and that this fortress is no other than the Castle of Falaise?" and
the king impetuously extended his hand to him. "We both come of a
stormy line, Talbot. Indeed we are even more intimately associated
than you have hinted, for one of your name had the temerity to invade
Scotland itself in the interests of Edward Baliol--yes, by the Rood,
and successfully too."
"Ah, your majesty, it does not become the pride of our house to refer
to Richard Talbot, for three years later the Scots took him prisoner,
and he retired defeated from your country."
"Indeed," replied the king gaily, "if my memory serves me truly, we
valued your valiant ancestor so highly that we made the King of
England pay two thousand marks for him. We Scots are a frugal people;
we weigh many of the blessings of life against good hard coin, and by
Saint Andrew of Scotland, Talbot, I hold myself to-day no better than
the rest, for, speaking as young man to young man, I think it unworthy
of either king or peasant to take a woman to his bosom for aught save
love of her."
"In that I cordially agree with your majesty," said Talbot, with a
fervour that made the king glance at him with even more of sympathy
than he had already exhibited. A wave of emotion seemed to overwhelm
the sensitive James, and submerge for the moment all discretion; he
appeared to forget that he spoke to a stranger and one foreign to him,
yet James rarely mistook his man, and in this case his intuition was
not at fault. To lay bare the secrets of his heart to one unknown to
him shortly before, was an experiment of risk; but, as he had said, he
spoke as young man to young man, and healthy youth is rarely cynical,
no matter to what country it belongs. The heart knows nothing of
nationality, and a true man is a true man wherever he hails from.
James sprang to his feet and paced the long room in an excess of
excitement, a cloud on his brow; hands clenching and unclenching as he
walked. Equally with the lowest in his realm he felt the need of a
compassionate confidant. At last the words poured forth from him in an
ecstasy of confession.
"Talbot," he cried, "I am on a journey that shames my very manhood. I
have lived my life as others of my age, and whatever of contrition I
may feel, that rests between my Maker and myself. I am as He formed
me, and if I was made imperfect I may be to blame that I strove so
little to overcome my deficiency, but, by God, I say it here, I never
bought another nor sold myself. Now, on the contrary, I go to the loud
marketplace; now I approach a woman I have never seen, and who has
never seen me, to pledge our lives together, the consideration for
this union set down on parchment, and a stipulated sum paid over in
lands and gold."
The king stopped suddenly in his perambulation, raised his hands and
said impressively,--
"I tell you, friend and host, I am no better than my fellows and
worse than many of them, but when the priest mutters the words that
bind, I say the man should have no thought in his mind, but of the
woman who stands beside him; and she no thought in hers but of the man
in whose hand she places her own."
"Then why go on with this quest?" cried young Talbot with an
impetuosity equal to that of his guest.
"Why go on; how can I stop? The fate of kingdoms depends on my action.
My honour is at stake. My pledged word is given. How can I withdraw?"
"Your majesty need not withdraw. My master, Francis, is the very
prince of lovers, and every word you have uttered will awake an echo
in his own heart, although he is our senior by twenty years. If I may
venture to offer humbly such advice as occurs to me, you should tell
him that you have come to France not to be chosen for, but to choose.
France is the flower garden of the human race; here bloom the fairest
lilies of womanhood, fit to grace the proudest throne in Christendom.
Choice is the prerogative of kings."
"Indeed, Talbot, it is not," said the king dolefully.
"It should be so, and can be so, where a monarch boldly demands the
right exercised unquestioned by the meanest hind. Whom shall you
offend by stoutly claiming your right? Not France, for you will wed
one of her daughters; not the king, for he is anxious to bestow upon
you the lady you may prefer. Whom then? Merely the Duke of Vendome,
whose vaulting ambition it is to place a crown upon the head of his
daughter, though its weight may crush her."
The king looked fixedly at the perturbed young man, and a faint smile
chased away the sternness of his countenance.
"I have never known an instance," he said slowly, "where the burden of
a crown was urged as an objection even by the most romantic of women."
"It would be so urged by Mary of Vendome, were she allowed to give
utterance to her wishes."
"You know her then?"
"I am proud to claim her as a friend, and to assert she is the very
pearl of France."
"Ha, you interest me. You hint, then, that I come a bootless wooer?
That is turning the tables indeed, and now you rouse an emulation
which heretofore was absent in me. You think I cannot win and wear
this jewel of the realm?"
"That you may wear it there is no doubt; that you may win it is
another matter. Mary will place her listless hand in yours, knowing
thus she pleases the king and her father, but it is rumoured her
affections are fixed upon another."
"Sir, you stir me up to competition. Now we enter the lists. You bring
the keen incentive of rivalry into play."
"Such, your majesty, was far from my intention. I spoke as a friend of
the lady. She has no more choice in this bargain than you deplored the
lack of a moment since."
The former gloom again overspread the king's face.
"There is the devil of it," he cried impatiently. "If I could meet her
on even terms, plain man and woman, then if I loved her I would win
her, were all the nobles of France in the scales against me. But I
come to her chained; a jingling captive, and she approaches me alike
in thrall. It is a cursed fate, and I chafe at the clanking links,
though they hold me nevertheless. And all my life I can never be sure
of her; the chiming metal ever between us. I come in pomp and display,
as public as the street I walk on, and the union is as brazen as a
slave market, despite cathedral bells and archbishop's blessing. Ah,
well, there is nothing gained by ranting. Do you ride to Loches with
me?"
"I follow your majesty a day behind, but hope to overtake you before
you are well past Tours."
"I am glad of it. Good-night. I see you stand my friend, and before
this comes to a climax we may have need to consult together.
Good-night; good-night!"
Next morning early the itinerants were on horseback again, facing
southward. The day was wild and stormy, and so was the next that
followed it; but after leaving Tours they seemed to have entered an
enchanted land, for the clouds were dispersed and the warm sun came
forth, endowing the travellers with a genial climate like late
springtime in Scotland. As they approached Loches even the king was
amazed by the striking sight of the castle, a place formidable in
its strength, and in extent resembling a small city.
The gay and gallant Francis received his fellow monarch with a
cordiality that left no doubt of its genuine character. The French
king had the geniality to meet James in the courtyard itself; he
embraced him at the very gates as soon as James had dismounted from
his horse. Notwithstanding his twenty years of seniority Francis
seemed as young as the Scottish king.
"By Saint Denis, James," he cried, "you are a visitor of good omen,
for you have brought fine weather with you and the breath of spring.
All this winter we have endured the climate of Hades itself, without
its warmth."
The two rulers stood together in the courtyard, entirely alone, for no
man dare frequent their immediate neighbourhood; but in a circle some
distance removed from their centre, the Scotch and the French
fraternised together, a preeminent assemblage numbering a thousand or
more; and from the balconies beautiful ladies looked down on the
inspiring scene.
The gates were still open and the drawbridge down, when a horseman
came clattering over the causeway, and, heedless of the distinguished
audience, which he scattered to right and left, amid curses on his
clumsiness, drew up his foaming horse in the very presence of royalty
itself.
Francis cried out angrily at this interruption.
"Unmannerly varlet, how dare you come dashing through this throng like
a drunken ploughman!"
The rider flung himself off the panting horse and knelt before his
enraged master.
"Sire," he said, "my news may perhaps plead for me. The army of the
Emperor Charles, in Provence, is broken and in flight. Spain has met
a crushing defeat, and no foe insults the soil of France except by
lying dead upon it."
"Now, my good fellow," cried the king with dancing eyes, "you are
forgiven if you had ridden down half of my nobility."
The joyous news spread like wildfire, and cheer upon cheer rose to
heaven like vocal flame to mark its advance.
"Brother," cried the great king to his newly arrived guest, placing
an arm lovingly over his shoulder, his voice with suspicion of
tremulousness about it, "you stalwart Scots have always brought luck
to our fair land of France. This glad news is the more welcome to me
that you are here when I receive it."
And so the two, like affectionate kinsmen, walked together into the
castle which, although James did not then know it, was to be his home
for many months.
There was a dinner of state that evening, so gay and on a scale so
grand that James had little time or opportunity for reflection on his
mission. Here indeed, as Talbot had truly said, was the flower garden
of the human race; and the Scottish king saw many a proud lady to whom
probably he would have been delighted to bend the knee. But his bride
was not among the number. The Duchesse de Vendome explained to the
king that her daughter was suffering from a slight illness, and apart
from this was anxious to greet her future husband in a conference more
private than the present occasion afforded. This was certainly
reasonable enough, and the important meeting took place the following
afternoon.
Mary of Vendome might truly be called the Pearl of France, if
whiteness of visage gave claim to that title. The king found himself
confronted by a drooping young woman whose stern mother gave her a
support which was certainly needed. Her face was of the pallor of wax;
and never once during that fateful interview did she raise the heavy
lids from her eyes. That she had once been beautiful was undoubted,
but now her face was almost gaunt in its excessive thinness. The
death-like hue of her delicate skin, the fact that she seemed scarce
to breathe, and that she never ventured to speak, gave her suitor the
impression that she more resembled one preparing for the tomb than a
young girl anticipating her bridal. She courtesied like one in a
trance; but the keen eyes of the king saw the tightening of her
mother's firm hand on her wrist while she made the obeisance which
etiquette demanded. Short as was their formal greeting, it was too
long for this anaemic creature, who would have sunk to the floor were
it not for the clutch in which the determined mother held her. Even
the king, self-contained as he usually was, found little to say beyond
empty expressions of concern regarding her recent illness, ending with
a brief remark to the effect that he hoped she would soon recover from
her indisposition. But once the ordeal was over, James was filled with
a frenzy to be alone, tortured as he was by an agony of mind which
made any encounter with his fellows intolerable. He strode through the
seemingly interminable corridors of the great castle, paying slight
heed to his direction. All doors opened before him, and sentinels
saluted as he passed. At last, not knowing where he was, or how to get
outside, he said to one of the human statues who held a pike,--
"Tell me, good fellow, the quickest way to the outer air; some spot
where I can be entirely alone?"
The guard, saluting, called a page, whispered a word to him, and the
boy led the king to a door which gave access to a secluded garden,
enclosed on every side by high battlements, yet nevertheless filled
with great trees, under which ran paths both straight and winding.
Beside one wall lay the longest walk of this little park, and up and
down this gravelled way, his hands clasped behind him, the young king
strode in more disturbance of mind than had ever before afflicted him.
"Oh, God save me; God save me!" he cried; "am I to be wedded to a
ghost? That woman is not even alive, to say whether she is willing or
no. Have I come to France to act the ghoul and rob the grave of its
due? Saints in heaven, help me! What am I to do? I cannot insult
France, yet I cannot chain my living body to that dead woman. Why is
not Talbot here? He said he would overtake me at Tours, and yet is he
not come. The Pearl of France, said he, the jewel of a toad's head,
say I. My honour staked, and to that unbreathing image of tallow! Is
this my punishment? Do the sins of our youth thus overtake us, and in
such ghastly form? Bones of my ancestors, I will not wed the grave,
though war and slaughter come of it. And yet--and yet, my faith is
plighted; blindly, unknowingly plighted. Why does not Talbot come? He
knew what my emotions would be on seeing that denizen of another
world, and so warned me."
These muttered meditations were suddenly interrupted by a clear sweet
voice from above.
"Ecossais! Scottish knight! Please rescue for me my handkerchief,
which I have, alas, let fall. Wrap a stone in it and throw it hither,
I beg of you."
The startled king looked up and beheld, peering over at him from the
battlements above, one of the most piquant and pretty, laughing faces
he had ever seen. Innocent mischief sparkled in the luscious dark
eyes, which regarded him from a seemingly inaccessible perch. A wealth
of dark tousled hair made a midnight frame for a lovely countenance in
the first flush of maidenly youth. Nothing could be more marked than
the difference between the reality which thus came unexpectedly into
view, and his sombre vision of another. There also sifted down to him
from aloft, whisperings that were evidently protests, from persons
unseen; but the minx who was the cause of them merrily bade her
counsellors be quiet. She must get her handkerchief, she said, and the
Scot was the only one to recover it. Fluttering white from one of the
lower branches was a dainty bit of filmy lace, much too fragile a
covering for the stone she had suggested. The despair which enveloped
the king was dispelled as the mist vanishes before the beaming sun.
He whipped out his thin rapier and deftly disentangled the light
burden from the detaining branch. It fluttered to his hand and was
raised gallantly to his lips, at which the girl laughed most joyfully,
as if this action were intensely humorous. Other faces peeped
momentarily over the balustrade to be as quickly withdrawn when they
saw the stranger looking up at them; but the hussy herself, whoever
she was, seemed troubled by no such timorousness, resting her arms
upon the stone balustrade, with her chin above them, her inviting eyes
gazing mockingly on the man below. The king placed the handkerchief in
the bosom of his doublet, thrust home the rapier in its scabbard,
grasped the lower branch of the tree and swung himself up on it with
the agility of an acrobat. Now the insolence of those eyes was chased
away by a look of alarm.
"No, no," she cried, "stay where you are. You are too bold, Scottish
knight."
But she had to reckon with one who was a nimble wall climber, either
up or down, whose expertness in descent had often saved him from the
consequences of too ambitious climbing. The young man answered not a
word, but made his way speedily up along the branches until he stood
at a level with the parapet. Across the chasm which divided him
from the wall he saw a broad platform, railed round with a stone
balustrade, this elevated floor forming an ample promenade that was
nevertheless secluded because of the higher castle walls on every
side, walls that were unpierced by any window. A door at the farther
end of the platform gave access to the interior of the palace. A short
distance back from the balustrade stood a group of some half-dozen
very frightened women. But the first cause of all this commotion
remained in the forefront of the assemblage, angry and defiant.
"How dare you, sir?" she cried. "Go back, I command you." Then seeing
he made no motion to obey her, but was measuring with his keen eye the
distance between the bending limb on which he held his precarious
position, and the parapet, something more of supplication came into
her voice, and she continued,--
"My good fellow, place the handkerchief on the point of your sword and
one of my women will reach for it. Be careful, I beg of you; that
bough will break under your weight if you venture further. The
outreached arm and the sword will span the space."
"Madam," said the king, "the sword's point is for my enemy. On bended
knee must I present a lady that which belongs to her."
And with this, before further expostulation was possible, the young
man made his perilous leap, clutched the parapet with his left arm,
hung suspended for one breathless moment, then flung his right leg, a
most shapely member, over the balustrade, and next instant was
kneeling at her feet, offering the gosamer token. In the instant of
crisis the young lady had given utterance to a little shriek which she
instantly suppressed, glancing nervously over her shoulder. One of her
women ran towards the door, but the girl peremptorily ordered her to
return.
"The Scot will not eat you," she cried impatiently, "even if he _is_
a savage."
"Madam, your handkerchief," explained the savage, still offering it.
"I shall not accept it," she exclaimed, her eyes blazing with
resentment at his presumption.
The king sprang to his feet and swept off his plumed hat with the air
of an Italian.
"Ten thousand thanks, madam, for your cherished gift." Saying which he
thrust the slight web back into his doublet again.
"'Tis not a gift; render it to me at once, sir," she demanded with
feminine inconsistency. She extended her hand, but the king, instead
of returning the article in dispute, grasped her fingers unawares and
raised them to his lips. She drew away her hand with an expression of
the utmost contempt, but nevertheless stood her ground, in spite of
the evident anxiety to be elsewhere of the bevy behind her.
"Sir, you are unmannerly. No one has ever ventured to treat me thus."
"Then I am delighted to be the first to introduce to you so amiable a
custom. Unmannerly? Not so. We savages learn our manners from the
charming land of France; and I have been told that in one or two
instances, this country has known not only the fingers, but the lips
to be kissed."
"I implore you, sir, to desist and take your departure the way you
came; further, I warn you that danger threatens."
"I need no such warning, my lady. The danger has already encompassed
me, and my heart shall never free itself from its presence, while
remembrance of the lightning of those eyes abides with me."
The girl laughed with a trace of nervousness, and the rich colour
mounted to her cheek.
"Sir, you are learning your lesson well in France."
"My lady, the lowest hind in my country could not do otherwise under
such tutelage."
"You should turn your gifts to the service of your master. Go, woo for
him poor Mary of Vendome, and see if you can cure her who is dying of
love for young Talbot of Falaise."
For a moment the king stood as if struck by the lightning he had just
referred to, then staggering back a step, rested his hand on the
parapet and steadied himself.
"Good God!" he muttered in low tones, "is that true?"
All coquetry disappeared from the girl as she saw the dramatic effect
her words had produced. She moved lightly forward, then held back
again, anxiety on her brow.
"Sir, what is wrong with you? Are you ill? Are you a friend of
Talbot's?"
"Yes, I am a friend of his."
"And did you not know this? I thought every one knew it. Does not the
King of Scotland know? What will he do when he learns, think you, or
will it make a difference?"
"The King of Scotland is a blind fool; a conceited coxcomb, who
thinks every woman that sees him must fall in love with him."
"Sir, you amaze me. Are you not a subject of his? You would not speak
so in his hearing."
"Indeed and that I would, without hesitation, and he knows it."
"Is he so handsome as they say? Alas, I am thought too young to engage
in court festivities, and in spite of my pleadings I was not allowed
even to see his arrival."
The king had now recovered his composure, and there was a return of
his gallant bearing.
"Madam, tell me your name, and I shall intercede that so rigid a rule
for one so fair may be relaxed."
"Ah, now your impudence reasserts itself. My name is not for you. How
can a humble Scottish knight hope to soften a rule promulgated by the
King of France himself?"
"Madam, you forget that we are guests of France, and in this courteous
country nothing is denied us. We meet with no refusals except from
proud ladies like yourself. I shall ask my captain, he shall pass my
request to the general, who will speak to the King of Scotland, and
the king, when he knows how beautiful you are, will beg the favour
from Francis himself."
The girl clasped her hands with exuberant delight.
"I wonder if it is possible," she said, leaning towards the gay
cavalier, as if he were now her dearest friend--for indeed it was
quite evident that she thought much of him in spite of his irregular
approach. She was too young to feel the rules of etiquette otherwise
than annoying bonds, and like an imprisoned wild bird, was willing to
take any course that promised liberty.
"Your name, then, madam?"
"My name is Madeleine."
"I need not ask if you are noble."
"I am at least as noble as Mary of Vendome, whom your king is to
marry, if he is cruel enough."
At this point one of the women, who had stationed herself near the
door, came running towards the group and warned them that somebody
was approaching. The attendants, who had hitherto remained passive,
probably with some womanly curiosity regarding the strange interview,
now became wild with excitement, and joined their mistress in begging
the stranger to depart.
"Not until I have whispered in your ear," he said stoutly.
"I cannot permit it; I cannot permit it. Go, go at once, I implore
you."
"Then I escort you within the hall to meet whoever comes."
"Sir, you are importunate. Well, it doesn't matter; whisper."
He bent toward her and said:--
"Madeleine, you must meet me here alone at this time to-morrow."
"Never, never," she cried resolutely.
"Very well then; here I stay until you consent."
"You are cruel," she said, tears springing in her eyes. Then
appealingly, as a knock sounded against the door, she added, "I
promise. Go at once."
The young man precipitated himself over the parapet into the tree. The
fortune which attends lovers and drunkards favoured him, and the last
bending branch lowered him as gently to the gravel of the walk as if
he were a son of the forest. He glanced upward, and saw that the
luminous face, in its diaphanous environment of dark hair was again
bent over the parapet, the lips apart and still, saying nothing, but
the eloquent eyes questioning; indeed he fancied he saw in them some
slight solicitude for his safety. He doffed his hat, kissed the tips
of his fingers and wafted the salutation toward her, while a glow of
satisfaction filled his breast as he actually saw a similar movement
on the part of her own fair fingers, which was quickly translated
into a gesture pointing to the garden door, and then she placed a
finger-tip to her lips, a silent injunction for silence. He knew when
to obey, as well as when to disobey, and vanished quickly through the
door. He retreated in no such despairing phase of mind as he had
advanced, but now paid some attention to the geography of the place
that he might return unquestioning to his tryst. Arriving at the more
public corridors of the palace, his first encounter was with the
Constable of Falaise. Talbot's dress was travel-stained, and his
youthful face wore almost the haggardness of age. He looked like a man
who had ridden hard and slept little, finding now small comfort at the
end of a toilsome journey. The king, with a cry of pleasure at the
meeting, smote his two hands down on the shoulders of the other, who
seemed unconsciously to shrink from the boisterous touch.
"Talbot," he cried, "you promised to overtake me at Tours, but you did
not."