by David Ker
CHAPTER XX
Doomed
At sight of that well-known face a thrill of superstitious terrorpulsed through the savage band, in all but the very worst of whom thefeelings and beliefs of their childhood had not been whollyextinguished even by a life of rapine and crime. They still retainedtheir instinctive awe of the Church and all belonging to it, and fearedthe grey frock far more than the coat of mail.
But their present panic had another and a deeper source. Now that thesefierce and lawless robbers, who were wont to spread terror whereverthey came, had at last met a man who was not afraid of them, they atonce began to be afraid of him. One who could thus venture among themalone and unarmed must be strong in the possession of some supernaturalpower; and they shrank from this solitary and defenceless old man as ifhe had an armed host at his back.
Mingling with this terror came another of a different kind. Many ofthem had heard Croquart utter his cruel vow to torture to death thefirst man who passed; and the first man was the "Pilgrim of God"himself! Would the savage dare to lay hand on him? and if he did, whatthen?
The ruffians began to whisper uneasily to each other, and to castnervous glances at their ferocious chief, who had not yet caught sightof the new-comer.
But he for whom they feared seemed to have no fear for himself. Quietlyand steadfastly he went forward through the terrible camp, right up toits grim leader, whom he singled out at once; and meeting withoutflinching the glare of mingled amazement and fury cast at him by thearch-murderer's fiery eyes, said, mildly but firmly--
"Peace be with thee, my son."
"That is as who should say 'Starvation be with thee!'" growled theruffian. "What have we to do with peace?"
"What, indeed?" said the monk, in a tone so sad and solemn that eventhe soulless brute whom he addressed found no reply.
By this time all the bandits were flocking to the spot, and hundreds ofsilent and terrified spectators were gathered round the two men as theystood facing each other.
Then, amid that hush of awe-stricken expectation, Brother Michael spoke.
"Hear me, unhappy man, for thine own sake! Thou hast shed seas ofinnocent blood, and blighted the homes and harvests of the poor, androbbed holy churches, and profaned the sacred vessels of the altar; andnow am I sent by Heaven to warn thee to repent of thy misdeeds ere itbe too late; for lo! even now is God's judgment hanging over thy head,ready to fall and crush thee!"
Croquart fairly gasped with amazement and rage. Never yet had theboldest and fiercest of the armed ruffians around dared even tocontradict him; and here was a solitary man, aged, feeble, unarmed,bearding him in his own camp! What could this mean?
For one moment a thrill of vague terror shook the robber's iron heart;and then, as usual with such base and brutal natures, he hastened toright himself in his own eyes for what he deemed a weakness by a freshburst of blustering fury.
"Prate not to me, shaveling, but bethink thee how thou wilt face thedoom that hangs over thy head! Know'st thou I have vowed to set up as atarget for our arrows the next man who passed, and thou art he? Howlik'st thou that?"
"I cannot believe," said the old man, as calmly as ever, "that thoucouldst do so base a deed as harm an aged man who stands unarmed beforethee, and hath done thee no wrong. But if thou wilt do it, work thywill. I fear thee not. Thou canst but kill the body, and God will giveme strength to die."
Croquart stamped till the earth flew up in showers from beneath hisarmed heel. Like other such monsters, he loved cruelty for its ownsake, and enjoyed as a luxury the agony of his victims at the prospectof torture and death; but when, as now, he had to do with a man who hadno fear of death, and seemed rather eager to be tortured thanotherwise, the sport lost all its savour.
All at once a new thought struck him, and, turning hastily to the oldmonk, he said--
"From what place didst thou come hither to us?"
"From Carcassonne," said the monk. "I heard thou wert here, and came tovisit thee."
The look of dismay deepened visibly on the faces of the listeningrobbers as they heard this aged and solitary man talk so calmly of"coming to visit" one whose very name was the terror of the wholedistrict. Surely this marvellous stranger, whom nothing could daunt,must be a saint--perhaps the great St. Denis of France himself!
But the words that acted so powerfully on the rest passed almostunnoticed by Croquart, who heard only the one word "Carcassonne."
"Thou hast been in the town, then," he cried, "and hast seen thestrength of the defences and of the garrison? Hark ye, old mole; on onecondition I give thee thy life. Aid us to take the town, and, once weare in it, thou shalt go free. Refuse, and thou diest!"
"I refuse," said the old man, without a moment's hesitation.
A quick gasp of terrified amazement hissed through the tomb-likesilence, while Croquart stood for an instant literally dumb with fury.
"Ho, fellows!" he roared at last, "bind him to the nearest tree, andchoose out your sharpest arrows!"
But, for the first time, his savage followers, instead of obeying, hungback with an audible murmur, and one or two slunk away outright.
"Cowards!" yelled the furious bandit. "Do ye call yourselves men, andlet the prate of an old dotard scare ye all? I will bind him, then, ifnone else dare; and Satan himself shall not deliver him out of myhands!"
"But God may," said the aged hero, simply.
"We shall see," retorted Croquart, with a ferocious laugh. "I willshoot the first arrow at thee, and let God save thee if He can!"
His arm was extended to clutch his unresisting prisoner, when a cry ofwonder and alarm from those on the outskirts of the crowd, instantlyechoed by the whole throng, made him turn just in time for a verystartling sight.
On the crest of the ridge above, as if in direct answer to theblasphemous challenge, had just appeared a single rider in full armour,so suddenly, and with such an appearance of actually issuing from thesunset glory which played around him, that he seemed to the startledrobbers to be descending among them from the sky. His armour, from headto heel, was all one glow of deep, burning red, as if he were actuallyclothed with fire; and, in the light of the sinking sun, horse andrider seemed dilated to gigantic size, far beyond that of mortal beings.
This time the terror of the brigands was so marked and universal thatit infected even their brutal leader, whose swarthy face paled to thevery lips as he heard his men mutter tremulously--
"The archangel St. Michael, come down from heaven to avenge hisnamesake!"
Such was Croquart's own secret conviction; and this speedy and terribleanswer to his impious defiance changed the ruffian's drunken fury todismay.
In fact, the descent of a saint or angel in bodily form to championright and redress wrong was, to all the witnesses of this strangescene, not merely possible, but just what was to be expected. Theconstant intervention of supernatural beings in natural affairs was asfirm and universal a belief in that age as in the days of Homer; andthe wild plunderers, terrified as they were by this celestialapparition, never thought of being surprised at it. Their chief hadrashly challenged Heaven to snatch his prey from him, and Heaven hadtaken him at his word.
Mute and motionless, the armed hundreds stood gazing as the fierywarrior moved slowly toward them with braced shield and levelled spear,seeming to grow larger every moment. On he came, uttering no war-cry,speaking no word, and adding by this ghostly silence a tenfold horrorto his apparition.
But as he drew nearer his aspect began to lose something of itsterrors. His stature dwindled to that of a common man, his giant steednow seemed no larger than an ordinary horse, and the red glow of hisarmour was seen to be due not to celestial fire, but to the play of thesunset on the rust that coated it.
But all this did nothing to allay the superstitious fears of thebandits. If Monseigneur St. Michael did not think it worth while toavenge this audacious defiance himself, might he not have sent to do itfor him some good knight who
had been long dead--say one ofCharlemagne's Paladins? As the dreaded stranger approached, all fellback to right and left in silent awe, leaving Croquart and the captivemonk standing alone amid the spellbound circle.
Within a few paces of the robber-captain the unknown champion haltedsuddenly, and at last broke the dreadful silence.
"Who dares lay hand on God's servant?" cried he, in a deep, sternvoice. "This holy man is no captive for such as you. I will lead himhence forthwith."
"There go two words to that bargain," retorted Croquart, who, havingbegun to realize that he had to do with a mortal being after all, wasfast regaining his wonted swaggering insolence. "Who art thou, fellow,to dare to thrust thyself into my camp, and speak so boldly of settingfree mine own captive? Here be cords enow to bind thee as well as him,and our shafts will find their way through thy coat-of-plate as easilyas through his grey frock."
"Silence, dog!" thundered the unknown, who was no other than Sir Aluredde Claremont, fulfilling his vow of expiation. "If thou art not acoward as well as a thief and a murderer, I defy thee, in this holyman's quarrel, to meet me with equal arms on this spot, man to man andlance to lance; and may God defend the right!"
Foaming with rage, the savage leader roared for his war-horse, and in atrice sat erect in his saddle with levelled lance, fiercely confrontinghis challenger.
The cowed robbers held their breath to watch the encounter, interrified expectation of they knew not what. But how that encounter wasto end neither they nor any man living could have foreseen.
Ere the signal for the charge could be given, Croquart's noble horse(which had borne him gallantly through countless frays) was all at onceseen to give a violent start, and began to rear and plunge as ifmaddened with sudden terror. Then, heedless of its rider's cruel spurs,and the grasp of his iron hand on its bridle, it gave one franticbound, and tore away straight toward the spot where the curving ridgeended abruptly in a sheer precipice of more than a hundred feet.
The cry of horror from the lookers-on was barely heard when, with oneheadlong rush, horse and rider were seen to vanish over the brink ofthe abyss. There was a stifled cry, a dull crash, and man and beast laytogether at the foot of the precipice, a crushed, shapeless, mangledmass.
"It is the hand of Heaven!" said Brother Michael, solemnly. "May Godhave mercy on his soul!"
But the pitying words were drowned in the clamorous cries with whichthe terrified robbers threw themselves at the feet of this fearful man,who they firmly believed had destroyed their leader by supernaturalpower, and was able to bring down at any moment the same swift andcertain destruction on themselves.
"Have mercy and spare us, holy father, and we will do what penance thouwilt."
"Kneel not to me, your fellow-sinner, my children," said the old man,kindly. "Repent of your misdeeds, and I will tell ye how ye may proveyour repentance sincere, and do good service to God and man. Beyond yonmountains" (and he pointed to the dim and far-off outline of the blue,shadowy Pyrenees) "your Christian brethren of Spain are warring for thecause of God against the Moorish unbelievers, hard pressed and sorebeset. Go ye thither to aid the warriors of the Cross; and he among youwho seeks reward shall find rich spoil there, and he who hath higherthoughts shall win the favour of Heaven. Children, will ye go?"
The last words rang out like a trumpet-blast, and with one voice thefierce men answered--
"We will! we will!"
"Come thou with us, father, and be our captain!" shouted ablack-bearded Gascon giant, in a voice like the bellow of a bull, "andif any man dare cross thee, I'll cut him to joints with my own hand!"
"I thank you right heartily for your goodwill to me, my sons," said themonk, as the faintest glimmer of a smile flitted over his thin, wornface; "but my weapons are not of this world, and he who shall lead yemust fight as well as pray. Heaven itself hath sent you a captain inyour need, and here he stands."
And he pointed to Sir Alured, who, not yet recovered from hisstupefaction at this sudden and fearful tragedy, sat motionless on hishorse like an armed statue.
This unlooked-for election was received with clamorous applause.
"Well chosen, holy father!" cried the big Gascon. "In truth, he whocould venture singly into our camp to rescue thee, and face hundredsall alone, must be a captain worth following; and follow him we will,through fire and water. Long live our captain!"
"Long live our captain!" echoed hundreds of voices, with a mighty shout.
At that shout, Alured's haggard face lighted up for a moment with allthe fire of former days; but it clouded again at once, and he repliedsadly--
"Right glad should I be to lead ye in a good cause; but there liesheavy guilt on my soul, and till that guilt is confessed and absolved(if absolved it may be), I am not worthy to lead Christian men in thecause of God."
"It is well spoken, my son," said the monk; "and he that humblethhimself, as thou hast done, shall be exalted. Come hither with meapart, and tell thy tale freely."
Briefly and clearly, De Claremont told of the fatal combat on Calaissands, the fall of his brother Hugo by his hand, and his own headlongflight from the accursed spot. More he could not tell, for (perhaps inmercy) all that had followed was blotted out as if it had never been,and of what had befallen in the interval, up to his encounter with DuGuesclin, he had no recollection whatever.
The good old man heard the dismal tale with close attention, and, as itended, laid his thin hand on the penitent's bowed head with thetenderness of a father.
"I say not that thou hast not sinned deeply, my son," said he, gently;"but, thank God, thou art free from the brand of Cain, for not inenvious malice and of set purpose, like that wicked one, hast thouslain thy brother. It was a hasty quarrel, fought out with equal arms,and he might well have taken thy life instead. Sinner thou may'st be,but murderer art thou none. This day will I myself cleanse the rustfrom thine armour, in token that the Evil One hath no power over thee;for God sends not the bondmen of Satan to rescue the servants ofHeaven, as thou hast done this day. Go forth, and lead these mensouthward with a good courage; for know that yonder in the south somegreat and unthought-of blessing awaits thee, though it hath not beengiven me to know what it shall be. Go, then, and God be with thee!"