Of another embassy from Sir Folko de Montfaucon.
The first gleams of the morning-red had scarcely appeared over the
hills on the eastern sea-shore, when Gabrielle and Blanchefleur were
already awake and dressed, and stood at their veranda (that was
entwined with vine-branches and shadowed with myrtle), watching for
the appearance of the Chevalier de Montfaucon. They were now the more
anxious that he should come, since during the night their minds had
been so confused by strange visions, that they began afterwards to
doubt whether the adventure of the preceding day, with the falcon and
the rose-coloured parchment, had not been all but a dream!
However, not long after they had taken their place at the window,
a pleasant concert was heard of cymbals, horns, and flutes, which
seemed approaching by a road that wound through a level meadow towards
the palace. Looking thitherward, they perceived that a squadron of
Moorish horsemen were approaching as the van-guard; then followed
many camels and sumpter-horses, loaded with merchandize, covered also
with blue velvet cloth, richly fringed. Hereupon, Blanchefleur and
Gabrielle joyfully recognised the colours of the Montfaucon arms, and
smiled on each other with increasing confidence. Thereafter came the
musicians,--a full band, with many instruments, of which the metal
parts were composed only of the purest silver and gold: the joints
moreover and keys were ornamented with diamonds and emeralds. At last
appeared the lord and master of this grand procession. He was mounted
on a very beautiful mule, so richly covered with embroidered drapery
that the feet only were visible from the ground, and the large dark
eyes rolled within a casement of gold adornments. The noble chevalier
himself was attired in blue and gold silk so richly and magnificently,
that one could not well say whether he was dressed like a Moor or a
Christian. Moreover he sat on a sumpter-saddle like a woman, with a
guitar in his hand, on which he seemed to play, though but few notes
were heard; for the music that was made by his attendants was far
too loud to permit such gentle sounds to reach the listener’s ears.
By the light which gleamed in his eyes, however, one could perceive
that he played somewhat that to his own mind was very delightful; and
this happened just as he first caught sight of Gabrielle behind the
vine-interwoven veranda.
At the first glance, the ladies had recognised the Chevalier de
Montfaucon. Though he now wore an artificial beard on his upper-lip,
another of great length descending from his chin, and a turban of
sky-blue silk round his richly-curled hair, Gabrielle and Blanchefleur
would have distinguished him from among an hundred other champions.
At the same time the noble falcon played round his master, oftentimes
whirling and fluttering before him, as if he had sought to point out
to the damsels the knight whom they already so well knew. Meanwhile
the Prince Mutza never once discovered in the merchant the conqueror
whom he had so shamefully deceived. On the contrary, he came quite
tranquilly and unconcerned out of his palace to meet the strangers,
inquired what goods they had to sell, approved what they offered, and
at last invited the merchant to dine with him in his banquet-hall.
Sir Folko, however, excused himself from accepting this invitation.
He feared that the ladies by their emotion might have betrayed who he
really was; and besides, if he wished to communicate any message, his
falcon would serve him as the most faithful ambassador. Accordingly,
through the next week, that swift and trustworthy servant was often
employed; and by the frequent interchange of the rose-coloured
parchment, it was brought about that the Chevalier de Montfaucon
became aware of the plan already formed by Theobaldo, the Count
de Vinciguerra, and the minstrel Aleard, with whom, of course, he
entered into a bond of friendship. It was only needful to wait for Don
Hernandez, (who had agreed with the Chevalier de Montfaucon to attend
in the harbour of Carthagena,) ere their great adventure was to be
tried and carried through with triumph.
One evening, it was just when the eventful time drew near, the two
damsels were again seated on the grass below the oleander-tree. The
falcon had brought them a new letter, and had seated himself on the
snow-white hand of the Lady Blanchefleur, who, to say the truth, was
afraid of the bird; for she thought he might, from impatience, scratch
her with his long talons. Meanwhile Gabrielle held the parchment in
one hand, and the golden pencil, with which she was wont to write, in
the other, but without setting one word on the rose-coloured leaf
that she held before her. Blanchefleur begged of her not to delay,
for fear that some one from the palace might come to interrupt them;
“and,” added she, “write, if possible, in such manner to the brother
of your faithful friend, that he may not utterly despair; or, if
this cannot be, send him at least some words of consolation in his
distress.” Gabrielle shook her head, with all its beautiful tresses,
gravely and mournfully. She read once more the lines which Sir Folko
had addressed to her, and which were indeed a love-sonnet, of which the
sad music fell so deeply and movingly on her heart, that she began to
weep bitterly. Blanchefleur wept also, and said anxiously, “And will
you not send even one word in answer? Shall this brave knight encounter
such dangers, and meet perchance death, for your sake, without even
the consolation of knowing that you would even heave one sigh for his
untimely fate?” Hereupon they heard the portal of the garden move
on its hinges. They heard even the voice of Mutza; and the falcon
shook his wings and looked round him impatiently. “Haste, oh haste!”
whispered the now trembling Blanchefleur; “my poor brother will die of
grief, if you send back his falcon without an answer.” Terrified, and
scarcely knowing what she did, Gabrielle wrote upon the leaf two little
verses, bidding Sir Folko “live for the sake of her who loved him;”
and Blanchefleur, leaving her no time for reflection, fixed it in the
falcon’s collar, which joyfully flew away swift as an arrow towards his
master. Blanchefleur then fell upon her friend’s neck, and kissed her
with affectionate gratitude.