The Count of Paris and his lady were that night lodged in the Imperial
Palace of the Blacquernal. Their apartments were contiguous, but the
communication between them was cut off for the night by the mutual door
being locked and barred. They marvelled somewhat at this precaution.
The observance, however, of the festival of the Church, was pleaded as
an admissible, and not unnatural excuse for this extraordinary
circumstance. Neither the Count nor his lady entertained, it may be
believed, the slightest personal fear for any thing which could happen
to them. Their attendants, Marcian and Agatha, having assisted their
master and mistress in the performance of their usual offices, left
them, in order to seek the places of repose assigned to them among
persons of their degree.
The preceding day had been one of excitation, and of much bustle and
interest; perhaps, also, the wine, sacred to the Imperial lips, of
which Count Robert had taken a single, indeed, but a deep draught, was
more potent than the delicate and high-flavoured juice of the Gascogne
grape, to which he was accustomed; at any rate, it seemed to him that,
from the time he felt that he had slept, daylight ought to have been
broad in his chamber when he awaked, and yet it was still darkness
almost palpable. Somewhat surprised, he gazed eagerly around, but could
discern nothing, except two balls of red light which shone from among
the darkness with a self-emitted brilliancy, like the eyes of a wild
animal while it glares upon its prey. The Count started from bed to put
on his armour, a necessary precaution if what he saw should really be a
wild creature and at liberty; but the instant he stirred, a deep growl
was uttered, such as the Count had never heard, but which might be
compared to the sound of a thousand monsters at once; and, as the
symphony, was heard the clash of iron chains, and the springing of a
monstrous creature towards the bedside, which appeared, however, to be
withheld by some fastening from attaining the end of its bound. The
roars which it uttered now ran thick on each other. They were most
tremendous, and must have been heard throughout the whole palace. The
creature seemed to gather itself many yards nearer to the bed than by
its glaring eyeballs it appeared at first to be stationed, and how much
nearer, or what degree of motion, might place him within the monster's
reach, the Count was totally uncertain. Its breathing was even heard,
and Count Robert thought he felt the heat of its respiration, while his
defenceless limbs might not be two yards distant from the fangs which
he heard grinding against each other, and the claws which tore up
fragments of wood from the oaken floor. The Count of Paris was one of
the bravest men who lived in a time when bravery was the universal
property of all who claimed a drop of noble blood, and the knight was a
descendant of Charlemagne. He was, however, a man, and therefore cannot
be said to have endured unappalled a sense of danger so unexpected and
so extraordinary. But his was not a sudden alarm or panic, it was a
calm sense of extreme peril, qualified by a resolution to exert his
faculties to the uttermost, to save his life if it were possible. He
withdrew himself within the bed, no longer a place of rest, being thus
a few feet further from the two glaring eyeballs which remained so
closely fixed upon him, that, in spite of his courage, nature painfully
suggested the bitter imagination of his limbs being mangled, torn, and
churned with their life-blood, in the jaws of some monstrous beast of
prey. One saving thought alone presented itself--this might be a trial,
an experiment of the philosopher Agelastes, or of the Emperor his
master, for the purpose of proving the courage of which the Christians
vaunted so highly, and punishing the thoughtless insult which the Count
had been misadvised enough to put upon the Emperor the preceding day.
"Well is it said," he reflected in his agony, "beard not the lion in
his den! Perhaps even, now some base slave deliberates whether I have
yet tasted enough of the preliminary agonies of death, and whether he
shall yet slip the chain which keeps the savage from doing his work.
But come death when it will, it shall never be said that Count Robert
was heard to receive it with prayers for compassion, or with cries of
pain or terror." He turned his face to the wall, and waited, with a
strong mental exertion, the death which he conceived to be fast
approaching.
His first feelings had been unavoidably of a selfish nature. The danger
was too instant, and of a description too horrible, to admit of any
which involved a more comprehensive view of his calamity; and other
reflections of a more distant kind, were at first swallowed up in the
all-engrossing thought of immediate death. But as his ideas became
clearer, the safety of his Countess rushed upon his mind--what might
she now be suffering! and, while he was subjected to a trial so
extraordinary, for what were her weaker frame and female courage
reserved? Was she still within a few yards of him, as when he lay down
the last night? or had the barbarians, who had devised for him a scene
so cruel, availed themselves of his and his lady's incautious
confidence to inflict upon her some villany of the same kind, or even
yet more perfidious? Did she sleep or wake, or could she sleep within
the close hearing of that horrible cry, which shook all around? He
resolved to utter her name, warning her, if possible, to be upon her
guard, and to answer without venturing rashly into the apartment which
contained a guest so horribly perilous.
He uttered, therefore, his wife's name, but in trembling accents, as if
he had been afraid of the savage beast overhearing him.
"Brenhilda! Brenhilda!--there is danger-awake, and speak to me, but do
not arise." There was no answer.--"What am I become," he said to
himself, "that I call upon Brenhilda of Aspramonte, like a child on its
sleeping nurse, and all because there is a wild-cat in the same room
with me? Shame on thee, Count of Paris! Let thy arms be rent, and thy
spurs be hacked from thy heels!--What ho!" he cried aloud, but still
with a tremulous voice, "Brenhilda, we are beset, the foe are upon us!
--Answer me, but stir not."
A deep growl from the monster which garrisoned his apartment was the
only answer. The sound seemed to say, "Thou hast no hope!" and it ran
to the knight's bosom as the genuine expression of despair.
"Perhaps, however, I am still too cold in making my misery known. What
ho! my love! Brenhilda!"
A voice, hollow and disconsolate as that which might have served an
inhabitant of the grave, answered as if from a distance. "What
disconsolate wretch art thou, who expectest that the living can answer
thee from the habitations of the dead?"
"I am a Christian man, a free noble of the kingdom of France," answered
the Count. "Yesterday the captain of five hundred men, the bravest in
France--the bravest, that is, who breathe mortal air--and I am here
without a glimpse of light, to direct me how to avoid the corner in
which lies a wild tiger-cat, prompt to spring upon and to devour me."
"Thou art an example," replied the voice, "and wilt not long be the
last, of the changes of fortune. I, who am now suffering in my third
year, was that mighty Ursel, who rivalled Alexius Comnenus for the
Crown of Greece, was betrayed by my confederates, and being deprived of
that eyesight which is the chief blessing of humanity, I inhabit these
vaults, no distant neighbour of the wild animals by whom they are
sometimes occupied, and whose cries of joy I hear when unfortunate
victims like thyself are delivered up to their fury."
"Didst thou not then hear," said Count Robert, in return, "a warlike
guest and his bride conducted hither last night, with sounds as it
might seem, of bridal music?--O, Brenhilda! hast thou, so young--so
beautiful--been so treacherously done to death by means so unutterably
horrible!"
"Think not," answered Ursel, as the voice had called its owner, "that
the Greeks pamper their wild beasts on such lordly fare. For their
enemies, which term includes not only all that are really such, but all
those whom they fear or hate, they have dungeons whose locks never
revolve; hot instruments of steel, to sear the eyeballs in the head;
lions and tigers, when it pleases them to make a speedy end of their
captives--but these are only for the male prisoners. While for the
women--if they be young and beautiful, the princes of the land have
places in their bed and bower; nor are they employed like the captives
of Agamemnon's host, to draw water from an Argive spring, but are
admired and adored by those whom fate has made the lords of their
destiny."
"Such shall never be the doom of Brenhilda!" exclaimed Count Robert;
"her husband still lives to assist her, and should he die, she knows
well how to follow him without leaving a blot in the epitaph of either."
The captive did not immediately reply, and a short pause ensued, which
was broken by Ursel's voice. "Stranger," he said, "what noise is that I
hear?"
"Nay, I hear nothing," said Count Robert.
"But I do," said Ursel. "The cruel deprivation of my eyesight renders
my other senses more acute."
"Disquiet not thyself about the matter, fellow-prisoner," answered the
Count, "but wait the event in silence."
Suddenly a light arose in the apartment, lurid, red, and smoky. The
knight had bethought him of a flint and match which he usually carried
about him, and with as little noise as possible had lighted the torch
by the bedside; this he instantly applied to the curtains of the bed,
which, being of thin muslin, were in a moment in flames. The knight
sprung, at the same instant, from his bed. The tiger, for such it was,
terrified at the flame, leaped backwards as far as his chain would
permit, heedless of any thing save this new object of terror. Count
Robert upon this seized on a massive wooden stool, which was the only
offensive weapon on which he could lay his hand, and, marking at those
eyes which now reflected the blaze of fire, and which had recently
seemed so appalling, he discharged against them this fragment of
ponderous oak, with a force which less resembled human strength than
the impetus with which an engine hurls a stone. He had employed his
instant of time so well, and his aim was so true, that the missile went
right to the mark and with incredible force. The skull of the tiger,
which might be, perhaps, somewhat exaggerated if described as being of
the very largest size, was fractured by the blow, and with the
assistance of his dagger, which had fortunately been left with him, the
French Count despatched the monster, and had the satisfaction to see
him grin his last, and roll, in the agony of death, those eyes which
were lately so formidable.
Looking around him, he discovered, by the light of the fire which he
had raised, that the apartment in which he now lay was different from
that in which he had gone to bed overnight; nor could there be a
stronger contrast between the furniture of both, than the flickering
half-burnt remains of the thin muslin curtains, and the strong, bare,
dungeon-looking walls of the room itself, or the very serviceable
wooden stool, of which he had made such good use.
The knight had no leisure to form conclusions upon such a subject. He
hastily extinguished the fire, which had, indeed, nothing that it could
lay hold of, and proceeded, by the light of the flambeau, to examine
the apartment, and its means of entrance. It is scarce necessary to
say, that he saw no communication with the room of Brenhilda, which
convinced him that they had been separated the evening before under
pretence of devotional scruples, in order to accomplish some most
villanous design upon one or both of them. His own part of the night's
adventure we have already seen, and success, so far, over so formidable
a danger, gave him a trembling hope that Brenhilda, by her own worth
and valour, would be able to defend herself against all attacks of
fraud or force, until he could find his way to her rescue. "I should
have paid more regard," he said, "to Bohemond's caution last night,
who, I think, intimated to me as plainly as if he had spoke it in
direct terms, that that same cup of wine was a drugged potion. But
then, fie upon him for an avaricious hound! How was it possible I
should think he suspected any such thing, when he spoke not out like a
man, but, for sheer coldness of heart, or base self-interest, suffered
me to run the risk of being poisoned by the wily despot?"
Here he heard a voice from the same quarter as before. "Ho, there! Ho,
stranger! Do you live, or have you been murdered? What means this
stifling smell of smoke? For God's sake, answer him who can receive no
information from eyes, closed, alas, for ever!"
"I am at liberty," said the Count, "and the monster destined to devour
me has groaned its last. I would, my friend Ursel, since such is thy
name, thou hadst the advantage of thine eyes, to have borne witness to
yonder combat; it had been worth thy while, though thou shouldst have
lost them a minute afterwards, and it would have greatly advantaged
whoever shall have the task of compiling my history."
While he gave a thought to that vanity which strongly ruled him, he
lost no time in seeking some mode of escape from the dungeon, for by
that means only might he hope to recover his Countess. At last he found
an entrance in the wall, but it was strongly locked and bolted. "I have
found the passage,"--he called out; "and its direction is the same in
which thy voice is heard--But how shall I undo the door?"
"I'll teach thee that secret," said Ursel. "I would I could as easily
unlock each bolt that withholds us from the open air; but, as for thy
seclusion within the dungeon, heave up the door by main strength, and
thou shalt lift the locks to a place where, pushing then the door from
thee, the fastenings will find a grooved passage in the wall, and the
door itself will open. Would that I could indeed see thee, not only
because, being a gallant man, thou must be a goodly sight, but also
because I should thereby know that I was not caverned in darkness for
ever."
While he spoke thus, the Count made a bundle of his armour, from which
he missed nothing except his sword, Tranchefer, and then proceeded to
try what efforts he could make, according to the blind man's
instructions, to open the door of his prison-house. Pushing in a direct
line was, he soon found, attended with no effect; but when he applied
his gigantic strength, and raised the door as high as it would go, he
had the satisfaction to find that the bolts yielded, though
reluctantly. A space had been cut so as to allow them to move out of
the socket into which they had been forced; and without the turn of a
key, but by a powerful thrust forwards, a small passage was left open.
The knight entered, bearing his armour in his hand.
"I hear thee," said Ursel, "O stranger! and am aware thou art come into
my place of captivity. For three years have I been employed in cutting
these grooves, corresponding to the sockets which hold these iron
bolts, and preserving the knowledge of the secret from the
prison-keepers. Twenty such bolts, perhaps, must be sawn through, ere
my steps shall approach the upper air. What prospect is there that I
shall have strength of mind sufficient to continue the task? Yet,
credit me, noble stranger, I rejoice in having been thus far aiding to
thy deliverance; for if Heaven blesses not, in any farther degree, our
aspirations after freedom, we may still be a comfort to each other,
while tyranny permits our mutual life."
Count Robert looked around, and shuddered that a human being should
talk of any thing approaching to comfort, connected with his residence
in what seemed a living tomb. Ursel's dungeon was not above twelve feet
square, vaulted in the roof, and strongly built in the walls by stones
which the chisel had morticed closely together. A bed, a coarse
footstool, like that which Robert had just launched at the head of the
tiger, and a table of equally massive materials, were its only articles
of furniture. On a long stone, above the bed, were these few, but
terrible words:--Zedekias Ursel, imprisoned here on the Ides of March,
A.D.----. Died and interred on the spot"--A blank was left for filling
up the period. The figure of the captive could hardly be discerned amid
the wildness of his dress and dishabille. The hair of his head, uncut
and uncombed, descended in elf-locks, and mingled with a beard of
extravagant length.
"Look on me," said the captive, "and rejoice that thou canst yet see
the wretched condition to which iron-hearted tyranny can reduce a
fellow-creature, both in mortal existence and in future hope."
"Was it thou," said Count Robert, whose blood ran cold in his veins,
"that hadst the heart to spend thy time in sawing through the blocks of
stone by which these bolts are secured?"
"Alas!" said Ursel, "what could a blind man do? Busy I must be, if I
would preserve my senses. Great as the labour was, it was to me the
task of three years; nor can you wonder that I should have devoted to
it my whole time, when I had no other means of occupying it. Perhaps,
and most likely, my dungeon does not admit the distinction of day and
night; but a distant cathedral clock told me how hour after hour fled
away, and found me expending them in rubbing one stone against another.
But when the door gave way, I found I had only cut an access into a
prison more strong than that which held me. I rejoice, nevertheless,
since it has brought us together, given thee an entrance to my dungeon,
and me a companion in my misery."
"Think better than that," said Count Robert, "think of liberty--think
of revenge! I cannot believe such unjust treachery will end
successfully, else needs must I say, the heavens are less just than
priests tell us of. How art thou supplied with food in this dungeon of
thine?"
"A warder," said Ursel, "and who, I think, understands not the Greek
language--at least he never either answers or addresses me--brings a
loaf and a pitcher of water, enough to supply my miserable life till
two days are past. I must, therefore, pray that you will retire for a
space into the next prison, so that the warder may have no means of
knowing that we can hold correspondence together."
"I see not," said Count Robert, "by what access the barbarian, if he is
one, can enter my dungeon without passing through yours; but no matter,
I will retire into the inner or outer room, whichever it happens to be,
and be thou then well aware that the warder will have some one to
grapple with ere he leaves his prison-work to-day. Meanwhile, think
thyself dumb as thou art blind, and be assured that the offer of
freedom itself would not induce me to desert the cause of a companion
in adversity."
"Alas," said the old man, "I listen to thy promises as I should to
those of the morning gale, which tells me that the sun is about to
rise, although I know that I at least shall never behold it. Thou art
one of those wild and undespairing knights, whom for so many years the
west of Europe hath sent forth to attempt impossibilities, and from
thee, therefore, I can only hope for such a fabric of relief as an idle
boy would blow out of soap bubbles."
"Think better of us, old man," said Count Robert, retiring; "at least
let me die with my blood warm, and believing it possible for me to be
once more united to my beloved Brenhilda."
So saying, he retired into his own cell, and replaced the door, so that
the operations of Ursel, which indeed were only such as three years'
solitude could have achieved, should escape observation when again
visited by the Warder. "It is ill luck," said he, when once more within
his own prison--for that in which the tiger had been secured, he
instinctively concluded to be destined for him--"It is ill luck that I
had not found a young and able fellow-captive, instead of one decrepit
by imprisonment, blind, and broken down past exertion. But God's will
be done! I will not leave behind me the poor wretch whom I have found
in such a condition, though he is perfectly unable to assist me in
accomplishing my escape, and is rather more likely to retard it.
Meantime, before we put out the torch, let us see, if, by close
examination, we can discover any door in the wall save that to the
blind man's dungeon. If not, I much suspect that my descent has been
made through the roof. That cup of wine--that Muse, as they called it,
had a taste more like medicine than merry companions' pledge."
He began accordingly a strict survey of the walls, which he resolved to
conclude by extinguishing the torch, that he might take the person who
should enter his dungeon darkling and by surprise, For a similar
reason, he dragged into the darkest corner the carcass of the tiger,
and covered it with the remains of the bed-clothes, swearing at the
same time, that a half tiger should be his crest in future, if he had
the fortune, which his bold heart would not suffer him to doubt, of
getting through the present danger. "But," he added, "if these
necromantic vassals of hell shall raise the devil upon, me, what shall
I do then? And so great is the chance, that methinks I would fain
dispense with extinguishing the flambeau. Yet it is childish for one
dubbed in the chapel of Our Lady of the Broken Lances, to make much
difference between a light room and a dark one. Let them come, as many
fiends as the cell can hold, and we shall see if we receive them not as
becomes a Christian knight; and surely, Our Lady, to whom I was ever a
true votary, will hold it an acceptable sacrifice that I tore myself
from my Brenhilda, even for a single moment, in honour of her advent,
and thus led the way for our woful separation. Fiends! I defy ye in the
body as in the spirit, and I retain the remains of this flambeau until
some more convenient opportunity." He dashed it against the wall as he
spoke, and then quietly sat down in a corner, to watch what should next
happen.
Thought after thought chased each other through his mind. His
confidence in his wife's fidelity, and his trust in her uncommon
strength and activity, were the greatest comforts which he had; nor
could her danger present itself to him in any shape so terrible, but
that he found consolation in these reflections: "She is pure," he said,
"as the dew of heaven, and heaven will not abandon its own."