THE BEAR OF MONT-DORE.
The sun is sinking behind the western mountain range. Night is
approaching. A man, grey of hair and beard and of about fifty-eight to
sixty years of age, but still as alert and vigorous as at the springtide
of life, clad in a Gallic blouse, a wallet over his shoulder, a fur cap
on his head, and travel-stained shoes, issues from the forest. He is on
the road that leads to the burg of Count Neroweg. The appearance of the
grey-bearded man suggests a mountebank, one of the class that travels
from city to city and village to village exhibiting trained animals. On
his back he carries a cage with a monkey and, held to a long iron chain,
he leads a large-sized bear, that, however, seems to be a peaceful
traveling companion. He follows his master with as much docility as a
dog. The mountebank stops for a moment at an elevated part of the
mountainous road from where the plain and the hill on which the burg is
built can be seen. Two slaves with shaven heads, and bending under the
weight of a heavy load which they carry suspended from an oar the ends
of which rest on their shoulders, appear in view. They are proceeding
along a path, which, a few paces ahead of him, runs into the road on
which the mountebank is walking. He hastens his steps in order to fall
in with the slaves, but these, frightened at the sight of the bear
wabbling behind his master, suddenly stop short.
"Friends, you need not fear; my bear is not wicked; he is quite tame."
He thereupon called to his bear as he pulled in the animal's chain, and
said:
"Come to me, Mont-Dore!"
The bear promptly obeyed the call, drew near and modestly sat down on
his haunches; he then raised his head submissively up to his master,
who, as he stood before the animal, half hid him from the slaves.
Feeling reassured, the latter resumed their way and, out of prudence,
walked a few paces ahead of the mountebank at what they considered a
safe distance from the bear.
"Friends, what large residence is that which I see yonder, girt by a
fosse?"
"It is the burg of our master, Count Neroweg."
"Is he at the burg to-day?"
"He is in royal company."
"In royal company?"
"Chram, the son of the King of the Franks, arrived there this morning
with his bodyguard; we come from the pond where we caught this mess of
fish for to-night's supper."
"As true as my beard is grey that is a good windfall for a poor man like
me. I shall be able to amuse the noble seigneurs exhibiting my bear and
monkey to them. Do you believe, my children, that I shall be allowed
admission to the burg?"
"Oh, we do not know. Strangers are not usually allowed to cross the
fosse of the burg, without special permission from the seigneur count.
The draw-bridge is guarded by day, and raised at night.
"Nevertheless, last winter, I know, another exhibitor of trained animals
visited the burg, and the seigneur count was greatly entertained with
their performances. He may not refuse to tender a similar entertainment
to his royal guest."
"Perhaps not. If he does, then the evening's entertainment will help to
while away the time of the seigneurs until to-morrow morning's
spectacle."
"What spectacle is that to be, my friends?"
"The four people who were sentenced to-day will be executed--Ronan the
Vagre, the hermit-laborer, a renegade monk who joined the Vagrery; a
little female slave, their accomplice; and the bishopess, an accursed
witch; they say she once was the wife of our blessed bishop Cautin."
"Oh, have they been capturing Vagres in this region, my friends? And so
they were all sentenced to-day?"
"The _mahl_ assembled at noon. The King's son and our holy bishop were
present. Ronan the Vagre and the hermit-laborer were first put to the
torture."
"Then they must have denied that they had run the Vagrery, did they?"
"No. Ronan, the accursed bandit, on the contrary, boasted that he was a
Vagre."
"Why, then, the torture?"
"That is just what the son of the King said. He thought that the torture
had no purpose with Ronan. He opposed it strongly."
"But our holy bishop," explained the other slave, "declared that a truth
extracted by torture was doubly certain, it being in the nature of a
judgment of God. Thereupon no one raised any further objection, and
matters took their course."
"At the bishop's orders," resumed the first slave, "the feet of the
Vagre and of the hermit-laborer were dipped into boiling oil--they
confessed a second time."
"And thereupon they were both carried back to the _ergastula_, because
they could not walk."
"And to-morrow they will be taken out for execution. It is said that the
manner of their death will be frightful--but it never could be frightful
enough to atone for the crimes that Ronan the Vagre--"
"And what crimes did he commit, my friends?"
"Did not the sacrilegious wretch, at the head of his band, pillage and
burn down the episcopal villa of our holy bishop?"
"How, my friends, do you mean to say that Ronan the Vagre, the impious
wretch, dared to commit such a crime? And what about the women, were
they also put to the torture?"
"The little slave is still near death's door of a wound that she
inflicted upon herself in an attempt to commit suicide. She made the
attempt in a fit of despair when she saw that the Vagres were cut to
pieces."
"As to the witch of a bishopess, they were preparing to apply the
torture to her, when our holy bishop interposed, saying: 'We must be
careful not to weaken the witch; she may succumb to the pain; it is
better that she remain as strong as possible, in order that she escape
not one of the torments of to-morrow's execution.'"
"Your bishop is wise, my friends. And where do the bandits await death?"
"In the underground prison of the burg."
"I hope that there is no chance of the accursed people escaping!"
"As to Ronan the Vagre and the hermit-laborer, even if they were free,
they could not walk a step, their feet are all blistered."
"Oh, I forgot that, my friends."
"Besides, the _ergastula_ is made of bricks and Roman cement. The walls
are as hard as rocks. Then, the cave is closed with a row of iron bars,
each as thick as my arm, and it is always guarded by armed sentries."
"Thank God, it is not possible, my friends, for the accursed criminals
to escape execution--they deserve all that they will get! I see that you
are not of the wicked slaves, unfortunately but too numerous, who
sympathize with the Vagres."
"The Vagres are demons. We would like to see them executed to the last
one. They are implacable enemies of the Franks and the holy bishops!"
"I see from your speech that you have a kind master."
"He is all the better master, his clerk told us, for making us suffer a
good deal. Sufferings here on earth insure to us paradise after death.
So we are resigned!"
"You can not escape salvation, my good friends, being animated with such
sentiments. I hope that all your companions at the burg are like you,
good Christians, resigned to their lot."
"There are impious and unbelieving people everywhere. Many of the slaves
at the burg would gladly run the Vagrery if the opportunity were to
present itself. Some of them do not even respect our holy bishops, sneer
at the priests, hate our seigneurs, the Franks, and object to being
slaves. But we always denounce them to the clerk of our count."
"You are truly good Christian companions! But are there many such wicked
slaves at the burg?"
"Oh, no! There may be fifteen or twenty of them among the hundred that
we are in the domestic service, and I suppose there may be two or three
hundred of them among the four thousand and more colonists and field
slaves whom the count owns on his domains."
"My good friends, do you know it seems to me that it will bring me good
luck to spend a few hours in a house peopled with such good slaves as
you are? I wish you would announce me to the count's steward. If the
noble seigneur is willing to amuse himself with the capers of my bear,
he will issue orders to admit me."
"We shall announce you. The steward will decide.":
And the two slaves, who, streaming with sweat, had laid down for a
moment the net in which they carried a mess of large fish, freshly taken
from the pond, and some of which were still seen wriggling, through the
meshes, again lifted up their heavy burden and resumed their way to the
burg.
As soon as the two slaves disappeared from sight, the bear raised
himself on his legs, pulled off his head, dashed it on the road, and
cried:
"Blood and massacre! They are to burn my beautiful bishopess to-morrow!
And Ronan, our brave Ronan, he also is to be executed! Shall we allow
that, Karadeucq?"
"I shall avenge my sons--or shall die beside them! O Loysik! O, Ronan!
Tortured! Tortured! And executed to-morrow!"
"As true as the remembrance of the bishopess sets my heart aflame, the
torture of to-day, the executions of to-morrow, the arrival of that
Chram with his armed men--all these events upset our plans. Instead of
being taken to Clermont for trial, Ronan and the bishopess are to be
executed at the burg to-morrow morning--instead of being healed of their
wounds and able to use their legs, Ronan and his brother are rendered
helpless. The leudes of Chram, together with those of the count and the
foot soldiers, constitute a garrison of more than three hundred armed
men; they occupy the burg--and who is there to set free Ronan and
Loysik, neither of whom can walk, the little dying slave, and my
beautiful bishopess. Only you and I! Karadeucq, if I can see how we are
to come out of this fix, I shall be willing to become a bear in
truth--not a trick bear, as now I am, but a real bear! Oh, if anyone had
said to me, when, disguised like so many others in some animal form, I
celebrated the saturnalia of January nights--if anyone had said to me:
'My gay lad, you will celebrate the calends of winter in midsummer,' I
would have answered: 'Go to, good man, it will be warm, then!' And I
would have spoken the truth. I would be cooler in an oven than in this
hide! Rage and heat make one swelter. You are silent, my old Vagre--what
are you thinking about?"
"About my children. What is to be done--what is to be done?"
"I am better in action than in council, especially at this moment, when
rage is making me crazy. Poor, brave woman! Burned to-morrow! Oh, how
came I to be separated from her at the fastness of Allange during the
combat engaged in by our archers from the branches of the oak trees
against the soldiers of the count! Poor, poor woman! I thought she was
killed! Our rout was complete, it was impossible for me to assure myself
concerning the fate of my sweetheart! Too happy to be able to escape the
massacre with a few others of our band, and to dive into the thickest of
the woods, after giving ourselves one of our haunts, the rocks on the
peak of Mont-Dore, for _rendezvous_--I fled. Finally, after the lapse of
a few days, about a dozen of our band met at the appointed place; it was
there that we met you also in the company of two runaway slaves--you,
our old Vagre, whom we had given up for lost over two years ago. It was
from you that we learned of the fate of your two sons, the little slave
and the bishopess. Strange, what sentiments I experience for that brave
woman! The memory of her never leaves me. My heart breaks with grief at
the knowledge that she is in the hands of the count and the bishop. In
all Vagrery there is no Vagre more Vagre than myself for a life of
adventures; nevertheless, were some unforeseen accident to cast the
bishopess and myself in some solitary corner of the earth, I believe I
would live there quietly with her ten, twenty, a hundred years! You
surely take me for a fool, old Karadeucq, or better yet for a ninny,
seeing that I weep and act stupidly! But, the devil take grief! The hour
calls for action!"
"O, my sons! my sons!"
"If my skin would save them and the bishopess--I do not mean this
bear-skin, but my own!--by the faith of a Vagre, I would sacrifice it!
You know that when you laid your plan before us, and that a ready fellow
was needed to impersonate a bear, I promptly offered myself. I told you
then how, at Beziers, I was an all the more inveterate disguiser at the
calends because the priests forbade them; and that at those saturnalia I
especially impersonated bears, and so well as to be taken for one. I was
thereupon unanimously chosen bear in Vagrery, and--But I suppose you
think that I am talking too much. It is my only refuge! It diverts me!
If I remain silent and think, then my heart breaks and I am useless."
"Loysik! Ronan! executed to-morrow! No--no--heaven and earth!"
"Whatever may have to be done in order to save your sons, the bishopess
and little Odille, I shall follow you to the end. When it was decided
that you were to be the mountebank and I the bear, we had to find a
good-sized bear, and kind enough to let us have his head, jacket and
hose. I took my axe and my knife, and climbed up Mont Dore. Good hunter,
good hunt. I almost immediately ran across a friend of my size. Probably
taking me for his comrade, he ran at me, ready to hug me to his heart,
with his arms--and also his jaws, wide open. Anxious not to injure his
coat with too many blows of my axe, I stabbed him adroitly in the heart,
after which I carefully undressed my accommodating friend. His jacket
and hose seemed, by the faith of a Vagre! cut on purpose for me. I
joined you at our haunt, and down we came to the plain, determined to do
anything in order to save your two sons, the little slave and my
bishopess. Let us resume, I am growing more collected--what shall we do?
Our plan was to enter the city of Clermont on the night before the
execution; we were certain that we could cause a portion of the slaves
to revolt; the people would join and the Vagres were to be ready. That
project must now be given up, also the idea of lying in ambush on the
road and attacking the escort that was to take the prisoners to
Clermont. Our purpose in entering the burg in our disguise was only to
gather information concerning the time of their departure and the
probable route that they would take, while ten of our companions were to
wait hidden in the skirts of the forest. Our ten friends are ready,
either to proceed with us to Clermont, or to join us on the road, or
even to approach the fosse of the burg to-night. Shall we give our good
Vagres the signal that we agreed upon? To-day's events, to-morrow's
executions and the large number of troops gathered in the burg, thwart
all our plans. What is to be done? You have been thinking long, old
Vagre--have you decided upon a plan?"
"Yes--come, my brave Master of the Hounds!"
"To the burg? But it is still daylight."
"It will be dark before we arrive."
"What is your plan?"
"I shall tell you on the way. Time presses. Come, come, be quick!"
"Forward, march! Oh, I forgot--the jacket!"
"What jacket?"
"The one that I must put on for buffoonery--besides it is a prudent
measure; the turned-down hood will conceal whatever defect there may be
at the jointure of the fur between my neck and my head. The hood will
also partially cover my bear face--mayhap the Franks have sharper eyes
than those two blockheads of slaves. Let us first complete the
disguise."
While the lover of the bishopess spoke, Karadeucq pulled a rolled-up
jacket out of his wallet; the false bear put it on; it reached back and
down to his hind legs, and being pulled well over his head, left only
his nozzle exposed to view, while the wide sleeves almost reached down
to his clawy paws. The black fur of the belly and thighs remained wholly
uncovered. Nothing could be imagined more grotesque than the bear in his
costume. By the faith of a Vagre! the animal could not choose but
furnish subject for laughter to the guests of Neroweg, especially after
the copious libations of their supper.
"Now, Karadeucq, I shall conceal my poniard in one of the folds of the
jacket--by the way, it is the very Saxon knife that I picked up as I
fled from the defile of Allange. I picked it up on the field of battle.
You can see on the hilt of the arm the two Gallic words--'_Friendship_,'
'_Community_'--graven in the iron. 'Friendship'--that is a good omen.
Friendship, as well as Love, leads me to the burg. Blood and massacre!
I shall free at one blow both my friend and my sweetheart!"
"Come, come! O, Ronan! O, Loysik! I shall save you both--or we shall die
together! Come, forward, my brave companion."