CHAPTER XXI
I STAND SENTRY
There are (say some) but two things worth the trouble of making in theworld--war and love. So once upon a time I believed. But since--beinglaid up during the unkindly monotony of our Baltic spring by an ancientwound--I fell to the writing of this history, I would add to these twoworthy adventures--the making of books. Which, till I tried my hand atthe task myself, I would in no wise have allowed. But now, when the daysare easterly of wind and the lashing water beats on the leaded lozengesof our window lattice, I am fain to stretch myself, take up a new pen,and be at it again all day.
But I must e'en think of them that are to read me, and of their pain if Ioverstretch my privilege. Besides, if I prove over-long in the wind theymay not read me at all, which, I own it, would somewhat mar my purpose.
I was speaking, therefore, of being in the watch and ward of two women,each of whom (in my self-conceit I thus imagined it) certainly regardedme without dislike. God forgive me for thinking so much when they hadnever plainly told me! Nevertheless I took the thing for granted, as itwere. And, as I said before, it has been my experience that, if it bedone with a careful and delicate hand, more is gained with women bytaking things for granted than by the smoothest tongue and longestJacob-and-Rachael service. The man who succeeds with good women is theman who takes things for granted. Only he must know exactly what things,otherwise I am mortally sorry for him--he will have a rough road totravel. But to my tale.
Jorian ushered Ysolinde and Helene into the rooms from which he had sounceremoniously ousted the former tenants. How these chambers werelighted in the daytime I could not at first make out, but by going to theend of the long earth-hewn passage and leaning out of a window themystery was made plain. The ravine took an abrupt turn at this point, sothat we were in a house built round an angle, and so had the benefit oflight from both sides.
"And where are our rooms to be?" I asked of the stout soldier whenhe returned.
Jorian pointed to the plain, hard earth of the passage.
"That is poor lodging for tired bones!" I said; "have they no other roomsto let anywhere in this hostelry?"
He laughed again; indeed, he seemed to be able to do little else wheneverhe spoke to me.
"Tired bones will lie the stiller!" said he, at last, sententiously."There is some wheaten straw out there which you can bring in for abolster, if you will. But I think it likely that we shall get no moresleep than the mouse in the cat's dining-room this night. These borderrascals are apt to be restless in the dark hours, and their knives prickmost consumedly sharp!"
With that he went out, leaving the doors into the passages all open, andpresently I could hear him raging and rummaging athwart the house,ordering this one to find him "Graubunden fleisch," the next to get himsome good bread, and not to attempt to palm off "cow-cake" upon honestsoldiers on pain of getting his stomach cut open--together with otheramenities which occur easily to a seasoned man-at-arms foraging in anunfriendly country.
Then, having returned successful from this quest, what was my admirationto see Jorian (whom I had so lately called, and I began to be sorry forit, a Wendish pig) strip his fine soldier's coat and hang it upon a pegby the door, roll up his sleeves, and set to at the cooking in the greatopen fireplace with swinging black crooks against the front wall, whileBoris stood on guard with a long pistolet ready in the hollow of his arm,and his slow-match alight, by the doorway of the ladies' apartment.
I went and stood by the long man for company. And after a little hebecame much more friendly.
"Why do you stand with your match alight?" I asked of him after we hadbeen a while silent.
"Why, to keep a border knife out of Jorian's back, of course, while he isturning the fry in the pan," said he, as simply as if he had said that'twas a fine night without, or that the moon was full.
"I wish I could help," I sighed, a little wistfully, for I wished him tothink well of me.
"What!" he exclaimed--"with the frying-pan? Well, there is the bastingladle!" he retorted, and laughed in his old manner.
I own that, being yet little more than a lad, the tears stood in my eyesto be so flouted and made nothing of.
"I will show you perhaps sooner than you think that I am neither a cowardnor a babe!" I said, in high dudgeon.
And so went and stood by myself over against the farther door of thethree, which led from the outer hall to the apartments in which I couldhear the murmur of women's voices. And it was lucky that I did so. Foreven as I reached the door a sharp cry of terror came from within, andthere at the inner portal I caught sight of a narrow, foxy, peeringvisage, and a lean, writhing figure, prone like a worm on its belly. Therascal had been crawling towards Helene's room, for what purpose I knownot. Nor did I stop to inquire, for, being stung by the taunt of theman-at-arms, I was on Foxface in a moment, stamping upon him with myiron-shod feet, and then lifting him unceremoniously up by the slacknessof his back covertures, I turned him over and over like a wheel, tumblinghim out of the doorway into the outer hall with an astonishing clatter,shedding knives and daggers as he went.
It was certainly a pity for the fellow that Boris had taunted me solately. But the abusing of him gave me great comfort. And as he whirledpast the group at the fire, Jorian caught him handily in the round of hisback with a convenient spit, also without asking any questions, whereatthe fellow went out at the wide front door by which we had first entered,revolving in a cloud of dust. And where he went after that I have noidea. To the devil, for all I care!
But Boris, standing quietly by his own door, was evidently somewhatimpressed by my good luck. For soon after this he came over to me. Ithought he might be about to apologize for his rudeness. And so perhapshe did, but it was in his own way.
"Did you spoil your dagger on him?" he said, anxiously, for the firsttime speaking to me as a man speaks to his equal.
"No," said I, "but I stubbed my toe most confoundedly, jarring it uponthe rascal's backbone as he went through the door."
"Ah!" he replied, thoughtfully, nodding his head, "that was more fittingfor such as he. But you may get a chance at him with the dagger yet orthe night be over."
And with that he went back to his door, blowing up his slow-matchas he went.
Presently the supper was pronounced cooked, and, after washing his hands,Jorian resumed his coat, amid the universal attention of the motley crewin the great hall, and began to dish up the fragrant stew. Ho had beencollecting for it all day upon the march, now knocking over a rabbit witha bolt from his gun, now picking some leaves of lettuce and watercresswhen he chanced upon a running stream or a neglected garden--of whichlast (thanks to Duke Casimir and his raiders) there were numbers alongthe route we had traversed.
Then, when he had made all ready, our sturdy cook dished the stew into agreat wooden platter--rabbits, partridges, scraps of dried flesh, bits ofbacon for flavoring, fresh eggs, vegetables in handfuls, all covered witha dainty-smelling sauce, deftly compounded of milk, gravy, and red wine.
Then Jorian and Boris, one taking the heap of wooden platters and theother the smoking bowl of stew, marched solemnly within. But before hewent, Boris handed me his pistolet without a word, and the slow-matchwith it. Which, as I admit, made me feel monstrously unsafe. However, Itook the engine across my arm and stood at attention as I had seen himdo, with the match thrust through my waistband.
Then I felt as if I had suddenly grown at least a foot taller, and my joywas changed to ecstasy when the Lady Ysolinde, coming out quickly, I knewnot at first for what purpose, found me thus standing sentinel andblowing importantly upon my slow-match.
"Hugo," she said, kindly, looking at me with the aqua-marine eyes thathad the opal glints in them, "come thy ways in and sit with us."
I made her a salute with my piece and thanked her for her good thought.
"But," said I, "Lady Ysolinde, pray remember that this is a place ofdanger, and that it is more fitting that we who have the honor to be yourguards should dine together witho
ut your chamber doors."
"Nay," she said, impetuously, "I insist. It is not right that you, whoare to be an officer, should mess with the common soldiers."
"My lady," said I, "I thank you deeply. And it shall be so, I promiseyou, when we are in safety. But let me have my way here and now."
She smiled upon me--liking me, as I think, none the worse for mystiffness. And so went away, and I was right glad to see her go. For Iwould not have lost what I had gained in the good opinion of these twomen-at-arms--no, not for twenty maidens' favors.
But in that respect also I changed as the years went on. For of allthings a boy loves not to be flouted and babyfied when he thinks himselfalready grown up and the equal of his elders in love and war.
So in a little while came out Jorian and Boris, and, having carried inthe bread and wine, we three sat down to the remains of the stew.Indeed, I saw but little difference as to quantity from the time thatJorian had taken it in. For maids' appetites when they are anyways inlove are precarious, but, after they are assured of their love's return,then the back hunger comes upon them and the larder is made to pay forall arrears.
Not that I mean to assert that either of these ladies was in lovewith me--far otherwise indeed. For this it would argue the conceitof a jack-a-dandy to imagine, much more to write such a thing.But, nevertheless, certain is it that this night they were both ofsmall appetite.
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