rose and bound up her hair; the rosy morning light shone into the room,
and coloured the pale, worn face of the Count's daughter. She would
have gone to meet Geoffroy had her knees supported her; as it was she
was standing in the middle of the room when he entered. He, too, was
pale, and as he bent before her, it struck Aigleta that he did not
raise the leathern cap which covered one-half of his brow. But Garcinde
saw nothing but his eyes which sought to avoid hers.
"You bring no comfort?" she said. "I knew it." Then seating herself on
a bench in the window, she listened impassively to what he narrated
with a faltering voice.
He reached Gaillac that same evening, for he had not spared his horse.
When he was ushered into the hall where the Count was, he found him at
supper, a couple of his riotous companions with him, and the one of his
mistresses who just then was highest in his favour. On a low stool at
his feet crouched a mis-shapen dwarf, who played the part of fool and
fed his dogs. The beautiful bold woman sat by his side, and poured him
out red wine into a silver goblet, putting her lips to it before he
drained it at a draught. "They all looked at me," said Geoffroy, "as
though I arrived very opportunely to divert their dulness by some
novelty or other, for none of them appeared in spirits except the fool,
who with shallow jests that waked no laughter, went on throwing
fragments of food to the dogs. I delivered your letter without speaking
a word, and while the Count unfolded and read it, I could not but think
how she who wrote it would have been received at such a table. The
thought made the blood rush to my head, and such a giddiness came over
me that I was obliged to lean upon my sword. One of the guests who
noticed this ordered that wine should be brought me, for I must be
weary and thirsty after my rapid ride, but I shook my head and said I
would only await the answer, and then return at once. Meanwhile the
Count had read the letter, and made it over in silence to his
neighbour; she had scarcely run her eyes over the first few lines
before she burst out into loud laughter. 'A sermon!' she cried, 'God's
death! You are going to get a saint for a wife,' and then she began to
read the letter aloud, line for line; and the words that would have
made stones weep and moved the gates of hell, waked only mocking echoes
here. Blasphemies and impious jests broke out, interrupting the
reading. Then the woman rose, and casting a proud look upon the Count,
said with curled lip, 'The saint may come and welcome. I was averse to
her, thinking she might turn your heart from us all and rule here
alone, but now that I have read her letter I am not afraid of her. You,
Pierre de Gaillac are not the man to wear a hair-shirt and a prickly
girdle. You are accustomed to the fires of hell, and the air of
heaven would but chill you. In hell, however, there is more joy over
one who sickens of penance and returns to his evil ways than over
ninety-and-nine lost souls. Whereupon I empty this goblet to the last
drop, and call upon you to pledge me.' She drank, the Count drew her
closer to his side, and whispered something into her ear that made her
laugh loud. They all seemed to have forgotten the messenger who had
brought the letter; the letter itself was handed to the others, and
when it came back to the Count, the dwarf snatched at it and cried,
'You have not read it rightly, godmother. Now listen how it ought to be
sung to move you all to laughter,' and he began to read it once more
aloud in the manner in which they chant litanies in church, wagging
head and hands like a preacher giving out the blessing, and if they had
all laughed the first time, they knew not now what to do, they held
their sides and groaned out responses. At last rage got the better of
me. I sprang upon the shameless fellow, tore the letter from him, and
struck him such a blow that he rolled over backwards, and upset the
silver vessel that held the food for the dogs. 'If I am to obtain no
answer,' I cried, 'worthy of the lady who has sent me here, I will at
least silence the daring mouth that has mocked at a noble virgin, and
dragged the words of a pure and lofty soul through the mire!'
"For a moment there was silence. I even thought I might pass through
the hall unhindered, but I had reckoned without my host. Servants
rushed in, the guests raged and railed at me, the dogs howled, but the
Count still sat in his place, pale as death, and motionless with fury,
and the woman by his side shot fiery looks at me. When--a quarter of an
hour later--I found myself on damp straw behind a bolted door, a wound
in my head, and darkness before my eyes, I thanked my Saviour that I
was delivered from the neighbourhood of those brutal men, and could no
longer hear them blaspheme the name dearest to me. I do not know how I
passed the night and the following day. I think I must have slept
through them, but about the middle of the second night, I was gently
waked by a soft hand passing over my face, and the light of a small
lamp shone into my eyes. It was the Count's mistress who stood before
me there, and signed to me to be silent; gently she led me up the
broken stairs, through empty passages and halls to a narrow door of
which she had the key. 'I cannot let you starve to death in unbroken
darkness down there,' said she. 'Outside you will find your horse and
something to eat at the saddle-bow. Fly! if ever thou needest a friend
come to Carcassonne, and ask for Agnes the Sardinian. You will easily
find me out.' She waited an answer, perhaps she had even dreamed of a
tenderer farewell, but as I was silent she opened the door, and again
passed her hand over my blood-stained hair. 'Poor youth,' said she,
'thou deservedst a better fate.' Then I leapt into the saddle, and
spurred my horse hard, and thus I rode on without stopping, for in the
night air my senses gradually awoke and the fever of my wound left me.
And here I am--and this is all the answer that I bring back."
So saying he bared his head, and showed his brow--a thick curl of his
hair lay upon the wound and seemed to have stanched its bleeding.
Then Garcinde rose from her seat and advanced towards him as though she
had something to say, but she stopped short and remained speechless
with downcast eyes before him. Aigleta was the one to speak. "I will go
and bring linen and salves to dress the wound properly," said she; then
she looked at her friend as though she had some quite other thought,
secretly sighed, and left the two alone. And scarcely had she turned
away when Geoffroy fell on his knees before the fair and silent
mourner, and cried as he seized her hands' and pressed them
passionately to his heart: "Command me--what shall I do? For my life is
worthless to me unless I can offer it up to thee. Never should I have
betrayed the sweet pangs I endured, if sorrow had not overshadowed
thee. But now thou art no longer the Countess, the proud daughter of
Malaspina, at whom I gazed as at a star far above me. Thine is a poor
unfortunate tortured heart which will not despise another heart which
devotes itself to thee for life and death. Oh, cousin! loveliest love,
say but one word, and I mount again the horse that still stands saddled
in the courtyard, to ride back to Gaillac, and plunge this dagger into
the breast of the enemy of thy honour and peace, in the midst of all
his boon companions, even though his dogs should tear me to pieces the
next moment!"
Then she bent down towards him, and for the first time a smile played
over her pale face. "Jaufret," said she, pressing her lips to his
blood-stained brow; "the fever of thy wound shows in thy speech. Go and
lie down, and let Aigleta--who understands such tasks--wash away the
blood and dress thy wound, and then refresh thyself with sleep and
food. For by our dear lady of Mont Salvair I accept the life you offer
me. I am no rich countess to disdain such a gift, and yet I am rich
enough to repay it. While you were relating your adventure--hideous and
cruel enough to destroy all hope--I was considering what I would and
could do. But this is not the time for talking. See, here comes your
doctress, I make you over to her, and you must do all she tells you,
and if you are tractable and obedient, be sure, cousin, you shall not
rue it! See that he sleeps and gets strong, Aigleta," she said to her
friend, who nodded, and looked as though she understood more than was
uttered. Meanwhile, the youth who still gazed at Garcinde in utmost
perplexity, had risen from his knees, and loosed her hands. He could
not understand how she could be so composed since he had brought her no
hope. But half from the exhaustion of his wound, and half from his
blind confidence in her strong and lofty nature, he parted from her
with a lightened heart, and followed Aigleta who had now lost all her
gaiety. "What can she be planning?" said he to the girl, as they both
went down the stair together. "Who can tell--obey and sleep," said
Aigleta with a quick hoarse voice, and then turning her head away, she
added, "The Lord gives to those He loves in sleep."
She led him into his turret hermitage; she saw to his wound, which was
indeed but slight, and already disposed to heal; she furnished him with
all that he could need for refreshment, and then seeing that his eyes
were growing heavy she left him.
She herself, however, did not instantly return to Garcinde; she still
lingered among the roses, made a nosegay, pulled it to pieces again,
and when at last she returned to the castle, her eyes were red, and she
washed them long with cold water that no one should observe it.
Geoffroy only slept a few hours: then he awoke a new man, with brow
cool, thanks to Aigleta's salve, and heart on fire, thanks to the
mysterious hope-encouraging words of his cousin. Like a wanderer on
whom the fairy of the woods has bestowed the wishing-rod, by which at
the hour of midnight he may find and possess himself of a treasure, and
who dreams away the intervening time, so the youth sat hour after hour,
gazing only at the sunbeam which slowly moved along the stone floor,
and listening only to the song of the birds around his turret. No one
came to disturb him: the servants lay yawning in shady corners of the
court, the horses were stamping in the stable to shake off the flies;
both girls had locked themselves up in their castle chamber, and did
not appear all day. Once only through his narrow window did he catch
sight of Sir Hugo, who stepped out on the balcony before his chamber,
and looked down into the castle moat as though considering whether it
would not be better for him to dash himself to pieces there. His hair
and beard had become white as snow, his face was worn to a shadow; soon
he vanished again like a restless ghost. And now the sun went down, and
the moon rose above the wood, and silvered the rose-garden around
Geoffrey's tower. The birds were silent, but the bull-frogs in the moat
seemed to croak the louder, and in the distance a nightingale's song
was heard. It was so light in the tower that the youth could read every
letter in his parchment book, but he knew not what he was reading.
Another hour passed away, and yet another, and then light and rapid
steps along the narrow path woke the listener out of his trance. He
rushed to the door and threw it open wide, and saw with amazement not
only the one that his heart foretold, but her friend also beside her on
the threshold. They greeted him with a silent nod, and it was only when
they had passed into his narrow chamber that Garcinde shyly spoke, "You
see that I keep my word, cousin, but have you not in the course of the
day changed your mind? Do you not regret what you said to me this
morning?" and as he looked at her with mute enquiry she blushingly
continued: "That you loved me, Jaufret, loved me more than your life,
and would devote that life to me in sorrow until death. You may speak
out your heart openly, this faithful friend knows all. She knew even
earlier than I did myself that my heart belonged to thee, as thine to
me. Oh, Jaufret, even at La Vaquiera, when we spoke by night about the
stars, what made me so still and so sad was that I kept saying to
myself, Is there no place amongst those countless orbs where he and I
may belong to each other? Must I lose him whom I have only just
regained? For I foresaw too clearly that my heart and my hand would not
long remain my own. And God is my witness I was resolved to obey my
father, had he betrothed me to any worthy husband, however distasteful
he might have proved. But to fall a victim in an unholy hour to the
mere chance of the dice, that cannot be God's will, though he has
commanded us to honour father and mother; for I have in dreams seen my
mother weeping over me, and I know that were she still living, she
would go with me into poverty rather than give me to such a husband.
And therefore am I come to thee, my beloved, and if thou art in earnest
as I believe and know thou art, I will in this very hour before God and
this witness, take thee for my husband, and fly forth with thee into
the wide world. And sure am I that when our flight is discovered, my
father will not mount his horse and follow us to punish the son as he
did the father; he knows that he dare not judge, that a judge should
have a guiltless heart. But we--where shall we fly? Are not all places
home to us, so I am with thee, Jaufret, and thou with thy Garcinde?"
With these words she gave him her little hand, but while he, in a
transport of silent rapture, took it and held it fast, Aigleta stepped
forward and said in her lively way, and with a smiling face. "Just look
at this coy gentleman, Garcinde. Can this be the son of the man whose
lips overflowed with sweetest sayings, and not a single poor word falls
from _his_ mouth; even when one brings him the fairest of count's
daughters, who whistles all the castles and lands of Gaillac down the
wind, in order to beg her way through the world with this helpless
lover. But come, come, we cannot wait till a miracle is wrought, and
the dumb regains his speech. You must exchange rings, and pronounce the
marriage-vow, and then go forth and far away, and I--poor forsaken
one--have only to make the sign of the cross behind you; for to me you
are dead and buried, that I know all too well. I shall--"
Her voice broke down, spite of all her self-control and her effort to
smile, and she had to stoop and pretend to adjust her shoe, that her
tears might drop unnoticed. Geoffroy, meantime, had collected himself
and now drew a ring from his finger.
"Do you know it?" he said to Garcinde. "With this little ring my father
betrothed himself to my mother, and as in his case it betokened the
firmest constancy--a constancy that was sealed by death--I now give it
to thee, my passionately loved bride, and swear in presence of the Holy
Trinity, and before our true friend, I will never be the husband of any
other woman than Garcinde of Malaspina."
"And I will never be the wife of any other man than my Geoffroy," said
the bride.
"Amen. So be it," said Aigleta, in corroboration of their vow,
laying--after the exchange of rings--their hands together. Then the
pair knelt down before the picture of the Mother of God, and remained
for a short season, in silent prayer. But when they rose again and sank
into each other's arms, and with heart on heart, and mouth on mouth,
ratified their holy vow, the witness slipped softly away. By-and-bye,
they found her outside amongst the roses, of which she had woven two
garlands. "No wedding without a garland," said she, and smiled, though
her eyes were wet, while she crowned them both. Then the youth hurried
to the stable and noiselessly saddled his horse and led him to the
garden, where Garcinde lay on the breast of her friend, and whispered
amidst her tears: "I know why thou weepest. God make thee as happy as
thou hast been brave, and true to me."
They set off quietly, Geoffroy leading the horse, who with dilated
nostrils snorted at the moonlight, the girls following him over the
bridge; then he lifted his young wife into the saddle, sprang up
himself behind her, and waving his hand to Aigleta, spurred his
faithful charger on. It did not feel the weight it bore too heavy, for
with the exception of his sword and dagger, Geoffroy had taken nothing
with him but his father's song-book, and Garcinde only a few ornaments
which she had inherited from her mother, and which her father had never
touched. Thus, then, they rode through the moonlit forest. They did not
say much: every now and then when the horse was slowly crossing boggy
ground, she would turn half round to him, and then he kissed her cheek,
and her black eyes smiled while she whispered, "My dearest husband."
She rested in his arms so sweetly, and the good horse trod so securely,
that they hardly realised their circumstances--a hasty flight by
night--a dark future before them--but enjoyed their bliss as though no
shadow of care and danger hung over their love.
But when they got out of the wood and reached the hill from whence
Garcinde a few days ago had first beheld again her father's castle, she
suddenly pulled the rein and turned the horse round.
"What ails thee, sweet wife? And why dost thou halt here?" asked
Geoffroy.
She did not reply, but gazed over the wide plain towards the dark pile
with its leaden-roofed turrets that shone in the moonlight.
"What is it that you see, dearest?" asked the youth, who felt her
tremble on his breast, as though a frosty chill had overtaken her on
the warm summer night. "Let us look forwards, not back. Our happiness
lies before us." But she only shook her head sorrowfully, turned away
when he wished to kiss her, and said not a word. All of a sudden she
had seemed to see in the deserted castle her father with a taper in his
hand wandering from room to room, and crying, "Where is my daughter
Garcinde? I have pledged my honour, she must redeem my pledge. Where is
my child, and where is my honour? I was a beggar. I had nothing but my
unstained name, and now that is lost. The last of the Malaspina has
destroyed the good fame of the house, for she knows that I can no
longer pursue her as in former years I should have done. I am old and
sick, and a sinful man. Now, therefore, I must go down disgraced to the
grave, for mine enemy will say I have connived at this, and that to
avoid paying my debt, I have preferred even to give my last jewel to a
beggar, than to the creditor I hated!" Then again this image vanished,
and she now saw herself and her lover pursued on strange roads by an
angry band, Pierre de Gaillac at their head, resolved to claim his
bride from her ravisher. She saw her Jaufret fight with the energy of a
despairing man, and yet at length conquered by numbers, shed his life's
blood on the green grass, and she heard the mocking conqueror laugh,
"So thou enviest me my gains at play, thou player's son; the creditor
reclaims the debt the debtor would have withheld from him!" Then a
deadly shudder passed over her; she thought for a moment that her heart
had ceased to beat. All the joys of her young love seemed crushed by an
icy hand. She knew now that what had appeared to her in her trouble a
way of escape and an immeasurable bliss was a false dream; that she
should but bring death and ruin to both the beings whom she supremely
loved!
"For the love of the Saints!" cried Geoffroy, who felt her cherished
form grow heavy as a lifeless body in his embrace, "come to thyself
again. What fearful thoughts hast thou in thy mind that thus thy lips
move silently as though speaking with the departed? Give me the bridle
and let us turn to life, to liberty. The spirits that hover over those
towers will have no power over thee when once thou art the other side
of this hill. Wilt thou make us both wretched? Wilt thou even--"
He stopped when he saw the stony eyes of his young wife from which
every beam of hope and joy had utterly vanished. But this did not last
long, the convulsion was now over. She gave a deep sigh, turned on him
eyes of yearning love, and said, while endeavouring to smile:
"I have scared thee; forgive me, my beloved. What have we two to fear
from any spirits that may hover over that house and envy us our bliss.
Thou, my husband, and I, thy wife, eternally one, body and soul! But I
have been thinking about our flight, that it is not the will of Heaven;
and if we persisted, Jaufret, against my conscience, we should be
punished, and should end as miserably as did thy father and my dear
aunt. Trust to me, I have another idea which thou shalt know tomorrow
early. Thou wilt praise thy wife when thou seest how she has contrived
both to pay the debt to the creditor, and yet to be the wife of no man
except her dearest cousin, to whom she has given herself in the
presence of God. Lift me down from the saddle, I do not wish to ride
any longer. If it pleases you, my husband, let us walk back through the
wood, there are still many hours before day, and a fairer wedding-night
no count's daughter could ever wish for. And now kiss me, so that I may
again see a smile on thy lips; for truly this poor life is too short
for us to spoil even one moment of it by care and gloom." He
reluctantly did what she required of him; but when he took her into his
arms and their lips met, he could not refrain from asking, "Oh
Garcinde! What art thou thinking of? Hast thou not too much confidence
in thyself, and wilt thou not if thy plan fails make us both eternally
wretched?" But she smiled at him with bright eyes, laid her finger on
his mouth, and said, "You are the happiest married man on earth, Sir
Geoffrey; you have a wife who knows how to keep a secret. But now do
not press me any further. What have we to do with the morrow? To-day
are we already such old married people that we can find more important
subjects to speak of than our love? Say, Jaufret, do I really please
thee better than Agnes of Sardinia, and was her hand when she stroked
thy hair not softer than mine? Nay, but thou must not embrace me so
ardently here, the moon looks too boldly down, and after all she does
not know that thou art my dear husband. Come into the wood, I am weary
with our ride and would fain rest awhile. I know a bank where a brook
runs through the moss, numbers of flowers bloom there, and I will weave
them into fresh garlands, for those Aigleta made are quite crushed.
Poor Aigleta! Dost thou know that she loved thee too well? But that
cannot be helped now: no one can be the husband of two women; that is
against God's law. And I, though I be not indeed better than she, I am
the more unhappy of the two, or at least I should have been if thy
heart, my beautiful love, had not been mine."
With such words as these, which intoxicated the youth like strong wine,
they went down the hill and entered the wood. Their gentle horse
followed them of his own accord, and peacefully grazed near them in the
flowery glade where they laid them down. Through the whole of the night
the brook rippled and the nightingales sang, and the moon shone so
brightly that no one could have thought of sleep, not at least two who
had so much to confide to each other, and knew not whether there would
be time for it on the following day. When the morning drew near, and
the dew began to fall, and a cooler air swept through the wood,
Garcinde arose and said, while a shudder passed over her, "It is
growing cold, my husband. I think we ought to go home." "Where?" asked
he, looking at her in amazement, but she smiled.
"Only come," said she, "I will show you. Can I have any other home than
thine?" With that she took his arm and led him out of the wood, and
over the bridge back into his tower.
"Here let me rest," said she, as she seated herself on his mother's
bed. "Here I would fain sleep for an hour until the sun rises. But
leave me alone, my beloved, otherwise we shall go on talking, and I
shall not be able to close an eye. And give me your song-book too, I
should like to read a verse or two before I fall asleep. And now, one
good-night kiss, and then go! Oh, Jaufret, I love thee more than my
life! Are we not two happy beings to have enjoyed such bliss that
nothing can trouble us. And if we lived a hundred years, could time
make us richer in joys when we have drunk from the cup of eternal
blessedness?" Once more he embraced the lovely one, and kissed her long
and fervently on her mouth. Then he left her alone.
An hour later the cock crew. But it did not wake the youth who lay in
the rose-garden, his cloak thrown over him, smiling in his dream as
though he were inwardly happy, and murmuring the name of his young
wife. Neither did it wake the sleeper in the turret-room, whose lips
were half-open as though they, too, would pronounce a name, but all was
still as death in the dim chamber.