ON THE LADDER OF LIFE.
FOUR days passed over, and Walter Espec, quite recovered from the
effects of his struggle with the waves, and of the salt water he had
involuntarily imbibed during his perilous adventure on the coast of
Cyprus, was at Nicosia, and engaged in chivalrous exercises, in the
courtyard of the house occupied by the Earl of March; when he was
accosted by Bisset, the English knight, who had been a witness of his
daring exploit, and requested to repair to the presence of the King of
France.
Walter was somewhat taken by surprise and startled by the summons.
Recovering his serenity, however, as well as he could, he intimated his
readiness; and with the air befitting a Norman gentleman who had existed
from childhood in the consciousness that his name was known to fame, and
who did not forget that he had noble blood of Icinglas in his veins, he
accompanied the knight to the palace in which the saint-king was lodged.
At that time, Louis, not much satisfied with himself for having
consented to winter in Cyprus, though little dreaming of the terrible
misfortunes that awaited his army in the land for which he was bound,
was seated at table and endeavouring to forget his cares, while
conversing familiarly with a young and noble-looking personage of great
strength and stature, with a head of immense size, and a countenance
beaming with sagacity. In truth this was a very remarkable personage. He
was then known as John, Lord of Joinville, and seneschal of Champagne;
and he has since been famous as the chronicler of the triumphs and
disasters of the Crusade in which he acted a conspicuous part.
'Seneschal,' said Louis, addressing Joinville, 'I marvel much that you
do not mix water with your wine.'
'In truth, sire,' replied Joinville, half jocularly, 'I fear so to do;
for physicians have told me I have so large a head, and so cold a
stomach, that water might prove most injurious.'
'Nevertheless,' said Louis, earnestly, 'be advised by me, and do not
allow yourself to be deceived. If you do not drink water till you are in
the decline of life, you will then increase any disorders you may have.'
'But, sire,' asked Joinville, innocently, 'why should I drink water then
more than now?'
'Ah,' answered Louis, 'simply because if you take pure wine in your old
age, you will be frequently intoxicated; and verily it is a beastly
thing for an honourable man to make himself drunk.'
'I acknowledge that it is very wrong, sire,' said Joinville; 'but I am
one of those who endeavour to practise moderation in the use of the
wine-cup.'
'And pray, seneschal,' asked Louis, after a pause, 'may I ask if you
ever wash the feet of the poor?'
'Oh, sire, no,' answered Joinville, not without evincing surprise. 'I
hardly deem that it would become such a person as I am.'
'In truth, seneschal,' exclaimed Louis, 'this is very ill said. You
ought not to think that unbecoming which He, who was their Lord and
Master, did for our example when He washed the feet of His apostles. I
doubt not you would very unwillingly perform what the King of England
does; for on Holy Thursday he washes the feet of lepers.'
'Oh, sire,' cried Joinville, in a conclusive tone, 'never will I wash
the feet of such fellows.'
'Now, seneschal,' resumed Louis, still more seriously, 'let me ask you
another question. Whether would you be a leper, or have committed a
deadly sin?'
'Sire,' answered Joinville, frankly, 'rather than be a leper, I would
have committed thirty deadly sins.'
'How could you make such an answer?' said Louis, reproachfully.
'Sire,' exclaimed Joinville, with decision, 'if I were to answer again,
I should repeat the same thing.'
'Nevertheless,' urged Louis, with earnestness, 'you deceive yourself on
the subject; for no leprosy can be so awful as deadly sin, and the soul
that is guilty of such is like the devil in hell.'
It was when the conversation between the King of France and the Lord of
Joinville had reached this stage, that Walter Espec, guided by the
English knight, made his appearance, not without exhibiting symptoms of
agitation when he found himself face to face with the monarch, who, of
all the princes of Christendom, enjoyed, at that period, the highest
reputation in Europe and the East.
But the appearance and aspect of Louis were not such as to daunt or
dismay.
Nothing could have been more plain and simple than the dress worn by the
royal chief of the crusaders. Indeed it was plain and simple to
affectation; and the coat of camlet, the surcoat of tyretaine, the
mantle of black sandal, contrasted remarkably with the splendid garments
of princes who were his contemporaries, especially Henry, King of
England, who, like most of the Plantagenets, was given to magnificence
of attire, and generally regarded as by far the greatest dandy in his
dominions. Nor had Louis been endowed by nature with the qualities which
please the eye and impress the imagination. His figure, it is true, was
tall and well proportioned; but his face and features were not
calculated to dazzle. When compared with men of such noble presence and
regal air as our English Edwards and Henrys, he was decidedly plain. He
had the peculiar face and slanting features which distinguished so many
of the descendants of Hugh Capet, and that large long straight nose,
which, instead of keeping the Greek facial line, inclined forward, and
hung slightly over the short upper lip. Not even flattery could have
described the saint-king as a model of manly beauty.
[Illustration: "Young gentleman," said King Louis, "it has come to my
knowledge that you have performed an action noble in itself, and worthy
of the praises of the valiant."--p. 64.]
Now it happened that Walter Espec had never before seen a king, and was
prepared to behold something very grand, like Coeur de Lion, with his
scarlet bonnet, his rose-coloured tunic, and his mantle of striped
silver tissue, and his Damascus blade with a golden hilt in a silver
sheath. Naturally, therefore, he was at the first glance somewhat
disappointed with the appearance of the monarch in whose presence he
stood. But as Louis turned upon him a countenance which, albeit not
beautiful, denoted energy and decision of character, and expressed at
once goodness and good-nature, and high moral and intellectual
superiority, the youth, whose instincts were strong, felt that he was in
the presence of a man who was worthy of reigning.
'Young gentleman,' said Louis, mildly, as Walter bent his knee, 'it has
come to my knowledge that you have performed an action noble in itself,
and worthy of the praises of the valiant.'
'Sire,' replied Walter, colouring, and speaking with less than his
wonted confidence, 'I scarce know to what your highness is pleased to
refer.'
'Ah,' said Louis, glancing towards the Lord of Joinville, 'I can hardly
credit your words. But such modesty is becoming in youth. However, I
mean that, four days since, as I learn, you saved a noble demoiselle
from the sea, at the most manifest peril to your own life.'
Walter bowed in acknowledgement of the compliment, but did not speak.
'Not,' continued Louis hastily, 'not that you should therefore be
vainglorious, or puffed up with vanity, or think more highly of
yourself than you ought to think on account of your achievement, however
honourable; for I trust you know and feel that, before our Maker, we are
all but as potter's clay.'
'My lord,' replied Walter, pausing in some perplexity, 'I would fain
hope my ideas on the subject will ever be such as befit a Christian and
a gentleman.'
'Well, well,' said Louis, hastily, 'on that point I meant not to express
a doubt, and,' added he, 'seeing that you give promise of being a
preuhomme, I pray God, out of His goodness, that you may prove a
preudhomme as well as a preuhomme.'
'Sire,' said Walter, looking puzzled, 'you must pardon me when I confess
that I comprehend not clearly the distinction.'
'Ah,' replied Louis, smiling, and shaking his head gravely, 'the
distinction is of much consequence; for know that by preuhomme I mean a
man who is valiant and bold in person, whereas by preudhomme I signify
one who is prudent, discreet, and who fears God, and has a good
conscience.'
Walter bowed again; and, being at a loss for words to answer, took
refuge in silence. In fact, he began to feel so awkward that he wished
nothing so fervently as that the interview would come to an end; and
Louis, after condescending to ask some more questions, and inculcate
some more lessons, dismissed him with words of encouragement, and gifted
him with an amulet in the form of a ring, which bore on it this
inscription--
Who wears me shall perform exploits,
And with great joy return.
As Walter left the king's presence to depart from the palace, he turned
to the knight who had been his conductor.
'On my faith, sir knight,' said he laughing, but rather nervously, 'this
reminds me more of the adventures which in childhood I have heard
related by pilgrims and pedlars at the chimney-corner, than aught I ever
expected to meet with in the real breathing busy world.'
'Indeed,' said Bisset, quietly; 'methinks there is nothing so very
wondrous about the business. It only seems to me that you have been born
with luck on your side--not my own case--and that you have, without
hazarding more than you are likely to do in the first battle with the
Saracens, gained the privilege of climbing some steps up the ladder that
leads to fortune and fame.'
'And yet,' observed Walter, as he laughed and looked at the ring which
Louis had bestowed on him, 'beshrew me if I have had the courage to ask
either the rank or name of the demoiselle to whom I had the fortune to
render the service that has made my existence known to this good and
pious king.'
'By the might of Mary,' exclaimed the knight, 'there is no reason why
you should remain in ignorance who the demoiselle is, or what is her
name. She is kinswoman of John de Brienne, who, in his day, figured as
King of Jerusalem, and kinswoman also of Baldwin de Courtenay, who now
reigns at Constantinople as Emperor of the East; and her name is Adeline
de Brienne.'
'Holy Katherine,' muttered Walter, again looking closely at the
inscription on the ring, as if for evidence that the whole was not a
dream, 'I begin to think that I must assuredly have been born with luck
on my side, as you say; and, with such luck on my side, I need not even
despair of finding the brother I have lost.'
'Credit me, at all events,' said Bisset, looking wise, 'when I tell you
that you have got upon the ladder of life.'