The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages
Page 18
CHAPTER XVII
JORIAN KETEL went straight to Margaret's room, and there, to hisinfinite surprise, he found the man he had been in search of, pale andmotionless, his head in Margaret's lap, and she kneeling over him, mutenow, and stricken to stone. Her eyes were dilated, yet glazed, and sheneither saw the light nor heard the man, nor cared for anything onearth, but the white face in her lap.
Jorian stood awe-struck, the candle shaking in his hand.
"Why, where was he, then, all the time?"
Margaret heeded him not. Jorian went to the empty chest and inspectedit. He began to comprehend. The girl's dumb and frozen despair movedhim.
"This is a sorry sight," said he: "it is a black night's work: all for afew skins! Better have gone with us than so. She is past answering me,poor wench. Stop--let us try whether--"
He took down a little round mirror, no bigger than his hand, and put itto Gerard's mouth and nostrils, and held it there. When he withdrew itit was dull.
"THERE IS LIFE IN HIM!" said Jorian Ketel to himself.
Margaret caught the words instantly, though only muttered, and it was asif a statue should start into life and passion. She rose and flung herarms round Jorian's neck.
"Oh bless the tongue that tells me so!" and she clasped the great roughfellow again and again, eagerly, almost fiercely.
"There, there! let us lay him warm," said Jorian; and in a moment heraised Gerard, and laid him on the bed-clothes. Then he took out a flaskhe carried, and filled his hand twice with Schiedamze, and flung itsharply each time in Gerard's face. The pungent liquor co-operated withhis recovery--he gave a faint sigh. Oh, never was sound so joyful tohuman ear! She flew towards him, but then stopped, quivering for fearshe should hurt him. She had lost all confidence in herself.
"That is right--let him alone," said Jorian: "don't go cuddling him asyou did me, or you'll drive his breath back again. Let him alone: he issure to come to. 'Tisn't like as if he was an old man."
Gerard sighed deeply, and a faint streak of colour stole to his lips.Jorian made for the door. He had hardly reached it, when he found hislegs seized from behind.
It was Margaret! She curled round his knees like a serpent, and kissedhis hand, and fawned on him. "You won't tell? You have saved his life;you have not the heart to thrust him back into his grave, to undo yourown good work?"
"No, no! It is not the first time I've done you two a good turn; 'twas Itold you in the church whither we had to take him. Besides, what is DirkBrower to me? I'll see him hanged ere I'll tell him. But I wish you'dtell _me_ where the parchments are? There are a hundred crowns offeredfor them. That would be a good windfall for my Joan and the children,you know."
"Ah! they shall have those hundred crowns."
"What! are the things in the house?" asked Jorian, eagerly.
"No; but I know where they are: and, by God and St. Bavon I swear youshall have them to-morrow. Come to me for them when you will, but comealone."
"I were mad, else. What! share the hundred crowns with Dirk Brower? Andnow may my bones rot in my skin if I let a soul know the poor boy ishere."
He then ran off, lest by staying longer he should excite suspicion, andhave them all after him. And Margaret knelt, quivering from head tofoot, and prayed beside Gerard, and for Gerard.
"What is to do?" replied Jorian, to Dierich Brower's query; "why we havescared the girl out of her wits. She was in a kind of fit."
"We had better all go and doctor her, then."
"Oh yes! and frighten her into the churchyard. Her father is a doctor,and I have roused him, and set him to bring her round. Let us see thefire, will ye?"
His off-hand way disarmed all suspicion. And soon after the party agreedthat the kitchen of the "Three Kings" was much warmer than Peter'shouse, and they departed, having first untied Martin.
"Take note, mate, that I was right, and the burgomaster wrong," saidDierich Brower, at the door: "I said we should be too late to catch him,and we were too late."
Thus Gerard, in one terrible night, grazed the prison and the grave.
And how did he get clear at last? Not by his cunningly contrivedhiding-place, nor by Margaret's ready wit; but by a good impulse in oneof his captors, by the bit of humanity left in a somewhat recklessfellow's heart, aided by his desire of gain. So mixed and seeminglyincongruous are human motives, so short sighted our shrewdest counsels.
* * * * *
They whose moderate natures, or gentle fates, keep them, in life'spassage, from the fierce extremes of joy and anguish our nature iscapable of, are perhaps the best, and certainly the happiest, ofmankind. But to such readers I should try in vain to convey what blissunspeakable settled now upon these persecuted lovers. Even to those whohave joyed greatly, and greatly suffered, my feeble art can present buta pale reflection of Margaret's and Gerard's ecstasy.
To sit and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, tohealth and beauty by swift gradations; to see the roses return to theloved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye, and his words to the lovedmouth; this was Margaret's--a joy to balance years of sorrow. It wasGerard's to awake from a trance, and find his head pillowed onMargaret's arm; to hear the woman he adored murmur new words of eloquentlove, and shower tears and tender kisses and caresses on him. He neverknew, till this sweet moment, how ardently, how tenderly, she loved him.He thanked his enemies. They wreathed their arms sweetly round eachother, and trouble and danger seemed a world, an age, behind them. Theycalled each other husband and wife. Were they not solemnly betrothed?And had they not stood before the altar together? Was not the blessingof Holy Church upon their union?--her curse on all who would part them?
But as no woman's nerves can bear with impunity so terrible a strain,presently Margaret turned faint, and sank on Gerard's shoulder, smilingfeebly, but quite, quite unstrung. Then Gerard was anxious, and wouldseek assistance. But she held him with a gentle grasp, and implored himnot to leave her for a moment. "While I can lay my hand on you, I feelyou are safe, not else. Foolish Gerard! nothing ails me. I am weak,dearest, but happy, oh! so happy."
Then it was Gerard's turn to support that dear head, with its greatwaves of hair flowing loose over him, and nurse her, and soothe her,quivering on his bosom, with soft encouraging words and murmurs of love,and gentle caresses. Sweetest of all her charms is a woman's weakness toa manly heart.
Poor things! they were happy. To-morrow they must part. But that wasnothing to them now. They had seen Death, and all other troubles seemedlight as air. While there is life there is hope: while there is hopethere is joy. Separation for a year or two, what was it to them, whowere so young, and had caught a glimpse of the grave? The future wasbright, the present was Heaven: so passed the blissful hours.
Alas! their innocence ran other risks besides the prison and the grave:they were in most danger from their own hearts and their inexperience,now that visible danger there was none.