by A. D. Crake
Chapter 23: Saved As By Fire.
And all this time the true heir of Walderne was leading thedegraded life of an unhappy and most miserable slave in the palaceof the "Old Man of the Mountain," in the far off hills of Lebanon.
The six months passed away, and still they spared our Hubert.Others were taken away and met their most doleful fate, but themore youthful and active slaves were spared awhile, not out ofpity, but because of their utility; and Hubert's fine constitutionenabled him still to live. But he could not have lived on had henot still hoped. The tremendous inscription seen by the poet overthe sombre gate of hell was not yet burnt into his young heart:All ye that enter here, leave hope behind.
Some lucky accident, perhaps an invasion of the crusaders, mightdeliver him; but otherwise he would not despair while God gave himlife. Again, irreligious as some may think his former life, he hadgreat belief in the efficacy of the prayers of others. The thoughtthat his father and Martin were praying for him continually gavehim comfort.
"God will hear them, if not me," he thought.
Yet he did really learn to pray for himself more earnestly than hewould once have thought possible.
But when a year had nearly passed away in the wearying bondage, hewas summoned to the presence of the "Old Man."
"Christian," said the latter, "hast thou not borne the heat andburden of slavery long enough?"
"Long enough, indeed, my lord, but I cannot buy my liberty at theexpense of my faith."
"Not when the alternative is a bitter death?"
"No."
"Thy constancy will be tried. We have borne with thee full long. Atnext full moon thou wilt have had a year's reprieve. Thou mustprepare to worship the true God and acknowledge His prophet, ordie."
"My choice is made."
"Thy time shall come at the close of the year. Go."
And Hubert was led away.
And now he was tempted to yield to despair, when he was sustainedby what may be called a miraculous interposition.
It was dark night and he lay in his cell, the watchmen without, theyet more watchful dogs prowling and growling around; when all atonce he heard footsteps approaching his wretched bed chamber.
Who could it be? The dogs gave no sign; the oppressors generallyslept at that hour, and seldom disturbed a captive's nightly rest.The door opened, and--He beheld his father!
Yes, his father: haggard and worn with grief, but with a light asof another world over his worn features.
"Be of good cheer, my son; God permits me to come to thee thus, andto bid thee hold firm to the end, and thou shalt find that man'sextremity is His opportunity."
"Art thou really my father?"
And while he spoke in tones of awe and wonder the vision vanished.It was of God's appointment, that vision, given to confirm thefaith and hope of one of His children. Such was Hubert's belief{30}.
It was afterwards ascertained that on that very night, the fatherRoger dreamt that he saw his son in a gloomy cell, a slavecondemned to apparently hopeless toil or death, and addressed himas in the text.
The final night arrived, the moon was at its full, and for the lasttime, as it might be, the slave gazed upon the glowing orb shiningin the deep blue sky, with a brilliancy unknown in these northernclimes. But it recalled many a happy moonlit night in the oldentimes to his mind; in the chase, or on the terrace at Kenilworth;and that night when, all alone, he faced a hundred Welshmen.
"Shall I ever see my native land again?"
It seemed impossible, but "hope springs eternal in the humanbreast." All at once he became conscious of a lurid light minglingwith the milder moonbeams, then of the scent of fire, then of aloud cry, followed almost immediately by a louder chorus, all ofalarm or anguish. Then the trampling of many feet and shouts, whichhe knew enough of their language to interpret--the palace was inflames.
"Would they come and summon the slaves to help, or let them staytill the fire perchance reached them in their wretched cells?"
The doubt was soon solved. Hasty feet entered the courtyardwithout. The doors were opened one after another--
"Come and bear water; the palace is on fire!"
The slaves, thirty in number, were led through divers passages andcourts to the very front of the burning pile--blazing pile, weshould say. There it stood before him, in all its solemn and sombreEastern beauty--cupolas, minarets, domes, balloon-shaped spires,but the flames had seized a firm hold of the lower halls, and werebursting through the windows, adding a fearful brilliancy to itsaspect.
The slaves were instantly formed in line to pass leathern bucketsfrom hand to hand, filled with water from the fountain. Even atthis extremity two guards with drawn scimitars walked to and fro infront of the row, each looking and walking in the contrarydirection to the other, changing their direction at the same momentas they went and returned, so that no slave was for a moment out ofsight of the watchmen with the keen bright weapons. And every manknew, instinctively, that the least movement which lookedsuspicious might bring the flashing blade on his devoted neck,bearing away the trunkless head like a plaything.
Still, Hubert could use his eyes, and he gazed around. In thecentre of the brilliantly-lighted court was a small circularerection of stone, like an inverted tub, with iron gratings aroundit. The flat surface, the disc we may call it, was half composed ofiron bars like a grate, supported by the stonework, and in thecentre ran an iron post with rings stout and strong, from which aniron girdle, unclasped, depended.
What could it be meant for?
"Ah, I see, it is the stake put in order for me tomorrow."
He looked at the courtyard. There were seats tier upon tier oneither side, with awnings over them. In front there was a low wall,and the ground appeared to fall somewhat precipitously away fromit. Beyond the moonlight disclosed a glorious view of mountains andhills, valleys and depths.
All this he saw, and his mind was made up either to escape or dieon the spot by the flashing scimitar, far easier to bear than thefiery death designed for him on the morrow.
And while he thought, a loud cry drew all eyes elsewhere. At awindow, right above the flaming hall, appeared the agonised facesof some of the hopeful pupils of the "Old Man," forgotten and left,when the rest were aroused: and so far as human wit could judge,the same death awaited them which they were to have gazed upon withpitiless eyes, as inflicted upon a helpless slave, on the morrow.They had probably been looking forward to the occasion, as aSpaniard to his auto da fe, as an interesting spectacle.
Oh, how different the feelings of the spectators and the victims onsuch occasions; when humanity sinks to its lowest depths, andcruelty becomes a delight. God preserve us from such possibilities,which make us ashamed of our nature, whether exhibited in theMussulman, the Spaniard, or the Red Indian. But we must notmoralise here.
All eyes were drawn to the spot. The "Old Man" himself, now firstheard, cried for ladders: it was too late, the building wastottering; it bent inward, an awful crash, and--
At that moment the eyes of both guards were averted, drawn to theterrible spectacle; and Hubert sprang upon the nearest from behind.In a moment he had mastered the scimitar, and the next moment ahead, not Hubert's, rolled on the blood-stained pavement. Helingered not an instant, but with the rush of a wild beast flew onthe other sentinel, a moment's clashing of blades, the skill of theknight prevailed, and the Moslem was cleft to the chin.
"Away, slaves! one bold rush! liberty or death!"
And Hubert leapt over the wall.
He rolled down a declivity, not quite a precipice. Fortunately forhim his course was arrested by some bushes, and he was able toguide himself to the bottom, where he descended into a deep valley,through which a cold brook, fed from the snows of Hermon, trickledmerrily along.
He was not alone. Two or three other escaped fugitives camecrashing through the bushes, and stood by his side; but Hubert wasthe only man armed. He had been able to retain the scimitar soboldly won.
Above them the palace still blaze
d, and cast a lurid light, whichwas reflected from the cold snowy peak of Hermon, and steeped inruddy glare many an inaccessible crag and precipice.
"Do any of my brethren know the country?"
At first no one answered. Each looked at the other. Then one spokediffidently:
"If we follow this stream we shall eventually arrive at the watersof Merom."
"But remember that meanwhile men and dogs alike will hunt us, andthat only one is armed, although the arm that freed us mightsustain a host," said another.
"We must efface our track and then hide. Let each one walk in thebrawling bed of the torrent; it leaves no scent for the dogs tofollow," said Hubert.
They descended slowly and painfully amidst loose rocks andboulders, avoiding many a pitfall, many a black depth, until thedawn was at hand. Just then they heard a deep sound, like acathedral bell, booming down the valley.
"What bell is that?"
"No bell, it is the deep bay of the bloodhounds."
"But they can find no trace."
"They are on the track we left, far above, before we entered thestream. If they cannot scent us in the water, they will have thesense to follow us downstream, keeping a dog on each bank in easewe leave it."
"What shall we do?" asked the helpless men.
Above them the rocks rose wild and horrent, apparentlyinaccessible, but the keen eye of our Hubert detected one path, amere goat path, used perhaps also by shepherds.
"Follow me," he said, and leaving the stream ascended the path, averitable mauvais pas. At the height of some two hundred feet itstruck inward through a wild region.
"Here we must make a stand at this summit," said Hubert, "and meetthe dogs. I will give a good account of them."
He descended a little way to a point where the dogs could onlyascend by a very narrow cleft in the rocks, and there he waited forthe first dog. Soon a hideous black hound appeared, and withflashing eyes and gaping jaws sprang at our hero. He was receivedwith a sweep of the scimitar, which cleft his diabolical head intwain, and he rolled down the deep declivity, all mangled andbleeding, to the foot, missing the path and falling from rock torock, so that when he was found by the party who followed theycould not tell by what means he had received his first wound.
And when the other dogs arrived at the spot, which was deluged ingore, after the wont of their race they would follow the scent nofarther.
Meanwhile our little party of five rescued captives went joyfullyforward with renewed hope, until midday, when they found a coolspot by the side of the streams leading to the waters of Merom--thehead waters of the Jordan. And there, under a date tree whichafforded them food, they watched in turn until the sun was low;after which they renewed their journey.
Soon they left the smaller lake behind, and followed the waters ofthe Upper Jordan to the Sea of Galilee, skirting its western shore,so rich in sacred memories, with the ruins of Capernaum, Chorazin,Bethsaida, Magdala, and other cities, long ago trodden:By those sacred feet once nailed,For our salvation, to the bitter rood.
In the evening they rested amidst the ruins of Enon, near Salim;and on the morrow resumed their course, avoiding the great towns;begging bread in the villages--a boon readily granted. And in theevening they saw the promontory of Carmel, and reached the Hospitalof Saint John of Acre, where Hubert's father, Sir Roger, had beenrestored to health and life.
Sir Hugh de Revel, Grand Master of the Order of Saint John, heardof the arrival of five Christian fugitives, escaped from the palaceof the "Old Man of the Mountain," and naturally curiosity led himto interrogate them. To his astonishment he found one of them aknight like himself, and, to his further surprise, recognised theson of an old acquaintance, Sir Roger of Walderne.
All was well now.
"Thou must perforce fulfil thy pilgrimage, although thou hast lostthe sword which was to have been taken to the Holy Sepulchre."
"My brother," said the prior then present, "dost thou remember thata party of pilgrims arrived here a year since, who said that, inthe gorges of Lebanon, they had come upon the scene of a recentconflict, and found a broken sword, which they brought with themand left here?"
"Bring it hither, Raymond," said Sir Hugh to a sprightly page.
It was brought, and to his joy Hubert recognised the sword of theSieur de Fievrault, which he had broken on a Moslem's skull in thedesperate fight wherein he was taken prisoner. With what joy did hereceive it! He could now discharge his father's delegated duty.
"Rest here awhile, and when thy strength is fully restored, startwith better omens on thy journey to Jerusalem."
Oh, the rest of the next few days in that glorious hospital, withits deep shady cloisters, with its massive walls and its beauteouschapel, wherein, on the following day, which was Sunday, as Hubertwas told, for he had long since lost count of time, he returnedthanks to God for his preservation, and took part once more in theworship of a Christian congregation, and knelt before a Christianaltar. The walls of that chapel were of almost as many preciousstones as Saint John enumerates in describing the New Jerusalem.Its rich colouring, its dim religious light, its devout psalmody;oh, how soothing to the wearied spirit.
And then he reclined that afternoon in a delicious Eastern garden,rich with the perfume of many flowers, shaded by spreading trees,vocal with the sound of many fountains; and there, at the requestof the fraternity, he related his wondrous adventures to the menwho had erst heard his father's tale.
The time of his arrival was between the sixth and the seventh, orlast, crusade; during which period Acre, situated about seventymiles from Jerusalem, had become the metropolis of the Christians{31} in Palestine, after the loss of the Holy City. It wasadorned with noble buildings, aqueducts, artificial harbour, andstrong fortifications. From hence such pilgrims as dared venturemade their hazardous visits to Jerusalem, which they could onlyenter as a favour, granted in return for much expenditure oftreasure and submission to many humiliations; and thus Hubert wasforced to accomplish his father's vow, setting forth so soon as hisstrength was restored.