grew. Gundred, the questioning eyes upon her, passed to and fro as though she saw not, with an unviolated majesty of mien. She stood in the County's name before his people, and would uphold him to the last. Not that she forgot. When Karadac bade them look upon her loveliness at the marriage-feast, she thought the blow must kill the sense of shame in her, but alas ! she found shame cannot die. So shame by anguished transmutation became her re- ligion, the one feeling left her on which she based her self-respect. About this time Goyault journeyed to Gouray, his wife with him, having intent to cross to Nor- mandy, to lay his sword at William's feet. Algitha was gay ; her fear had passed from her. She heard with secret joy that the Count could not receive her or Goyault. So would she be spared another stinging memory. To-morrow, only to- morrow would the day never dawn that was to bear her from the place where she had known bit- ALGITHA. 231 terness and a growing dread ! Their boats lay at harbour in the horse-shoe bay the sea had bitten from the flank of Gouray cliff. The idle hours passed in stiff constraint where Gundred with her women worked at the broad frames of tapestry. And Algitha tired, for she was restless with happiness and the hope of leaving Gersay. The tide was up, and she could hear the play of water on the rocks below the Castle, and the sound wooed her. She longed to go and see the boat with the tall prow dancing on the gentle heave, the boat that soon should carry her far from these hated scenes. " Lady Gundred, I would fain walk in the pleas- ance, for the air is sweet ; " she spoke at last.- Gundred rose. To Algitha she showed a full ob- servance and cold ceremony that lacked nothing save only kindness. " I will lead you thither. Or would you mount to the tower, lady, whence we can see the coasts of Normandy ? " But Algitha preferred the pleasance, and there the two women walked together and talked awhile, and Algitha longed to be alone, to think her own thoughts and savour of the coming freedom. But Gundred lingered, and their voices floated up to a curtained window overhead, and reached the ear of one vexed with the slow passage of the hours, who felt each day ache as another shackle on long-loaded limbs. 233 ALGITHA. Gundred believed her lord half-dreamed through- out this period of dark suspense and waiting. He hid his thoughts from her because he loved her so, and would not grieve her by a knowledge of the fierce impatience which racked him in his gloom. She would leave him in the curtained canopy of his bed, and little guessed how he listened for her last footfall, to rise and range the walls like some trapped beast. To and fro, and to and fro, yearn- ing with a frenzied love for his first look on that fair face that lived and burned within his smitten eyes. He had borne his darkness better when he be- lieved that it would last for ever. With the earliest gleam of hope the fret and jar of this disquietude arose. To see her, his own Algitha ! to join the vision of her beauty to all things else he loved in her to watch the still gaze of the picture thrill and flush and move in life ! Expectation maddened him. He who had been a law unto himself was now blown about by every breeze of fancy and of hope. He grasped at that which was already his with eager hands and waited for his dawn to come. Gundred's presence (which he deemed Algitha's) but added to his torment. Self-control was gone, he trembled lest in some ungoverned moment he should tear the wrappings from his eyes and look upon her, although Tonstain had given him warning that without due patience restoration might be ALGITHA. 233 foiled. Yet there were times, the fever of his thoughts and expectation rising high within him, he could have bartered all the future for one look ! On that same morning Tonstain bade him open wide his eyes upon the shadowed chamber walls and see once more. And Karadac, with a cold sudden hand of fear upon him, scarce dared to raise his eyelids, lest after all the curse still rested on them. But Tonstain's face, first dim upon the dark, grew slowly clearer to his vision. Oh, glory of lost sight restored ! A rush of godlike life stormed through him a new earth and a new heaven were his ! Then Tonstain turned aside and smiled a little cruel smile, for with that shout of elemental joy mingled the one name Algitha ! " Nay, be calm, lord Count ; " Tonstain's hand was on him. " Two further days of patience, that is all. Have you not waited many weeks and months? Two days what are they ?" " Hell hell hell ! To know her at my side and not behold her ! " " Two days no more," Tonstain repeated, add- ing to himself : " And by that time we shall be rid of Goyault and his witch-wife. Thus it may be the Count's eyes, lacking the face they crave for, may rest content with that which Fate accords them. Life is a makeshift at the best." So he left Karadac. And the Count, still panting, palpitating, lay long as in a trance, his bandaged face turned to the wall. 234 ALGITHA. Across the lull of joy floated the sound of wo- men's voices, and Karadac seemed to wake as one awakes upon a summer day at the soft patter of warm rain. He raised himself to listen, trembling. For it was her voice ! He got upon his feet, blindfold as he was, and grouped his way along the wall towards the shrouded window, and there, leaning against the edges of the curtain, felt only that he heard. First an unknown voice, sweet and clear as if drawn from a thin silver harpstring. A little pause, and then the voice he loved, his Algitha's, su- preme in this allurement as in all others ! Tuned to a deeper note than most, rich, heart- searching, with a slow delicate cadence in her speech that ever won upon him passionately. How often had he lain in their early days of love, unheeding of her words but thrilled to the quick as now with its strange music ! Back and forth the women walked, and each re- current echo of his wife's voice struck an ascending note in the Count's perfervid mood. Algitha ! One look, just one look upon that breathing loveliness! Tumultuous feeling raged in him. He was a man whom love had shaken from the long control of years. See her? he must see her, if but to gain for himself some small measure of calm for that ultimate moment when they two should gaze into each other's eyes for the first time. ALGITHA. 235 He pressed his brows against the cool stone wall. He could not be patient while love called to him in that dear voice across the bounds of sight. Again the soft murmur of her tones rose faintly on the air, and silence followed. What had the chance passed by him while he lingered with a foolish fear? He tore the band- age from his eyes and pushed aside the curtain. A pale blur of light suffused filled all his aching vision, then darkness, and again a glowing light till the autumn landscape lay outspread before him. Green hillsides crowned in trees, and a sky of soft- ened blue that arched to meet them. Over all the light of heaven itself. Oh, most blessed light of heaven ! He saw. 'Twas life regained, for surely in a day when all the pleasures were those of sight, of battle and the chase and smiling eyes, blindness made a living death. O God, what it was to grasp at his full manhood once again ! A song climbed up to him in the tower a little broken song ; he scarcely heard it ere it died away. And he leaned forth to it with a leaping heart. The whole pleasance below, rimmed in grey walls, was all afloat with sunshine, a gentle sun- shine that gave back to ragged rose-briers and fad- ing grasses a kindly counterfeit bloom. And then a figure swam into his view while Karadac caught at the cold lintels with each hand. Again his sight grew dim, she seemed far off. But 236 ALGITHA. as his swinging blood slowed by degrees she was given to his eyes for the first time living Algitha ! He could not see her face, but the long golden hair which fell around her and the tall symmetry of her shape lived in his memory. She stood be- side the crenelated wall and seemed to gaze idly on the hillside, and all about her that waving wealth of gold. Now the wind would catch a tress and blow its edges into golden feathers against the light, or again a passing gust press it like a garment round her slender form. Algitha was happy he could read it in her move- ments. And he noted that she wore a rich dress of English broidery and gold-work : was it not to greet his eyes with ? A well of promise was that down-bent head with its flowing gold. Again she sang a broken line of song, a merry song of the season when winter touches hands with spring. Tears rose painfully to the man's eyes. Algitha was glad because new hope was come to him. And then the radiant vision moved, like a child in an hour of aimless happiness, about the pleas- ance. A light veil such as Norman ladies were wont to wear floated about her and clouded her fair face, but Karadac saw the jewelled hands white as God's snow oh, blest hands and beautiful, that he had kissed and worshipped in his darkness ! Never had Algitha looked more fair than on that day, and presently, as Heaven would have it, a ALGITHA. 237 wood pigeon flew by her with shrill wing, passing close, then soared high above the tower whence the Count watched. Algitha stopped and turned her face to follow its swift flight. The snowy throat, blue eyes upraised, and flushing cheeks pierced him with their beauty, but above all in that keen mo- ment he adored the red lips parted in a tender smile of joy. Algitha saw not him but the bird only, while he murmured : " My wife ! O thou good God ! " A winded horn upon the hills broke up the mo- ment. Algitha turned away to look at hunters is- suing from the wood upon the opposing ridge. Goyault had ridden with them, and, rejoicing at his return, she left the pleasance, for she would meet him on the causeway as he climbed. " She comes to me ! " The Count had long for- gotten all save that he must meet her, surprise her as she came. His chamber opened on a winding stair, whence 4 door led to the causeway. Here was a flat corner space with two wide steps cut in the living rock. Karadac, withdrawn into the shadow of the door, Waited for her his wife ! Oh, the long dreams, and here was now fulfilment ! Face to face at last, slaking the thirst of half a lifetime in those sunny eyes. A light footstep and a note of song. Karadac stepped back to watch her as she came. Slowly she stepped downwards, now poised upon 238 ALGITHA. a stone, now gazing out upon the spreading sea. Radiant as a vision, with blue eyes alight and the wind's blush upon her face. The Count waited, filled with wonder and a mad- ness of delight. Nearer she drew and nearer, all unconscious of his eyes. Nearer and more beautiful ! She was come at last ! And he leaped out and caught her in his longing arms, and held her close, drowned in a sea of love. " Algitha, my Algitha ! " his lips were on her hair. Holding her in the hollow of one arm, he raised her face. Algitha ? blanched white and gazing up at him with blue eyes wide in a fixed stare of horror, her tense hands pressed against his breast in wild re- sistance. Thus they stood a full moment long. And thus Gundred came upon them. Leaning against the angle of the wall, her rich robes trailed about her, she read the consummation of her trag- edy, and theirs. CHAPTER II. GUNDRED. ALGITHA broke from him and fled down the causeway, crying on Goyault. Goyault ? the name echoed like a madness in the Count's ears. Algitha, his wife, all warm white and living gold, a fugitive from his arms and calling on Goyault ! A thousand wild old tales of love and treachery flooded upon him in that instant's space. " Hasten, my lord Count, they will escape for France! He knew not who spoke, but yet he lingered stunned. And the while Algitha ran on through the court- yard and under the raised portcullis to the outer gate, which at the moment stood open for the hunters' coming. First of the horsemen on the slope of hill rode Goyault, spurring forward when he saw that flying figure run from the dark Castle mouth to meet him. For this he knew must be a presage that the worst was come. " He sees, he sees ! " she shrieked, and caught at 240 GUNDRED. his hand : " his great black eyes are open, and he sees ! " "The Count?" " Aye, and there is death within them ! Let us fly, Goyault. Oh, take me where nevermore he can look upon me in fierce love ! " " Christ's curse upon him ! " Goyault was aflame. " Give me your hand ! " and so swung her on his saddlebow and wheeled his horse, scattering those behind him as he galloped down the slippery dips of sward, heading for the bay. " We will win yet for France, the boats lie ready," he said, for Algitha, shaken with a host of superstitious fears, was sobbing on his breast. " Where did he find you, Algitha? " " He leapt out upon me as I came to meet you, and caught me in his arms and kissed me. Hasten, Goyault, for if we see his face again, we die!" " Kissed you in his arms ? A hundred blasting plagues seize on him ! " A kiss had broken long years' friendship and kindled long years' hate ! Trumpets rang out upon the battlements, and a great shouting. For when the men-at-arms loitering in the courtyard saw their lord stride down amongst them as of old, with eyes afire and voice as ringing in its stark commands, they burst forth, giving tongue like joyous hounds. It was naught to them how he had grasped his lost powers and his leader- GUNDRED. 241 ship again, or broken from the thrall imposed by Gundred and her crafty counsellor. What of all -such things, since they had refound their captain ? So they shouted, and the shouting came even to Goyault where his horse with its double burden slid and stumbled down the bents towards the shore. Pity was all thrust out of the young knight's heart, and Karadac appeared no more the blind Count to whom he owed a vast allegiance, but a rival snatching at his heel to overthrow him. Oh, that he could ride back and fling a challenge to the death ! But Algitha clung about him. No, she must be saved ! Out of his own hot hate he judged of Karadac, and spurred on. At right angles stream- ing over the rugged cliffs below the curtain wall of the Castle he could see already lines or men-at-arms clambering down to intercept him by the waterside. Goyault struggled onwards, curbing his horse with skill, for he saw by the ripples on the bay that the wind was fair, blowing from the heights of Fal- douet. " If we can win the boat " he muttered, and then : " Cheer thee, sweetheart, we must escape ! " Now there was in Karadac's following one Mau- ger, a short, bow-legged, hairy fighter, dull of heart and brain, slow of all speech, but strong and swift as a forest wolf. This man led the party by a fur- long, bellowing as he ran. The distance between him and the shore wa but a third of that which Goyault had to cover, but Goyault so urged his 242 GUNDRED. charger, a high and thorny-tempered beast, that they came upon the sands together. " Back, hog, why should I slaughter you ! " cried Goyault. But Mauger slung out his weapon bellowing but the louder, and surged on. " Algitha, clasp tight your arms about me, and fear naught," said Goyault, and rode down upon his foe, his hunter's spear in charge. Mauger waited for him, dropping on his knee, and, as the horse swerved, lunged with an uncouth word. But horse and rider, used to each other on many a long-fought field, leaped beyond the stroke, yet turned within a footspace, and while the hot taunt lingered on Mauger' s lips Goyault's spear struck him between the eyes. So Mauger died before he fell. But now Goyault knew it was too late to win the boats, for others crowding down upon the beach cut him off from all escape by sea. Seeing this, he called aloud to those of his own people who were near at hand to hinder the pur- suers, and so turned his rein along the yellow sands of Grouville. The clash and clamour of the fighting died be- hind them as they rode. The south wind, wafting its soft breath across their faces, and the level lights of evening, spoke of peace, but in the breast of Goyault was fury and red rage. For sake of safety he must leave the track beside the shore, but on GUNDRED. 243 the one side the broken forest ravaged by the sea showed openings only where the trees stood deep in swamp or narrow estuaries crept through treach- erous ground and under slanted trunks whose roots were rotting in the brine. On the left the distant sea, too far for hope, beyond long miles of flats half sand and half morass. Goyault pressed on, and Algitha, clinging to him, watched the red pools and slimy beds of sea-grass sliding by. Here lay a great tree-stem prone with living mosses on its tilted root, but its branches dipped from sight, sucked down beneath the hun- gry sand. And some were overgrown with ocean weeds and some grey-scabbed with limpets. Gazing upon them she bethought her half-shudderingly of the tales men told about this mighty forest once fringing Gouray's coasts and stretching to the mainland, that in some horrible tempest of the past had sunk to meet the sea. Again a shouting rose, but a bend of woodland hid them for the moment from all view, and Goyault, seeing a little stream that wound away into a depth of tumbled thicket, veered from the track and rode along its shallows, pushing on and up to where a rising cliff cloaked with a growth of forest stopped escape. What matter ? It was pos- sible that they had found a hiding-place where they might lie until the heat of Karadac's pursuit had died away. Strained heart to heart they two listened as the 244 GUNDRED. outcry grew, then faded in the distance. Love reigned between them in that hour, the mutual love that welcomes danger which only draws two closer in its bonds. Algitha's lips sought Goyault's as she whispered tremulously : " I think he seeks to slay you, love of mine ! Where shall we find a refuge ? " " Let me but win into my own Castle of Gros- Nez ! who shall touch you there? And I will send out a swift boat to Jean of Jobourg ; he will defend my cause and yours before the Duke," an- swered Goyault. " Rest here awhile, we cannot leave our shelter until night has fallen, but oh, dear heart, this seems a sad forthcoming of our love ! How may you bear the hardships of a siege ? Karadac will hold us strait within Gros-Nez unless our boats can succour us, but I half misdoubt they all lie captive in the bay of Gouray, for the Count's wrath is deadly swift and deadly sure." But Algitha comforted him. " What matters it so long as we two are together, Goyault ? Be cheered : I fear nothing in your arms. Do you remember how we met in Grenezay, and loved, and wed, though your black Count would fain have had it otherwise ? Do you remember how you climbed up to my window that sweet night when first we kissed ? Who can take those memories from us? Not even your great Karadac ! Is he so great? I would not believe so, since here is one weak woman he could not win to love him ! " GUNDRED. 245 So Goyault smiled through his dark mood, and held his arms about her tenderly and swore that never man before had such a wife, brave, sweet and beautiful, as was his Algitha. So they abode hidden within their forest cover, happy enough, God wot ! and hopeful, for love can colour all things through the eyes which look upon them, until the early autumn darkness stole on and found them in their hiding-place. Then Goyault lifted his wife upon his charger and so led him by the bridle, following trackless ways towards the hills. There mounted and rode on with caution through the night. So they passed in safety until the dawn peaked yellow-pale over a hilltop as if to watch on their escape, a sly false dawn, that peered upon them and faded back to dusk again. A chill mist fell after, but Algitha, although the passing light had shown her pallid as the dawn itself, still wore her gayest humour and feigned to be untired. "The way is long, dear wife, and I must make it longer fetching a compass by the south," he said. " So would I have it," she replied ; " do we not ride together? " " It is toward the north that Karadac will set his chiefest watch to intercept us. So will we approach Gros-Nez by way of St. Ouen's, where amongst the wild sandhills and the dunes men may wander and so lose themselves, for each is like the other. Look about us as we climb the hollow." 246 GUNDRED. It was a land of desolation, no trees and scarce a bush, naught but the rounded peaks of small smooth hills, and out of sight the thunder of the surf on a long beach of sand. Still they wound on, now in, now out, till Algitha spoke a half question. " Aye, Algitha, I know them every one almost as well as I know the tints of rose and snow on thy dear face," he answered laughing. So they reached a sheltered opening in the dunes, and beneath them the great pool of St. Ouen stirring in the dawn wind, a great wild-eyed pool, bushed with coarse reeds and yet not smitten by the eastern lights. As they stood a moment, from the rough bent at their feet something moved towards them, crawling like a beast upon the ground. Neither saw it till a shaggy head rose up beside the bridle rein, and Goyault's quick hand was stayed upon his spear. "Gilles?" " Aye, seigneur, I waited here, knowing the path that you would choose, for one came to warn us at Gros-Nez four hours past. Come, let us go, for it is said that the great Count with all his following has started forth to lay siege upon the Castle." Goyault rode on through the green cups of the downs. He longed to hear the clanging of his own gates fallen to behind him and his wife. Yet he wondered how it would feel to be besieged, for GUNDRED. 247 he had always been besieger. A little while he would abide with Algitha on those high battle- ments, thereafter picturing to himself the night sally and the free sail set for Normandy. Strong life, hot blood, and love within his arms. But as they came upon the open moorland by Gros-Nez, they saw the hollows whitened as though some monstrous flight of gulls had pitched upon their barrenness. Goyault looked. " Karadac's camp ! " he groaned ; " how may we enter now ? " On the farther side Gros-Nez rose black, cold, high, fantastic, against a cavernous sea of sunless deep blue. " Have you forgot the postern by the peak ? 'Tis hazardous, but " the peasant paused. But Goyault whispered, "Come," and plunged into the trees as a woman rode out from the forest depths alone. Cold, black, high, fantastic as some giant's dwell- ing in a dream, so the Castle seemed to Gundred also. Below it by his tent the Count's banner was a-flutter in the breeze. All the west yawned darkly blue, mysterious ; it might have been an hour of forces not of earth, a moving of old-world noises from the deepset caverns of the cliffs. Dim and vast and dreamlike : so lay the scene, and Gundred felt its power. Under a peaked pa- vilion, Karadac lay sleeping, or, more like, awake and brooding over the strange treachery of her he deemed his wife Algitha. 248 GUNDRED. For none had dared to face his cold black anger with the truth. Therefore Gundred urged her horse across the thick grasses, and slipped from it where a sentinel stood out across her path. " Lead me to the Count," she faltered. The fellow scowled. " Aye, if it be his will," he answered roughly. But one came and led her straightway to the tent. Karadac stood gaunt within, a rushlight flicker- ing on his face. Dark and haggard he looked, Sorrow's son, begot of Wrath in some supremest hour. " What would you, lady? " he said gently. Gundred found no speech to tell him. Where could she begin a tale so wildly infamous ? " Lady, speak on. You, I think were once my friend." He spoke again in a low voice. " Would you plead for them ? " She clasped her hands together in a desperate travail to bring forth words. Never in all his life had Karadac looked so kindly on her. His sorrow stirred him to strange memories. He bent for- ward. " Lady, I do bethink me of a day long past. Will you forgive ? " But Gundred flung herself upon her knees, and stretching forth her hands she cried : " Forgive forgive ! Is there forgiveness upon earth ? Karadac, Algitha is not your wife. You have been deceived " GUNDRED. 249 His dumb gaze was upon her, and as if by some command she drew herself upwards to her feet, meeting his eyes, yet drawing back, her hand upon her breast. Those soft full tones, the dear and haunting cadence of that speech ! Karadac stared upon her as one might gaze upon the risen dead, then as the truth came home to him, a word, full of all meaning of all woe and all reproach since the world began, fell from him. " You ? " CHAPTER III. KARADAC. " YOU ! " A little word, but unmeasured in its meaning. It carried the old cold mislike churned with an awful scorn and loathing. Gundred felt the ice-flame of it scorch her from head to foot. She made no appeal ; the wrong done was past appeal. Only long after did Karadac recall her heart-stricken face, and vainly grieve for its des- pair. She turned from him trembling and groping for the door, and so passed out into the dawning with her dumb sorrow. But a step or two without she stumbled and fell swooning across the thresh- old of the tent. She was gone ! For the instant he breathed re- lief. Then the full knowledge of himself, not the self who but that morning lay tranced in happy dreams, but the strange self which stood before the gaze of all the world came on him, a self he wotted nothing of, Gundred's husband, babbling in public of his Algitha, the mock of fools ! Deceived, dishonoured, shamed for evermore ! KARADAC. 251 He fell as a man falls from a great height into some deadly depth of water unawares, the chill rush roaring in his ears, his mind agasp for breath in tumbling chaos. Two thoughts he snatched at. Gundred at length had spoken truth, her voice a warrant not to be denied. And Goyault how had they worked their falsehoods to this issue ? What part played Algitha in that cruel jugglery ? The Count wrenched himself free from all the tangle of his suffering, and turned to anger with a sense of easement. Time enough to think out the woven meshes of deceit and guilt when Gros-Nez was his own. So he strode forth to view the Castle, bringing the force of his dark genius to bear upon the siege. But close to the falling folds of his pavilion a dark figure lay across his path, and one with a lan- tern bending over it : Gundred as a dead woman without sense or life, and Tonstain by her. Kara- dac drew back a pace. These two had been to- gether with him in his blindness suspicion rose to sheer repulsion in his throat. " Who is this lady, sieur de Grouville ? " the Count's voice was harder than its wont. Then Tonstain understood that all was told and known. "The Lady Gundred is your wife, my lord Count." " Yet only now have you called her by that 252 KARADAC. name, Tonstain. How is it that you have tricked my ear through all these weeks ? " Tonstain drew himself upright. His dignity of mien was unabated under Karadac's accusing frown. "All all that has been was for your health's sake, lord Count. If wrong was done you, 'twas to save your life." " Then would God that I had died ! " It was the only bitter cry man ever heard on Karadac's lips. Henceforth he bore himself in silent cold- ness. But the words passed through Gundred's waken- ing senses to her heart. " Hear me, lord Karadac," began Tonstain. " Nay, no need, I have heard all," the Count said. "Take my lady to some place of safety and good shelter ; send for her women, and see that she has all tendance and observation fitting her estate. You, sieur de Grouville, doubtless know her wishes ; see that all be done as she desires." " I have important tidings for your ear, seigneur." " There is no urgence that may not wait my lady's pleasure. Go, and return." ******** The morning broke with blustering winds and rain, and birds came crying over from the storm- tossed sea, but wheeled away at sight of men who moved upon the lonely down. For war and morn- ing came together. The smitten ring of bow- KARADAC. 253 strings, the hissing of the heavy bolts that, sweep- ing high above the battlements, fell on those within : the hoarse voice of the besiegers, the answering shouts from Goyault's men : the crash of falling stones : the dull wet wink of arms when a gleam of sunlight shot athwart a torn wrack of cloud. The besiegers harassed the Castle, yet none pressed home the fight, though there were wounds, and blood upon the grass, and dying men, until at noon the great assault was made. Goyault, in the furious joy of battle, moved amongst his men, glad as he had not been for many days. He was well assured that they could keep the foe wearing out his heart under their grey walls until some happy chance of escape by sea should offer. But he had not seen a little band, with Tonstain heading it, creep from the camp before the dawn and wind away to hide itself among the mossy scoops and rifts that rib the cliffs to southward. How Goyault had carried off his wife and how won into the Castle before the mounted knights and men led by the Count in swift pursuit had reached Gros-Nez, none could guess though all had wondered, and in truth admired. But a spy who came to Tonstain in the evening hour told of a horse full caparisoned hid in a hut among the sand- hills of St. Ouen. And, as luck would have it, Gun- dred by chance supplied the missing clue. Tonstain put a question, which she roused herself to answer. 254 KARADAC. Aye, she had seen them, Algitha and Goyault, ride through the trees as she herself emerged from out them. Later, they were stealing towards the cliffs. "The cliffs?" said Tonstain, with a wrinkle in his brow. " If I can give my lord naught else, let me give him his revenge ! " Gundred said bitterly. " For once I mind me that I saw a little postern door shut in the folding of the rock nigh water-mark under the peak of Gros-Nez, and there were traces of a perilous path from ledge to ledge and under hang- ing heights a place of deadly peril, but by that path Goyault has led his wife to safety." " Safety ? No, lady, for I go to pluck them from their nest." Thus, while fresh men were pouring from outlying districts into camp and joining in the fray, while Karadac had run the gauntlet of lance-windows with their showering arrows to strike the gate with armoured hand and call for swift surrender, Ton- stain and his men gained the forgotten little postern by the tide-lip, and, entering the Castle, crept up to where Algitha waited with her maidens. And Algitha, before she knew, was prisoner, for all had been so subtly planned, so quickly done, so deadly sure, that not a fugitive nay, not a cry betrayed the stealing enemy. Then Tonstain, with a handful of his following, went forth upon the walls and shouted for Goyault. KARADAC. 255 And those who pressed the siege without heard and drove on with hope renewed. The while Goyault, a sudden pallor on his cheek, bade his men strike and spare not. " Hold, Goyault ! As I die, thy wife dies also : " Tonstain raised his hand. And a voice arose from within the tower : " Strike, my lord ! Strike, Goyault ! What is my life to be compared with victory? Strike, for I fear not ! " But Goyault groaned aloud, and cast his sword at Tonstain's feet and cursed him where he stood. With ebb of tide rain ceased to fall, but the wind still screamed across the ocean, as the great gates were set wide and the garrison came forth, laying down their arms beside the guard-tower, now held by Karadac's retainers. Algitha, standing within the portcullis, heard the grumbling of the sullen men-at-arms, she caught the malignant glance of the old lean long-armed captain of Gros-Nez, and well she knew that each man cursed her beneath his breath as being the cause of Goyault's quarrel and his conquest. That day's surrender robbed Goyault of much of his renown, and by so much the more was the Count exalted to heights of praise as one invincible. The meed of victory was doubly his, since Goyault faced him as rival both in love and arms. Algitha's proud heart grew hot and sick, but never had she looked more dauntless and more 256 KARADAC. lovely than when she moved to join Goyault as he was led before her, half-mailed and swordless. His head was bare, the blustering winds touched its circling curls, his face was set and he carried himself no longer shamed or broken to the presence of his lord. The blot upon his honour weighed him down no more ; he remembered only the fierce kiss, given though it was in saddest error and with no thought of sin, that still lay unavenged, an outrage on his wife's fair purity. So they two hand in hand approached the or- dered group, where- Karadac stood tall, even to the most careless glance marked out as master of the multitude, a stately figure, fateful-eyed. Round him his knights, and, an ell or two withdrawn, Gundred, whom her lord had bidden to her place as his wife and lady. But alas ! she noted that never once throughout that hour did his face seek hers. He gave her all reverence, but no sign of grace. As Goyault came nearer, Karadac raised his visor and the two looked upon each other. Karadac could have sighed, Goyault forsworn, and yet defiant ! A heavy silence prefaced the coming storm. " Have you aught to say, sieur of Saint Ouen ? " asked the Count coldly. "Aye, much that touches on our case as liege and vassal, and more of that which lies between us man and man," replied Goyault. KARADAC. 257 " Speak on." Goyault had no need to see the visored faces round them, well he knew what hidden smiles were waiting his defence. " My lady Algitha was your guest with me at Mont Orgueil, lord Count : why were we hunted thence like wolves?" the question burst from wrathful lips, which yet omitted not to use di- plomacy. Karadac's expression gave no clue to his recoil nor to how deeply the rude challenge thrust at the sorest point of his deception. " Your flight was the sole issue of your dishonour as a knight and the guile that juggled with my blindness to secure its own designs," he answered calmly. " Had you not been forsworn, what need had ever been to fly, fearing my vengeance ? " This strong statement, unabashed and clear, from one so reticent, called up a warmth towards his cause in every listening knight. How much such words cost him none but Gundred knew: the feel- ing which almost turned him coward on the point, the courage that bade him handle it boldly under men's eyes was comprehended but of few in those rude days. Algitha raised her haughty head. " He fled to save me, lord Count ! " she cried ac- cusingly. " Lady, by one word of truth he had saved you more manfully," Karadac rejoined. 258 KARADAC. " Manfulness do you speak of manfulness ? " she went on. " The noble Count of Gersay wars against women, in good sooth ! You never could have broken through our Castle gates, therefore you must needs use subterfuge. By stratagem and threat of violence to me you forced my lord's sub- mission. I would that he had prized me less, and shamed you by my death through all the world ! " Karadac was bereft of words in listening to her voice. That form, which in his blind fancy he had cherished these long months past, stood now before him, possessed as by some alien spirit. It is hard to think of one whom we have loved and known turned on a sudden to a stranger, to hear dear lips speak in a voice all unfamiliar to the expectant ear. So it was with him. This woman, whose form and flush and beauty imagination had rendered his own possession and daily near to him, was sundered far within one short day's space. These thoughts she uttered were not the thoughts of Algitha as he knew them ; the voice with its silver harpstring tone, was not that which in his blindness had met his questionings and answered his deep vows of love. Algitha's passion flamed up and fell before the silence of the Count. " I await your answer, sieur of Saint Ouen ; " Karadac spoke with effort, turning to Goyault. " A knight forsworn, what have you yet to say ? Here on this heath you laid your hands in mine and swore me fealty, then you went forth with KARADAC. 259 oaths upon your lips to serve me truly, and to hold my honour as your own." " In that indeed I wronged you, Count, but you have since wiped out my fault in one far greater." Karadac gazed at him confounded by the accusa- tion, but the red rose that sprang to Algitha's white cheek enlightened him. " An error that falsehood betrayed me to could never be regarded as offence," he said. " Would you desire me to lay this matter before my knights here present ? " " Nay," said Goyault with a downcast head. " That may pass." " Well, let it pass. But your defence what of your dealings in my name in Grenezay ? " " Nay, that he cannot answer ; " Algitha stood forth again, her blue eyes aflame. " Can he boast that all unawares he won the love of her he battled for so bravely? Hear me, lord Count! I had rather die a hundred dreadful deaths as witch, born upon this earth without a heart to love, than be your wife ! I had long loved my lord Goyault, and with him only would I wed. And he had pity on me!" Proudly she boasted of her love, all rose and gold like some pure morning sky. And in sooth the men who looked upon her for- gave Goyault. It was beyond human power to risk the losing of such loveliness. " Lady, I loved you well ; " Karadac's response 2<5o KARADAC. came low and full of a strange thrill : " but never, as I am knight, had I forced love upon you ! Your lord was long my friend and my companion ; he knew me well. Did he so wrong me in your ears that you should fear to come with him to Gersay and tell me all the truth?" Algitha, at the first word, drew back abashed. And at the last she faltered. " Nay, lord Count, but you were blind that moved him." "Moved him? " repeated Karadac in the same low tone; " moved him, say you ? to treason and to lies? A cruel truth had been the kinder! " The night was blowing up with banking clouds, and Karadac, looking once upon the sky, gave judg- ment. " What have you now to say, sieur Goyault ? " " Nothing ! " said Goyault from between set teeth. " Much has been said my tongue had never spoken ! Naught remains but to hear and bear my punishment." " It is one which should accord with love like yours," Karadac said slowly. " You with your fair wife are banished to the lonely tower in the ocean that lies one long sea-league from Saint Ouen's shore. They say it stood upon a hill before the waters rolled in upon the sunken valleys, before the wind drove in those wastes of sand to choke the corn and cattle on the hills that circle round the bay. It is old and desolate ; none shall dwell there KARADAC. 261 save you twain. At times a boat shall bring you all you need. There live with love." Then Algitha took her lord's hand again, and up- raised that fair face of hers to heaven. " Aye, we counted all the cost, my lord and I, in those sweet hours when first we loved. Gladly do we lose all for love ! There shall we dwell together, he and I, with love alone to help us, alone in utter happiness ! " " I wish you happy, lady, as the years wane. But, hear me, Goyault, the day that you break prison shall be your last ! " " Why should we come forth ? " Algitha cried again. " There shall we possess all in each other, a world within a world ! " CHAPTER IV. GO VAULT. AT evening a little boat crept to the shore and there swung waiting. Under the dulling blue the pool of St. Ouen lay like a moss agate, dusky grey, patterned with reeds. They stopped and looked upon it, then came down hand in hand, lingering like lovers on the winding path, and over the wide sands Goyault and Algitha. The little boat moved out upon a sea of glass and those two, looking westwards, saw their prison black and ruinous against a paling sky. " You are not sad, Algitha ? " She made a little movement towards him. " Never have I been so happy ! But for you, Goyault. How will you bear it ? Tilting and hawking cut off from all a man's delights ! " His arm was round her. " Nay, sweet, I carry with me the chiefest of my delights." Having landed them, the men of Karadac rowed away, and alone they walked across the coarse sea- grasses to their tower, and there alone they dwelt amid the sounding waters while the bleak winter days drew on. GOYAULT. 263 Nor wind nor weather pierced the portion of the ruin that Karadac had prepared for them. Fuel and food had they in abundance and lacked for nothing, save the essential right to live among their kind. The long mornings died into long afternoons, and afternoon's early sea-grey ending saw a few lights twinkle out along the distant curve of shore, and so the long evenings came. Darkness clung in tumult round their dwelling through storm-racked nights ; from week to week the very walls were drenched in spray. So they lived with love alone to help them. At first absorbed in idle-sweet monotony they watched sunrise and sunset and the moon grow up behind the sand dunes. Then by degrees that rich joyousness of life together merged into a vast con- tent. A day marked here and there by some new surprise drawn from further knowledge of each other, which quickened the pulse of love. Thus they lived in exile in their stone prison by the sea. It was Karadac's wont to send to them a boat at intervals, but those who came with it spoke not to the prisoners of the isle. The world went on with- out them, but Goyault, as time flowed, thought more often of his people and his Castle of Gros- Nez. He began to yearn for sight of those tall towers and heavy curving walls and battlements. At night he limned upon the darkness that picture of it which pursued him ever, outlined in burning 264 GOYAULT gold against a stormy evening, as he was wont to see it in those bygone days when he rode home weary and happy after a long day spent with hawk or hound. All this Algitha knew in her heart and was grieved for, but spoke nothing, since there are some sorrows which, once hardened into words, fret the more sorely. But one afternoon of sad dense grey as they two walked the rocks and looked out across the sea-fog for the boat whose time was due, and each felt shamed to hunger for the sight of strangers and strove to hide the wish one from the other, Goyault began to speak ojf the past days, and so told her all the story of Karadac and his blindness, and the long night spent in listening to the falling rain and voices of the storm. And still the boat delayed, until there blew towards them from the land a keen cliff wind and through the clearing air they saw the boat coming, and above it shone a wan young moon. "Another moon, another hour," said Goyault. "And did his moon, the black Count's moon, shine red that night?" " Aye, for I remember how I saw it a red and doomful moon, reflected deep amongst the broken waters of the pool." A long silence hung between them. " I would, sweet, that we two were once more at Gros-Nez," Goyault said at last, and groaned for very GOYAULT 265 longing. " I love the bleak singing of the blast, and every stone that builds my Castle from rock-foot up to tower ! " Algitha laid her head against his shoulder and said the words which she knew Goyault must utter soon or late. " Let us leave this desolation, Goyault. You are too meek in your long yielding to the Count's will. You have forbidden those to help us who yearn to set you back into your rightful place. Let us go hence to France and sue your pardon if pardon in- deed be needed from the Duke. A signal to the shore no more, and we are free ! " "Aye, and that would I do but for the love I bear Gros-Nez. If I broke prison and appealed to Wil- liam, Karadac would pull my towers stone from stone till naught remained but ruins. I cannot, Algitha ! " And no more passed between them till the boat's stem touched the rock and men went to and fro bear- ing provisions to the tower, but silent all. And one stayed in the boat, and upon him in the gloam- ing Algitha came with her beauty and shining eyes, and asked him softly : " What of Gros-Nez, boatman ? Who rules there now my lord is absent ? " And he, not hearing her soft footstep, glanced up and saw the starry eyes and wondrous form, and bethought him of the witch men called her and cried out in fear. 266 GOYAULT. " Avaunt ! Wouldst confound my poor soul also ? Avaunt, thou curse upon this good land of God ! Gros-Nez, good sooth, which was so strong but yes- terday that even Karadac the great Count but won it through a stratagem ! who rules there now ? Nay, I know not, the Evil One no doubt ! For the bats chirp already in the broken corners of the walls, the wild cat nests upon its hearthstones, and the wind cries lonely through its roofless towers. You brought a curse there with you, witch ! " and so crossed himself. Algitha stepped back in silence and watched the boat away again, for now she knew their exile was not long. CHAPTER V. GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. MEANTIME in Gouray life went sadly. Karadac, more silent, more withdrawn, dwelt in a lonely turret, where even on quiet afternoons the wind cried with ceaseless melancholy pipe, the cry which suggests things past even to careless ears. Things past ! there lay the horror and the sting. He was a man bereaved, but with a loss more com- plete than death had ever made it. Robbed alike of past and future, he had naught to hope for, noth- ing to regret. Could he regret or hope again to meet that which had never being? He had desired Love the beautiful, and found it held in his arms a fulfilment of his long dreams of youth and man- hood his wife ! One hour he held her, a warm breathing presence whispering words of love in that dear haunting voice ; the next he knew himself for evermore alone. His Algitha had no existence under heaven. One like to her indeed was Goyault's wife, but that fair woman with the sweet high voice was not she whom he had loved. The long waves had called out a message in those lost summer after- noons to him and her who was his love a message that Goyault's wife could never understand ; the 268 GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. flush and smell of rain new-fallen was a rejoicing to them both ; their souls had thrilled to the same deep wordless touch ; between them had been no need of speech in their most influenced hours. Such was the Love who had been born and who had died mys- teriously in his days of darkness. For behold, when his eyes were opened, he had seen a face like hers but yet despairingly unlike, and found her voice robbed of its linked embodiment, therefore no longer hers. Gundred ! The whole tissue of her falsehood and her wearying love drove from him hopelessly the thought that in her dwelt the soul he had companioned with in those charmed hours. Doubly bereaved by the cruel mockery of a love, since his Algitha for so he called her still was not any liv- ing thing, but a body and a soul divorced one from the other. The monstrous thought weighed on him like some evil dream from which he could not waken. Gundred dwelt also at the Castle, surrounded at her lord's desire by all honour and ceremony befitting her estate. Attired with splendour, moving as a queen, she passed her days fulfilling all the duties which clustered about her as the Count's wife, but ever friendless and apart, carrying her stricken heart hidden from the world. Yet she was not as Karadac, all comfortless ; in her harder moments a secret pride was hers ; all was over now, but Karadac had been her lover and was still her lord. GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. 269 But even this comfort died because of her great love. She shrank from sight of Karadac, but when they met by chance his altering visage smote her with a fresh remorse. She was free to gaze upon him, for that first look in the tent by Gros-Nez had also been the last between them. He passed her with averted eyes, aye, and she had marked a little rounding of the shoulders, as one who dreads a blow, when her voice fell by chance upon his ears. Long nights, short days, and so the darkest of that sad winter wore away. Spring comes early to those blessed islands, kissed into life by the warm lips of the great wandering tropic stream. 'Twas scarcely yet the second month of the new year, but flowers were thrusting upwards through the grass, and buds showed on the wild-rose briers in the pleasance. About this time the austere aspect of the Count grew harsher, and Gundred felt the burden of his hate too heavy to be borne. Her courage failed at last ; she only prayed for some solitary place where she might wear her sorrow openly. Therefore, through Tonstain, she was fain to ask her lord's permission to leave the Castle for a time. But Tonstain, perhaps with a belief that if the two could come at speech again with one another, things might yet go well, so altered the tenor of the mes- sage that Karadac, though openly reluctant, sought the presence of his wife. They met at the door of the chapel, where Gun- dred was now wont to pass long hours, GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. " You have sent for me, lady. What would you ? " She fell back with a smothered cry. " Nay, my lord, I would not so trouble you. Ton- stain carried my request." Her eyes were on the ground, but her voice moved him, first as a sacred memory moves the man, then with an irrational sense of outrage as though Gundred had usurped those tender tones. " What was your request, lady ? " His estranged courtesy made her bold. " I would go to Rozel, my lord, and from thence to the Abbey of St. Michael on the Mount to pray at the sacred shrine. I beseech you let me go, for my life is scarce to be endured ! " " Our lives are oftenest what we make them," he answered harshly. " But go, lady ; your pleasure is my will." " Nay, lord Karadac, " then checked herself, for a darkness gloomed upon his brow and few dared to face that thunderous wrath. " I go. Farewell ! " And so parted. Since her return to Gouray, Gundred had pre- vailed upon Sir Drogo to remain much at his own seigneurie of Rozel, urging that a careless word might ruin all her happiness. Therefore now that she was returned again beneath his roof, he took much note of all her looks and moods, peering at her in his monkey fashion with sad eyes, but gathered little to comfort him therefrom. At length she told htm of her intended pilgrim- GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. 271 age to the Abbey of St. Michael on the Mount. And to that he answered but by a single question. " And when do you return to your lord's side? " " I know not ! " she cried out in a sudden break of bitterness. " Never perchance ! Father, I would dwell with you." Thus it came to pass that the Sieur Drogo de Barantin left his home alone and secretly on a blustering day, but reached Mont Orgueil with half a score of retainers at his back and no small pomp of ceremony. There he clanged loudly on the Castle gate, and demanded audience of the Count of Gersay. Which Karadac accorded him, wonder- ing somewhat, but anxious to show him courtesy that none might find room for evil rendering of Gundred's absence. Drogo raised his visor, and those who stood by saw he was charged with a matter ponderous in his own eyes. " I come hither on behalf of the Lady Gundred," he began, and an irrepressible closing in of eager hearers followed on the words. But here Karadac intervened. " No more, good Drogo, until we two are alone. Since the matter concerns my wife, I will confer with you in private. Sirs, will you leave us." But Drogo, timorous of the Count's harsh mien, clutched at the long sleeve of Tonstain as he passed. " Stay then, good Tonstain, I would not be alone with him ! " 272 GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. Which Karadac overheard, and smiling his grim smile said " Remain, sieur de Grouville," and in the hus- tling of departing feet he added : " There is little of our most near affairs but you have close know- ledge of ! Has the Lady Gundred sent you, Sir Drogo ? " " Nay, lord Count, your lady is too sorrowful for many words. She knows not of my coming." Drogo met Karadac's frown and was shaken out of all self-complacency. What he would have said he knew not ; the only words that sprang upon his lips shook him with the horror of their echo. " Count Karadac, your wife your wife hath been most villainously wronged ! " " Wronged what mean you ? " Karadac asked sharply. "She has been made unhappy! " gasped Drogo, and stopped. Karadac turned away and paced up the long hall, and Tonstain, whispering into Drogo's ear, said : " Speak openly ; fear nothing." " Has she complained of her unhappiness ? " Karadac swung round. " Is there need of words to those who look on that sad countenance ? She droops and weeps and prays. Those who pray much are seldom happy." Drogo shook his head, approving his own wisdom. " Why is she driven from your side ? " " Nay, she entreated that she might go to the Abbey of St. Michael." GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. 273 " And you said Aye ! " cried out the little knight aghast. " I would fain please her." " Please her? Have you pleased her here where by your neglect she has become the scoff of every scurvy tongue and wanton eye ? And now, for- sooth, you bid her go to the Abbey of St. Michael on the Mount, across those quaking quicksands where ships and live trees are swallowed up ! Have you no care for her who loved you when you scorned her?" Drogo's tongue, once loosed, was hard to check; half-terrified and half-solicitous, he ran on : " She who nursed you back to life, and made herself a sacrifice to fools that you might clasp your fancied Algitha in your fevered arms ? She hath loved you through all this brain-sick folly, for the which they tell me you despise her! Is this your boasted chivalry, lord Count? " " You forget, Sir Drogo, that I was bitterly de- ceived." "Deceived? to take into your arms a noble lady of good Gersay blood instead of one who hath well been called a witch ! " "Silence!" thundered Karadac ; "we have no speech here of any lady but my wife." Drogo sniffed nervously, but the stream of words overflowed again. "Nay, I say nothing ; the Saxon maybe inno- cent, but she has been exiled from the Island," he went on resentfully. " And is my Gundred also to 274 GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. be driven forth as too ill-favoured for her lord's fantasies ! Has she not felt the bitter hurt, think you, nor caught the smile of those who wait upon her, yet know she is despised ? " "What is this you say?" " Nay, hear me out ! You have sent her forth, be it at her own desire or yours, I care not you have sent her forth upon a journey full of strange dangers. Lord Karadac, if you care nothing for her life, have you forgot the life she bears within her the child, your child, which should be born to carry your great name down to generations yet to come ? Would you that too were buried in the wild marshes under Michael's Mount ? " He ceased for lack of breath. And Karadac stood like one stricken before him, only the black eyes searched the wizened monkey- face for proof of this undreamed-of consummation. " My child ! " the Count spoke softly. " Aye, 'tis even so." Karadac moved from them and paced to and fro. "Your child ! " the words rang in his brain. That Algitha whom he had dreamed of in the forest through those happy days of blindness! Algitha his heart leapt at the name and sank again. Algitha and Gundred, the fatal juggle that had left his life defeated ! His child? The thought touched him, but with it came no softening towards Gundred. Yet he yearned for that lost Algitha, pure, GUNDRED'S CHAMPION. 275 young and fair, made all of love and for love, who was, alas ! he knew it, but an empty name. A bitter tide of memories rose up and ebbed. And while he still brooded, Drogo's impatience broke in upon him. " Gundred shall return is it my lord's wish?" The Count stood still. Gundred's return how should he meet her now? How shield her from the contempt that falls upon a wife ill-favoured and un- loved ? How give her due consideration, since he could not alter the manner of his life nor offer to her love ? Stay ! He could not be her lover, but was he not her knight ? A quick glow lit up his dark visage, and Tonstain, marking it, wondered what would come. " Drogo," the Count stepped down to them and laid his hand kindly on the old man's shoulder ; " pray my Lady Gundred to return, for I will pro- claim a tournament whereat I shall uphold my lady's beauty against all comers." Drogo shot out a disappointed lip " And if my lord should fall it will be poor comfort for his widow ! " " Fall?" Karadac laughed aloud, and Tonstain liked ill the echo of that laugh. " Nay, but I must live and conquer for my lady's sake, to prove her uttermost supremacy ! " CHAPTER VI. THE TOWER IN THE SEA. GOYAULT stood upon the blowing sea-grass be- neath the naked tower and watched the long rising swell roll past him to crash in breakers on the bay's circling sands. Algitha had told him nothing yet of the ruin wrought at Gros-Nez, and from their islet they could not see its towers, for between them rose the jagged cliffs of Grande Etaquerel and the uplands running northwards. Daily the monotony of his banishment weighed more heavily upon Goyault. He lived within so circumscribed a world a few tussocks, a naked tower, a rood of weed-grown rock when the tides ebbed lowest nothing more. The wild seabirds that flew above his head vexed him to a quick envy. The gorged cormorants, nodding on outlying reefs and points of crag, were free to come and go, while he alone was chained to his own rock and tower. The evening waned with lonely calls of curlew on the beach, and the voice of water sobbing round his isle. But Goyault's heart was hot within him ; it seemed as though the limit had been reached, he could endure no more. Once on the morning of a winter day, some three weeks gone, had this same rebellion raged within him when he heard a horn THE TOWER IN THE SEA. 277 blowing about the downs, and knew that Karadac was hunting on his lands within the seigneury of St. Ouen. A boat came from the shore that day, but Goyault hid himself and could not look upon the men who knew him to be so fallen. Since then another trouble had been growing on him. For Algitha seemed to fail in their bleak home. Pale and heavy-eyed she moved beside him, answering him with her loving smile, but the smile was wan, and often she was lost in mournful reverie. The sea and sky stretched out to the horizons mocked Goyault. Was he a coward, that for the sake of those grey towers upon a headland waste he thrust away the thought of liberty ! To him came Algitha in the dying lights and found him flung face downwards on the grass, his hands clutched in its wiry stems. She read his mood, the final frenzy of the captive, and raised her eyes to heaven. " One day more, one little day, and then he shall know all," she whispered in her own heart ; and kneeling down she touched him lovingly. He raised himself and drew her down beside him. " Dear heart," he said ; " we must escape. I can- not see the light grow dim in these sweet eyes. And yet Gros-Nez ! " " Goyault," she faltered, " Karadac has wrecked your Castle." He sprang to his feet. 278 THE TOWER IN THE SEA. " When heard you this ? " "A boatman told me, some time past." " What said he ? " She scarcely knew the voice ; it had a tone she could not understand. She rose, too, trembling. " He said some bitter words, Goyault. ' The bats chirp already in the broken corners of the walls, the wildcat nests on its hearthstones, and the wind cries lonely through its roofless towers ! ' ' A bitter sound of cursing followed as Goyault raged in hate against his liege. " My Castle in which my race have dwelt through the long years! Now truly has Karadac left naught undone to shrive me of my oaths. I will go and fling defiance in his face, and pluck forth his cursed life! Come, Algitha, we will build the beacon fire upon the tower. When Gilles or some other of my own people sees the blaze, they will launch out to succour us. Come ! " But Algitha, gone white as death, clung to him. " Not yet, not yet, Goyault give us one more day of safety and of peace! " "A day more or less, what matters? Let us hasten, my revenge can never come too soon ! " Yet Algitha besought him, and, for he still re- fused, with tears. Then Goyault, wrought to a height of rage and bitterness, gazed strangely on her. " I do remember, Algitha, that this accursed Count held you within his arms and kissed you in that embrace ! " THE TOWER IN THE SEA. 279 " Aye, but, my lord, think not of that. Seek him no more, but let us fly to Normandy and lay our suit before the Duke." " Would you save him from my just anger? Did your heart turn traitor in you and lean to him in love upon that kiss ? " Had she made excuse or wasted breath in pro- testations, it may be that the man in the mad spirit of his jealousy, would still have spurned her in unbe- lief, but Algitha, all broken by woe and long anxiety, had no place for pride or womanly resent- ment left in her : only in a quiet of despair she stood before him, her hands dropped by her sides. " Alas, Goyault ! for I have loved you ! " Then in the wild revulsion of his mood, he had her in his arms, pleading for her forgiveness and wasting all his heart in love. " Why have you delayed to tell me this, be- loved ? " " Because I feared," she answered ; " and I have more to tell. But oh, dear lord, I do beseech you here upon my knees, battle not with Karadac ! '' " More to tell what is this further news ? " " The Count has sent forth a challenge unto you and to all knights to meet him in the lists, where he will maintain the beauty of his lady as the fairest fair against whosoever dares dispute it." Goyault threw back his head and laughed out bitterly. " Gundred beautiful Gundred the fairest fair! 280 THE TOWER IN THE SEA. In truth, Karadac has a mean excuse for mighty courage ! Come, let us light the beacon. I cannot disregard a challenge which calls my lady's loveli- ness in question. Gundred the fairest fair ! " He laughed again, till his sadness dropped from him in the glad hope of action. " Not to-night, Goyault." " There is some other reason here,'' he cried im- patiently. " I will hear all and so be done with it. Where have you learned of late to keep this close reserve ? I scarce can find due explanation of it," he spoke in umbrage. " To-morrow the lists are set beneath your own wrecked Castle of Gros-Nez," she answered des- pairingly, " and I am fain to save you." " Fain to save me ? Know you not this en- counter is what I seek ! " " O Goyault, I am afraid for you ! " " Lady mine," he said coldly, " your mind has grown distraught in this lone exile." " No, no but I see a fate in the dark Count's eyes, and I am afraid ! Did I fear for you when you slew Morlaix in Grenezay? Nay! But here is one who communes with the unseen, who wanders lonely by haunted hills, who can call strange powers to his aid. O Goyault, do not go ! " " And be for ever shamed ? Lady, I love you too well to let the challenge pass. Karadac is but a man as I am. To-morrow I will ride out to meet him in the lists and prove it by my lance. I will THE TOWER IN THE SEA. 281 set us free from the shackles that have bound us. Free again Oh, to be once more free ! " With that he turned and climbed to the tower's height, and in the singing sea-breeze built a fire, Algitha helping him. After that was nothing more to do than wait for darkness, which to Goyault seemed never so long delayed. But night settled over all at last. Then from the beacon the flames rose upwards, twisting and leaping clear against a void of gloom. And Goyault, as the answering signal tarried, was full of joyous expectation. " Here will we return no more," he said, " save perchance in some far-off happy time when we sail back to Gersay, then come to look again upon our rock and tower for sweet memory's sake." Night came, and the fire, flaring to full bright- ness, thereafter died slowly down, for they had no fuel more to feed it. Yet none made answer from the shore, and no boat steered through the darkness to their aid. For all the dunes were desolate, the few dwellers there being gone to Gros-Nez to see the barriers built about the lists for the Count's great tourna- ment. Goyault still held to hope, knowing his people's faithfulness ; but the last glow died, and the fire fell together into ashes. Still he waited for release. And there waiting the dawn found him. CHAPTER VII. THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. MANY gathered to the great tournament pro- claimed by the Count of Gersay. For on the main- land in the coast towns lay an idle host, which William of Normandy was slowly drawing to his banner by promises of land and wealth in England. From every quarter of his dominions he exacted men and ships and gold, but the time for invasion was not ripe, therefore Karadac's challenge rang in ready ears. The little bay beneath the Castle of Mont Or- gueil was full of craft, the huts of Gouray stood bright amongst flaunting pennons and on the beach with shout and laughter the knights thrust in their boats to land. Some went forward to pitch their tents overnight upon the field, but the chiefest abode with Karadac in Mont Orgueil. Thence in the spring-scented dense blue morning a lengthened cavalcade wound forth along the northern cliffs to Gros-Nez. A laggard wind puffed in their faces, pennons drooped languorously to the stout ash-handles with scarce a flutter, and only a dull daylight flickered upon the polished Poictiers THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. 283 lance-heads ; spear and shield, sword and lance, borne by squires after their mailed lords. Here rode the mighty knight of Dol, a man of bold eyes and strong sun-coloured face. And here a fair- beard from Provence, a harper, and a singer who wore a favour bound in blue upon his helmet. There also passed Gundred in a litter, curtained from all eyes until she should take the place pre- pared for her beside the lists. No word had passed between her and her lord, who could not forgive her, yet was ready to defend her with his life against the reproaches of a world ! Never had she loved him so utterly as at the moment when they brought her word of that last poignant proof of his deep hurt and noble chivalry. The lists were set beneath the ruined towers of Gros-Nez. But in the warm dense blueness of that cloudy day the wild arcs of sea and sky seemed drawn in close about them. At noon all was pre- pared. Gundred sat on her high chair amongst a bevy of fair and jewelled dames : but one place was empty, the place reserved for Algitha. On that first day it was announced with flourish of trumpet that the Count Karadac would hold the lists against all comers in his lady's name. Therefore at the appointed moment he rode out into the grassy oblong of the course to make good his challenge ; a splendid figure clad in close chain- mail, bearing upon his shield the three leopards of his cognizance, and upon his crest the tall aigrettes 284 THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. of whalebone which proclaimed haut seigneur of a seagirt land. The knight of Dol made first claim to tilt before the brunt of battle wore down the strength and skill of Gersay's famous champion, the which was readily accorded. They faced one the other for a moment west and east, two mighty horsemen, each with lance in rest, then thundered to the shock. A hurtling rush, a crash of arms, and the two combatants swept on, to wheel and meet again. Once more they met, and crashed and passed, but the knight of Dol, mounted upon his huge Flemish steed, though not unseated, rocked in his saddle as a tower that reels, then dropped to earth. And those who bore him from the field needed not to raise the battered visor, knowing that life was gone. Others of less note followed, but, though de- feated and cast down, none suffered the same dire fate. And Karadac's people jested proudly and swore their Count dealt gently with the champions from overseas. So the day waned, and ever between the con- tests, Karadac called to the herald with a question, and ever the herald answered : " Nay, lord, the sieur Goyault comes not yet ; " and at length : " But we have sent a company to seek him." Then Karadac on a fresh steed faced the Proven- THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. 285 $al, a knight reputed matchless in the jousts. But him also the great Count overthrew, yet suffered some slight wounds before he conquered. Thereupon broke forth a storm of shoutings, for Karadac was victor in the lists, and Lady Gundred should be forthwith proclaimed as Queen of Love and Beauty. Then up the length of empty space rode Kara- dac, ill-content, vexed at soul that Goyault was not come in answer to his challenge, for victory was not victory until they two had tried conclusions, man to man. So he rode, and on a sudden, casting his eyes upon the ladies' gallery, saw behind the high chair of Gundred a tall girlish form that stood upright, clad in white and blue, with clouds of golden hair, one who laughed triumphantly across the open lists in pure pride and faith of love, Algitha, her fears all gone. For Goyault, her peerless lord and champion, must surely win. Even at this hour the sight of her half-unnerved the Count. He felt the aching thrill of one who sees a chance resemblance to the loved and lost. And so turned to meet his enemy. Goyault rode out resplendent, tossing his lance, and caracoled lightly forward. " I throw you back your challenge, Count of Ger- say, and uphold my lady Algitha as Queen of Love and Beauty ! " And then as with one action, each raised his 286 THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. visor and looked deep in the other's estranged eyes. Men say who saw him that the Count looked darker and sterner than his wont, the war- light kindling in his scarred eyes and round about his tortured mouth gathering the set of his imperi- ous will. And again the people shouted. It was one of the rare moments when they felt the black Count's heart leap in unison with their own, when an en- lightening gleam, flashing across the perfervid si- lence of his life, showed them at once the man and the leader they had gladly died for. And those about the paling muttered : "The Count's invincible ! " And some, " Remember Morlaix ! " " Saints, how they hate ! " " Aye, so shall we see the stronger blows ! " Goyault reined back towards his starting-point at the eastern end, and up before his eyes loomed his broken castle of Gros-Nez ; rents in its mighty walls and with roofless towers gaping up to heaven. And the unslaked thirst for vengeance rose like a tide within him. Karadac must die ! He gripped hard at the horse between his knees, the same which had carried him with Algitha be- yond pursuit at Gouray. Hidden in a serf's hovel, Gilles had cared for it, watting the escape of Goy- ault from the ocean tower. The signal pealed out. Both champions spurred forward and shocked, but lightly, for Goyault rode THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. 287 with guile and waited on opportunity. Wheeled and shocked again : still Goyault held off from the stress of strong encounter. At length the battle closed, and those who saw it shouted at the strokes. Swift, fierce and deadly, blow on blow. Men said that never was so long a fight, and yet meanwhile a little cloud drifted scarce a handsbreadth in the heavens. At length the end drew on. A moment swept Karadac into the heart of battle. He engulfed Goyault, but ever Goyault leaped from peril. But at the last they rode together with mortal purpose. Karadac bore down full stretch upon his steed, and Goyault met him, shock for shock in huge concus- sion. Goyault's lance drove upon the corselet of the Count and splintered there, while Karadac with a mighty thrust of his great arm sent Goyault reel- ing from his saddle and flung him far. But as the lance broke up within his grasp, Goyault lunged madly with the shattered shaft, and some knife- pointed splinter, jerked aside, drove deep into the groin of Karadac's black charger. It sprang on, thrown by the momentum of its going, then lurched and plunged shoulder first upon the ground, and with his rider rolled over and yet over, and was still. All the field gazed awestruck upon that fall. And already a slow pool of blood was oozing on the grass when with a great cry Gundred broke through the barrier to her lord. 288 THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. Goyault was conquered, and Gundred for her lord's pleasure and in her own despite, called upon the heralds to proclaim him victor. And this was done over the crushed body, and a woman with a breaking heart they named aloud as Queen of Love and Beauty. Yet the title was dear to her even in that hour because her lord had won it. Knights and barons crowded round the uncon- scious figure, all save Goyault, who stood aside, and afterwards with Algitha passed across the heath. And nevermore did Goyault look on Gros-Nez. Tonstain with a gentle hand unbuckled the broken armour of his lord. And Gundred bade them bring her litter, and so they placed him in it, senseless and dark and death-grey, save that his face bore not the peace which comes upon the dead. Thus with slow steps they bore him from the field whereon he had gained glory. Gundred walked beside him, and after they had traversed weary miles Karadac moved and groaned, and Gundred stopped the bearers and bent over him to listen. He lay with closed eyes and murmured : " The lists their memory comes to me. Who conquered, Tonstain ?" And Gundred answered : " My lord was victor. No champion but was over- thrown by his strong arm." He pressed his pale lips together. THE QUEEN OF LOVE AND BEAUTY. 289 " I am glad for your sake, lady. Is Tonstain near ? " " Here, lord." " Tonstain, this is the end ? " " Aye, lord." " Then bear me to the cave of Ulake, for there it is that I would die." CHAPTER VIII. VICTORY. So they carried him to Ulake's hermitage. And presently he gathered power of speech. The old hermit sat upon a stool beside him, his figure with its wilderness of beard etched out against a faint flickering light which sent faint gleams up and down the dark cavern walls. " Ulake," said Karadac, " I think I die." " It may be," said the hermit heavily. Karadac looked upwards at the worn and kingly face. "You envy me, perchance, good Ulake?" " Nay," said Ulake, " I know not if I envy. To envy would be sin. God draws our path across the sands of life ; we follow through a mist that hides the next step onward." "You know my story, Ulake how Goyault broke his oath, and Gundred betrayed my blind- ness." The knight's hand gripped at the skin.s which covered him. " It is the heaviest punishment on earth to have no hand of friend to touch, to have no lips of wife to dream of; nothing left but the dry husk of living!" " You have been wronged," the hermit said in VICTORY. 291 sad, musing speech, " yet 'twas a great love that wronged you." Then Karadac broke in. " Oh, Ulake, I have lost my dreams ! Love is no more for me." Then Ulake answered clearly : " Love cannot die." " Nay, they have left me stripped of all ! But yesterday I did forecast the slow years' return, wherein I saw no comfort ; for I am alone, so wildly and so utterly desolate that I have no dreams of this life or the next if there be one. Yesterday I looked down that dead inexorable stretch of Time and now I think I die." The voices of the water and the wind passed through the silence ere he spoke again. " I would pray there may be no awakening after death ; no knowledge save some half-remembered liftings of the heart as in bygone dawnings, some secret dim communion with Nature in her wild wet moods. You know the thrills even my dust could scarce forget them." So the Count's strength faded. Then Ulake rose, and with solemn rites bade him partake of the last comfort the Church sends to her dying. Thereafter Karadac moved not while the hermit prayed. Then Ulake touched him softly. " The tide is rising, and with the tide comes a boat that bears the Lady Gundred." 292 VICTORY. Karadac raised his dream-weary eyes. " Hermit, I pray I may be dead before she comes." " At this last hour, can you not forgive ? " " I forgave her long ago. But I have kept the semblance of my anger. For I cannot love her, nay, I know not why." " She is most worthy to be loved. Aye, although she sinned against you." " Ulake, I have been wrung with pity for her ! And had it been within the human power God gave me, I should have feigned a kindness that I could not feel. But through the years long past I could not choose but loathe her! " " And now ? For if you die before she comes ? " " Give her some message that will ease her heart. Say anything. The dead are safe." " I will say to her that you spoke of a shared hereafter, wherein she held her part. A lie indeed, yet " " One of God's lies, for there be such on this unhappy earth." Ulake spoke on. " Karadac, you have been in all, save the matter of those first wanderings on your way of love, a very perfect knight. Under happier stars you should have risen to an age-long fame." " Aye, and I am now an age-long scorn, a legend of defeated love ! " And so fell back to silence. Then the hermit VICTORY. 293 turned, and lo ! across the glooming of the waters came a little light. " It is the Lady Gundred," he said. " I will call her from the boat." The Count's dark head moved restlessly. " Nay, call her not." " Have pity, Karadac. She is stricken more mor- tally at her soul's core than you. Have you no word to give her that may cast some ray upon the shadows of her lonely days in store ? " So Gundred came and knelt all tearfully by the Count, and saw his eyes were closed, but his voice spake in gentleness as in the summer days. " Gundred." " My lord." " I would ask your pity and your prayers." And Gundred had no words to answer him. " I pray you say farewell. Death grows on me. I would not have you see my agony." Gundred laid a hand upon his brow, and Kara- dac's voice came forth with deadly pain. " Lady, there were deeds by which I wronged you." " The sin was mine. Yet, Karadac I loved ! " " All is awry. Great woe lies on us both. You did me wrong, or warring fate, or Heaven's purpose I know not which. Some wanton hand entangled our sad destinies : Goyault and Algitha, you, Lady Gundred, and blind Karadac. Was ever such a tale ! " 294 VICTORY. " Forgive me," whispered Gundred. " Forgive ? " said Karadac. " You, to whom I owe such happiness as dragged me back from death at Gros-Nez to fulfill my written lot ! I have com- manded Tonstain to uphold you regent in my seig- neuries. And now, farewell. Death's hand is at my heart." In a last anguish Gundred bent above him, and from her poor eyes a tear fell on his face. And even in that moment he flinched beneath it, then groaned in utter anguish, but Gundred knew the death-clutch at his vitals had less power to wound him than that tear. Softly rising, she went forth, for what farewell could she give to him ? Then, knowing Ulake at his side again, he mur- mured bitterly : " Oh, hermit, even now I could not look on her ! What fate is this of ours ? What is love ? I know not." And Ulake : "What is love, alas! lord Count? A pulse of our own heart. But the mortal body is a snare. Would your fair Algitha have laid so soft a hand upon your brow if you had slighted her? Is not this love the true love that you sought for? Surely, in that deep heart of Gundred's you found love fulfilled ! Beyond this earth, our poor flesh-temples' shed, which will you love ? which soul, which dream, which immortality? For your salvation's sake make answer ! " VICTORY. 295 " Nay, who can answer?" and so for a time lay frowning out the difficult thoughts of one in deathly agony. " Call Gundred hither." Karadac's voice. And she came in trembling. "Gundred, life is nearly past for me. But think not that I have forgotten. Nay, for when I close my eyes, I dream through tears of hours you wot of. 'Twas love fulfilled indeed. Perhaps in death " " Oh, Karadac, have we not spoken, you and I, of God's beyond ? " " Aye, some tell us of it, as this hermit here. And we believed it you and I in those past times. If that beyond there be, I will await you there, and, perchance, by pity of our sweet Lord Christ, we may be given back the love that broke at Gouray on that autumn day. And if outside of this sad earth no meeting-place be found, then I thank you for your love. I was unworthy of it, Gundred, for it has been a love beyond compare. And so farewell ! " He raised his hands and drew her brow upon his lips, and kissed her. And Ulake led her forth forever into a grey morning-mist of rain. EPILOGUE. LEGEND clusters round the name of Karadac. For its poetry clings about the greatly fortunate and most misfortunate alike. In its long rolls of honour and dishonour only the commonplace are dead. Some say Karadac died with Ulake in the hermit- age, and Gundred carried home her lord to the chapel of Mont Orgueil. There they built him a tomb, and hung his arms upon the wall. And traditions grew around him : how on nights when the sand, shifted by the storm, spoke at the narrow windows, the dark Count rose, and walked, and watched in the stone-built chapel, and, wandering to the arched door, sang high battle-chants. And morning found him at his rest again. Others say he lived, and departed secretly to fight God's battle in the Holy Land, and there did mighty deeds of prowess. But if the truth be with this tale or that, who knows? Goyault and Algitha fled to the Duke in Nor- mandy, and thence to English soil, where Goyault received rich demesnes and plunder. And they two lived in great content, and Algitha bore her lord sons, so that Goyault's seed is in the land to-day. But nevermore Goyault returned to Gersay, for EPILOGUE. 297 there Gundred ruled. And the great Castle of Gros-Nez crumbled from year to year, Time laying his heavy hand upon it. Now, at the limit of the wild heath-land, naught but a broken arch stands upright to tell the story of its ruin. Tonstain also sought the Duke's favour, coun- selling his way to power, and there was none the Saxons hated so. Gundred lived long in her own sunny Isle, dwell- ing in cloistered silence, broken only by the tolling of the bells. And in her time she bore a son, who lit for her anew a lamp of hope. Thus through the years the mornings and the evenings wore away, and Gundred joined the slumber of God's dead. So runs the chronicle of those who in that Nor- man dawning wandered in the wild-wood ways of love. And now their voices are a far-off drone, as ours will be, while the same hills that look on us to-day will look on our forgetting. For who will remem- ber us when we have been dead a thousand years ?