Troubadour Tales

by Evaleen Stein

forget his miseries, and the dreadfulthings ahead of him; but try as he might, now and then a big tear wouldforce itself through his closed lids, and trickle down his poor littleblood-stained cheeks.

  And so another hour wore on, Geoffrey growing all the while moredespairing and miserable in his gloomy prospects. But at last, just ashe had given up all hope of the heralds, and concluded that the plighthe had got himself into had been all useless after all,—he suddenlystarted up, and clutching the sleeve of the man-at-arms, exclaimed,“Hark! what is that?”

  “Hush, hush, little one! ’tis nothing,” said the man, who was a stupidfellow, half dozing, and merely thought the lad crazed by his fright.

  “Nay!” cried Geoffrey, “but listen!”

  Here the guard somewhat pricked up his ears.

  “By my faith!” he answered, “I believe ’tis a blare of trumpets! Somenoble must be coming to Dives!”

  But Geoffrey, with eyes shining, held his breath, and listened to thesounds, which seemed to be coming nearer. First there was a greatfanfare of trumpets; then a blare of horns; and then he could hear theclatter as the inn folk hastened across the paved courtyard to thegateway to see what was going on in the street without. In a littlewhile some of them seemed to return, and Geoffrey, who was burning toknow, but could not stir for his chains, besought the man-at-arms toask some one the cause of the commotion; so going over to the window ofthe room, he called out to a passer-by.

  “Ho, comrade! what is the meaning of yonder uproar?”

  “’Tis the king’s heralds,” answered the voice from without; “he hathsent them to proclaim a new law forbidding duels!”

  Then, before long, the heralds, having made the tour of the Divesstreets, came riding toward the inn, escorted by a train of Divespeople. Geoffrey heard their horses’ hoofs as they pricked in throughthe gateway, and also had the great joy of hearing them make theproclamation itself; for having heard that at that very moment anobleman was lodging in the inn, come there for the purpose of a nowunlawful duel, they halted in the middle of the courtyard, and risingin their stirrups, blew their trumpets, and again elaborately announcedthe royal edict,—this time for the express benefit of their twocountships, Hugo and Boni.

  Hearing this, Geoffrey was wild with delight; it was all working outjust as he had counted on! That is, all but one fact, which he allat once ruefully remembered; he himself was at that moment still aprisoner of the cruel Count Hugo. He had not counted on that at all!

  O, he thought, if he could only get out and throw himself on themercy of the heralds! They were his only hope; for Count Boni as yetknew not why he had taken the sword, and was perhaps angry with himand would not come at once to help him. So he piteously begged andbesought the man-at-arms to take off his chains and let him go only sofar as the courtyard. But the man, though he felt sorry for the boy,had too hearty a terror of the consequences to himself if he let himout against Hugo’s orders; so he turned a deaf ear to all Geoffrey’sentreaties, and gruffly told him he could do nothing for him.

  At this the poor little boy fell to sobbing, and sobbed and sobbed mostof the night; for the dark had now fallen, and the little fellow wasquite hopeless for the morrow, when he knew Count Hugo meant to takehim away.

  Meantime, that nobleman had passed into another terrible rage when heheard the edict of the heralds. He was furious! Furious at the king,the heralds, at Geoffrey and the world in general; because he sawhimself thwarted in his plans to kill Boni,—as he felt confident hecould do, with his unholy skill with the sword,—and to seize Boni’srich estate. All this put him in a frightful temper; although he waswise enough to know that he dare not defy the king. So he scolded andswore at everybody in sight, and then sulkily withdrew to his ownapartments, after giving orders to have his coach made ready to leaveearly in the morning; for he wished to get off with Geoffrey at least,before any one could prevent _that_! And on the boy he meant to wreakfull vengeance.

  So the next morning Hugo, contrary to his custom, was astir early; hehad breakfasted in his room, and then hastening down to the courtyard,got into his yellow coach and sent instant orders for the man-at-armsto bring Geoffrey and mount the coach also; for he wished to keep aneye on his victim and also to demand fulfilment of his promise torestore the sword. But just as the man-at-arms was on his way to thecount, with his miserable little prisoner, he was intercepted by thetwo heralds, who had been astir earlier even than Hugo.

  Indeed, they were up because they had had a word or two put into theirears the night before by the jongleur, who had sought them out and hada bit of a talk with them. Now the jongleur was a shrewd fellow, andrecalling his conversation under the plane-tree with Geoffrey, had puttwo and two together, and had pretty well understood the boy’s reasonsfor carrying off the sword; and admiring him, he had determined to dothe best he could to save him, if explaining things to the heraldscould effect this. And it seemed it could; for now the heralds, layinghold of the boy, first asked him if he had restored the stolen sword.

  “Nay, sirs,” he answered, “but I will right gladly do as I promised, ifye will let me go and get it!”

  So one of the heralds went with him down into the garden, and stoodover Geoffrey as he uncovered the weapon and gathered it up still safein its scabbard. Then conducting him back to the courtyard, and to thedoor of the count’s coach, the two king’s messengers stood, one oneach side, as the boy, making an obeisance, presented the sword to theglowering count.

  The heralds then solemnly announced to all,—for everyone in the innhad gathered about by this time,—that they bore witness that thelad had duly restored the stolen property to its rightful owner; andthat punishment for his taking it must be meted out by his rightfulsuzerain, the noble Count Boni, to whose estate the boy’s familybelonged. They demanded this right for Geoffrey, in the name of theking.

  Now Count Hugo knew well enough that every peasant had a right to betried for a crime by the nobleman of his own home; but he had trustedto carry things off with a high hand, thinking no one at the inn woulddare oppose him; as was undoubtedly the case. But with the king’sheralds it was different; they did not fear him, and so he was obligedto give up the boy.

  This last thwarting of his plans, however, was almost too much forHugo! White with rage, he thundered to his driver to whip up thehorses, and off he clattered, disdainfully turning his back on theGuillaume-le-Conquérant inn and all that it contained; and his swarmof retainers followed him, all quaking in their boots from fear oftheir master’s violent temper.

  After the count’s departure, Geoffrey, still in charge of the heralds,was taken into the great kitchen of the inn, where everybody gatheredabout, delighted at the little boy’s escape from Hugo’s clutches. Thecook gave him some nice little cakes fresh from the oven; the peacockstrailed past the open door proudly spreading their beautiful tails; andthe pink and white cockatoo overhead screamed his “Tee deedle!” andseemed as pleased as anybody.

  After a while the heralds gave Geoffrey over into the charge of CountBoni’s second, who had meantime arrived to say that the count wasoutside the walls of Dives, at the appointed place, and ready to meetHugo in the proposed duel. The second was greatly surprised when heheard how matters had turned out; for he had spent the day before withCount Boni at the Château Beauvais, and neither he nor his master hadyet heard of the proclamation or the subsequent departure of CountHugo. However, he took the little boy with him back to Count Boni, towhom he delivered the message the heralds had sent: that he, Boni, wasto decide on what punishment Geoffrey was to receive for the taking ofHugo’s sword; though it really seemed that the child had had punishmentenough already, at the hands of the cruel count himself!

  When Count Boni was told all these things, at first he was greatlydispleased; for he was young and high-spirited, and very angry withHugo, whom he wished to fight regardless of the danger he ran fromsuch an unscrupulous antagonist, and he did not like it that a littlepeasant boy had interfered.

  Though when he understood how mu
ch the boy had risked and suffered forlove of himself and little Isabeau, he could not find it in his heartto wish Geoffrey punished. And indeed, in after years he came heartilyto thank the warm-hearted, devoted little lad, whose impulsive act hadno doubt kept him from losing both life and property to a wicked anddishonorable man.

  Meantime Count Boni felt himself in a very delicate position. AsGeoffrey’s overlord, it was his duty to punish him for taking thesword, even though it had been restored to its rightful owner; but asthe sword had been taken because the little boy wished to keep CountBoni himself from the chance of being killed, how could he inflictsevere punishment upon him? Indeed, this question was so difficult thatthe count concluded he must take time to think it over, and meantimehe held Geoffrey prisoner at the château. This did not prevent the boyfrom having the kindest treatment and the freedom of the grounds, wherehe enjoyed many a merry romp with little Isabeau, who was happy as abird, and thought Geoffrey the nicest and most wonderful boy in allthe world because he had succeeded in preventing