Lady Sybil's Choice: A Tale of the Crusades

by Emily Sarah Holt

  *CHAPTER XI.*

  _*THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM*_*.*

  "It was but unity of place Which made me dream I ranked with him." --TENNYSON.

  Here we are, safe in the Holy City, after a hurried and mostuncomfortable journey. All the quiet is assuredly gone now. For theHoly City is full of tumult--cries, and marchings, and musters, andclashing of arms--from morning till night. Lady Judith, looking as calmas ever, received us with a blessing, and a soft, glad light in hereyes, which told that she was pleased to have us back. The Patriarchand the Master of the Temple have not yet arrived. Guy thinks they maytarry at Acre with Count Raymond, and come on in his train.

  The Lord de Clifford has come from England, by way of Jaffa, with theanswer of King Henry the father. It seems that the Patriarch actuallytook with him the keys of the Holy City and the blessed Sepulchre. I amastonished that Count Raymond should have entrusted them to him. Morethan this, they travelled by way of Rome, and through their wickedmisrepresentations obtained letters from the Holy Father, urging KingHenry to take on himself this charge. King Henry was holding Court atReading when they came to him, and the Patriarch says he was moved totears at their account of the miserable state of the Holy Land. (Well,I am not going to deny the misery; but I do say it is Count Raymond'sfault, and that if matters had been left in Guy's hands, they wouldnever have come to this pass.) King Henry, however, would not give hisanswer at once; but bade them wait till he had convoked his greatcouncil, which sat at Clerkenwell on the eighteenth of March in lastyear. The decision of the Parliament was that in the interests ofEngland the offer ought to be refused.

  "Well!" said Guy, "as a mere question of political wisdom, that isdoubtless right; for, apart from the pleasure of God, it would be theruin of England to have the Holy Land clinging round her neck like amill-stone. Yet remember, Lord Robert the Courthose never prosperedafter he had refused this crown of the world. He impiously blew out thetaper which had been lighted by miracle; and think what his end was!"

  "But dost thou think, my Lord," asked Lady Sybil, looking up, "that hemeant it impiously? I have always thought his words so beautiful--thathe was not worthy to wear a crown of gold in the place where our Lordhad worn for us the crown of thorns."

  "Very beautiful, Lady," said Guy a little drily, "if he had not heardjust before the conference of the death of his brother, King William theRed."

  Well!--when King Henry gave his answer, what did the Patriarch, but askthat one of his sons might be substituted,--and Guy thinks he speciallyindicated the Count of Poitou.[#] Guy says there are greatpossibilities in our young Count; but Amaury sneers at the idea.However, the King and the Parliament alike declined to accept in thename of any of the Princes, seeing none of themselves were present: andthe Patriarch had to content himself with a promise of aid alone. KingHenry took him in his train to Normandy, and after celebrating the holyEaster at Rouen, they had an interview with the French King atVaudreuil. Both the Kings promised help, swearing on the souls of eachother;[#] and many nobles, both French and English, took the holy cross.It is hoped that the King of France and the Count of Poitou may lead anarmy hither in a few months.

  [#] Richard Coeur-de-Lion, whose reputation was yet to be made.

  [#] The usual oath of monarchs in solemn form.

  "If we can manage to conclude a truce meanwhile, and they do not comehere to find us all slaughtered or prisoners to the Paynim," says Guy."Great bodies move slowly; and kings and armies are of thatdescription."

  Saladin has taken Neapolis! Our scouts bring us word that he isravaging and burning all the land as he marches, and he has turnedtowards the Holy City. Almost any morning, we may be awoke from sleepwith his dreadful magic engine sounding in our ears. Holy Mary and allthe saints, pray to the good God for His poor servants!

  And not a word comes from the Regent. Four several messengers Guy hassent, by as many different routes, in the hope that at least one of themmay reach Acre, earnestly urging him to send instructions. We do noteven know the condition of matters at Acre. The King and the Regent maythemselves be prisoners. Oh, what is to be done?

  Guy says that whatever may become of him, the kingdom must not be lost:and if ten days more pass without news of the Regent, he will parleywith Saladin, and if possible conclude a truce on his ownresponsibility. I feel so afraid for Guy! I believe if Count Raymondcould find a handle, he would destroy him without mercy. Guy himselfseems to perceive that the responsibility he is ready to assume involvesserious peril.

  "Nevertheless, my Lady's inheritance must not be lost," he says.

  I asked Lady Judith this morning if she were not dreadfully frightenedof Saladin. They say he eats Christian children, and sometimes maidens,when the children run short.

  "If I felt no alarm, I should scarcely be a woman, Helena," said she."But I took my fear to the Lord, as King David did. 'What time I amafraid,' he says, 'I will trust in Thee.' And I had my answer lastnight."

  "Oh!" said I. "What was it, if it please you, holy Mother?"

  She lifted her head with a light in the grey eyes.

  "'I am, I am thy Comforter. Know whom thou art, afraid of a dying man,and of a son of men who wither like grass: and thou forgettest God thyMaker, the Maker of the heaven and Foundation-Layer of the earth, andfearest ever, every day, the face of the fury of thine oppressor....And now, where is the fury of thine oppressor?'"

  "Did the good God speak to you in vision, holy Mother?"

  "No, Helena. He spake to me as He does to thee--in His Word."

  I thought it would have been a great deal more satisfactory if she hadbeen told in vision.

  "But how do you know, holy Mother," I ventured to say, "that wordswritten in holy Scripture, ever so long ago, have something to do withyou now?"

  "God's Word is living, my child," she said; "it is not, like all otherbooks, a dead book. His Word who is alive for evermore, endureth forever. Moreover, there is a special promise that the Holy Spirit shallbring God's words to the remembrance of His servants, as they need. Andwhen they come from Him, they come living and with power."

  "Then you think, holy Mother, that the Paynim will be driven back?"

  "I do not say that, my child. But I think that the God who turned backSennacherib is alive yet: and the Angel who smote the camp of theAssyrians can do it again if his Lord command him. And if not--no realmischief, Helena,--no real harm--can happen to him or her who abidethunder the shadow of God."

  "But we might be killed, holy Mother!"

  "We might," she said, so quietly that I looked at her in amazement.

  "Holy Mother!" I exclaimed.

  "Thou dost not understand our Lord's words, Helena!--'And they shallkill some of you, ... and a hair from the head of you shall not belost.'"

  "Indeed I do not," said I bluntly.

  "And I cannot make thee do so," she added gently. "God must do it."

  But why does He not do it? Have I not asked Him, over and over again,to make me understand? I suppose something is in the way, and somethingwhich is my fault. But how am I to get rid of it when I do not evenknow what it is?

  The ten days are over, and no word comes from the Regent. Guy hasassumed, as Vice-Regent, the command of the Holy City. Of course he isthe person to do it, as Lady Sybil's husband. Our scouts report thatSaladin is marching through the pass of Gerizim. Guy has sent out atrumpeter with a suitable armed escort, to sound a parley, and invitethe Paynim to meet with him and arrange for a truce at Lebonah. Untilthe trumpeter returns, we do not know whether this effort will succeed.

  Lady Sybil, I can see, is excessively anxious, and very uneasy lest, ifGuy go to parley with Saladin, the wicked Paynim should use sometreachery towards him.

  "It is God's will!" she said; but I saw tears in her sweet eyes. "Thebattle, and the toil, and the triumph for the men: the waiting, andweeping, and praying for the women. Perhaps, in their way, the humblebedeswomen d
o God's will as much as the warrior knights."

  The trumpeter returned last night, with a message from Saladin almostworthy of a Christian knight. It seems very strange that Paynims shouldbe capable of courtesy.[#]

  [#] A most expressive word in the Middle Ages, not restricted, as now,civility, but including honourable sentiments and generous conduct.

  Saladin is willing to conclude a truce, and will meet Guy at Lebonah todo so; but it is to be for six months only, and Guy says the terms aresomewhat hard. However, it is the best thing he can do: and as theRegent maintains his obstinate silence, something must be done. So faras our envoys could learn, the Paynim army has not been near Acre, andonly crossed the Jordan some thirty miles lower down. It appears clear,therefore, that the Regent might have answered if he would.

  Guy and Amaury set out yesterday morning for Lebonah to meet Saladin.It is two or three days' journey from the Holy City, and allowing threedays more for conference, it must be ten days at least ere they canreturn.

  I wander about the house, and can settle to nothing. Lady Sybil sits atwork, but I believe she weeps more than she works. Eschine's embroiderygrows quietly. I have discovered that she carries her heart out ofsight.

  We were talking this morning--I hardly know how the subject cameup--about selfishness. Lady Isabel said, with a toss of her head, thatshe was sure no reasonable being could call her selfish. (Now I couldnot agree with her, for I have always thought her very much so.) LadyJudith quietly asked her in what she thought selfishness consisted.

  "In being stingy and miserly, of course," said she.

  "Well, but stingy of what?" responded Lady Judith. "I think people makea great mistake when they restrict selfishness merely to being miserlywith money. I should say that the man is unselfish who will givewillingly that which he counts precious. But that means very differentthings to different people."

  "I wonder what it means to us five," said I.

  Lady Judith looked round with a smile. "I almost think I could tellyou," said she.

  "Oh, do!" we all said but Lady Isabel.

  "Well, to me," answered Lady Judith, "it means, submitting,--becausesome one wishes it who has a right to my submission, or else as a matterof Christian love--to do any thing in a way which I think inferior,absurd, or not calculated to effect the end proposed. In other words,my ruling sin is self-satisfaction."

  We all exclaimed against this conclusion: but she maintained that it wasso.

  "Then," she continued, "to Sybil, it means depriving herself of herlord's society, either for his advantage or for that of some one else."

  Lady Sybil smiled and blushed. "Then my ruling sin----?" she saidinterrogatively.

  "Nay, I did not undertake to draw that inference in any case but myown," said Lady Judith with an answering smile.

  We all--except Lady Isabel--begged that she would do it for us. Sheseemed, I thought, to assent rather reluctantly.

  "You will not like it," said she. "And if you drew the inference foryourselves, you would be more likely to attend to the lesson conveyed."

  "Oh, but we might do it wrong," I said.

  Lady Judith laughed. "Am I, then, so infallible that I cannot do itwrong?" said she. "Well, Sybil, my dear, if thou wouldst know, I thinkthy tendency--I do not say thy passion, but thy tendency--is toidolatry."

  "Oh!" cried Lady Sybil, looking quite distressed.

  "But now, misunderstand me not," pursued Lady Judith. "Love is notnecessarily idolatry. When we love the creature _more_ than theCreator--when, for instance, thou shalt care more to please thy lordthan to please the Lord--then only is it idolatry. Therefore, I use theword tendency; I trust it is not more with thee.--Well, then, withIsabel"----

  Lady Isabel gave a toss of her head,--a gesture to which she is verymuch addicted.

  "With Isabel," continued Lady Judith, "unselfishness would take the formof resigning her own ease or pleasure to suit the convenience ofanother, Her temptation, therefore, is to indolence and self-pleasing.With Helena"----

  I pricked up my ears. What was I going to hear?

  "With Helena," said she, smiling on me, "it would be, I think, to fulfilsome duty, though those whom she loved might misunderstand her and thinkher silly for it."

  "Then what is my besetting sin, holy Mother?"

  "Pride of intellect, I think," she answered; "very nearly the same as myown."

  "Holy Mother, you have left out Dame Eschine!" said Lady Isabel rathersharply.

  "Have I?" said Lady Judith. "Well, my children, you must ask the Lordwherein Eschine's selfishness lies, for I cannot tell. I dare not denyits existence; I believe all sinners have it in some form. Only, inthis case, _I_ cannot detect it."

  Eschine looked up with an expression of utter amazement.

  "Holy Mother!" she exclaimed. "It seemed to me, as you went on, that Ihad every one of those you mentioned."

  Lady Judith's smile was very expressive.

  "Dear child," she said, "these are not my words,--'Blessed are the poorin spirit; for theirs is the kingdom of the heavens.'"

  Does she think Eschine the best of us all? Is she? Dear me! I nevershould have thought it.

  "Well!" said Lady Isabel, with a sort of snort, and another toss, "I amquite sure that I have not one of those faults you mentioned."

  "Ah, my child!" responded Lady Judith. "Take heed of the Phariseespirit--Eschine, what wouldst thou say was thy besetting sin?"

  "I really cannot tell, I have so many!" answered Eschine modestly. "ButI sometimes think that it may be--perhaps--a want of meekness andpatience."

  I stared at her in astonishment.

  "Well, thank the saints, I am in no want of patience!" said Lady Isabel."And if any one knew all I have to try it"----

  I turned and looked at her, if possible, in astonishment still greater.

  Really, how very, very little, people do know themselves! If there be apatient creature in this world, it is Eschine: and if there be animpatient one, it is Lady Isabel.

  I wonder whether I know myself? I do not think I should have set myselfdown as proud of my intellect. But we Lusignans always have hadbrains--except Amaury; he has stepped out of the ranks. And I don't likepeople to disagree with me, and contradict me, nor to behave as if theythought I had no sense. That is true enough. I suppose I must beproud.

  And yet, it cannot be wrong to know that one has brains. What is pride?Where does the knowledge end, and the sin begin? Oh dear! how is oneever to know?

  If two and two would only make four in every thing! Or is it that onemakes mistakes one's self in the adding-up?

  Lady Judith asked me this morning if I was vexed with her yesterday, forwhat she said of me.

  "Oh no!" I answered at once. "But I did not know that I was proud of myintellect. I think I knew that I was proud of my rank."

  "Thou art right there, my child," she said. "Yet I fear the pride ofintellect is more likely to harm thee, just because thou art lessconscious of it."

  "Holy Mother," said I, "do you think my sister Eschine the best of us?"

  "We human creatures, Helena, are poor judges of each other. But if thouwouldst know--so far as I am able to judge--I think the two holiestpersons in all this Palace are Eschine and thine old Margarita."

  "Better than Lady Sybil!" I cried.

  "I do not undervalue Sybil. She is good and true; and I believe shedoes earnestly desire to serve God. But it seems to me that the mostChrist-like spirit I know is not Sybil, but Eschine."

  I must think about it, and study Eschine. I certainly made a sadmistake when I thought there was nothing in her. But the holiest personin the house! That seems very strange to me. I believe, now, that whatI took for absence of feeling is a mixture of great humility andprofound self-control. But the queerest thing is, that I think shereally loves Amaury. And how any creature can love Amaury is a puzzleto me. For no being with an atom of brains can look up to him: and howcan you love one whom you cannot respect? Besid
es which, he evidentlydespises Eschine--I believe he does all women--and he scolds and snubsher from morning to night for everything she does or does not do. Suchtreatment as that would wear my love in holes--If it were possible forme ever to feel any for such an animal as Amaury. If I were Eschine, Ishould be anxious to get as far away from him as I could, and should bedelighted when he relieved me of his company. Yet I do think Eschinereally misses him, and will be honestly glad when he comes back, It isvery unaccountable.

  Our anxieties are all turned to rejoicing at once. Guy and Amauryreturned last night, having concluded a six months' truce with Saladin:and Eschine had the pleasure--I am sure she felt it a very greatone--when Amaury entered her chamber, of placing in his arms the boy forwhom he had so fervently longed, who was born three days before theycame back. Little Hugues--Amaury says that must be his name--seems asfine a child as Heloise, and as likely to live. Amaury was about aspleased as it is in his nature to be; but he always seems to have hiseyes fixed on the wormwood of life rather than the honey.

  "Thou hast shown some sense at last!" he said; and Eschine received thisvery doubtful commendation as if it had been the most delightfulcompliment. Then Amaury turned round, and snapped at me, because I couldnot help laughing at his absurdity.

  I asked Marguerite this evening what she thought was her chief fault.

  "Ha!--the good God knows," she said. "It is very difficult to tellwhich of one's faults is the worst."

  "But what dost thou think?" said I.

  "Well," she answered, "I think that my chief fault is--with alldeference--the same as that of my Damoiselle: and that is pride. Onlythat we are proud of different things."

  "And of what art thou proud, Margot?" asked I laughingly, but ratherstruck to find that she had hit on the same failing (in me) as LadyJudith.

  "Ha! My Damoiselle may well ask. And I cannot tell her. What is orhas an old villein woman, ignorant and foolish, to provoke pride? I onlyknow it is there. It does not fasten on one thing more than another,but there it is. And pride is a very subtle sin, if it please myDamoiselle. If I had nothing in the world to be proud of but that I wasthe ugliest woman in it, I believe I could be proud of that."

  I laughed. "Well, and wherein lies my pride, Margot?" said I, wishfulto see whether she altogether agreed with Lady Judith.

  "Can I see into the inmost heart of my Damoiselle? It is like a shut-upcoffer, this human heart. I can only look on the outside, I. But on theoutside, I see two things. My Damoiselle is noble, and she is clever.And she knows both."

  "Which is the worse, Margot?"

  "Ha! Both are bad enough, to make pride. But this I think: that even aking can never fancy himself so noble as the good God; yet a good manyof us think ourselves quite as wise."

  "O Margot!--who could think that?"

  "Does my Damoiselle herself never think that she could arrange mattersbetter than the good God is ordering them? What is that, but to say inour hearts, 'I am the wiser'?"

  It is very queer, how Lady Judith and Marguerite always do think alike.

  "Margot, who wouldst thou say was the holiest woman in this house?"

  The answer was unhesitating.

  "I do not know; I can only guess. But if my Damoiselle wishes me toguess--the noble Lady Judith, and Dame Eschine."

  How very odd!

  "When I asked thee once before, Margot, thou didst not mention Eschineat all."

  "Let my Damoiselle pardon me. I did not know enough of her then. Andshe is not one to know in a minute. Some are like an open book, quicklyread: and others are like a book in a strange tongue, of which one knowsbut little, and they have to be spelt out; and some, again, are like alocked book, which you cannot read at all without the key. DameEschine, if my Damoiselle pleases, is the book in the strange tongue;but the book is very good, and quite worth the trouble to learn it."

  "Where didst thou find such a comparison, Margot? Thou canst not read."

  "I? Ha!--no. But I can see others do it."

  "And what kind of book am I, Margot?"

  "Ha!--my Damoiselle is wide, wide open."

  "And the Lady Sybil?" asked I, feeling much amused.

  "Usually, open; but she can turn the key if she will."

  I was rather surprised. "And Count Guy?"

  "Quite as wide open as my Damoiselle."

  "Then where dost thou find thy locked book, Margot?"

  I was still more astonished at the answer.

  "If my Damoiselle pleases,--the Lady Isabel."

  "O Margot! I think she is quite easy to read."

  "I am mistaken," said Marguerite with quiet persistence, "if myDamoiselle has yet read one page of that volume."

  "Now I should have called the Regent a locked book," said I.

  "Hardly, if my Damoiselle pleases. There is a loose leaf which peepsout."

  "Well, that romance is not a pleasant one," said I.

  "Pleasant? Ha!--no. But it is long, and one cannot see the end of thestory before one comes to it."

  At last, a letter has come from the Regent.

  It is quite different to what I expected. He approves of all that Guyhas done, and more,--he actually thanks him for acting so promptly.(Are we misjudging the man?) The King is in good health, and the Regentthinks he will very shortly do well to return to the Holy City, as soonas the autumn rains are well over. The Lady Countess, he says, issuffering greatly, and he fears the damp weather increases her malady.He speaks quite feelingly about it, as though he really loved her.

  Early this morning was born dear Lady Sybil's second baby--still, likeAgnes, a little frail thing; and still a daughter. But Guy seems justas pleased with his child as if it were a healthy boy. He is sodifferent from Amaury!

  Both Guy and Lady Sybil wish the infant to bear my name. So thisevening the Patriarch is to christen her Helena,--thus placing her underthe safe protection of the blessed Saint Helena, mother of the LordConstantine the Emperor, and also of the holy Queen of Adiabene, whobestowed such toil and money on the holy shrines.

  As if to show that joys, as well as misfortunes, do not come single,this afternoon arrived a courier with letters from Lusignan,--one fromMonseigneur to Guy, another from Raoul for Amaury, and one from Alix forme. All are well, thank the saints!--and Alix has now three children,of whom two are boys. Raoul is about to make a grand match, with one ofthe richest heiresses in Normandy,--the Lady Alix, Countess of Eu.Little Valence, Guillot's elder child, has been betrothed to the youngSeigneur de Parthenay. I am rather surprised that Guillot did not lookhigher, especially after Guy's marriage and Raoul's.

  Guy asked me to-day when I meant to be married.

  "Oh, please, Guy, don't talk about it!" said I. "I would so much rathernot."

  "Dost thou mean to be a nun, then?" asked he. I think he hardly expectedit.

  "Well," said I, "if I must, I must. But I want to know why I could notgo on living quietly without either?"

  "Ah, one of the original notions of the Damoiselle de Lusignan," saidhe. "Because, my eccentric Elaine, nobody ever does."

  "But why does nobody?" said I. "And why should not I begin it? Everything must begin some time, and with somebody."

  But Guy seemed so much amused that I did not pursue the topic.

  "Please thyself," said he, when he had finished laughing. "But why dostthou prefer single life?"

  "For various reasons," said I. "For one, I like to have my own way."

  "Well, now, women are queer folks!" said Guy. "Oh my most rationalsister, wilt thou not have to obey thine abbess? And how much betterwill that be than obeying thine husband?"

  "It will be better in two respects," I answered. "In the first place, anabbess is a woman, and would therefore be more reasonable than a man;and in"----

  "Oh dear! I did not understand that!" said Guy. "I am rather ignorantand stupid."

  "Thou art," said I. "And in the second, I should try, as soon aspossible, to be an abbess myself."

&nbs
p; "My best wishes attend thy speedy promotion, most holy Mother!" saidGuy, bowing low, but laughing. "I perceive I was very stupid. But thouseest, I really did not know that women were such extremely reasonablebeings. I fancied that, just now and then, they were slightlyunreasonable."

  "Now, Guy, give over!" said I. "But can I not wait a while? Must Idecide at once?"

  "Of course not, if that be thy wish," said Guy. "But thou art past theusual age for profession."

  "Then I shall be all the more likely to receive promotion quickly," Ireplied.

  "Fairest of nuns, here is my sword!" said Guy, kneeling and offering methe hilt. "I surrender myself, a vanquished prisoner, to thy superiorwisdom."

  So the matter passed off in a good laugh.

  Now that the truce is concluded, all is peaceful and happy. It is sonice, after the tumult, and suspense, and anxiety, to have nothing tothink of but what robe one shall wear to this feast, and how one shallarrange one's jewels for that dance. I wish it would last for ever!--ifonly one did not get tired even of pleasant things, when they have goneon for a while. If one could get hold of some pleasure of which onenever got tired!

  I want to introduce our national dance of Poitou, the minuet. I havetaught it to Lady Isabel, and two or three of the damsels in waiting:and Perette and Bertrade will help. Lady Isabel admires it very much;she says it is a grand, stately dance, and fit for a princess.

  It seems very odd to me, that the ladies of this country look upon it asbeneath them to superintend the cooking, and leave it all to theirservants. How strange it would be if we did that in Poitou! They orderwhat is to be done, but they never put their own hands to the work. Iknow what Alix would look like, if I told her.

  The first banquet was to have been on Monday, but it is an unlucky day,as the moon will be in opposition to Mars; so it had to be deferred. Weheard yesterday that the Countess of Edessa actually gave a banquet lastweek on a vigil, and what should she do but invite just enough to makethirteen! I suppose she never thought about either. She is the mostthoughtless woman I ever saw. Messire de Montluc was one of the guests,and when he perceived the calamity, he feigned to bleed at the nose, andasked leave to retire. I suppose he did not wish to run the risk ofdying within a year and a day. How can people be so careless? Why, itis almost as bad as murder.