CHAPTER X.
_THE FAIR OF ST. FRIDESWYDE._
"I Tell thee the fault is thine own. Thou couldst have saved him an thouwouldst!"
"Thou art cruel to me, Lotta--cruel, cruel!" wailed Linda. "As though Ihad not enough to bear without these taunts!"
"Taunts! they are true words every one, and I did warn thee before. Ifthou hadst given thyself to honest Roger, thou mightest have saved thylover."
Linda's pale face flushed; she wrung her hands together; her eyes, thatwere sunken and hollow, flashed suddenly.
"Honest Roger, quotha! and he little better than a common assassin! Ihated and feared him long ere I saw Hugh. Wouldst thou have had mebetroth myself to a murderer?"
There was an answering flash in Lotta's eyes.
"To save the man I loved from death, _I_ would have promised anything,"she cried--"ANYTHING!"
"So would not I," answered Linda, drawing a deep sigh. "I dare not swarea falsehood--not even for his sake. Nor would he wish it of me. Thereare things worse than death."
"Ay, verily there be," answered Lotta significantly; "who knows but whatthy dainty lover (as thou dost call him) may even now be suffering somesuch fate."
Linda started and gazed earnestly at her sister.
"Lotta, what meanest thou? Speak! What dost thou know?"
"I know nothing," was the dogged reply, and a hard gleam shone inLotta's eyes.
The likeness between the twin sisters was growing less and less everyweek. Linda had grown pale and drooping of late, and went about heavily,as one in whom the vigour of life is sapped; whilst Lotta was almost asblooming as of old, save that her beauty was harder in character, herlaugh more forced, and her speech more reckless. Some thought her morebewitching than ever, but Linda was of a different opinion. She began tofear her sister, and to suspect that Lotta hated her with that cruelsort of hatred which is born of jealousy.
Linda had not realized until the mysterious disappearance of Hugh thatLotta loved him; but the knowledge had been forced upon her during thosedreadful days following the fight in Beaumont meadows. Since that dayLotta had been altogether different, and had never ceased to taunt theheart-broken Linda with having been the cause of the fate which hadovertaken Hugh upon that occasion. She was always throwing reproaches ather, and urging her even now to accept the suit of Roger de Horn, lestsome worse thing should happen; and Linda grew more pale and tearful asweek after week passed by, and no news of the absent Hugh reached eitherher or any in the city.
He seemed to have been spirited away as if by magic. His body had neverbeen found, and it was generally supposed that he had been alarmed bythe magnitude of the fight, and fearing for the consequences to thoseconcerned, had quitted the city and betaken himself elsewhere, as wasoften enough done by those who feared the result of any act of violence.He had been one of the most valiant of the tilters in the tourney, andmight perhaps fear lest his name should be brought before the Chancelloror the King as having been a leader in the fight that had followed.
For there had been great displeasure aroused in high places at thislusty and bloody battle. The Chancellor had closed the schools for awhile, to make inquisition on the matter; and the clerks, in affright atseeing their privileges withdrawn, had made a collection of money, andhad sent presents to the King and Queen and Prince of Wales, in the hopeof obtaining pardon.
The King had, however, given a stern reply, to the effect that moneycould not buy back the life of even one loyal subject wantonly slain;and had it not been that his Majesty was too much taken up with troublesin Wales and with his own Barons at home, more serious steps might havebeen taken.
As it was no mandate followed, and gradually the life of the placeresumed its former course; but it may be understood that, at a time ofso much excitement and anxiety, the disappearance of a single studentcreated but little stir. Had his dead body been found, there must havebeen inquiry, and search made for the authors of the crime, as Hugh wasa gentleman's son, and the companion and friend of young De Montfort;but since he had simply vanished, it was concluded that he had done soof his own free-will, and only a few of his nearest friends harboureddark fears as to his safety.
Linda had good reason for believing that he had met with foul play, andthough for a while she cherished the hope that he would come back assuddenly as he had left, the hope was dwindling away little by little,so that Lotta's last words brought a start of mingled dismay and hope.
"If thou dost know nothing, why dost thou speak thus?" she cried,clasping her hands tightly together.
"I speak but the fantasy that sometimes fills my mind. I verily believeeven now, if thou wouldst hear reason and mate thyself with Roger, thatHugh might be brought back again as from the dead."
"Thou dost believe he yet lives?"
"Marry, how can I tell? I know no more than thyself. But men put nottheir heads within a noose for small cause. Were I in thy place, I wouldsee if I could not save my lover, even though I might never wed him."
"Thinkest thou that he would reckon life a boon had I been false tohim?" spoke Linda, in very low tones.
Lotta's hard laugh rang out mockingly.
"Thou vain and foolish child! thinkest thou that there is a man uponearth who would not choose life rather than love? Thinkest thou thatthou art the only maiden in the city worth the wooing? Go to for averitable fool an thou dost! Let him but taste the sweets of libertyagain, and I trow that he would console himself for thy desertion, andthat right quickly;" and Lotta flashed a meaning glance at her ownreflection in a small mirror of burnished brass that hung against thewall.
Linda shivered again. She read her sister's meaning all too well. Yetwhat would she not be willing to do to win liberty for her lover, werehe indeed alive?
"If thou wouldst but tell me what thou dost know!" she said again.
Lotta threw herself along the couch beside the window, and looked downinto the street below. It was plain that she was excited and disquieted,but Linda had no clue to her thoughts.
"I know naught," she repeated; "but I have my thoughts. That somethingis afoot I cannot doubt. Hast seen how strange Tito is of late--howlittle he is at home after dark--how he and Roger consort more and moretogether? Something is hatching between them; what its nature is I knownot. But I have my thoughts--I have my suspicions. And is not Tito everon at thee that thou shouldst forget Hugh and wed with Roger? And dothhe not tell me to urge the same upon thee, and throw out strange hintsthat the sooner this be done the sooner some other good will follow? Iverily believe that hadst thou the spirit or the heart of a mouse, thoucouldst save him whom thou dost profess thou lovest. But if thou wiltnot make sacrifice for him--well, such love is not worth the having! Iwould cast it from me with scorn!"
Linda buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She was bewildered anddistressed above measure by Lotta's words. If indeed Hugh were living,what would she not do to obtain his release from the power of the evilmen who had captured him? but to pay the price asked of her for this!Oh, it was almost more than she could bear to think of! And yet might itnot be her duty--that duty she owed to him whom she loved more thanlife?
She was in a grievous state of doubt and dismay, and upon the firstopportunity she sought counsel of her friend Joanna Seaton, who had beenher confidante throughout.
Joanna looked very grave at what she heard, but warned Linda veryseriously against taking such a false step as that of listening to thesuit of Roger de Horn.
"Thou dost hate and fear him; it could never be right to wed him. We maynot do evil even for good to come. The holy friars have at least taughtus that, albeit the monks may not have done so. Thou mayest not swearfalsely, Linda."
"Not even to save him from--oh, I know not what?"
"Not even for that. Moreover, thou dost not know that he is living, orin the power of his foe. I fear me that Lotta is not true to thee nor toher better self. She has let the demon of jealousy possess her, and sheis now seeking to work upon thee and to get thee to wed with Roger. Ifea
r me she has some evil purpose in her head. I would not have thee puttoo great faith in her words, Linda."
"But if she should be right!" urged Linda feverishly. "Oh, could we notsave him?"
Joanna was silent, revolving many matters in her mind. Linda suddenlyspoke again.
"Joanna, to-morrow doth begin the Fair of St. Frideswyde."
"Yes, truly; but what of that?"
"Listen, Joanna. Dost thou not remember that there come to the fair yearby year those who practise magic--who read the future from the stars,from the cards, from crystal bowls? I have never sought to such before,having never cared to pry into the future. But now, ah now, if theycould but tell me that one thing--if they could but say whether he werealive or dead!"
Joanna looked struck by the idea, and a little excited. Living in an ageof superstition, the girls were not free from the belief in magic whichlies dormant in almost every nature. Truly if they could discover byoccult means what they so greatly desired to know, it might put a weaponin their hands which they could use with effect. Many were there in thecity who would fly to the rescue of Hugh, were it but known that helived, and where was his hiding-place. If they could but once discoverthis much, the rest might follow, and the prisoner be released.
No event could better facilitate their design than the approaching Fairof St. Frideswyde. Formerly it had been held in July, upon the feast ofthe translation of St. Benedict, and the five days following; but withinthe memory of the present generation it had been changed to the vigiland feast of the saint himself, and occupied a whole week, from theeighteenth to the twenty-fourth of October inclusive. Not only was agreat fair held in the streets of the city all through these days, butthe whole authority of the place was handed over to the Prior of St.Frideswyde's. To him the Mayor surrendered the keys of the city; thecourts of the town were closed in favour of the Piepowder Court, whichwas held by the steward of the Priory, and before which all disturbersof the peace were brought during the week of the fair.
Persons of every sort thronged into the city during the week. Thehostels were full to overflowing; a general holiday was observed.Housewives stocked their larders and wardrobes for the winter; youngfolks made merry together at mummings and shows of every kind. Clerksand scholars thronged into the fair so soon as they were free of theschools. The streets were lighted by torches, and frolic andmerry-making lasted far into the darkness of the autumn night. Mummers,jugglers, fortune-tellers crowded into the place to gather a harvestthere; and if any youths or maidens desired to consult the stars, havetheir fortunes told or their horoscope cast, that was the season whenthis could be managed without trouble or risk.
The fascination of the supernatural has a great hold upon the youngimagination. Linda and Joanna had not discussed this matter long beforeboth were burning with eagerness to put the matter to the test. It hadbeen already rumoured that a noted astrologer from foreign parts wouldvisit the town during the Fair of St. Frideswyde; and if this were so,he was the very man of all others to be consulted. He could know nothingwhatever respecting the character or history of the persons whoconsulted him, and therefore, if he could tell or show them somewhatconcerning the fate of Hugh, his prognostications might be looked uponas true, especially if he could give some sign whereby those whoconsulted him should be able to prove the efficacy of his magic.
Others besides Linda and Joanna awaited eagerly the opening of the fair.Alys de Kynaston was never weary of questioning her father about it, andbegging permission to wander through it when the time should come.Edmund was keenly curious too, but he could not hope to see much, thoughhe meant to ride into the city, and go through such places as his horsecould carry him. Leofric was not able to tell them anything about it, ashe had not seen one himself as yet; but he picked up all the informationthat he could on the subject, and both he and Amalric resolved to seeeverything possible, even at the expense of their studies during thatweek.
Different as was their rank in life, Amalric and Leofric had becomegreat friends of late. Their anxiety for Hugh was one link which haddrawn them together, and their love of study was another. Amalricattended a number of the same lectures as Leofric. He often joined thereadings in the Castle, and profited by Leofric's scholarship, whichwas certainly rapidly increasing with all this exercise. At other timeshe would mount Leofric upon one of his own horses, and they would rideforth together and scour the country for miles round, enjoying the rapidexercise and the free companionship. Amalric was fond of weaving fancypictures of their future life, when Leofric and he should ride forthtogether to win their spurs of knighthood, and meet with thoseadventures which befell all true gallant youths who went forth in thecause of chivalry.
In spite of his scholarly tastes, he had soldier blood in his veins, anddid not mean to settle down altogether to a life of study. There wasglory to be won in the far East in the Crusades, as well as against theTurks upon the seas, even if not nearer at home. Amalric had his dreamsof warlike glory, and Leofric shared them also. He would be theesquire--Amalric should be his knightly master. Together they would doand dare great things; and thus planning and castle-building, theirsouls were knit together, and a deep and lasting friendship sprang upbetween them.
At the fair they were always to be seen together, sometimes inattendance upon the maiden Alys, who delighted to obtain permission togo afoot into the crowd with them. Her father, finding that there seemedlittle danger of any untoward disturbance just now (the memory of theKing's recent displeasure being still fresh in men's minds), was pleasedto gratify her whim, and Amalric was always eager to be entrusted withthe care of one who was becoming daily dearer to him. So with a servantor two in close attendance, but with Amalric and Leofric one on eachside, the eager maiden visited the fair and made numerous littlepurchases, greatly to her own edification and the admiration of thespectators.
Thus it chanced that she came one day face to face with Linda, whom shehad not seen since the day of the joustings, and she was greatly struckand grieved by the change in her looks. The citizen's daughter wouldhave passed by with a simple reverence; but Alys put forth her hand anddrew Linda towards her.
"I am glad to see thee once more; but thou art sadly changed since lastwe met. My father ever says that Hugh will come back again. Lose notaltogether heart and hope."
"Ah, sweet lady, I thank thee for such kindly words; but thy noblefather knows not all that we know. And I have not lost all hope, either,albeit I almost tremble. Hist! I can say no more here; but anon I shalllearn somewhat, and then will I tell thee all--if indeed there be aughtto tell. I have heard a whisper of hope. Perchance it will becomesomething more anon. I must wait--I must wait--with what patience I can.On the last day of the fair I shall know all."
With these rather mysterious words Linda pressed Alys's hand and glidedaway, whilst the maiden stood looking after her with wondering eyes, andturning to Amalric asked,--
"What doth such speech portend?"
Amalric shook his head; but Leofric, who had heard much of the gossipof the fair from Jack, who was always in the thick of things, madeanswer,--
"Perchance she has been asking the oracle of him. Men say it is rightwonderful what he doth tell; but they speak not too openly of thematter, lest the monks and canons of the city arise and drive him forth.The black arts are not encouraged, albeit there is always juggling andfortune-telling enow at these fairs. But this magician from foreignlands is something different. All men who have gone to him arewhispering of the wonders he doth show, and the strange fashion in whichhe reads the thoughts of their hearts. For myself I have not had anydesire to seek to him. Brother Angelus has warned us against suchthings. He says that half of it is trickery, unworthy to be practised byhonest men; and that what is really magic is of the devil, and should beshunned by those who call themselves children of God. But for all that,many men who live upright and godly lives will, from sheer desire to seeand hear the man, go to consult him or ask a question. These ofttimescome away with puzzled or troubled faces. For my part,
I desire not tohave dealings with either a trickster or an emissary of the Evil One."
Alys shivered slightly. She had been on the point of asking to be takento the magician; but these words had the desired effect of checking theimpulse. Nevertheless, she felt considerable curiosity to know whatLinda had heard or seen, and greater still would have been her curiosityhad she known what was about to take place.
Linda had consulted the oracle, who sat within a small tent just withinthe south gate, his face shrouded beneath a deep cowl, from under whichhis eyes gleamed like live coals. By day he sat and answered questionsput to him in a deep, dreamy voice, which seemed to come from somewherefar away; but there were those who had asked to see certain things, orto look into the crystal globe or into the magic bowl, and they werebidden to meet him at an appointed time without the city gate afternightfall; and those who came back from these interviews spoke withbated breath of what they had seen and heard, and that only in whispers,lest the thing should reach the ears of the Prior.
Linda was one of those who, in a strange ecstasy of trembling and hope,were awaiting their turn to lift the curtain and see beyond the veil.
The oracle had divined her question ere it could leave her falteringlips. He told her that she came to ask news of one she loved--of one whomight even be beyond the reach of human power--sleeping the sleep ofdeath. Linda had given a little shriek at hearing these words; but themagician had gone on to say, in the same deep, monotonous voice, that ifliving his face could be called up in the magic mirror, and that thusalone could she learn whether indeed death had taken her lover for hisprey.
Did she desire to inquire further? Linda, in an agony of terror andexpectancy, declared that she did; and Joanna, though more frightenedthan she had anticipated, and half afraid of the approaching ordeal,would not leave her friend to face it alone.
It was not difficult, in the confusion attendant upon the fair, to slipout of the house after supper, unknown to those within; and it was easyenough to find the emissary of the magician, who, habited in a long gownand cowl like those of some monk or friar, stood without the gate toconduct those who had appointments to that other secret place, where themagic arts were practised beneath the cloak of night.
But first he tightly bandaged the eyes of the girls. That they had heardwas always done; so that no man knew in what spot stood the strangecurtained place where these mysteries were carried on. Linda heldJoanna's arm tight, and both girls shook and trembled as they were ledalong what seemed an interminable road, till at last they were made tohalt, and they heard a curious knock upon some panel that sounded likethat of a door.
The next moment they were pushed within an archway, and they heard thedoor clang to behind them. For a moment their hearts almost failed them;but the burning curiosity to know what would come next aided them torally courage, and in a few seconds they felt themselves pushed intoseats, and the bandage removed from their eyes.
At first all was so dark about them that they saw little more than theyhad done when blindfold; but in a few minutes there was a slightrustling sound, and then a little tongue of flame seemed to shoot up,and they saw by its light that the magician sat before them, a smalltable only between himself and his visitors, and that he was feedingthe flame in a small brazier before him, which emitted not only a littlelight, but also a scent almost like that of incense, and a light smokethat dimmed the air.
Above the head of the magician was a mirror, placed at a curious angle,so that it reflected nothing in the room. Indeed there seemed nothingthat it could well reflect. The walls appeared to be only blackcurtains, whose sombre hue absorbed almost all the little light therewas, whilst the chill vault-like atmosphere lay like an oppression uponthe lungs of the visitors. They felt almost as though stifling, andcould not have spoken had their lives depended upon it.
But speech did not appear to be demanded of them. The magician after along silence, during which time he was feeding the brazier with variousdrugs which he had arranged upon the table beside him, addressed himselfsuddenly as if to some unseen presence.
"Go!" he said, in a tone of inflexible authority, "look into the heartof yonder maid, and see whose face is engraved there. If that face beyet in the land of the living, show it upon the mirror. That is thy taskthis night. Go--begone!"
Dead silence followed this strange command. But in a moment a sound ofmusic arose as if from the ground at their feet--a strange, weird, lowcadence that rose and fell and filled the room; then the cloud ofincense grew thicker, and for a moment the face of the mirror was dimmedand blurred.
Then the air cleared. The mirror shone out again, and reflected in itsshining surface was a face--the face of a man--wan, white, death-like,with closed eyes and ashen lips. But it was the face of Hugh for allthat.
"He lives," said the voice of the magician; "but he will not live long,unless the woman who loves him best on earth will sacrifice herself forhim."
Linda uttered a strangled scream, and fell senseless to the floor.
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War Page 10