by David Ker
CHAPTER I
The Broken Bough
"What place is there for me on the earth? I would I were dead!"
Startling words, in truth, to hear from any one's lips; and doubly sofrom those of a boy of fourteen, with his whole life before him.
It was a clear, bright evening in the spring of 1334, and the settingsun was pouring a flood of golden glory over the wooded ridges, anddark moors, and wide green meadows, and quaint little villages ofBretagne, or Brittany, then a semi-independent principality ruled byits own duke, and little foreseeing that, barely two centuries later,it was to be united to France once for all.
Over earth and sky brooded a deep, dreamy stillness of perfect repose,broken only by the lowing of cattle from the distant pastures, and thesoft, sweet chime of the vesper-bell from the unseen church tower,hidden by the still uncleared wood, through one solitary gap in whichwere seen the massive grey battlements of Motte-Brun Castle, theresidence of the local "seigneur," or lord of the manor. A rabbit satupright in its burrow to clean its furry face. A squirrel, halfway upthe pillar-like stem of a tall tree, paused a moment to look down withits small, bright, restless eye; and a tiny bird, perched on a boughabove, broke forth in a blithe carol.
But the soothing influence of this universal peace brought no calm tothe excited lad who was striding up and down a small open space in theheart of the wood, stamping fiercely ever and anon, and muttering, halfaloud, words that seemed less like any connected utterance than likethe almost unconscious bursting forth of thoughts too torturing to becontrolled.
"Is it my blame that I was born thus ill-favoured? Yet mine own fatherand mother gloom upon me and shrink away from me as from one under banof holy Church, or taken red-handed in mortal sin. What have I donethat mine own kith and kin should deal with me as with a leper?"
In calling himself ill-favoured, the poor boy had only spoken thetruth; for the features lighted up by the sinking sun, as he turned hisface toward it, were hideous enough for one of the demons with whichthese woods were still peopled by native superstition.
His head was unnaturally large, and covered with coarse, black, bristlyhair, which, worn long according to the custom of all men of good birthin that age, tossed loosely over his huge round shoulders like abison's mane. His light-green eyes, small and fierce as those of asnake, looked out from beneath a low, slanting forehead garnished withbushy black eyebrows, which were bent just then in a frown as dark as athunder-cloud. His nose was so flat that it almost seemed to turninward, and its wide nostrils gaped like the yawning gargoyles of acathedral. His large, coarse mouth, the heavy jaw of which was worthyof a bulldog, was filled with strong, sharp teeth, which, as he gnashedthem in a burst of rage, sent a sudden flash of white across hisswarthy face like lightning in a moonless sky.
His figure was quite as strange as his face. Low of stature andclumsily built, his vast and almost unnatural breadth of shoulder anddepth of chest gave him the squat, dwarfish form assigned by popularbelief to the deformed "Dwergar" (earth-dwarfs) who then figuredprominently in the legends of all Western Europe. His length of arm wasso great that his hands reached below his knees, while his lower limbsseemed as much too short as his arms were too long. In a word, had ahalf-grown black bear been set on its hind legs, and arrayed in therich dress of a fourteenth-century noble, it would have looked justlike this strange boy.
All at once the excited lad stopped short in his restless pacing, and,as if feeling the need of venting in some violent bodily exertion thefrenzy that boiled within him, snatched from its sheath his only weapon(a broad-bladed hunting-knife, half cutlass and half dirk), and withone slash cut half through the thickest part of a large bough just overhis head.
His arm was raised to repeat the blow and sever the branch entirely,when a new thought struck him, and, flinging down his weapon, he seizedthe bough with both hands, and threw his whole strength into a tug thatseemed capable of dislodging not merely the branch, but the tree itself.
The tough wood quivered, cracked, and gave way, and a secondeffort--which hung the boy-athlete's low, broad forehead with beads ofmoisture, and made the veins of his strong hands stand out likecords--wrenched the bough away altogether.
For a moment the young champion's harsh but striking featuresbrightened into a smile of joyful pride, natural enough to one who feltthat he possessed surpassing bodily strength in an age when bodilystrength and prowess were the most valued of all qualities. But thesmile faded instantly, and the sullen gloom settled down on his darkface again, more heavily than before.
"Methinks yon gay cousins of mine," muttered he, with a grim laugh,"would be hard put to it to do the like, though they call me dwarf andlubbard, and look askance at me as if I were a viper or a toad. I feel,in truth, that though I am not one to wear the dainty trappings of acourt-gallant and bask in ladies' smiles, I have it in me to approvemyself a tried man-at-arms on a stricken field, and make my namedreaded by the foes of my country and liege-lord. But what avails it,if I may never find a chance to show what I can do?"
At that very moment, as if in direct answer to the bitter query thatthe fiery youth had unconsciously spoken aloud, a clear, sweet voicerose from amid the clustering leaves, singing as follows:--
"The knight rode forth on his dapple-grey steed Thro' the sunshine of early morn; And he was aware of a cry of woe To his ear by the breezes borne.
"He turned his eye to the miry slough That ran beside his way, And he was aware of a leper man Half-sunk in the mire that lay.
"His fingers were parting joint from joint, His skin was yellow as corn; More countless the sores in his rotting flesh Than buds on the milk-white thorn.
"His hairless head was as bare and white As the boughs of a blasted tree; A fouler sight than that leper-man No mortal eye could see.
"'For Christ's dear sake, Sir Knight,' quoth he, 'I pray thee reach thine hand, And draw me forth, or ere I sink, Unto the firmer land.'
"Nor quailed nor wavered that valiant knight; 'For Christ's dear sake let it be!' And out he reached his strong right hand, And the leper-man forth drew he.
"Then the leper-man's face grew bright as the sun When he smiles on the earth at morn; And his voice was soft as the summer breeze That stirs the ripening corn.
"And the knight, who had bowed not for prince or peer, Bent low as to holy rood, For well he wist 'twas our Lord Himself Who there before him stood.
"'I give thee My blessing,' our Saviour said, As the warrior bowed his knee; 'What thou didst to the poor and outcast man, Thou hast done it unto Me.
"'Henceforth shall men call thee My chosen knight, And best of all knights alive; And all that thou doest from this day forth, Whate'er it be, shall thrive.
"'For dearer to Heaven is one pitying word Than rich minsters or abbey-lands broad; And the path of kindness to suffering man Is the nearest way to God!'"