A WOUNDED PILGRIM.
IT was long ere Walter Espec, struck down wounded and bleeding at
Mansourah, recovered possession of his faculties sufficiently to recall
the scenes through which he had passed or even to understand what was
taking place around him. As time passed over, however, consciousness
returned; and he one day became aware that he was stretched on a bed in
a chamber somewhat luxuriously furnished, and tended by a woman advanced
in years, who wore a gown of russet, and a wimple which gave her a
conventual appearance.
Walter raised his head, and was about to speak, when she suddenly left
the room, and the squire was left to guess, as he best might, where and
under whose care he was. He attempted to rise; but the effort was in
vain. He put his hand to his head; but he found that his long locks of
fair hair were gone. He tried to remember how he had got there; but, try
as he might, his memory would not bring him farther down the stream of
time, than the hour in which he fell at Mansourah. All the rest was a
blank or a feverish dream of being rowed on a river by Saracen boatmen,
and left at the portal of a house which he had never seen before.
Gradually recalling all his adventures since he left the castle of Wark,
he remembered and felt his hand for the amulet with which he had been
gifted by King Louis when at Cyprus. The ring was there, and as Walter
thought of the inscription he felt something like hope.
But Walter was still weak from loss of blood and the fever which had
been the consequence of wounds and exposure, and he soon sank into a
slumber. When he again awoke to consciousness the woman in russet was
standing near him, and conversing with a damsel whom Walter did not at
first see, but whose tones, sweet and soft, manifested a strong interest
in his recovery.
'He will yet live,' said the woman in russet, 'and rejoice we in it; for
he is a young man; and to such life must needs be dear.'
'He will live,' repeated the girl, 'and our lady be praised therefor;
for it is sweet to live.'
'In truth, noble demoiselle,' said the woman in russet, 'the youth owes
much to your solicitude; but for your anxiety on his behalf, I hardly
think he would have struggled through the fever. However, if you will
remain and watch him for a brief space, I will attend to the commands of
my lady the queen, and hasten to relieve you. Nay, it misbeseems not
noble maiden to tend a wounded warrior, especially a soldier of the
Cross; and, credit me, he will give you little trouble. He lies as quiet
and calm as if he were in his shroud.'
With these words the woman in russet departed; and the damsel, treading
so softly that her footstep made not the slightest noise, moved about
the room in silent thought, now turning to gaze on the wounded squire,
now looking from the casement. Walter, now fully awake, began to
experience a strong feeling of curiosity; and turning his head directed
his gaze, not without interest, towards his youthful nurse. She was not
more than sixteen, and still more beautiful than young. She had features
exquisitely lovely in their delicacy and expression, deep blue eyes with
long dark fringes, and dark brown hair which, according to the fashion
of the period, was turned up behind and enclosed in a caul of network.
Her form was already elegant in its proportions; but it inclined to be
taller, and gave promise of great perfection. Her charms were set off by
the mourning dress which she wore, and by the robe called the quintise,
which was an upper tunic without sleeves, with bordered vandyking and
scalloping worked and notched in various patterns, worn so long behind
that it swept the floor, but in front held up gracefully with one hand
so as not to impede the step.
Walter was charmed, and a little astonished as his eye alighted on a
face and form so fascinating; and, in spite of his prostration and utter
weakness, he gazed on her with lively interest and some wonder.
'Holy Katherine!' exclaimed he to himself; 'what a lovely vision. I
marvel who she is, and where I am; and, as he thus soliloquised, the
girl turned round, and not without flutter and alarm perceived that he
was awake and watching her.
'Noble demoiselle, heed me not;' said Walter earnestly, 'but rather
tell me, since, if I understand aright, I owe my life to you--how am I
ever sufficiently to prove my gratitude?'
'Ah, sir squire,' replied she, 'you err in supposing the debt to be on
your side. It is I who owe you a life, and not you who owe a life to me;
and,' added she, struggling to repress tears, 'my heart fills when I
remember how you did for me, albeit a stranger, what, under the
circumstances, no other being on earth would have ventured to do.'
'By Holy Katherine, noble demoiselle,' said Walter, wondering at her
words; 'I should in truth deem it a high honour to have rendered such as
you any service. But that is a merit which I cannot claim; for, until
this hour, unless my memory deceives me, I never saw your face.'
The countenance of the girl evinced disappointment, and the tears
started to her eyes.
'Ah, sir, sir,' said she, with agitation; 'I am she whom, on the coast
of Cyprus, you saved from the waves of the sea.'
Walter's heart beat rather quick as he learned that it was Adeline de
Brienne who stood before him; for, though her very face was unknown to
him, her name had strangely mixed up with many of his day-dreams; and it
was not without confusion that, after a pause, he continued the
conversation.
'Pardon my ignorance, noble demoiselle,' said he, 'and vouchsafe, I pray
you, to inform me where I now am; for I own to you that I am somewhat
perplexed.'
'You are in Damietta.'
'In Damietta!' exclaimed Walter, astonished; 'and how came I to
Damietta? My latest recollection is having been struck from my steed at
Mansourah, after my lord, the Earl of Salisbury, and all the English
warriors, had fallen before the weapons of the Saracens; and how I come
to be in Damietta is more than I can guess.'
'Mayhap; but I can tell you,' said a frank hearty voice; and, as Walter
started at the sound, Bisset, the English knight, stood before him; and
Adeline de Brienne, not without casting a kindly look behind, vanished
from the chamber.
'Wonder upon wonders,' cried Walter, as the knight took his hand; 'I am
now more bewildered than before. Am I in Damietta, and do I see you, and
in the body?'
'Even so,' replied Bisset; 'and for both circumstances we are wholly
indebted to Beltran, the Christian renegade. He saved you from perishing
at Mansourah, and conveyed you down the Nile, and brought you to the
portal of this palace; and he came to me when I was at Minieh under a
tree, sinking with fatigue, and in danger of bleeding to death; and he
found the means of conveying me hither also; so I say that, were he ten
times a renegade, he merits our gratitude.'
'Certes,' said Walter, 'and, methinks, also our prayers that his heart
may be turned from the error of his ways, and that he may return to the
faith which Christians hold.'
'Amen,' replied Bisset.
'But tell me, sir knight,' continued Walter, eagerly, what has
happened, since that dreadful day, to the pilgrim army? and if you know
aught of my brother-in-arms, Guy Muschamp?'
'Sir squire,' answered Bisset, sadly; 'for your first question, I grieve
to say, that has come to pass which I too shrewdly predicted--all the
boasting of the French has ended in disaster--the king and his nobles
being prisoners, and most of the other pilgrims slain or drowned; and,
for your second, as to Guy Muschamp, the English squire, who was a brave
and gallant youth, I own I entertain hardly a doubt that, ere this, he
is food for worms or fishes.'
Walter Espec uttered an exclamation of horror, and, without another
word, sank back on his pillow.