by A. D. Crake
Chapter 17: The Castle Of Fievrault.
It was the province of Auvergne in France. Through the forest, deepand gloomy, rode our Hubert and his squire, with the sixmen-at-arms, a few days after their departure from England. Theyhad gained the soil of France, and had found the town in Auvergnewhich bore the name of the De Fievrault family, and early in thefollowing morning they started for the old chateau, which they wereforewarned they would find in ruins, to seek the fated sword.
It was added that the place was haunted, and that they would dowell to return before nightfall.
The road which led thither was evidently but seldom trodden. Itabounded in sunken ruts, wherein lurked the adder. It led by sullenpools, where the bittern boomed and the pike swam, his silver sideglittering like a streak of light beneath the dark surface, as hesought his finny prey. Now it was marshy and muddy, now it wastangled with thorns, now impeded by fallen trees. So thick was theverdure that the sky could not often be seen.
"I should be sorry, Almeric," said the young knight to his squire,"to traverse this route by night. Yet unless we make better use ofour legs it will happen to us to have the choice either ofencountering the wolves of the forest or the phantoms of thecastle."
"Are not those the towers?" said the young squire, pointing to someextinguisher-like turrets which just then came in sight.
"Verily they be, and if we make haste we may reach them bynoontide."
But between them and the object of their journey lay a deep fosseor moat, and the rusty drawbridge was suspended by its chains tothe walls of the towers.
"Blow thine horn, Almeric."
It was long blown in vain, but at length an old man in squalidattire, with long dishevelled gray locks and matted beard, appearedat the window of the watch tower above.
"Whom seek ye here, in the haunted Castle of Fievrault?"
"The sword of its last lord, that I may bear it to the Holy Land inhis name, and lay it on the Holy Sepulchre of our Lord."
"Thou art the man the fates foretell. Lo, I will let down thebridge, and thou mayst enter."
"What a squalid old man! Can he be the sole inhabitant?" saidAlmeric in a whisper.
The rusty machinery creaked, the bridge sank into its appointedplace, and at the same moment the portcullis was heard to wind upwith a grating sound. The little troop entered the courtyardthrough the gateway in the tower.
A ruined castle! the dismantled towers rose around them with thegreat hall, the windows broken, the casement shattered. Ivy grewaround the fragments, and embracing them, veiled their squalidnesswith its green robe, making that picturesque which anon washideous. But company gives confidence, and our little troop rode,laughing and talking, into the haunted Castle of Fievrault.
"I have no food," said the old man.
"We need none; we have brought both meat and wine. Wilt thou shareit? Thou look'st as if a good meal might do thee good."
"I have eaten my frugal meal already, and desire none of your catesand dainties. Lo, I am ready to conduct you to the hall where hangsthe sword of the man whom thy father slew one Friday long ago, andit will be well for thee but to tarry while thou takest it and thendepart."
"We will eat our nuncheon, with your leave, in the castle hall."
"I cannot say you nay."
He took them to the half-dismantled dining hall, where hung theportraits of the old lords of Fievrault rudely limned, andconspicuous amongst them those of the founder of the house, and hisloathly lady; the painter had not flattered them.
There hung several swords, rusty with age and disuse, two-handedweapons which it required a giant strength to wield; hugebattle-axes, maces, clubs tipped with iron spikes, ancient suits ofarmour, rusty and unsightly, as old clothing of that sort is apt tobecome after the lapse of years. There was no vacant hook now, forat the end of the row hung the sword of the ill-fated Sieur deFievrault, the last of his grim race.
The Englishmen gazed upon the portraits, which they regarded withinsular irreverence (what were French knights and dames to them?),then without awe spread the contents of their wallets on the board,and feasted in serenity and ease.
When it was over the wine produced its usual exhilarating effect.Song and romaunt were sung until the shadows began to turn towardsthe east and the hues of approaching evening to suffuse the shadesof the adjacent wilderness. Then the old servitor came up toHubert:
"It is time, my lord, to take the sword thou hast come to seek, andto go, unless thou wishest to be benighted in the forest."
"My lord," said Almeric, "we have come abroad in quest ofadventures, and as yet found none to relate around the winterfireside when we get home again; and it is the humble petition ofyour poor squire and men-at-arms that we may remain in the castlethis night and see what stuff the phantoms are made of, if phantomsthere be."
Hubert smiled approval.
"My Almeric," he said, 'I have ever been of opinion that ghostlyapparitions are delusions, and always thought that I should like toput the matter to a test. Wherefore I welcome your proposal withjoy, for I doubted whether any of you would willingly stay with me.We will remain here tonight."
"Nay," said the old withered retainer of the house of Fievrault;"bethink thee, my lord, of what befell thy own father."
"And for that very reason his son would fain avenge him," saidHubert flippantly, "and flout the ghosts, if such things there be.And if men--Frenchmen or the like--see fit to attire themselves inmasquerade, no coward fear will blunt the edge of our swords."
"Wilful must have his way," said the old servitor with a sigh."What is to be will be, only remember, all of you, the old man haswarned you, and only permits you to remain because he has no powerto send you forth."
"Nay, be not so inhospitable."
"A churl will be a churl," said Almeric.
The old man shook his head sadly, and went about his business,whatever that may have been.
The party now broke up to examine the castle, and to make sure thatall was as it seemed, and that no earthly inmates were there toplay pranks in the night. They ascended the ruined towers, andgazed upon a wilderness of leaves, as far as the eye could reach,save where a wild fantastic range of mountains upreared its rivenpeaks in the dim distance, the Puy de Dome, the highest point. Thenthey descended the steps and explored the vaults and dungeons:dismal habitations dug by the hands of cruel men in the solid rockupon which the castle was built. In one they shuddered to behold ahuman skeleton, from which the rats had long since eaten the flesh,chained by steel manacles around its wrists and ankles to the wall,and hence still retaining its upright position: and in each ofthese dark chambers they found sufficient evidence of the fellcharacter of the house of Fievrault.
In one large cell, which had evidently been the torture chamber,they found the rusty implements of cruelty--curious arrangements ofropes and pulleys; a rack which had fallen to pieces with age; abrazier with rusty pincers, which had once been heated red hottherein, to tear the quivering flesh from some victim, who had longsince carried his plaint to the bar of God, where the oppressorshad also long since followed him.
Hubert and his followers shuddered; but they were a little morehardened to the sight of such things, which were not unknown inthose times even in "merry England," than we should be.
"Where does that trap door lead to?" said Almeric, pointing to anarrangement of two folding doors in front of a rude image.
"It looks firm."
"Nay, trust it not. Here is a rude stump, once used as a seat. Rollit upon the trap doors."
The round, short log was rolled on the trap, which gave way atonce. Down went the log, and, after what seemed minutes to thoseabove, came a hollow boom. It had reached the bottom. Theoubliette--Almeric shuddered, and the colour faded from his face.
"What if I had tried the strength with my own weight!" thought he.
They returned to the upper air. The sun had set, and the shades ofnight were gathering around the hoary pile, and, with deepeningshades, every soul present fel
t a sense of gloom and depressioncreep over him; a sort of apprehension which had no visible cause,and could not easily be explained, but which led one to start atshadows, and look round at each unexpected footfall.
For over all there came a sense of fear,A sense of mystery the spirit daunted,And said as plain as whisper in the ear--"This place is haunted."
"Bring wood. Kindle a fire on the hearth here. Set torches in thosecressets. Bring out the remains of our dinner. There is yet plentyof the vin de pays; let us eat drink, and be merry."
Wood was plentiful, pine torches easily procured in such alocality, and soon the hall was bright with the firelight and vocalwith the sound of voices in melody. So the hours sped on until itwas quite dark. It was a very still night, but the clouds werethick, and there were no stars abroad.
At length they had burned all the wood which had been brought in.
"Go, Tristam, and bring more wood from the great pile in thecourtyard," said Hubert.
Tristam, a grizzled man-at-arms, went out.
All at once a cry of horror was heard. All started to their feet,but before they could run to Tristam's aid the door was dashedopen, and he ran in, his hair erect with horror, and his eyesstarting from their sockets.
"It is after me!" he shrieked, as he slammed the door behind him.
"What was it?" said Hubert, while the sight of the man's infectiousterror sent a thrill through all of them.
But he couldn't tell; he only stood and gibbered and shuddered, asif he had lost his senses, then crept to the innermost corner ofthe large fireplace, where they made room for him, and moaned likesome wounded animal.
"The wood must be brought," said Hubert. "We are not going to letthe fire go out, nor to be frightened at shadows.
"Almeric, you will come with me and fetch it."
"Yes, master," said Almeric, not without a shudder, which did notpromise well.
"Say a Pater and an Ave, Almeric. Sign thyself with the Cross.Now!"
And they went forth.
The night was, as we have said, intensely dark, and they eachcarried a fat, resinous pine torch, which diffused a lurid lightaround. The stones of the courtyard were slimy from long neglect;and the light, drizzly rain which was falling churned the dust andslime into thin mud. As they drew near the wood pile, Hubert goingboldly first, they both fancied a presence--a presence which causeda sickening dread--between them and the pile.
"Look, master," said Almeric, in tones half choked with horror.
Hubert followed the direction of Almeric's glance, and saw that afootmark impressed itself in the slime before their own advancingtread, just as if some invisible being were walking before them. Sosickening a dread, yet quite an inexplicable one, a dread of thevague unknown, came upon them that, brave men as they were, theycould not proceed to the wood pile, and, like Tristam, returnedempty handed.
"Where is the wood?" was the general cry.
"Let no one go out for wood tonight," said Hubert. "We must breakup the forms, the floors, nay, our dining board, to sustain thefire--for fire we must have. Now, remember we are warriors of theCross, pledged to a holy cause, and that no demon can hurt us if weare true to ourselves. Join me in the holy psalms of the nightwatch, then spread our cloaks and sleep here."
They said the well-known compline psalms, familiar then in Englandfrom their nightly use. Then, replenishing the fire at the expenseof some rude oaken benches, and barring the door, they all stroveto sleep. A watch seemed needless. The fear was that they would allbe found watching when they should be sleeping.
But yet whether from extreme fatigue or any other cause, they didall fall asleep.
In the dead hour of the night Hubert alone awoke, with theconsciousness that someone was gazing upon him. He looked up. Therewas the figure which had so often tormented his poor father, theslain Frenchman, the last Sieur de Fievrault, pale and gory, hishand on the wound in his side.
"Speak, dread phantom! What dost thou want with me? I go to do thybidding, to fulfil thy vow."
"Thank God! Thou hast spoken, and I may speak, too. Thou goest todo my bidding in love for thy father, to fulfil my vow. Alas, manytrials await thee. Canst thou face them?"
"I can do all man can do."
"So I imagine from thy bold bearing in this haunted castle of myancestors. It is well. Only go forward, whatever happens. Thoushalt not perish. Thou shalt deliver thy father and me, condemnedas yet to walk this lower earth, till the vow my own misconductmade me unworthy to fulfil is fulfilled by thee. Fare thee well,and fear not."
And the figure disappeared.
Hubert felt a sense of blessed relief, under which he fell asleepagain, and did not awake until aroused by a cry of terror. Hestarted up. Almeric and all the men were on their feet, likefrenzied beings, gazing into the darkness which enveloped the endof the hall. Then they rushed with a wild cry at the door, whichthey unbarred with eager hands, and issued into the darkness. Heheard a heavy fall, as if one, perhaps two, had missed the stepsand gone headlong into the courtyard.
Terror is contagious, but Hubert saw nothing as yet to fear.
"Come back, ye cowards! Shame on ye!" he cried, but cried invain--he was alone in the haunted hall.
The fact was that Hubert felt as if he personally had made hispeace with the mysterious haunters of the castle, and had nothingto fear. So he did not stir, but was even able to sleep again untilaroused by the aged janitor, just as the blessed light of dawn waspouring through the oriel window.
"I warned you, my lord," he said.
"You did. The fault, and the punishment, too, is ours. But whereare my men?"
"Here is one," said the janitor, leading Hubert to the cell overthe gateway which he occupied himself, where on a couch lay poorAlmeric with a broken arm; broken in falling down the steps.
"And where are the rest?" said Hubert after expressing his sympathyto the wounded squire.
"In the forest; they were raving like madmen in the courtyard, andI opened the gates and let them out to cool their brains. They willdoubtless be here anon."
"What didst thou see, Almeric, that frightened thee out of thyreason?"
"Ask me not! I may tell thee anon, but let us leave this evilplace," said Almeric.
"We must wait for our men--I will go out and blow my horn withoutthe barbican."
He blew a mighty blast, and after awhile first one and then anotherresponded to the appeal, looking thoroughly ashamed of themselves;till four were in presence. But the fifth never arrived; doubtlesshe had met some mishap in the forest.
"The wolves have got him," said the old man. "There is an old shewolf with a litter of cubs not far off, and I heard a mightyhowling there-a-way after the gates were opened. If he staggered inher way in the darkness she would be sure to tear him to pieces."
They sought for him in vain, but could not risk having to passanother night in the place. Almeric was able to sit his horse withdifficulty, Hubert taking the reins and riding at his side andsupporting him from time to time with his arm. The sprightly ladwas quite changed.
"I know not what it was," he said, "but it was something in thatdarkness, an awful face, a giant form, a deathly thing of horror,and we lost our presence of mind and sought absence of body. Thatis all I can say. It was something borne upon our wills and wecould not resist. I shall never want to try such experimentsagain."
Even our Hubert, brave as he had been, was changed. He understoodhis father's affliction better, nor was he ever quite so lighthearted and frivolous again. The joy of youth was dimmed. Yet heoften thought that the apparition of the slain Frenchman might havebeen but a dream sent from heaven, to encourage him in hisundertaking on his father's behalf.