by Eugène Sue
While the Perfect speaks these words Montfort and his wife exchange glances alternately expressive of indignation, horror and amazement. The wan eyes of Alyx of Montmorency fill with tears. She clasps her hands and addresses the count:
“Oh! My heart bleeds like the heart of the Holy Virgin! I take You for witness, Lord God, my divine master! Strengthened by faith against the trials that it has pleased You to afflict me with for my salvation, it is long since I have wept. No; I have seen my father die and my second son; I looked upon their corpses with a tranquil eye, seeing that it was You, Oh my God, who called them unto You. To-day, however, my tears flow when I think of the thousands of poor souls whom the abominable preachings of this monster of perdition may cause to burn everlastingly in hell!”
Montfort (weeping like the countess, whom he closes in his arms)— “Console yourself, dear and saintly wife! Console yourself! We shall pray for the souls that this miscreant has damned. It has pleased the Lord to recall me to life this day. I shall prove my devout recognition by dedicating to pious works a part of the booty that we shall take at Lavaur. I shall establish masses for the repose of the souls of the heretics of this city whom I shall exterminate.”
The ingenious idea of masses, especially consecrated to the repose of the souls of the heretics whom Montfort promises himself soon to put to the sword or to consign to the flames, seems to assuage the countess’s grief. Suddenly the din of a distant tumult breaks in upon the silence of Montfort’s sick chamber. Trumpets are heard sounding from the direction of the camp. Montfort starts, half rises on his couch, listens and cries: “Alyx, it is the call to arms! The besieged must have made a sally! This way, my equerries! — My armor! — Let my horse be saddled.” Thus speaking, the count rises half naked on the couch, but enfeebled by the fever and the blood-letting, he is seized with a vertigo, his limbs tremble under him and he drops down on the bed. In dropping, the bandage of the arm unfastens, the recently lanced vein re-opens, and the blood streams out anew. Karvel hastens to the side of Montfort, who lies unconscious on the couch, and seeks to stop the flow of blood while one of the equerries breaks precipitately into the room crying:
“Seigneur! — Seigneur! — To arms! — The camp is broken into!”
Alyx of Montmorency— “What is the meaning of these trumpet blasts? Is there an engagement on?”
The Equerry— “The Seigneurs of Lascy and Limoux were in the neighboring room awaiting the orders of seigneur the count, when a knight rode in in haste to notify them that a large heretic force was seeking to enter the Castle of Lavaur under the cover of night, in order to reinforce the garrison. Hugues of Lascy and Lambert of Limoux immediately rode off with the knight and ordered a call to arms.”
Karvel (attending to Montfort)— “Oh! Mylio’s songs have not been vain. They have redoubled the courage of the inhabitants of Languedoc!”
A Second Equerry (enters and says to the countess)— “A messenger has just arrived. He brings information that the heretics are fighting with desperate courage. Abbot Reynier requests monseigneur to mount his horse and ride forth. It will steel the courage of our troops.”
Alyx of Montmorency (pointing to the count who still lies unconscious and is being attended to by the Perfect)— “Tell the messenger of our venerable Father, Abbot Reynier, that monseigneur lies unconscious on his couch, and is unable to take horse — Go! (The equerry hastens out. Alyx raises her eyes heavenward and joins her hands.) May the Almighty watch over His elect!”
Karvel (sadly)— “Oh! How many of our brothers will not lose their lives in the attack!”
The Second Equerry (re-entering)— “A soldier has just alighted from his horse. He rode ahead of Abbot Reynier. It is said that, thanks to an intrepid sally of the besieged who came out to the help of the forces that sought to enter the castle, the pagans succeeded in making good their entry into Lavaur. Many of them, however, have been killed, wounded or taken prisoner. Lambert of Limoux and Hugues of Lascy are bringing the prisoners to camp. Abbot Reynier is with them.”
Karvel (with great anxiety)— “Good God! If Mylio and his friend the juggler should happen to be among the prisoners, it will be their sentence of death.”
CHAPTER XII.
GOOSE-SKIN’S CONVERSION.
THE FEARS OF Karvel the Perfect are verified. Mylio is a prisoner of the Crusaders. He was captured at the moment when, leading a body of men from the fields, he attempted to force an entry into Lavaur in order to reinforce the garrison. Goose-Skin also is among the prisoners. Together with the trouvere, the juggler is taken into the large hall of the villa by Lambert of Limoux and Hugues of Lascy. Karvel has remained near Montfort. Mylio is wounded. A blood-stained handkerchief bandages his arm. Although unscathed, the juggler seems to be a prey to great apprehension. Informed upon the dangerous condition of the count, Abbot Reynier proceeds to the patient’s chamber, while Hugues of Lascy and Lambert of Limoux, their visors down, converse in a low voice a few paces away from the trouvere and the juggler.
Mylio (to his companion in a tone of sorrow)— “My poor Goose-Skin, you are now a prisoner — it is all my fault.”
Goose-Skin (peevishly)— “Yes; it is your fault. I was dead; quite dead; could you not leave my ashes in peace?”
Mylio— “Just as, thanks to the sally of the brave men of Lavaur under Aimery, I was about to enter the town, I noticed that you were not near. I felt uneasy about you. I stopped. By the light of the moon I saw you twenty paces behind lying on your face—”
Goose-Skin— “Oxhorns! Had I lain down on my back I would have had my paunch trampled out of shape under the feet of the combatants.”
Mylio— “I ran back to you thinking you were wounded. Our companions entered the town in the interval, the gate closed behind them, and — here we are, prisoners.”
Goose-Skin— “What I blame you for is for having drawn upon me — good and peaceful corpse that I was — the attention of these scampish Crusaders. I heard one of them cry out: ‘That mountain of meat is so enormous that I wager my pike could not transfix it. Just watch, my companions.’—”
Mylio— “And no sooner had you heard the words than you turned so prodigious a somersault that I was as happy at your resurrection as amazed at your agility. It was a wonderful jump.”
Goose-Skin— “Oxhorns! A good deal less than was at stake would make one nimble. Did I not have my paunch to save?”
Mylio— “And was it for that that you prudently simulated death during the attack?”
Goose-Skin— “By the heavens! The moment that I heard those brutes of Crusaders cry: ‘To arms!’ I threw myself down flat, face down on the ground. And this is the way heroism is recompensed! I calculated that by bravely throwing myself as an unsurmountable obstacle between our companions and the enemy, I would cover their rear, and they would be able to enter the town in safety before the Crusaders had time to climb over my body.”
Mylio— “Your good spirits have come back. So much the better.”
Goose-Skin (nodding his head towards the two seigneurs, who now draw near after having raised their visors)— “Mylio, it seems to me we know these two men. May the devil take them to hell!”
Mylio (looking back)— “Hugues of Lascy? Lambert of Limoux? (addressing them in an ironical voice) All hail to the Bailiff of the Joy of Joys! By the heavens! Here we have a bit of infamous hypocrisy! Is it you, holy men, who have come to extirpate heresy in Albigeois? (Turning to Goose-Skin) Do you remember that last pleading before the Court of Love?”
Goose-Skin— “The court of ribaldry, of which these two bearers of the cross were worthy officers?”
Hugues of Lascy (to Lambert)— “Do you hear the vipers’ language? Our capture is good. Since these two jugglers started over the country, the dogs of heretics have shown their teeth with greater madness! We shall know how to cure them of their madness!”
Goose-Skin (plaintively)— “Poor folks! To have become so mad! Some monk must have bitten them, not true, Sei
gneur Bailiff of the Joy of Joys?”
At this moment Simon of Montfort enters clad in a long brown robe that resembles a monk’s frock. On one side he leans upon the arm of his wife Alyx of Montmorency, on the other upon the arm of Abbot Reynier. One of the count’s equerries hastens to bring a chair for his master, the other mounts guard at the door of the contiguous apartment where Karvel the Perfect is kept a prisoner. Montfort is silent. Abbot Reynier casts upon Mylio and Goose-Skin a look of triumph and inveterate hatred. The monk has not yet forgotten the night when the trouvere and the juggler carried away Florette from the mill of Chaillotte, and left him lying bruised and disappointed on the ground.
Montfort (addressing Mylio in a hollow voice)— “Were you among the heretics of whom a large number succeeded in forcing an entry into Lavaur?”
Mylio— “Yes, Seigneur Count, I was among the combatants and fought my best.”
Montfort— “Your name is Mylio the Trouvere. You plied at Blois your unworthy trade of perdition. You poured out the venom of your calumnies against the priests of the Church, the most sacred personages. I am thoroughly informed concerning you—”
Mylio (interrupting the count and addressing the abbot)— “Oh, sycophant! So you have taken early precautions to head off the narrative of your nocturnal adventure at the mill of Chaillotte!”
Alyx of Montmorency raises her hands and turns her eyes heavenward as if to take the heavens to witness. The count darts a furious look at Mylio.
Goose-Skin (in a low voice to the trouvere)— “The looks of that specter chill me to the marrow of my bones. We are lost!”
Montfort (to Mylio, angrily)— “Hold your tongue, blasphemer! Heretic dog! If you do not, I shall have your tongue torn out!”
Abbot Reynier (to Montfort with unction)— “My dear brother, we should have contempt only for such insults. The wretch is possessed. Helas! He no longer belongs to himself. It is the demon that speaks through his mouth.”
Mylio (impetuously to the abbot)— “Will you dare deny that you crept one night into the close of the mill of Chaillotte, the despicable coupler in your service, with evil designs on Florette, and that, but for Goose-Skin, who is here a witness, and myself, you would have succeeded in your satanic purpose and blighted the poor child?”
Goose-Skin (breaks in upon Mylio trembling at every limb, throws himself at Montfort’s feet and clasping his hands cries)— “Illustrious and benevolent seigneur, I remember nothing — I am wholly upset, fascinated, dazed. All that I remember is that I was a pig, an unclean animal. Alack! It was no fault of mine, because, Oh! redoubtable prop of the Church, I have not yet received baptism. Alack! Not yet. But a second ago, the instant I beheld your august face, it seemed to me that I saw a light like a halo shining around your holy person. One of those divine rays penetrated my body and it has suddenly given me an inextinguishable thirst for celestial knowledge; it has caused me to pant after the baptismal waters that will purify me of my abominable sins. Oh, pious seigneur! May you and your saintly spouse deign to officiate as my god-father and god-mother; consent, I pray you, to hold me over the baptismal font — I shall be a model of fidelity. My body shall be harnessed in beads and scapularies!”
Montfort (aside to Abbot Reynier)— “Hem! Meseems this fat miscreant has been illumined rather too suddenly by the light of heaven — and yet he might be sincere!”
Alyx of Montmorency— “It often pleases the Lord to accelerate the effects of His grace in order to render them more striking.”
Abbot Reynier (aside to the count and his wife)— “It also might be that the fear of death and not faith has brought about the conversion of this sinner.”
Montfort— “What is there to be done, reverend Father? How shall we interpret his conduct?”
Abbot Reynier (aside to the count)— “He should be sent to the pyre along with the rest.”
Alyx of Montmorency— “But, Father, if he is sincere, if the man has really been touched by divine grace?”
Abbot Reynier (aside to Alyx and her husband)— “A reason the more. If he is sincere, the flames of the pyre will, in the eyes of the Lord, be an acceptable expiation of the new convert’s abominable past life. If he deceives us, the pyre will be the just punishment for his sacrilegious falsehood. In either case, the pyre is meet for the miscreant. The matter is settled.”
Montfort and his wife are struck by the double advantage of the monk’s proposition and exchange looks of approval.
Montfort— “Rise, man! God will know whether your conversion is sincere.”
Goose-Skin (aside to himself)— “Good! Good! It is now merely an affair between God and myself. We shall arrange matters comfortably between us two.”
Montfort (to Mylio)— “You have a brother who is a pastor of these devil-possessed heretics. Does he not enjoy a great influence in the town?”
Mylio (proudly)— “All the inhabitants would give their lives to save his own. My brother is their idol.”
Montfort— “I shall allow you to return to Lavaur. You shall tell the inhabitants in my name: ‘Abjure your heresy; re-enter the pale of the holy Catholic Church; deliver the Lady of Lavaur unconditionally to Montfort, and also her son, the consuls of the town and a hundred of the most notable citizens; relinquish your property to the soldiers of Christ; if you do your lives will be saved; if you do not, at day-break to-morrow the flames of Karvel’s pyre will give to the Crusaders the signal for the assault!’ That is the mission that I confer upon you.”
Mylio (stupefied)— “My brother! You speak of burning my brother alive! Oh, horrible alternative!”
Montfort— “He is a prisoner in my camp.”
Mylio (in consternation)— “My brother! A prisoner!”
Goose-Skin (aside to Mylio)— “Follow my example — abjure — demand baptism!”
Mylio (to Montfort in a trembling voice)— “My brother is a prisoner, say you? You are surely spreading a snare for me. But even if he stood there before me, loaded with chains, Karvel would curse me if I were to accept your offer, and could be infamous enough to promise you to exhort the inhabitants of Lavaur in his name to submit to the Church of Rome!”
Suddenly the sonorous and gentle voice of the physician is heard. Kept a prisoner in the adjoining room, the words of Mylio have reached him. “Brother,” he cries, “falter not before the foe.”
Mylio (electrified)— “Karvel’s voice!”
The trouvere rushes in the direction from which the voice proceeded, but Lambert of Limoux and Hugues of Lascy throw themselves in Mylio’s way and hold him back. Montfort turns to one of his equerries and says: “Let the other heretic in.”
Immediately Karvel the Perfect steps in, he advances towards his brother with a smile of ineffable tenderness, and pointing with his finger at the knights who are holding Mylio addresses Montfort: “What! Violence against an unarmed enemy?”
At a sign from the count the seigneurs leave Mylio free, and the two brothers rush into each other’s arms. They converse apart for a moment during which Karvel informs his brother of the circumstances that brought him into the Crusaders’ camp.
Hughes of Lascy (stepping towards Montfort)— “Seigneur, day is dawning. Everything is in readiness for the assault of Lavaur. The army only awaits the signal. What are your orders?”
Montfort— “Let the signal for the assault be given at sunrise. Yet too feeble to mount my horse, I shall have myself carried in a litter. As to these three heretics, their execution shall be the signal for the attack.”
Goose-Skin (stupefied)— “One moment! What the devil! I have abjured; I did! I am a good Catholic!”
Karvel (to Montfort)— “So, then, count, we are to die? I thank you for this death!”
Mylio (to Montfort)— “I also thank you for this death, coward! Felon! Knight without word and without faith! Miserable fanatic!”
The count drops his head at the reproach. His soldier’s heart is touched to the quick by the just charge of felony.
Abbot Reynier— “These wretches dare to mention the word ‘faith’! And will you, Montfort, be affected by reproaches that issue from such mouths? Have you forgotten that our Holy Father, Innocent III, said: ‘None need to keep faith with those who fail in their faith to God’? Would you protect the lives of these maddened heretics and thus enable them to lure thousands of unhappy beings into their detestable heresy?”
Montfort (affrighted)— “Oh! No, Father! A thousand times, no!”
Abbot Reynier— “Come, then! Hold high your head, intrepid soldier of our Church! The Lord will cause Lavaur to fall into your hands!”
Montfort (with fanatic exaltation)— “To arms, knights! To the assault! God is with us! No mercy when we take Lavaur! Kill, slay women, children, old men and young! Kill them all! As at Beziers, the Lord will distinguish His own. (Pointing to the three prisoners) Let these three men be pinioned! Let them be kept in a safe place until the moment of their execution!”