Gaston sat motionless in his saddle, gazing at the apparition as though
fascinated. He had seen this woodland nymph before. He had spoken with
her, had sat awhile beside her, and her presence had inspired feelings
within him to which he had hitherto been a complete stranger. As he
gazed now into that lovely face, anxious, glad, fearful, all in one, and
yet beaming with joy at the encounter, he felt as if indeed the denizens
of another sphere had interposed to save his brother, and from that
moment he felt a full assurance that Raymond would be rescued.
Recovering himself as by an effort, he sprang from his saddle and stood
beside the girl.
"Lady," he said, in gentle accents, that trembled slightly through the
intensity of his emotion -- "fairest lady, who thou art I know not, but
this I know, that thou comest ever as a messenger of mercy. Once it was
to warn me of peril to come; now it is to tell us of one who lies in
sore peril. Lady, tell me that I am not wrong in this -- that thou
comest to give me news of my brother!"
Her liquid eyes were full of light. She did not shrink from him, or play
with his feelings as on a former occasion. Her face expressed a serious
gravity and earnestness of purpose which added tenfold to her charms.
Gaston, deeply as his feelings were stirred with anxious care for his
brother's fate, could not help his heart going out to this exquisite
young thing standing before him with trustful upturned face.
Who she was he knew not and cared not. She was the one woman in the
world for him. He had thought so when he had found her in the forest in
wayward tricksy mood; he knew it without doubt now that he saw her at
his side, her sweet face full of deep and womanly feeling, her arch
shyness all forgotten in the depth and resolution of her resolve.
"I do!" she answered, in quick, short sentences that sounded like the
tones of a silver bell. "You are Gaston de Brocas, and he, the prisoner,
is your twin brother Raymond. I know all. I have heard them talk in
their cups, when they forget that I am growing from a child to a woman.
I have long ceased to be a child. I think that I have grown old in that
terrible place. I have heard words -- oh, that make my blood run cold!
that make me wish I had never been born into a world where such things
are possible! In my heart I have registered a vow. I have vowed that if
ever the time should come when I might save one wretched victim from my
savage uncle's power -- even at the risk of mine own life -- I would do
it. I have warned men away from here. I have done a little, times and
again, to save them from a snare laid for them. But never once have I
had power to rescue from his relentless clutch the victim he had once
enclosed in his net, for never have I had help from without. But when I
heard them speak of Raymond de Brocas -- when I knew that it was he, thy
brother, of whom some such things were spoken -- then I felt that I
should indeed go mad could I not save him from such fate."
"What fate?" asked Gaston breathlessly; but she went on as though she
had not heard.
"I thought of thee as I had seen thee in the wood. I said in my heart,
'He is noble, he is brave. He will rest not night nor day whilst his
brother lies a captive in these cruel hands. I have but to watch and to
wait. He will surely come. And when he comes, I will show him the black
hole in the wall -- the dark passage to the moat -- and he will dare to
enter where never man has entered before. He will save his brother, and
my vow will be fulfilled!'"
Gaston drew his breath hard, and a light leaped into his eyes.
"Thou knowest a secret way by which the Tower of Saut may be entered --
is that so, Lady?"
"I know a way by which many a wretched victim has left it," answered the
girl, whose dark violet eyes were dilated by the depth of her emotion.
"I know not if any man ever entered by that way. But my heart told me
that there was one who would not shrink from the task, be the peril
never so great. I will see that the men-at-arms have drink enough to
turn their heads. I have a concoction of herbs which if mingled with
strong drink will cause such sleep to fall upon men that a thunderbolt
falling at their feet would scarce awaken them. I will see that thou
hast the chance thou needest. The rest wilt thou do without a thought of
fear."
"Fear to go where Raymond is -- to share his fate if I may not rescue
him!" cried Gaston. "Nay, sweet lady, that would be indeed a craven
fear, unworthy of any true knight. But tell me more. I have many times
wandered round the Tower of Saut in my boyhood, when its lord and master
was away. Methinks I know every loophole and gate by heart. But the
gates are so closely guarded, and the windows are so narrow and high up
in the walls, that I know not how they may be entered from without."
"True: yet there is one way of which doubtless thou knowest naught, for,
as I have said, men go forth that way, but enter not by it; and the
trick is known only to a few chosen souls, for the victims who pass out
seek not to come again. They drop with sullen plash into the black
waters of the moat, and the river, which mingles its clearer water with
the sluggish stream encircling the Tower, bears thence towards the
hungry sea the burden thus entrusted to its care."
Gaston shivered slightly.
"Thou speakest of the victims done to death within yon gloomy walls. I
have heard dark tales of such ere now."
"Thou hast heard nothing darker than the truth," said the girl, her
slight frame quivering with repressed emotion and a deep and terrible
sense of helpless indignation and pity. "I have heard stories that have
made my blood run cold in my veins. Men have been done to death in a
fashion I dare not speak of. There is a terrible room scarce raised
above the level of the moat, into which I was once taken, and the memory
of which has haunted me ever since. It is within the great mound upon
which the Tower is built; and above it is the dungeon in which the
victim is confined. There is some strange and wondrous device by which
he may be carried down and raised again to his own prison house when his
captor has worked his hideous will upon him. And if he dies, as many do,
upon the fearful engines men have made to inflict torture upon each
other, then there is this narrow stairway, and this still narrower
passage down to the sullen waters of the moat.
"The opening is just at the level of the water. It looks so small from
the opposite side, that one would think it but the size to admit the
passage of a dog; you would think it was caused by the loosening of some
stone in the wall -- no more. But yet it is large enough to admit the
passage of a human body; and where a body has passed out, sure a body
may pass in. There is no lock upon the door from the underground passage
to the moat; for what man would be so bold as find his way into the
Castle by the grim dungeons which hold such terrible secrets? If thou
hast the courage to enter thus, none will bar thy passage --"
"If!" echoed Gaston, whose hand was clenched and his whole face
quivering with emotion as he realized the fearful peril which menaced
his brother. "There is no such thing as a doubt. Raymond is there. I
come to save him."
The girl's eyes flashed with answering fire. She clasped her hands
together, and cried, with something like a sob in her voice:
"I knew it! I knew it! I knew that thou wert a true knight that thou
wouldst brave all to save him."
"I am his brother," said Gaston simply, "his twin brother. Who should
save him but I? Tell me, have I come in time? Have they dared to lay a
finger upon him yet?"
"Dared!" repeated the girl, with a curious inflection in her voice. "Of
what should they be afraid here in this tower, which has ever withstood
the attacks of foes, which no man may enter without first storming the
walls and forcing the gates? Thinkest thou that they fear God or man?
Nay, they know not what such fear is; and therein lies our best hope."
"How so?" asked Gaston quickly.
"Marry, for two reasons: one being that they keep but small guard over
the place, knowing its strength and remoteness; the other, that being
thus secure, they are in no haste to carry out their devil's work. They
will first let their prisoner recover of his hurts, that he slip not too
soon from their power, as weaklier victims ofttimes do."
"Then they have done naught to him as yet?" asked Gaston, in feverish
haste. "What hurts speakest thou of? Was he wounded in the fight, or
when they surrounded him and carried him off captive?"
"Not wounded, as I have heard, but sorely battered and bruised; and he
was brought hither unconscious, and lay long as one dead. When he
refused to do the bidding of Peter Sanghurst, they took him down to yon
fearsome chamber; but, as I heard when I sat at the hoard with mine
uncle and that wicked man, they had scarce laid hands upon him, to bend
his spirit to their will through their hellish devices, before he fell
into a deep swoon from which they could not rouse him; and afraid that
he would escape their malice by a merciful death, and that they would
lose the very vengeance they had taken such pains to win, they took him
back to his cell; and there he lies, tended not unskilfully by my old
nurse, who is ever brought to the side of the sick in this place. Once I
made shift to slip in behind her when the warder was off his guard, and
to whisper in his ear a word of hope. But we are too close watched to do
aught but by stealth, and Annette is never suffered to approach the
prison alone. She is conducted thither by a grim warder, who waits
beside her till she has done her office, and then takes her away. They
do not know how we loathe and hate their wicked, cruel deeds; but they
know that women have ere this been known to pity helpless victims, and
they have an eye to us ever."
Gaston drew his breath more freely. Raymond, then, was for the moment
safe. No grievous bodily hurt had been done him as yet; and here outside
his prison was his brother, and one as devoted as though the tie of
blood bound them together, ready to dare all to save him from the hands
of his cruel foes.
"They are in no great haste," said the maiden; "they feel themselves so
strong. They say that no man can so much as discover where thy brother
has been spirited, still less snatch him from their clasp. They know the
French King will not stir to help a subject of the Roy Outremer, They
know that Edward of England is far away, and that he still avoids an
open breach of the truce. They are secure in the undisturbed possession
of their captive. I have heard them say that had he a hundred brothers
all working without to obtain his release, the walls of the Tower of
Saut would defy their utmost efforts."
"That we shall see," answered Gaston, with a fierce gleam in his eye;
and then his face softened as he said, "Now that we have for our ally
the enchanted princess of the Castle, many things may be done that else
would be hard of achievement."
His ardent look sent a flush of colour through the girl's transparent
skin, but her eyes did not waver as she looked frankly back at him.
"Nay; I am no princess, and I have no enchantments -- would that I had,
if they could be used in offices of pity and mercy! I am but a
portionless maiden, an orphan, an alien. Ofttimes I weep to think that I
too did not die when my parents did, in that terrible scourge which has
devastated the world, which I hear that you of England call the Black
Death."
"Who art thou then, fair maid?" questioned Gaston, who was all this time
cautiously approaching the Tower of Saut by a winding and unfrequented
path well known to his companion. Roger had been told to wait till the
other riders came up, and conduct them with great secrecy and caution
along the same path.
Their worst fears for Raymond partially set at rest, and the hope of a
speedy rescue acting upon their minds like a charm, Gaston was able to
think of other things, and was eager to know more of the lovely girl who
had twice shown herself to him in such unexpected fashion.
It was a simple little story that she told, but it sounded strangely
entrancing from her lips. Her name, she said, was Constanza, and her
father had been one of a noble Spanish house, weakened and finally
ruined by the ceaseless internal strife carried on between the proud
nobles of the fiery south. Her mother was the sister of the Sieur do
Navailles, and he had from time to time given aid to her father in his
troubles with his enemies. The pestilence which had of late devastated
almost the whole of Europe, had visited the southern countries some time
before it had invaded more northerly latitudes; and about a year before
Gaston's first encounter with the nymph of the wood, it had laid waste
the districts round and about her home, and had carried off both her
parents and her two brothers in the space of a few short days.
Left alone in that terrible time of trouble, surrounded by enemies eager
to pounce upon the little that remained of the wide domain which had
once owned her father's sway, Constanza, in her desperation, naturally
turned to her uncle as the one protector that she knew. He had always
showed himself friendly towards her father. He had from time to time
lent him substantial assistance in his difficulties; and when he had
visited at her home, he had shown himself kindly disposed in a rough
fashion to the little maiden who flitted like a fairy about the wide
marble halls. Annette, her nurse, who had come with her mother from
France when she had left that country on her nuptials, was a Gascon
woman, and had taught the language of the country to her young mistress.
It was natural that the woman should be disposed to return to her native
land at this crisis; and for Constanza to attempt to hold her own -- a
timid maiden against a score of rapacious foes -- was obviously out of
the question. Together they had fled, taking with them such family
jewels as could easily be carried upon their persons, and disguised as
peasants they had reached and crossed the frontier, and found their way
to Saut, where the Lord of Navailles generally spent such of his time as
was not occupied in forays against his neighbours, or in following the
fortunes either of the French or English King, as best suited the fancy
of the moment.
He had received his niece not unkindly, but with complete indifference,
and had soon ceased to think about her in any way. She had a home
beneath his roof. She had her own apartments, and she was welcome to
occupy herself as she chose. Sometimes, when he was in a better humour
than usual, he would give her a rough caress. More frequently he swore
at her for being a useless girl, when she might, as a boy, have been of
some good in the world. He had no intention of providing her with any
marriage portion, so that it was superfluous to attempt to seek out a
husband for her. She and Annette were occasionally of use when there was
sickness within the walls of the Castle, or when he or his followers
came in weary and wounded from some hard fighting. On the whole he did
not object to her presence at Saut, and her own little bower was not
devoid of comfort, and even of luxury.
But for all that, the girl was often sick at heart with all that she saw
and heard around her, and was unconsciously pining for some life, she
scarce knew what, but a life that should be different from the one she
was doomed to now.
"Sometimes I think that I will retire to a Convent and shut myself up
there," she said to Gaston, her eyes looking far away over the wooded
plain before them; "and yet I love my liberty. I love to roam the forest
glades -- to hear the songs of the bird, and to feel the fresh winds of
heaven about me. Methinks I should pine and die shut up within high
walls, without the liberty to rove as I will. And then I am not
/devote/. I love not to spend long hours upon my knees. I feel nearest
to the Blessed Saints and the Holy Mother of God out here in these
woods, where no ribald shouts of mirth or blasphemous oaths can reach
me. But the Sisters live shut behind high walls, and they love best to
tell their beads beside the shrine of some Saint within their dim
chapels. They were good to us upon our journey. I love and reverence the
holy Sisters, and yet I do not know how I could be one of them. I fear
me they would soon send me forth, saying that I was not fit for their life."
"Nay, truly such a life is not for thee!" cried Gaston, with unwonted
heat. "Sweet maiden, thou wert never made to pine away behind walls that
shelter such as cannot stand against the trials and troubles of life.
For it is not so with thee. Thou hast courage; thou hast a noble heart
and a strong will. There is other work for thee to do. Lady, thou hast
this day made me thy humble slave for ever. My brother once free, as by
thy aid I trust he will be ere another day has dawned, and I will repay
thy service by claiming as my reward the right to call myself thine own
true knight. Sweet Constanza, I will live and, if need be, die for thee.
Thou wilt henceforth be the light of my path, the star of my life. Lady,
thy face hath haunted me ever since that day, so long gone by, when I
saw thee first, scarce knowing if thou wert a creature of flesh and
blood or a sprite of the woodland and water. Fair women have I looked
upon ere now, but none so fair as thee. Let me but call myself thy true
and faithful knight, and the day will come when I will stand boldly
forth and make thee mine before all the world!"
Gaston had never meant to speak thus when he and his companion first
began this walk through the winding woodland path. Then his thoughts had
been filled with his brother and him alone, and there had been no space
for other matters to intrude upon him. But with a mind more at rest as
to Raymond's immediate fate, he could not but be aware of the intense
fascination exercised upon him by his companion; and before he well knew
what he was saying, he was pouring into her ears these ardent
protestations of devotion.
Her fair face flushed, and the liquid eyes, so full of softness and
fire, fell before his ardent gaze. The little hand he had taken in his
own quivered in his strong clasp, and Gaston felt with a thrill of
ecstatic joy that it faintly returned the pressure of his fingers.
"Lady, sweetest Lady!" he repeated, his words growing more and more
rapid as his emotion deepened, "let me hear thee say that thou wilt
grant me leave to call myself thy true knight! Let me hear from those
sweet lips that there is none before me who has won the love of this
generous heart!"
The maid was quivering from head to foot. Such words were like a new
language to her, and yet her heart gave a ready and sweet response. Had
she not sung of knightly wooers in the soft songs of her childhood, and
had she not dreamed her own innocent dreams of him who would one day
come to seek her? And had not that dream lover always worn the knightly
mien, the proud and handsome face, of him she had seen but once, and
that for one brief hour alone? Was it hard to give to him the answer he
asked? And yet how could she frame her lips aright to tell him she had
loved him ere he had asked her love?
"Fair Sir, how should a lonely maid dwelling in these wild woods know
aught of that knightly love of which our troubadours so sweetly sing? I
have scarce seen the face of any since I have come to these solitudes;
only the rough and terrible faces of those wild soldiers and savages who
follow mine uncle when he rideth forth on his forays."
Gaston's heart gave a throb of joy; but it was scarce the moment to
press his suit farther. Who could tell what the next few hours might
bring forth? He might himself fall a victim, ere another day had passed,
to the ancient foe of his house. It was enough for the present to know
that the fair girl's heart was free.
He raised the hand he held and pressed his lips upon it, saying in
tenderest tones:
"From henceforth -- my brother once standing free without these walls --
I am thy true knight and champion, Lady. Give me, I pray thee, that knot
of ribbon at thy neck. Let me place it in my head piece, and feel that I
am thine indeed for life or death."
With a hand that trembled, but not from hesitation, Constanza unfastened
the simple little knot she wore as her sole ornament, and gave it to
Gaston. They exchanged one speaking glance, but no word passed their lips.
By this time they had approached very near to the Tower, although the
thick growth of the trees hindered them from seeing it, as it also
concealed them from the eyes of any persons who might be upon the walls.
The evening light was now fast waning. Upon the tops of the heights the
sun still shone, but here in the wooded hollow, beside the sullen waters
of the moat, twilight had already fallen, and soon it would be dark as
night itself. The moon rose late, and for a space there would be no
light save that of the stars.
Constanza laid her finger upon her lips, and made a sign demanding
caution. Gaston understood that he was warned not to speak, and to tread
cautiously, which he did, stealing along after his fairy-like companion,
and striving to emulate her dainty, bird-like motions. He could see by
the glint of water that they were skirting along beside the moat, but he
had never approached so near to it before, and he knew not where they
were going.
Some men might have feared treachery, but such an idea never entered
Gaston's head. Little as he knew of his companion, he knew that she was
true and loyal, that she was beloved by him, and that her heart was
already almost won.
Presently the girl stopped and laid her hand upon his arm.
"This is the place," she whispered. "Come very softly to the water's
edge, and I will show you the dark hole opposite, just above the
waterline, where entrance can be made. There be no loopholes upon this
side of the Tower, and no watchman is needed where there be no foothold
for man to scale the wall beneath.
"Look well across the moat. Seest thou yon black mark, that looks no
larger than my hand? That is the entrance to a tunnel which slopes
upward until it reaches a narrow doorway in the thickness of the solid
wall whereby the underground chamber may be reached. Once there, thou
wilt see let into the wall a great wheel with iron spokes projecting
from it. Set that wheel in motion, and a portion of the flooring of the
chamber above will descend. When it has reached the ground, thou canst
ascend by reversing the wheel, leaving always some one in the chamber
below to work the wheel, which will enable thee to bring thy brother
down again. That accomplished, all that remains will be to creep again
through the narrow passage to the moat and swim across once more. Thou
canst swim?"
"Ay, truly. Raymond and I have been called fishes from our childhood. We
swam in the great mill pool almost ere we could well run alone. Many of
my stout fellows behind are veritable water rats. If my brother be not
able to save himself, there will be a dozen stout arms ready to support
him across the moat.
"And what will be the hour when this attempt must be made? What if the
very moment I reached my brother his jailer should come to him, and the
alarm be given through the Castle ere we could get him thence?"
"That it must be my office to prevent," answered the girl, with quiet
resolution. "I have thought many times of some such thing as this,
hoping as it seemed where no hope was, and Annette and I have taken
counsel together. Leave it to me to see that all the Castle is filled
with feasting and revelry. I will see that the mead which circulates
tonight be so mingled with Annette's potion that it will work in the
brains of the men till they forget all but rioting and sleep. For mine
uncle and his saturnine guest, I have other means of keeping them in the
great banqueting hall, far away from the lonely Tower where their
prisoner lies languishing. They shall be so well served at the board
this night, that no thought of aught beside the pleasure of the table
shall enter to trouble their heads. And at ten of the clock, if I come
not again to warn thee, cross fearlessly the great moat, and do as I
have bid thee. But if thou hearest from the Castle wall the hooting of
an owl thrice repeated like this" -- and the girl put her hands to her
mouth, and gave forth so exact an mutation of an owl's note that Gaston
started to hear it -- "thrice times thrice, so that there can be no
mistake, then tarry here on this side; stir not till I come again. It
will be a danger signal to tell that all is not well. But if at the hour
of ten thou hast heard naught, then go forward, and fear not. Thy
brother will be alone, and all men far away from the Tower. Take him,
and go forth; and the Blessed Saints bless and protect you all."
She stretched forth her hand and placed it in his. There was a sudden
sadness in her face. Gaston caught her hand and pressed it to his lips,
but he had more to say than a simple word of parting.
"But I shall see thee again, sweet Constanza? Am I not thy true knight?
Shall I not owe to thee a debt I know not how to pay? Thou wilt not send
me forth without a word of promise of another meeting? When can I see
thee again to tell thee how we have fared?"
"Thou must not dream of loitering here once thy object is secured,"
answered the girl, speaking very firmly and almost sternly, though there
was a deep sadness in her eyes. "It will not be many hours ere they find
their captive has escaped them, and they will rouse the whole country
after you. Nay, to linger is certain death; it must not be thought of.
In Bordeaux, and there alone, wilt thou be safe. It is thither that thou
must fly, for thither alone will the Sieur de Navailles fear to follow
you. For me, I must remain here, as I have done these many years. It
will not be worse than it hath ever been."
"And thinkest thou that I will leave thee thus to languish after thou
hast restored to me my brother?" asked Gaston hotly. "Nay, lady, think
not that of thine own true knight! I will come again. I vow it! First
will I to the English King, and tell in his ears a tale which shall
arouse all his royal wrath. And then will I come again. It may not be
this year, but it shall be ere long. I will come to claim mine own; and
all that is mine shall be thine. Sweet Lady, wouldst thou look coldly
upon me did I come with banners unfurled and men in arms against him
thou callest thine uncle? For the lands he holds were ours once, and the
English King has promised that they shall one day be restored, as they
should have been long ago had not this usurper kept his iron clutch upon
them in defiance of his feudal lord. Lady, sweet Constanza, tell me that
thou wilt not call me thy foe if I come as a foe to the Lord of Navailles!"
"Methinks thou couldst never be my foe," answered Constanza in a low
voice, pressing her hands closely together; "and though he be mine
uncle, and though he has given me a home beneath his roof, he has made
it to me an abode of terror, and I know that he is feared and hated far
and wide, and that his evil deeds are such that none may trust or love
him. I would not show ingratitude for what he hath done for me; but he
has been paid many times over. He has had all my jewels, and of these
many were all but priceless; and he gives me but the food I eat and the
raiment I wear. I should bless the day that set me free from this life
beneath his roof. There be moments when I say in mine heart that I
cannot live longer in such an evil place -- when I have no heart left
and no hope."
"But thou wilt have hope now!" cried Gaston ardently. "Thou wilt know
that I am coming to claim mine own, and with it this little hand, more
precious to me than all else besides. Sweetest Constanza, tell me that I
shall still find thee as thou art when I come to claim thee! I shall not
come to find thee the bride of another?"
He could not see her face in the dimness, but he felt her hand flutter
in his clasp like a bird in the hand of one who has tamed it, and whom
it trusts and loves. The next moment his arm was about her slight
figure, and her head drooped for a moment upon his shoulder.
"I shall be waiting," she whispered, scarce audibly. "How could I love
another, when thou hast called thyself my knight?"
He pressed a passionate kiss upon her brow.
"If this is indeed farewell for the present hour, it is a sweet one, my
beloved. I little thought, as I journeyed hither today, what I was to
find. Farewell, farewell, my lady love, my princess, my bride. Farewell,
but not for ever. I will come again anon, and then we will be no more
parted, for thou shalt reign in these grim walls, and no more dark tales
of horror shall be breathed of them. I will come again; I will surely
come. Trust me, and fear not!"
She stood beside him in the gathering darkness, and he could almost hear
the fluttering of her heart. It was a moment full of sweetness for both,
even though the shadow of parting was hanging over them.
A slight rustle amongst the underwood near to them caused them to spring
apart; and the girl fled from him, speeding away with the grace and
silent fleetness of a deer. Gaston made a stride towards the place
whence the sound had proceeded, and found himself face to face with Roger.
"The men are all at hand," he whispered. "I would not have them approach
too close till I knew your pleasure. They are all within the wood, all
upon the alert lest any foe be nigh; but all seems silent as the grave,
and not a light gleams from the Tower upon this side. Shall I bid them
remain where they are? or shall I bring them hither to you beside the
water?"
"Let them remain where they are for a while and see that the horses be
well fed and cared for. At ten o'clock, if all be well, the attempt to
enter the Tower is to be made; and once the prisoner is safe and in our
keeping, we must to Bordeaux as fast as horse will take us. The Sieur de
Navailles will raise the whole country after us. We must be beyond the
reach of his clutches ere we draw rein again."