by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XIV: THE JOURNEY
I see thee yet, fair France--thou favour'd land Of art and nature--thou art still before me, Thy sons, to whom their labour is a sport, So well thy grateful soil returns its tribute, Thy sunburnt daughters, with their laughing eyes And glossy raven locks. But, favour'd France, Thou hast had many a tale of woe to tell In ancient times as now.
ANONYMOUS
Avoiding all conversation with any one (for such was his charge),Quentin Durward proceeded hastily to array himself in a strong but plaincuirass, with thigh and arm pieces, and placed on his head a good steelcap without any visor. To these was added a handsome cassock of chamoisleather, finely dressed, and laced down the seams with some embroidery,such as might become a superior officer in a noble household.
These were brought to his apartment by Oliver, who, with his quiet,insinuating smile and manner, acquainted him that his uncle had beensummoned to mount guard purposely that he might make no inquiriesconcerning these mysterious movements.
"Your excuse will be made to your kinsman," said Oliver, smiling again,"and, my dearest son, when you return safe from the execution of thispleasing trust, I doubt not you will be found worthy of such promotionas will dispense with your accounting for your motions to any one, whileit will place you at the head of those who must render an account oftheirs to you."
So spoke Oliver le Diable, calculating, probably, in his own mind,the great chance there was that the poor youth whose hand he squeezedaffectionately as he spoke, must necessarily encounter death orcaptivity in the commission intrusted to his charge. He added to hisfair words a small purse of gold, to defray necessary expenses on theroad, as a gratuity on the King's part.
At a few minutes before twelve at midnight, Quentin, according to hisdirections, proceeded to the second courtyard, and paused under theDauphin's Tower, which, as the reader knows, was assigned for thetemporary residence of the Countesses of Croye. He found, at this placeof rendezvous, the men and horses appointed to compose the retinue,leading two sumpter mules already loaded with baggage, and holding threepalfreys for the two Countesses and a faithful waiting woman, with astately war horse for himself, whose steel plated saddle glanced in thepale moonlight. Not a word of recognition was spoken on either side. Themen sat still in their saddles as if they were motionless, and by thesame imperfect light Quentin saw with pleasure that they were all armed,and held long lances in their hands. They were only three in number, butone of them whispered to Quentin, in a strong Gascon accent, that theirguide was to join them beyond Tours.
Meantime, lights glanced to and fro at the lattices of the tower, asif there was bustle and preparation among its inhabitants. At lengtha small door, which led from the bottom of the tower to the court, wasunclosed, and three females came forth attended by a man wrapped in acloak. They mounted in silence the palfreys which stood prepared forthem, while their attendant on foot led the way, and gave the passwordsand signals to the watchful guards, whose posts they passed insuccession. Thus they at length reached the exterior of these formidablebarriers. Here the man on foot, who had hitherto acted as their guide,paused, and spoke low and earnestly to the two foremost females.
"May heaven bless you, Sire," said a voice which thrilled uponQuentin Durward's ear, "and forgive you, even if your purposes be moreinterested than your words express! To be placed in safety under theprotection of the good Bishop of Liege, is the utmost extent of mydesire."
The person whom she thus addressed muttered an inaudible answer, andretreated back through the barrier gate, while Quentin thought that, bythe moon glimpse, he recognized in him the King himself, whose anxietyfor the departure of his guests had probably induced him to give hispresence, in case scruples should arise on their part, or difficultieson that of the guards of the Castle.
When the riders were beyond the Castle, it was necessary for some timeto ride with great precaution, in order to avoid the pitfalls, snares,and similar contrivances which were placed for the annoyance ofstrangers. The Gascon was, however, completely possessed of the clewto this labyrinth, and in a quarter of an hour's riding they foundthemselves beyond the limits of Plessis le Parc, and not far distantfrom the city of Tours.
The moon, which had now extricated herself from the clouds throughwhich she was formerly wading, shed a full sea of glorious light upona landscape equally glorious. They saw the princely Loire rolling hismajestic tide through the richest plain in France, and sweeping alongbetween banks ornamented with towers and terraces, and with olives andvineyards. They saw the walls of the city of Tours, the ancient capitalof Touraine, raising their portal towers and embattlements white in themoonlight, while from within their circle rose the immense Gothic mass,which the devotion of the sainted Bishop Perpetuus erected as early asthe fifth century, and which the zeal of Charlemagne and his successorshad enlarged with such architectural splendour as rendered it the mostmagnificent church in France. The towers of the church of Saint Gatien[the cathedral of Tours] were also visible, and the gloomy strength ofthe Castle, which was said to have been, in ancient times, the residenceof the Emperor Valentinian [a Roman emperor who strengthened thenorthern frontiers against the barbarians].
Even the circumstances in which he was placed, though of a nature soengrossing, did not prevent the wonder and delight with which the youngScottishman, accustomed to the waste though impressive landscape ofhis own mountains, and the poverty even of his country's most statelyscenery, looked on a scene which art and nature seemed to have viedin adorning with their richest splendour. But he was recalled to thebusiness of the moment by the voice of the elder lady (pitched at leastan octave higher than those soft tones which bade adieu to King Louis),demanding to speak with the leader of the band. Spurring his horseforward, Quentin respectfully presented himself to the ladies in thatcapacity, and thus underwent the interrogatories of the Lady Hameline.
"What was his name, and what his degree?"
He told both.
"Was he perfectly acquainted with the road?"
"He could not," he replied, "pretend to much knowledge of the route,but he was furnished with full instructions, and he was, at their firstresting place, to be provided with a guide, in all respects competent tothe task of directing their farther journey, meanwhile, a horseman, whohad just joined them and made the number of their guard four, was to betheir guide for the first stage."
"And wherefore were you selected for such a duty, young gentleman?" saidthe lady. "I am told you are the same youth who was lately upon guard inthe gallery in which we met the Princess of France. You seem youngand inexperienced for such a charge--a stranger, too, in France, andspeaking the language as a foreigner."
"I am bound to obey the commands of the King, madam, but am notqualified to reason on them," answered the young soldier.
"Are you of noble birth?" demanded the same querist.
"I may safely affirm so, madam," replied Quentin.
"And are you not," said the younger lady, addressing him in her turn,but with a timorous accent, "the same whom I saw when I was called towait upon the King at yonder inn?"
Lowering his voice, perhaps from similar feelings of timidity, Quentinanswered in the affirmative.
"Then methinks, my cousin," said the Lady Isabelle, addressing the LadyHameline, "we must be safe under this young gentleman's safeguard,he looks not, at least, like one to whom the execution of a planof treacherous cruelty upon two helpless women could be with safetyintrusted."
"On my honour," said Durward, "by the fame of my house, by the bonesof my ancestry, I could not, for France and Scotland laid into one, beguilty of treachery or cruelty towards you!"
"You speak well, young man," said the Lady Hameline, "but we areaccustomed to hear fair speeches from the King of France and his agents.It was by these that we were induced, when the protection of the Bishopof Liege might have been attained with less risk than now, or when wemight have thrown ourselves on that of Winceslaus of Germany, orof Edward of E
ngland, to seek refuge in France. And in what did thepromises of the King result? In an obscure and shameful concealing ofus, under plebeian names, as a sort of prohibited wares in yonderpaltry hostelry, when we--who, as thou knowest, Marthon" (addressing herdomestic), "never put on our head tire save under a canopy, and upon adais of three degrees--were compelled to attire ourselves, standing onthe simple floor, as if we had been two milkmaids."
Marthon admitted that her lady spoke a most melancholy truth.
"I would that had been the sorest evil, dear kinswoman," said the LadyIsabelle, "I could gladly have dispensed with state."
"But not with society," said the elder Countess, "that, my sweet cousin,was impossible."
"I would have dispensed with all, my dearest kinswoman," answeredIsabelle, in a voice which penetrated to the very heart of her youngconductor and guard, "with all, for a safe and honourable retirement. Iwish not--God knows, I never wished--to occasion war betwixt France andmy native Burgundy, or that lives should be lost for such as I am. Ionly implored permission to retire to the Convent of Marmoutier, or toany other holy sanctuary."
"You spoke then like a fool, my cousin," answered the elder lady, "andnot like a daughter of my noble brother. It is well there is stillone alive who hath some of the spirit of the noble House of Croye. Howshould a high born lady be known from a sunburnt milkmaid, save thatspears are broken for the one, and only hazel poles shattered for theother? I tell you, maiden, that while I was in the very earliest bloom,scarcely older than yourself, the famous Passage of Arms at Haflinghemwas held in my honour, the challengers were four, the assailants so manyas twelve. It lasted three days, and cost the lives of two adventurousknights, the fracture of one backbone, one collarbone, three legs, andtwo arms, besides flesh wounds and bruises beyond the heralds' counting,and thus have the ladies of our House ever been honoured. Ah! had youbut half the heart of your noble ancestry, you would find means at somecourt where ladies' love and fame in arms are still prized, to maintaina tournament at which your hand should be the prize, as was that of yourgreat grandmother of blessed memory, at the spear running of Strasbourg,and thus should you gain the best lance in Europe, to maintain therights of the House of Croye, both against the oppression of Burgundyand the policy of France."
"But, fair kinswoman," answered the younger Countess, "I have beentold by my old nurse, that although the Rhinegrave [formerly a Rhenishprince] was the best lance at the great tournament at Strasbourg, and sowon the hand of my respected ancestor, yet the match was no happyone, as he used often to scold, and sometimes even to beat, my greatgrandmother of blessed memory."
"And wherefore not?" said the elder Countess, in her romantic enthusiasmfor the profession of chivalry, "why should those victorious arms,accustomed to deal blows when abroad, be bound to restrain theirenergies at home? A thousand times rather would I be beaten twice a dayby a husband whose arm was as much feared by others as by me, than bethe wife of a coward, who dared neither to lift hand to his wife, nor toany one else!"
"I should wish you joy of such an active mate, fair aunt," repliedIsabelle, "without envying you, for if broken bones be lovely intourneys, there is nothing less amiable in ladies' bower."
"Nay, but the beating is no necessary consequence of wedding with aknight of fame in arms," said the Lady Hameline, "though it is true thatyour ancestor of blessed memory, the Rhinegrave Gottfried, was somethingrough tempered, and addicted to the use of Rheinwein.
"The very perfect knight is a lamb among ladies, and a lion amonglances. There was Thibault of Montigni--God be with him!--he was thekindest soul alive, and not only was he never so discourteous as to lifthand against his lady, but, by our good dame, he who beat all enemieswithout doors, found a fair foe who could belabour him within.--Well,'t was his own fault--he was one of the challengers at the Passageof Haflinghem, and so well bestirred himself, that, if it had pleasedHeaven, and your grandfather, there might have been a lady of Montigniwho had used his gentle nature more gently."
The Countess Isabelle, who had some reason to dread this Passage ofHaflinghem, it being a topic upon which her aunt was at all timesvery diffuse, suffered the conversation to drop, and Quentin, with thenatural politeness of one who had been gently nurtured dreading lesthis presence might be a restraint on their conversation, rode forward tojoin the guide, as if to ask him some questions concerning their route.
Meanwhile the ladies continued their journey in silence, or in suchconversation as is not worth narrating, until day began to break, and asthey had then been on horseback for several hours, Quentin, anxious lestthey should be fatigued, became impatient to know their distance fromthe nearest resting place.
"I will show it you," answered the guide, "in half an hour."
"And then you leave us to other guidance?" continued Quentin.
"Even so, Seignior Archer," replied the man, "my journeys are alwaysshort and straight. When you and others, Seignior Archer, go by the bow,I always go by the cord."
The moon had by this time long been down, and the lights of dawn werebeginning to spread bright and strong in the east, and to gleam on thebosom of a small lake, on the verge of which they had been riding fora short space of time. This lake lay in the midst of a wide plain,scattered over with single trees, groves and thickets, but whichmight be yet termed open, so that objects began to be discerned withsufficient accuracy. Quentin cast his eye on the person whom he rodebeside, and under the shadow of a slouched overspreading hat, whichresembled the sombrero of a Spanish peasant, he recognised the facetiousfeatures of the same Petit Andre whose fingers, not long since, had, inconcert with those of his lugubrious brother, Trois Eschelles, beenso unpleasantly active about his throat.--Impelled by aversion, notaltogether unmixed with fear (for in his own country the executioner isregarded with almost superstitious horror), which his late narrow escapehad not diminished, Durward instinctively moved his horse's head tothe right, and pressing him at the same time with the spur, made ademi-volte, which separated him eight feet from his hateful companion.
"Ho, ho, ho, ho!" exclaimed Petit Andre, "by Our Lady of the Grave, ouryoung soldier remembers us of old. What! comrade, you bear no malice, Itrust?--every one wins his bread in this country. No man need be ashamedof having come through my hands, for I will do my work with any thatever tied a living weight to a dead tree.--And God hath given me graceto be such a merry fellow withal.--Ha! ha! ha!--I could tell you suchjests I have cracked between the foot of a ladder and the top of thegallows, that, by my halidome, I have been obliged to do my job ratherhastily, for fear the fellows should die with laughing, and so shame mymystery!"
As he thus spoke he edged his horse sideways to regain the intervalwhich the Scot had left between them, saying, at the same time, "Come,Seignior Archer, let there be no unkindness betwixt us!--For my part,I always do my duty without malice, and with a light heart, and I neverlove a man better than when I have put my scant of wind collar about hisneck, to dub him Knight of the order of Saint Patibularius [patibulum,a gibbet], as the Provost's Chaplain, the worthy Father Vaconeldiablo[possibly Baco (Bacchus) el Diablo (the Devil)], is wont to call thePatron Saint of the Provostry."
"Keep back, thou wretched object!" exclaimed Quentin, as the finisher ofthe law again sought to approach him closer, "or I shall be tempted toteach you the distance that should be betwixt men of honour and such anoutcast."
"La you there, how hot you are!" said the fellow, "had you said menof honesty, there had been some savour of truth in it, but for men ofhonour, good lack, I have to deal with them every day, as nearly andclosely as I was about to do business with you.--But peace be with you,and keep your company to yourself. I would have bestowed a flagon ofAuvernat upon you to wash away every unkindness---but 't is like youscorn my courtesy.--Well. Be as churlish as you list--I never quarrelwith my customers--my jerry come tumbles, my merry dancers, my littleplayfellows, as Jacques Butcher says to his lambs--those in fine,who, like your seigniorship, have H. E. M. P. written on theirforeheads.--No, no
, let them use me as they list, they shall have mygood service at last--and yourself shall see, when you next come underPetit Andre's hands, that he knows how to forgive an injury."
So saying, and summing up the whole with a provoking wink, and such aninterjectional tchick as men quicken a dull horse with, Petit Andredrew off to the other side of the path, and left the youth to digestthe taunts he had treated him with, as his proud Scottish stomach bestmight. A strong desire had Quentin to have belaboured him while thestaff of his lance could hold together, but he put a restraint onhis passion, recollecting that a brawl with such a character could becreditable at no time or place, and that a quarrel of any kind, on thepresent occasion, would be a breach of duty, and might involve the mostperilous consequences. He therefore swallowed his wrath at the ill timedand professional jokes of Mons. Petit Andre, and contented himself withdevoutly hoping that they had not reached the ears of his fair charge,on which they could not be supposed to make an impression in favour ofhimself, as one obnoxious to such sarcasms. But he was speedily rousedfrom such thoughts by the cry of both the ladies at once, to "Lookback--look back!--For the love of Heaven look yourself, and us--we arepursued!"
Quentin hastily looked back, and saw that two armed men were in factfollowing them, and riding at such a pace as must soon bring them upwith their party. "It can," he said, "be only some of the Provostrymaking their rounds in the forest.--Do thou look," he said to PetitAndre, "and see what they may be."
Petit Andre obeyed, and rolling himself jocosely in the saddle after hehad made his observations, replied, "These, fair sir, are neither yourcomrades nor mine--neither Archers nor Marshals men--for I think theywear helmets, with visors lowered, and gorgets of the same.--A plagueupon these gorgets of all other pieces of armour!--I have fumbled withthem an hour before I could undo the rivets."
"Do you, gracious ladies," said Durward, without attending to PetitAndre, "ride forward--not so fast as to raise an opinion of your beingin flight, and yet fast enough to avail yourself of the impediment whichI shall presently place between you and these men who follow us."
The Countess Isabelle looked to their guide, and then whispered to heraunt, who spoke to Quentin thus: "We have confidence in your care, fairArcher, and will rather abide the risk of whatever may chance in yourcompany, than we will go onward with that man, whose mien is, we think,of no good augury."
"Be it as you will, ladies," said the youth. "There are but two who comeafter us, and though they be knights, as their arms seem to show, theyshall, if they have any evil purpose, learn how a Scottish gentleman cando his devour in the presence and for the defence of such as you.
"Which of you," he continued, addressing the guards whom he commanded,"is willing to be my comrade, and to break a lance with these gallants?"
Two of the men obviously faltered in resolution, but the third, BertrandGuyot, swore that cap de diou, were they Knights of King Arthur's RoundTable, he would try their mettle, for the honour of Gascony.
While he spoke, the two knights--for they seemed of no less rank--cameup with the rear of the party, in which Quentin, with his sturdyadherent, had by this time stationed himself. They were fully accoutredin excellent armour of polished steel, without any device by which theycould be distinguished.
One of them, as they approached, called out to Quentin, "Sir Squire,give place--we come to relieve you of a charge which is above your rankand condition. You will do well to leave these ladies in our care, whoare fitter to wait upon them, especially as we know that in yours theyare little better than captives."
"In return to your demand, sirs," replied Durward, "know, in the firstplace, that I am discharging the duty imposed upon me by my presentsovereign, and next, that however unworthy I may be, the ladies desireto abide under my protection."
"Out, sirrah!" exclaimed one of the champions, "will you, a wanderingbeggar, put yourself on terms of resistance against belted knights?"
"They are indeed terms of resistance," said Quentin, "since they opposeyour insolent and unlawful aggression, and if there be difference ofrank between us, which as yet I know not, your discourtesy has done itaway. Draw your sword, or if you will use the lance, take ground foryour career."
While the knights turned their horses, and rode back to the distance ofabout a hundred and fifty yards, Quentin, looking to the ladies, bentlow on his saddlebow, as if desiring their favourable regard, and asthey streamed towards him their kerchiefs, in token of encouragement,the two assailants had gained the distance necessary for their charge.
Calling to the Gascon to bear himself like a man, Durward put his steedinto motion, and the four horsemen met in full career in the midst ofthe ground which at first separated them. The shock was fatal to thepoor Gascon, for his adversary, aiming at his face, which was undefendedby a visor, ran him through the eye into the brain, so that he fell deadfrom his horse.
On the other hand, Quentin, though labouring under the samedisadvantage, swayed himself in the saddle so dexterously, that thehostile lance, slightly scratching his cheek, passed over his rightshoulder, while his own spear, striking his antagonist fair upon thebreast, hurled him to the ground. Quentin jumped off, to unhelm hisfallen opponent, but the other knight (who had never yet spoken),seeing the fortune of his companion, dismounted still more speedily thanDurward, and bestriding his friend, who lay senseless, exclaimed, "Inthe name of God and Saint Martin, mount, good fellow, and get thee gonewith thy woman's ware--Ventre Saint Gris, they have caused mischiefenough this morning."
"By your leave, Sir Knight," said Quentin, who could not brook themenacing tone in which this advice was given, "I will first see whomI have had to do with, and learn who is to answer for the death of mycomrade."
"That shalt thou never live to know or to tell," answered the knight."Get thee back in peace, good fellow. If we were fools for interruptingyour passage, we have had the worst, for thou hast done more evil thanthe lives of thee and thy whole hand could repay.--Nay, if thou wilthave it" (for Quentin now drew his sword, and advanced on him), "take itwith a vengeance!"
So saying, he dealt the Scot such a blow on the helmet, as, till thatmoment (though bred where good blows were plenty), he had only readof in romance. It descended like a thunderbolt, beating down the guardwhich the young soldier had raised to protect his head, and, reachinghis helmet of proof, cut it through so far as to touch his hair, butwithout farther injury while Durward, dizzy, stunned, and beaten down onone knee, was for an instant at the mercy of the knight, had itpleased him to second his blow. But compassion for Quentin's youth, oradmiration of his courage, or a generous love of fair play, made himwithhold from taking such advantage: while Durward, collecting himself,sprang up and attacked his antagonist with the energy of one determinedto conquer or die, and at the same time with the presence of mindnecessary for fighting the quarrel out to the best advantage. Resolvednot again to expose himself to such dreadful blows as he had justobtained, he employed the advantage of superior agility, increased bythe comparative lightness of his armour, to harass his antagonist bytraversing on all sides, with a suddenness of motion and rapidityof attack against which the knight--in his heavy panoply--found itdifficult to defend himself without much fatigue.
It was in vain that this generous antagonist called aloud to Quentinthat there now remained no cause of fight betwixt them, and that hewas loath to be constrained to do him injury. Listening only to thesuggestions of a passionate wish to redeem the shame of his temporarydefeat, Durward continued to assail him with the rapidity oflightning--now menacing him with the edge, now with the point of hissword, and ever keeping such an eye on the motions of his opponent, ofwhose superior strength he had had terrible proof, that he was readyto spring backward, or aside, from under the blows of his tremendousweapon.
"Now the devil be with thee for an obstinate and presumptuous fool,"muttered the knight, "that cannot be quiet till thou art knocked on thehead!"
So saying, he changed his mode of fighting, collected himself, as if tosta
nd on the defensive, and seemed contented with parrying, instead ofreturning, the blows which Quentin unceasingly aimed at him, with theinternal resolution that the instant when either loss of breath or anyfalse or careless pass of the young soldier should give an opening, hewould put an end to the fight by a single blow. It is likely he mighthave succeeded in this artful policy, but Fate had ordered it otherwise.
The duel was still at the hottest, when a large party of horse rode up,crying, "Hold, in the King's name!"
Both champions stepped back--and Quentin saw, with surprise, thathis Captain, Lord Crawford, was at the head of the party who had thusinterrupted their combat. There was also Tristan l'Hermite, with two orthree of his followers, making, in all, perhaps twenty horse.