"For, messire, I grant you that in ordinary disputation the cutting of
one gentleman's throat by another gentleman is well enough, since the
argument is unanswerable. Yet in this case we have each of us too much
to live for; you to govern your reconquered England, and I--you
perceive that I am candid--to achieve in turn the kingship of another
realm. And to secure this, possession of the Lady Ellinor is to me
essential; to you she is nothing."
"She is a woman whom I have deeply wronged," Prince Edward said, "and
to whom, God willing, I mean to make atonement. Ten years ago they
wedded us, willy-nilly, to avert the impending war 'twixt Spain and
England; to-day El Sabio intends to purchase all Germany, with her body
as the price, you to get Sicily as her husband. Mort de Dieu! is a
woman thus to be bought and sold like hog's-flesh! We have other and
cleaner customs, we of England."
"Eh, and who purchased the woman first?" de Gâtinais spat at him, and
viciously, for the Frenchman now saw his air-castle shaken to the
corner-stone.
"They wedded me to the child in order a great war might be averted. I
acquiesced, since it appeared preferable that two people suffer
inconvenience rather than many thousands be slain. And still this is
my view of the matter. Yet afterward I failed her. Love had no clause
in our agreement; but I owed her more protection than I have afforded.
England has long been no place for women. I thought she would
comprehend that much. But I know very little of women. Battle and
death are more wholesome companions, I now perceive, than such folk as
you and Alphonso. Woman is the weaker vessel--the negligence was
mine--I may not blame her." The big and simple man was in an agony of
repentance.
On a sudden he strode forward, his sword now shifted to his left hand
and his right hand outstretched. "One and all, we are but weaklings in
the net of circumstance. Shall one herring, then, blame his fellow if
his fellow jostle him? We walk as in a mist of error, and Belial is
fertile in allurements; yet always it is granted us to behold that sin
is sin. I have perhaps sinned through anger, Messire de Gâtinais, more
deeply than you have planned to sin through luxury and through
ambition. Let us then cry quits, Messire de Gâtinais, and afterward
part in peace, and in common repentance, if you so elect."
"And yield you Ellinor?" de Gâtinais said. "Nay, messire, I reply to
you with Arnaud de Marveil, that marvellous singer of eld, 'They may
bear her from my presence, but they can never untie the knot which
unites my heart to her; for that heart, so tender and so constant, God
alone divides with my lady, and the portion which God possesses He
holds but as a part of her domain, and as her vassal.'"
"This is blasphemy," Prince Edward now retorted, "and for such
observations alone you merit death. Will you always talk and talk and
talk? I perceive that the devil is far more subtle than you, messire,
and leads you like a pig with a ring in his nose toward gross iniquity.
Messire, I tell you that for your soul's health I doubly mean to kill
you now. So let us make an end of this."
De Gâtinais turned and took up his sword. "Since you will have it," he
rather regretfully said; "yet I reiterate that you play an absurd part.
Your wife has deserted you, has fled in abhorrence of you. For three
weeks she has been tramping God knows whither or in what company--"
He was here interrupted. "What the Lady Ellinor has done," Prince
Edward crisply said, "was at my request. We were wedded at Burgos; it
was most natural that we should desire our reunion to take place at
Burgos; and she came to Burgos with an escort which I provided."
De Gâtinais sneered. "So that is the tale you will deliver to the
world?"
"When I have slain you," the Prince said, "yes. Yes, since she is a
woman, and woman is the weaker vessel."
"The reservation is wise. For once I am dead, Messire Edward, there
will be none to know that you risk all for a drained goblet, for an
orange already squeezed--quite dry, messire."
"Face of God!" the Prince said.
But de Gâtinais flung back both arms in a great gesture, so that he
knocked a flask of claret from the table at his rear. "I am candid, my
Prince. I would not see any brave gentleman slain in a cause so
foolish. And in consequence I kiss and tell. In effect, I was
eloquent, I was magnificent--so that in the end her reserve was
shattered like the wooden flask yonder at our feet. Is it worth while,
think you, that our blood flow like this flagon's contents?"
"Liar!" Prince Edward said, very softly. "O hideous liar! Already
your eyes shift!" He drew near and struck the Frenchman. "Talk and
talk and talk! and lying talk! I am ashamed while I share the world
with a thing so base as you."
De Gâtinais hurled upon him, cursing, sobbing in an abandoned fury. In
an instant the place resounded like a smithy, for there were no better
swordsmen living than these two. The eavesdropper could see nothing
clearly. Round and round they veered in a whirl of turmoil. Presently
Prince Edward trod upon the broken flask, smashing it. His foot
slipped in the spilth of wine, and the huge body went down like an oak,
the head of it striking one leg of the table.
[Illustration: "IN AN INSTANT THE PLACE RESOUNDED LIKE A SMITHY"
_Painting by William Hurd Lawrence_]
"A candle!" de Gâtinais cried, and he panted now--"a hundred candles to
the Virgin of Beaujolais!" He shortened his sword to stab the Prince
of England.
And now the eavesdropper understood. She flung open the door and fell
upon Prince Edward, embracing him. The sword dug deep into her
shoulder, so that she shrieked once with the cold pain of this wound.
Then she rose, all ashen.
"Liar!" she said. "Oh, I am shamed while I share the world with a
thing so base as you!"
In silence de Gâtinais regarded her. There was a long interval before
he said, "Ellinor!" and then again, "Ellinor!" like a man bewildered.
"_I was eloquent, I was magnificent,_" she said, "_so that in the end
her reserve was shattered!_ Certainly, messire, it is not your death
which I desire, since a man dies so very, very quickly. I desire for
you--I know not what I desire for you!" the girl wailed.
"You desire that I should endure this present moment," de Gâtinais
said; "for as God reigns, I love you, and now am I shamed past death."