"He would get better far more quickly could the trouble be removed from
his mind."
Gaston raised his head quickly, and asked:
"What trouble?"
Father Paul's face, thin and worn as of old, with the same keen,
kindling glance of the deep-set eyes, softened almost into a smile as he
met the questioning glance of Gaston's eyes.
"Thou shouldst know more of such matters than I, my son, seeing that
thou art in youth's ardent prime, whilst I wear the garb of a monk. Sure
thou canst not have watched beside thy brother's sickbed all these long
weeks without knowing somewhat of the trouble in his mind?"
"I hear him moan and talk," answered Gaston; "but he knows not what he
says, and I know not either. He is always feeling at his neck, and
calling out for some lost token. And then he will babble on of things I
understand not. But how I may help him I know not. I have tarried long,
for I could not bear to leave him thus; and yet I am longing to carry to
the King my tale of outrage and wrong. With every week that passes my
chance of success grows less. For Peter Sanghurst may have been before
me, and may have told his own false version of the tale ere I may have
speech with King or Prince. I know not what to do -- to stay beside
Raymond, or to hasten to England ere time be farther flown. Holy Father,
wilt thou not counsel me? I feel that every day lost is a day lived in
vain, ere I be revenged upon Raymond's cruel foes!"
The youth's eyes flashed. He clenched his hands, and his teeth set
themselves fast together. He felt like an eagle caged, behind these
protecting walls. For his brother's sake he was right glad of the
friendly shelter; but for himself he was pining to be free.
And yet how was he to leave that dearly-loved brother, whose eyes
followed him so wistfully from place to place, who brightened up into
momentary life when he entered the room, and took so little heed of what
passed about him, unless roused by Gaston's touch or voice? Raymond had
been very, very near to the gates of death since he had been brought
into the Monastery, and even now, so prostrated was he by the long
attack of intermittent fever which had followed his wonderful escape
from Saut, that those about him scarce knew how the balance would turn.
The fever, which had at first run high and had been hard to subdue, had
now taken another turn, and only recurred at intervals of a few days;
but the patient was so fearfully exhausted by all he had undergone that
he seemed to have no strength to rally. He would lie in a sort of trance
of weakness when the fever was not upon him, scarce seeming to breathe
unless he was roused to wakefulness by some word or caress from Gaston;
whilst on the days when the fever returned, he would lie muttering
indistinctly to himself, sometimes breaking forth into eager rapid
speech difficult to follow, and often trying to rise and go forth upon
some errand, no one knew what, and struggling hard with those who held
him back.
Father Paul had watched over the first stages of the illness with the
utmost care and tenderness, after which his duties called him away, and
he had only returned some three days since. The long hot summer in
Bordeaux had been a very trying one for the patient, whose state
prohibited any attempt at removal to a cooler, fresher air. But as
August was merging into September, and the days were growing shorter and
the heat something less oppressive, it was hoped that there might be a
favourable change in the patient's state; and much was looked for also
from Father Paul's skill, which was accounted something very great.
Gaston and Roger had remained within the Monastery walls in close
attendance upon the patient; but the restraint had been terribly irksome
to the temper of the young knight, and he was panting to be free to
pursue his quest, and to tell his story in the King's ears. He could not
but dread that in his absence some harm might befall his Constanza.
Suppose those two remorseless men suspected her to be concerned in the
flight of their victim, what form might not their vengeance take? It was
a thing that would scarce bear thinking of. Yet what could he do to save
her and to win her until he could make an organized attack upon Saut,
armed with full authority from England's King?
And now that Father Paul was back, might it not be possible that this
could be done? Gaston felt torn in twain betwixt his love for his
brother and his love for his betrothed. Father Paul would be able to
advise him wisely and well.
The Father looked earnestly into the ardent and eager face of the youth,
and answered quietly:
"Methinks thou hast been here long enough, my son. Thou mayest do better
for Raymond by going forth upon the mission thou hast set thyself. But
first I would ask of thee a few questions. Who is this lady of whom thy
brother speaks so oft?"
"Lady?" questioned Gaston, his eyes opening wide in surprise. "Does he
indeed speak of a lady?"
The Father smiled at the question.
"Thy thoughts must have been as wandering as his if thou dost not know
as much as that," he said, with a look that brought the hot blood into
Gaston's cheek, for he well knew where his own thoughts had been whilst
he sat beside his brother, scarce heeding the ceaseless murmur which
babbled from his unconscious lips.
It had never occurred to him that he could learn aught by striving to
catch those indistinct utterances; and his mind had been full to
overflowing with his own affairs.
"I knew not that he spoke of any lady," said the young knight, wondering
for a moment, with love's irrational jealousy, whether Raymond could
have seen his Constanza and have lost his heart to her.
Had she not spoken of having slipped once into his cell to breathe in
his ear a word of hope? Might not even that passing glimpse at such a
time have been enough to subjugate his heart? He drew his breath hard,
and an anxious light gleamed in his eye. But the Father continued
speaking, and a load seemed to roll from his spirit with the next words.
"It is of a lady whose name is Joan that he speaks almost ceaselessly
when the fever fit is on him. Sometimes he speaks, too, of his cousin,
that John de Brocas who lost his life in the Black Death through his
ceaseless labours amongst the sick. He is in sore trouble, as it seems,
by the loss of some token given him by the lady. He fears that some foul
use may be made by his foes of this same token, which he would sooner
have died than parted from. If thou knowest who this lady is and where
she may be found, it would do more for thy brother to have news of her
than to receive all the skilled care of the best physicians in the
world. I misdoubt me whether we shall bring him back to life without her
aid. Wherefore, if thou knowest where she may be found, delay not to
seek her. Tell her her lover yet lives, and bring him some message from
her that may give him life and health."
Gaston's eyes lighted. To be given anything to do -- anything but this
weary, wearing waiting and watching for the change that never came --
put new life into him forthwith.
"It must sure be Mistress Joan Vavasour thou meanest, Father," he said.
"Raymond spoke much of her when we were on shipboard together. I knew
not that his heart was so deeply pledged; but I see it all now. It is of
her that he is dreaming night and day. It is the loss of her token that
is troubling him now.
"Stop! what have I heard? Methinks that this same Peter Sanghurst was
wooing Mistress Joan himself once. Sure I see another motive in his
dastard capture of my brother. Perchance he had in him not only a rival
for the lands of Basildene, but for the hand of the lady. Father, I see
it all! Would that I had seen it before! It is Peter Sanghurst who has
robbed Raymond of his token, and he may make cruel use of what he has
treacherously filched away. I must lose not a day nor an hour. I must to
England in the wake of this villain. Oh, why did I not understand
before? What may he not have done ere I can stop his false mouth? The
King shall hear all; the King shall be told all the tale! I trow he will
not tarry long in punishing the coward traitor!"
Father Paul was less certain how far the King would interest himself in
a private quarrel, but Peter Sanghurst's recent action with regard to
Raymond might possibly be such as to stir even the royal wrath. At least
it was time that some watch should be placed upon the movements of the
owner of Basildene, for he would be likely to make a most unscrupulous
use of any power he might possess to injure Raymond or gain any hold
over the lady they both loved.
Roger being called in to the conference, and giving his testimony
clearly enough as to the frequent intercourse which had existed between
Mistress Joan Vavasour and Raymond de Brocas, and the evident attraction
each bore for the other, the matter appeared placed beyond the
possibility of all doubt. Gaston's resolve was quickly taken, and he
only waited till his brother could be aroused to fuller consciousness,
to start forth upon his double quest after vengeance and after Joan.
"Brother," he said, taking Raymond's hands in his, and bending tenderly
over him, "I am going to leave thee, but only for a time. I am going to
England to find thy Joan, and to tell her that thou art living yet, and
how thou hast been robbed of thy token."
A new light shone suddenly in Raymond's eyes. It seemed as though some
of the mists of weakness rolled away, leaving to him a clearer
comprehension. He grasped his brother's hand with greater strength than
Gaston believed him to possess, and his lips parted in a flashing smile.
"Thou wilt seek her and find her? Knowest thou where she is?"
"No; but I will go to seek her. I shall get news of her at Guildford. I
will to our uncle's house forthwith. Sir Hugh Vavasour can easily be found."
"He has been wandering in foreign lands this long while," answered
Raymond. "I know not whether he may have returned home. Gaston, if thou
findest her, save her from the Sanghurst. Tell her that I yet live --
that for her sake I will live to protect her from that evil man. He has
robbed me of the pledge of her love; I am certain of it. It was a
trinket not worth the stealing, and I had it ever about my neck. It was
taken from me when I was a prisoner and at their mercy, when I did not
know what befell me. He has it -- I am assured of that -- and what evil
use he may make of it I know not. Ah, if thou canst but find her ere he
can reach her side!"
"I will find her," answered Gaston, firmly and cheerfully. "Fear not,
Raymond; I have had harder tasks than this to perform ere now. Be it thy
part to shake off this wasting sickness. I will seek out thy Joan, and
will bring her to thy side. But let her not find thee in such sorry
plight. Thou lookest yet rather a corpse than a man. Thou wouldst fright
her by thy wan looks an she came to thee now."
Wan and white and wasted did Raymond indeed appear, as though a breath
would blow him away. Upon his face was that faraway, ethereal look of
one who has been lingering long beside the portal of another world, and
scarce knows to which he belongs. It sometimes seemed as though the
angel song of the unseen realm was oftener heard and understood by him
than the voices of those about him. But the fever cloud was slowly
lifting from his brain, and today the first impulse to a real recovery
had been given by these few words with his brother.
Raymond's recollection of past events was coming back to him
connectedly, and the thought of Joan acted like a tonic upon him. For
her sake he would live; for her sake he would make a battle for his
life. Had he not vowed himself to her service? and did any woman stand
more in need of her lover's strong arm than the daughter of Sir Hugh
Vavasour?
Raymond had gauged the character of that knight before, and knew that he
would sell his daughter without scruple to any person who would make it
worth his while. It had been notorious in old days that the Sanghursts
had some peculiar hold upon him, and was it likely that Peter Sanghurst,
who was plainly resolved to make Joan his wife, would allow that power
to rest unused when it might be employed for the furtherance of his
purpose? To send Gaston forth upon the quest for Joan was much; but he
himself must fight this wasting sickness, that he might be ready to go
to her when the summons came that she was found, and was ready to
welcome her faithful knight.
From that hour Raymond began to amend; and although his progress was
slow, and seemed doubly slow to his impatience, it was steady and sure,
and he was as one given back from the dead.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mistress Joan Vavasour, boy? why, all the world is making that inquiry.
How comes it that thou, by thine own account but just home from Gascony,
shouldst be likewise asking the same question?"
Master Bernard de Brocas turned his kindly face towards Gaston with a
look of shrewd inquiry in his eyes. His nephew had arrived but a short
half-hour at his house, somewhat jaded by rapid travelling, and after
hurriedly removing the stains of the journey from his person, was seated
before a well-supplied board, whilst the cleric sat beside him, always
eager for news, and exceedingly curious to know the history of the twin
brothers, who for the past six months seemed to have vanished from the
face of the earth. But for the moment Gaston was too intent upon asking
questions to have leisure to answer any.
"How?" he questioned; "what mean you, reverend Sir? Everybody asking
news of her? How comes that about?"
"Marry, for the reason that the lady hath disappeared these last three
weeks from her father's house, and none can tell whither she has fled,
or whether she has been spirited away, or what hath befallen her. Sir
Hugh is in a mighty taking, for he had just arranged a marriage betwixt
her and Peter Sanghurst, and the lady had given her consent (or so it is
said, albeit there be some who doubt the truth of that), and he is
sorely vexed to know what can have become of her."
"Peter Sanghurst! that arch-villain!" cried Gaston, involuntarily laying
his hand on the hilt of his dagger. "Mine uncle, I have come to ask
counsel of thee about that same miscreant. I am glad that he at least
has not fled the country. He shall not escape the fate he so richly merits."
And then, with flashing eyes and words eloquent through excess of
feeling, Gaston related the whole story of the past months: the
appearance on board the vessel of the Black Visor; the concerted action
against Raymond carried out by Sanghurst, thus disguised, and the Sieur
de Navailles; and the cruelty devised against him, from which he had
escaped only by something of a miracle.
And as Master Bernard de Brocas listened to this tale of treachery,
planned and carried out against one of his own name and race, an
answering light shone in his eyes, and he smote his palms together,
crying out in sudden wrath:
"Gaston, the King shall hear of this! Thou shalt tell to him the tale as
thou hast told it to me. He will not hear patiently of such indignities
offered to a subject of his, not though the King of France himself had
done it! That Sieur de Navailles is no friend to England. I know him
well, and his false, treacherous ways. I have heard much of him ere now,
and the King has his eye upon him. Gaston, this hollow truce cannot long
continue. The nobles and the King are alike weary of a peace which is no
peace, and which the King of France or his lords are continually
breaking. A very little, and the flame of war will burst out anew. It
may be that even this tale of thine may put the spark to the train (as
they say of these new artillery engines that are so astonishing men by
their smoke and noise), and that the Prince, when he hears of it, will
urge his father to march once more into France, and put an end to the
petty annoyances and treacherous attacks which are goading the royal
lion of England to wrath and fury."
"Pray Heaven it may!" cried Gaston, starting to his feet and pacing up
and down the hall. "Thou knowest, uncle mine, how the Prince and the
King did long ago confirm to me the rights of the De Brocas to the
ancient Castles of Orthez and Saut. If he would but give me his royal
warrant for mustering men and recovering mine own, I trow, be the walls
of Saut never so strong, that I would speedily make mine entrance within
them! Uncle, the Sieur de Navailles is hated and feared and reviled by
all men for miles around his walls. I trow that, even amongst those who
bear arms for him, some would be found who would gladly serve another
master. Stories of the punishments he is wont to inflict upon all who
fall beneath his displeasure have passed from mouth to mouth, and bitter
is the rage burning in the breasts of those whose helpless kinsfolk have
suffered through his tyrant cruelty. I trow an armed band, coming in the
name of the English King, could soon smoke that old fox out of his hole;
whilst all men would rejoice at his fall. Let me to the King -- let me
tell my tale! I burn to be on the wing once more! Where may his Majesty
be found?"
"Softly, softly, boy! We must think somewhat more of this. And we have
two foes, not one alone, to deal with. Peter Sanghurst is, as it were,
beneath our very hand. He is at Basildene, fuming like a wild thing at
the sudden disappearance of Mistress Joan. There be, nevertheless, some
who say that this wrath is all assumed; that he has captured the lady,
and holds her a prisoner in his hands, all the while pretending to know
naught of her. I know not what truth there may be in such rumours. The
Sanghurst bears an evil name, and many are the stories whispered about him."
"What!" almost shouted Gaston, in the fierceness of his excitement,
"Mistress Joan a prisoner in Basildene, the captive of that miscreant!
Uncle, let us lose not an hour! Let us forthwith to the King. He will
give us his royal warrant, and armed with that we will to Basildene, and
search for her there, and free her ere the set of sun. Oh, it would be
like him -- it would be all in a piece with his villainy! I cannot rest
nor breathe till I know all. Uncle, may we not set forth this very day
-- this same night?"
The worthy ecclesiastic laid a hand upon Gaston's shoulder.
"Boy," he said, "I will myself to the King this very day. The moon will
soon be up, and the way is familiar to me and my men. But thou shalt
tarry here. Thou hast travelled far today, and art weary and in need of
rest. Perchance, in this matter of the Sanghurst, I shall do better
without thee. Thou shalt see the King anon, and shalt tell him all thy
tale; but methinks this matter of Basildene had best be spoken of
betwixt him and me alone. Thou knowest that I have for long been in the
King's favour and confidence, and have managed many state matters for
him. Thou mayest therefore leave thy cause in my hands. I have all the
papers safe that thou broughtest from Gascony long since, and have left
in my care these many years. I have been awaiting my opportunity to lay
the matter of Basildene before the King, and now I trow that the hour
has come."
Gaston stopped short in his restless pacing, a bright light in his eyes.
"Thou thinkest to oust the Sanghurst thence -- to gain Basildene for
Raymond?"
"Ay, verily I do. It is your inheritance by right; the papers prove it.
Ye were deprived of it by force, and now the hour of restitution has
come. As to thee are secured the Gascon lands, when they can be wrested
from the hand of the foe, so shall Basildene be secured to Raymond,
albeit he has not won his spurs as thou hast done, boy, and that right
lustily. But I know much good of Raymond. He will worthily fill his
place. Go now to rest, boy, and leave this matter in mine hands. I
warrant thee the cause shall not suffer for being intrusted to me. Get
thee to rest. Fear not; and ere two days be passed thou shalt have
tidings of some sort from me."
Gaston would fain have been his uncle's companion on the road, but he
knew better than to insist. Master Bernard de Brocas well knew what he
was about, and was plainly deeply interested in the story he had heard.
Raymond had long been high in his favour. To cause to recoil upon the
head of the treacherous Sanghurst the vengeance he had plotted against
his own nephew, to punish him for his treachery -- to wrest from his
rapacious grasp the lands and the Manor of Basildene, was a task
peculiarly agreeable to the statesman, who knew well what he was about
and the master whom he served. Basildene was no great possession, but it
might be greatly increased in value, and there was rumour of buried
hoards there which might speedily restore the old house to more than its
former splendour. At any rate, its lands and revenues would be a modest
portion for a younger son, who still had the flower of his life before
him, and was like to rise in the King's favour. The romantic story of
his love, his sufferings, his rescue from the two foes of his house, was
certain to appeal to the King and his son, whilst the treachery of those
foes would equally rouse the royal wrath.
Master Bernard departed for Windsor with the rising of the moon; and
Gaston passed a restless night and day wondering what was passing at
Windsor, and feeling, when he retired to rest upon the second night, as
though his excitement of mind must drive slumber from his eyes. Nor did
sleep visit him till the tardy dawn stole in at the window, and when he
did sleep he slept long and soundly.
He was aroused by the sound of a great trampling in the courtyard below;
and springing quickly from his couch, he saw the place full of
men-at-arms, all wearing either the badge of the De Brocas or else that
of the Prince of Wales.
Throwing on his clothes in great haste, and scarce tarrying to buckle on
his sword, Gaston strode from his chamber and hastened down the great
staircase. At the foot of this stood one whom well he knew, and with an
inarticulate exclamation of delight he threw himself upon one knee
before the young Prince, and pressed his lips to the hand graciously
extended to him.
"Nay, Gaston; thy friend and comrade, not thy sovereign!" cried the
handsome youth gaily, as he raised Gaston and looked smilingly into his
face, his own countenance alight with satisfaction and excitement. "Ah,
thou knowest not how glad I am to welcome thee once more! For the days
be coming soon when I must needs rally all my brave knights about me,
and go forth to France for a new career of glory there. But today
another task is ours, and not as thy Prince, but thy good comrade, have
I come. I will forth with thee to the den of this foul Sanghurst, and
together will we search his house for the lady men say he has so
cunningly spirited away; and if she be found indeed languishing in
captivity there, then in very truth shall the Sanghurst feel the wrath
of the royal Edward. He shall live to feel the iron hand of the King he
has outraged and defied! But he shall pay the forfeit of his life.
England shall be rid of one of her greatest villains when Peter
Sanghurst feels the halter about his neck!"