Gabriel and the Hour Book

by Evaleen Stein

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE KING'S MESSENGER

  NOW while all these things had been going on, poor Gabriel had beengrowing more wretchedly unhappy day by day. His people had become poorerand poorer, and the long, cold winter was upon them. They had almostgiven up hope of the release of peasant Viaud from prison, and did notknow where they could get bread or fire to keep them alive through thebitter cold. Sometimes Gabriel thought with despair of how much he hadhoped from his little prayer! For he was sure, by this time, that Godwas angry with him for daring to put it in the beautiful book.

  And to add the last touch to his distress, he had been obliged to giveup his work and lessons at the Abbey; for Brother Stephen had been illfor a time, and unable to paint, and all the other monks hadcolour-grinders of their own. So Gabriel, who could not afford to beidle even for a few days, had been forced to seek employment elsewhere.

  The only work he could find was with a leather dresser in the village ofSt. Martin's, and though it was very hard and distasteful to him, hefelt that he must keep at it, as he could thus earn a few pennies moreeach day than he could as colour-grinder at the Abbey. And yet, with allhis hard toil, the little sum he brought home at night was far fromenough to keep them all from want, to say nothing of paying the taxwhich still hung over them; and so every day they became more hopelessand discouraged.

  Indeed, in those times, when a peasant family fell under the displeasureof their noble lord, it was a bitter misfortune, for there were fewplaces to which they might turn for help.

  And it seemed to Gabriel especially hard to bear all their troubles inthe gracious Christmas season; for it was now past the middle ofDecember. Always before they had had enough for their happy littleChristmas feast, and some to spare. They had always had their sheaf ofwheat put by for the birds; and for two seasons past Gabriel's fatherhad let him climb up the tall ladder and fasten the holiday sheaf, boundwith its garland of greens, to the roof of the little peaked and gableddovecote that stood on top of a carved pole in the centre of thefarmyard. For every Norman peasant always wishes the birds, too, to behappy at the joyous Christmas-tide.

  And always, every Christmas eve, when Gabriel and his little brothersand sister had gone to bed, they had set their wooden shoes in a row onthe hearthstone; and then in the morning when they wakened up, theyalways found that the blessed Christ-child had been there in the night,and filled all the little shoes with red apples and nuts.

  But this Christmas-time everything was so sad and changed, they weresure even the Christ-child would forget them. And, day by day, thelittle supply of coarse meal for their black bread grew smaller andsmaller, and the snow became deeper, and the wintry winds blew more coldand cruelly.

  Meantime, King Louis's messenger was travelling as fast as he could,and three days before Christmas he arrived at St. Martin's Abbey. TheAbbot was greatly surprised to see him, and still more so when he askedif he might speak privately with Brother Stephen. This the Abbotgranted, though he was very anxious to know the messenger's errand; forhe could think of no reason for it, unless there had been somethingwrong with King Louis's book. So he was quite uneasy as he saw themessenger enter Brother Stephen's cell and close the door.

  Brother Stephen, too, was at first much surprised when his visitor toldhim he had come from King Louis to inquire about a peasant boy by thename of Gabriel Viaud; though in a moment it flashed through his mindthat Gabriel's prayer had found its way to the palace, and that theanswer was coming.

  He said nothing of this, however, but when the messenger asked if he hadhad such a boy for colour-grinder, he eagerly answered:

  "Yes, and there lives no manlier and sweeter-spirited lad in allFrance!"

  "Is it true," continued the messenger, "that Count Pierre de Bouchagehath imprisoned his father for failure to pay a tax, and that the familyare now in sore distress?"

  "Yes, that also is true," replied the monk very sadly. And then he saidbeseechingly: "But surely King Louis will help them? Surely ourgracious sovereign will not allow such injustice and cruelty?"

  Here the messenger answered:

  "Nay, our sovereign is indeed a generous monarch! Else had he not beentouched by the little prayer which the peasant lad placed in the bookthou madest for the Lady Anne. Though I dare say thou knewest naught ofit" (here Brother Stephen smiled gently, but said nothing), "yet so thelad did. And 'twas because of that scrap of parchment falling under theeyes of King Louis, that I have journeyed all the way from Paris. And,"he added, as he remembered the heavy snow through which he had ridden,"it takes a stout heart and a stouter horse to brave thy Norman roadsin December!"

  Then he asked Brother Stephen a great many more questions, and inquiredwhat road to take in order to find Count Pierre's castle, and also theViaud cottage. And then when he had satisfied himself about all thesematters, he went back to the great hall of the Abbey, where the Abbotwas slowly pacing the floor, telling his beads as he walked.

  The Abbot, though very curious as to the reason of the messenger'svisit, asked him no questions other than if the book for Lady Anne hadbeen entirely satisfactory; and he felt relieved when the messengerassured him that so far as he knew both the king and Lady Anne had beengreatly delighted with it. Then, after talking a little while aboutBrother Stephen's artistic work, the messenger briefly explained to theAbbot his errand, and told him that King Louis had ordered him to makehis inquiries about Gabriel as quietly as possible.

  As he heard, the Abbot raised his eyebrows and looked somewhatdisapproving, when he realized that the peasant lad who had dared to puthis page into the beautiful book was the same little colour-grinder whohad had the boldness to speak to him, one day in the garden, and ask himto take off Brother Stephen's chain. However, whatever he may havethought, he kept it to himself; he treated the messenger with muchcourtesy, and, on bidding him good night, invited him to stay as a guestof the Abbey so long as he chose.

  The next morning the messenger rode to the Viaud farm, and, though hedid not go into the cottage, he looked it over carefully and the landabout it; and then he took the highway that led to the castle of CountPierre de Bouchage.

  When he reached the castle, he asked to see Count Pierre, and so wastaken into the great hall, where the count received him in a veryhaughty manner. He became somewhat more polite, however, when he learnedthat King Louis had sent the messenger to him; though he lookeddecidedly blank when the latter presented to him a letter written onparchment and fastened with a wax seal stamped with the king's emblem,which was the print of a little porcupine with the quills on his backstanding up straight, and a crown on top of them.

  On seeing this letter, Count Pierre looked blank because the truth was,that, like many other noble lords at that time, he could read only withgreat difficulty. But then the messenger rather expected this, and so heasked permission to read the parchment to him, and Count Pierrefrowningly assented.

  Indeed, though the messenger pretended not to notice his angry looks, hefrowned blacker and blacker as the reading went on. For King Louisrequested in the letter that Count Pierre at once release from prison inhis castle one Jacques Viaud, peasant on his estate. And the kingfurther said that he himself wished to buy the Viaud cottage and farm,together with a good-sized piece of ground that adjoined it (themessenger, in looking it over that morning, had selected a piece of landwhich was much better soil than the most of the Viaud farm), and hestated that for this purpose he had sent by his messenger a certain sumin gold pieces.

  The king mentioned also that he would like to have the flock of sheep,with the addition of fifty more than had been taken from them, restoredto the Viaud family. And, finally, he said that he desired Count Pierreto do these things in honour of his king's approaching marriage with theLady Anne. For when kings and queens marry, it is generally customaryfor them, and for many of the loyal noblemen who are their subjects, tobestow gifts and benefits upon the poor people, so that every one may beas happy as possible on the royal wedding-day.

  Now Co
unt Pierre really did not care a fig to do honour to King Louis'smarriage, and he was very angry to be asked to release a peasant whomhe had imprisoned, and to restore flocks which he had seized; andespecially was he furious at the request to buy the land, for he did notwish to sell it, and so to lose control over the peasant-folk who livedthere.

  But, nevertheless, in spite of his wrath, the count knew well enoughthat he had no real right to do as he had done, and that King Louis knewit also; and that therefore the very best thing he could do was to obeythe king's wishes at once.

  King Louis had made his letter a polite request rather than a command,because some of his unruly subjects, like Count Pierre, were proud anddifficult to manage, and he wished to settle matters pleasantly andpeaceably, if possible. And so, in asking him to honour the royalwedding, he gave the count an excuse to yield to his king's wishes,without hurting his pride so much as if he were obliged to obey acommand.

  Count Pierre began to see this, too; and, moreover, he knew that,notwithstanding the politeness of his letter, the king had plenty ofsoldiers, and that he would not hesitate to send them to the Castle deBouchage, if necessary, to bring its lord to terms. And he very wiselyreflected that to fight King Louis would be a much more dangerous andexpensive undertaking than the private war with the Baron of Evreux,which he already had on his hands.

  Before yielding to the requests in the letter, however, Count Pierrewished to satisfy himself that the messenger had correctly read it tohim. And so, haughtily demanding it for a few minutes, he hurried out ofthe hall, and sent a page scampering off to bring to him a troubadour;for one or more of these wandering singers were always to be found inevery nobleman's castle, and the count knew that most of them couldread.

  When in a few minutes the page came back, followed, close at his heels,by a man in motley dress, with a viol hung over his shoulders, CountPierre, without waiting to greet the latter, thrust the parchment intohis hands with the gruff command:

  "There, fellow! read this letter for me instantly! and if thou makest asingle mistake, I will have thee strangled with the strings of thine ownviol, and tumbled off the highest turret of this castle before set ofsun!"

  At this fierce threat, the troubadour began at once to read, taking careto make no mistakes. Count Pierre listened attentively to every word,and when the troubadour came to the end, having read it exactly as themessenger had done, the count angrily snatched it from his hands, and,swallowing his rage as best he could, went slowly back to the castlehall.

  Then, after a few moments' silence, he very ungraciously andill-naturedly gave orders that peasant Viaud be released from prison,and the sheep sent back. He made a very wry face over the fifty extraones, and did not look at all anxious to celebrate King Louis'sapproaching wedding.

  And then he took the gold pieces which the messenger offered him, andreluctantly scrawled his name (it was all he could write, and that verybadly) to a piece of parchment which the messenger had ready, and which,when Count Pierre had signed it, proved that he had sold to King Louisthe land and cottage, and no longer held control over peasant Viaud orany of his family.

  When this was done, the messenger, bidding the nobleman a courteousfarewell, left the latter still very angry and scowling, and, above all,lost in amazement that King Louis should take all this trouble onaccount of a poor, unknown peasant, who had lived all his life on a tinyfarm in Normandy! And as no one ever explained things to him, CountPierre never did know how it had all come about, and that, however muchagainst his will, he was doing his part toward helping answer Gabriel'slittle prayer.