XVIII
The girl Yeoland saw nothing of the leper for a season. For several daysshe did not venture far into the pine forest, and the nameless graveheard not the sound of her lute. The third night after the incident, asshe lay in her room under her canopy of purple cloth, she hearddistinctly the silver clangour of a bell floating up through themidnight silence. She lay as still as a mouse, and scarcely drewbreath, for fear the man in grey should venture up the stairway. Thecasement was open, with a soft June air blowing in like peace. The bellcontinued to tinkle, but less noisily, till it vanished into silence.
Other folk from the cliff had seen the leper, and Yeoland could notclaim to have monopolised the gentleman. One of Fulviac's fellows hadseen him one morning near the cliff, gliding like a grey ghost among thepines. Another had marked him creeping swiftly away through thetwilight. It was a superstitious age and a superstitious region. Thefigure in grey seemed to haunt the place, with the occasional andmournful sounding of its bell. Men began to gossip, as the ignorantalways will. Fulviac himself grew uneasy for more material reasons, andcontemplated the test of a clothyard shaft or a bolt upon the leper'sbody. The man might be a spy, and if the bolt missed its mark it wouldat least serve as a sinister hint to this troublesome apparition.
It was then that Yeoland took alarm into her woman's heart. There wasgreat likelihood of the man ending his days under the tree with a shaftsticking fast between his shoulders. Though he was something of amadman, she did not relish such a prospect. The day after she had heardthe bell at midnight near the stair she haunted the forest like a pixie,keeping constant watch between the cliff and the forest grave. Fulviachad ridden out on a plundering venture, and she was free of him for theday.
It was not till evening that she heard the faint signal of the bell,creeping down through the gold-webbed boughs like the sound of a distantangelus. The sound flew from the north, and beckoned her towards theforest grave. Fearful of being caught, she followed it as fast as herfeet could carry her, while the deepening clamour led her on. Presentlyshe called the man by name as she ran. His grey frock and cowl camedimly through the trees.
"At last you are merciful," was his greeting.
She stood still and twisted her gown restlessly between her two hands.Anarchy showed in her face; fear, reason, and desire were calling to herheart. The intangible touch of the man's soul threw her being intochaos. She feared greatly for him, stood still, and could say nothing.Flavian put his cowl back, and stood aloof from her, looking in herface.
"Seemingly we are both embarrassed," he said.
She made a petulant little gesture. He forestalled her in speech.
"It is best to be frank when life runs deep. I will speak the truth toyou, and you may treat me as you will."
Yeoland leant against a tree, and began to pull away the brittle scalesof the bark.
"If you stay here longer, messire----" she began.
"Well, madame, what then?"
"You will be shot like a dog; you are suspected; they are going to tryyour leper's gown with a crossbow bolt."
The man smiled optimistically.
"And you came to tell me this?"
"Yes."
"I thank you."
The wind moved through the trees; a fir-cone came pattering through thebranches and fell at their feet. On the cliff a horn blared; itsthroaty cry came echoing faintly through the trees.
Flavian looked towards the gold of the west. His mood was calm anddeliberate; he had his enthusiasms in leash for the moment, for therewere more mundane matters in his mind--matters that were not savoury,however crimson shone the ideal years.
"I have thrown down the glove," he said, "for good or evil, honour ordishonour. I will tell you the whole truth."
Yeoland, watching his face, felt her impatient dreads goad her to thequick.
"Will you talk for ever?" she said to him.
"Take the core then. I am going to rend my bonds as I would rend flax.I have appealed to the Church; I have poured out gold."
"To the point, messire."
"I shall divorce my wife."
He threw his head back, and challenged the world in her one person. Hergood favour was more to him than the patronage of Pope or King. It wasin his mind that she should believe the worst of him from the beginning,so that in some later season he might not emulate Lucifer, toppled outof the heaven of her heart. She should have the truth from the first,and build her opinion of him on no fanciful basis. Even in this justiceto the more sinister side of his surroundings, he was an idealist,thorough and enthusiastic.
"So you must understand, madame, that I am not without blemishes, notwithout things that I myself would rather see otherwise. With me it isa question of going to hell for a woman, or getting rid of her. Beingan egotist, I choose the latter alternative."
Yeoland still evaded his eyes.
"And the woman loves you?"
"Not an atom; she only cares to be called the Lady of Gambrevault,Signoress of Avalon, the first dame in the south."
"Why do you tell me this?"
"Madame, have I need of more words? It is for this: that you might notpicture me as I am not, or form any false conception of me. I havebared my moral skeleton to you. Perhaps you will never know what itcosts a man at times to make his mind as glass to the woman he honoursabove the whole world."
"Well?"
"It is because I honour you that I have goaded myself to tell you thewhole truth."
Her verdict was more sudden and more human than he might have expected.
"Messire, you are a brave man," she said; "I believe I am beginning totrust you."
The sky flamed into sunset; the tracery of the trees seemed webbed withgold into shimmering domes and fans of quivering light. In thedistance, the great cliff stood out darkly from the scarlet caverns ofthe west. The pine tops rose like the black spires of some vast city.Above, floated clouds, effulgent mounts of fire, hurled from the abysmalfurnace of the sun.
Flavian came two steps nearer to the woman, leaning against the tree.
"Give me my due," he said; "I have uncovered the difficult workings ofmy heart, I have shown you the inner man in his meaner mould. Suffer meto speak of my manhood in godlier words. I have shown you Winter; letme utter forth Spring."
Yeoland turned and faced him at last.
"You have risked your life and my honour long enough," she said, "I amgoing back to the cliff."
"And I with you, as far as the stairway."
"To the threshold of death."
"What care I if I tread it at your side?"
She turned homewards with obstinate intent, and the mild hauteur of agood woman. The man followed her, went with her step for step, lookingin her face.
"Hear my confession," he said; "you shall have it before you leave me.For the sake of your honour, I hold my soul by the collar. But--but, Ishall win liberty, liberty. When I am free, ah, girl, girl, I shallflash golden wings in the face of the sun. I shall soar to you that Imay look into your eyes, that I may touch your hands, and breathe thewarm summer of your soul. I want God, I want purity, I want the Eternalpeace, I want your heart. I have said the whole; think of me what youwill."
Twilight had gathered; all the violet calmness of the night came downupon the world. Under the shadows of the tall trees, the girl wasdeeply stirred beyond her own compassion. She halted, hesitated, wentsuddenly near the man with her face turned heavenwards like a new-spreadflower. Her eyes were very wistful, and she spoke almost in a whisper.
"You have told me the whole truth, you have shown me your whole soul?"
"As I serve you, madame, I have kept nothing back."
"Ah, messire, I will speak to you the truth in turn. God be merciful tome, but you have come strangely near my heart. These are bitter wordsfor my soul. Ah, messire, if you have any honour for me, trust me that Iaspire to heaven. I cannot suffer you to come deeper into my life."
&
nbsp; The man held out his hands.
"Why, why?"
"Because in following me, you go innocently to your death."
He lifted up his arms, and leapt into heroics like an Apollo leapinginto a blood-red sky.
"What care I; you speak in riddles; can I fear death?"
"Messire, messire, it is the woman who fears. I tell you this, because,because--God help me----"
She fled away, but that night he did not follow her.
Love Among the Ruins Page 18