THE LEGEND OF THE POOL.
"... The legend tells how sad
The shepherd left his flock to watch the mere;
And how at times his grief grew wild, and glad
He hail'd the star which tells that day is near;
But ne'er to him his love did reappear.
Yet some aver, when dawn begins to break
On one, the longest day of all the year,
A breathing's-space, the maid, for old love's sake,
Doth raise her golden locks above the gloomy lake."
--JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD.
The gay-hearted Lady Rosamond greeted her old friend and his young
charge on the following day with much enthusiasm, welcoming Primrose
heartily as her guest, and herself leading her to her chamber,
remarking as she did so, that she hated ever to have servants at her
heels, and intended to wait upon so fair a maiden with her own hands.
"For which I doubt not I shall presently suffer the wrath of my liege
lord," she said with a gay laugh; "for he would have me so surrounded
with my minions, for fear that I should in any wise overtax my
strength, that I can at times scarce move a finger without their
help! For my own part, I love greater freedom, and care not for my
maidens' assiduities, wherefore my lord and I often come to high
words, I do assure you, sweet Primrose, and you must e'en be prepared
to keep the peace betwixt us, an you would not see blows exchanged
betimes. You laugh, girl, and believe me not? Ah, well! I will not
wish you a better consort than my own, for I were scarce so wild and
wayward, I promise you, an he did not spoil me so! This, let me warn
you, is King Arthur's own chamber, in which you shall take your rest
right royally. Should his spirit haunt you in the night-time, you
will not be afraid?" "That I dare not promise," answered Primrose,
"for I have never yet chanced to see a ghost, and since they are
fearsome things, I cannot tell how I might bear the sight. But I
need scarce fear the shade of King Arthur, having ever held him in
such admiration that he would not have the heart to harm me!" "Nay,
then, the chamber is not really haunted," said Lady Rosamond,
laughing; "and nought but the holy face of Sir Galahad shall visit
your dreams, I promise you. You have never yet seen my Sir Galahad,
have you?" "Never," replied Primrose, "for during his last visit to
these parts, of which we heard rumours at Christmas-tide, he did not
vouchsafe to offer his services either to Master Rhys or to any of
our near neighbours, and his first visit of all was during my stay
with the Lady Bryn Afon, so that I have never yet had the opportunity
of listening to his masterful lectures. It is true, is it not, that
he is already chosen by our Lord Bryn Afon to be his chaplain after
his ordination?" "Yes, he is so honoured, if honour it be," answered
Lady Rosamond; "but he has yet over a year to wait ere he is of age
for the taking of Holy Orders, and beyond that a couple more years of
self-imposed waiting. I warrant you I spare him not for his
presumption in opening his mouth in public ere he is of sufficient
age and discretion to enter the pulpit! And that, as you see, he has
no mind to enter yet awhile, since he has made this fixed resolve not
to seek ordination before the age of five-and-twenty, in order (as I
must suppose) that he may, after two added years of study, wield yet
more weighty weapons of learning and oratory! He is verily a
Quixotic youth, but my husband and I regard him with an unbounded
admiration, and shall grudge to relinquish him to our neighbours of
Bryn Afon, since we at present enjoy his company some two or three
times in a year. You must know that his course at Cambridge is now
completed, and he has this past Easter-tide taken his degree with
splendid honours, which have driven him forth to hide awhile his
blushing countenance abroad, in company with his bosom friend, Master
Jeremy Taylor, who has likewise marvellously well acquitted himself.
After the vacation is ended they will grace the sister University
with their talents, having both had Fellowships at the College of All
Souls, in the city of Oxford, conferred upon them in reward for their
labours. Greatly rejoiced are they, I warrant you, at so pleasing an
opportunity for continuation of their mutual study and delight in one
another's society! Our neighbour, the Earl of Carbery, across the
river, is vastly taken with young Master Taylor, but he is scarce
likely to bury himself in a Welsh chaplaincy or remote town
hereabouts, having before him excellent prospects of preferment in
England. The eye of Archbishop Laud is said to be upon him, and I
doubt not he will make his mark in the Church one day, as might my
friend Percival Vere likewise do easily enough, but that I fear
neither eye of king or archbishop hath power to stir within him aught
of earthly ambition, his whole soul being given to the saving of us
all from the bitter fate of the drunkard! Ah, well, he will find a
stauncher supporter of his strange theories in Lady Bryn Afon than in
me, and indeed, were I in her place, I might see greater cause to
agree with him." "How so?" asked Primrose wonderingly. "He that
must needs shoot does well to find a high mark for his arrows,
child," said Lady Rosamond; "and our apostle of temperance will find
such a mark easily enough, I promise you. But this is idle talk, to
pass no further than betwixt us two. Come, I hear the gong sound for
our midday meal, and my lord will chide me if I tarry." And like
some gay butterfly she fluttered off to the banqueting-hall, her arm
round Primrose's waist, greeting her husband in the doorway with a
hearty embrace before presenting to him her blushing young guest, who
hung back somewhat shyly at the sight of the grave, stately Sir Ivor,
whom she had never before seen. "Now I beg of you, Shanno,"
exclaimed Lady Rosamond, "to stand in no awe of my husband! He has
truly a grave and almost reverend exterior, but within he has a kind
heart; and since he has these many years tolerated my wiles with a
good grace, you may know he is scarce so terrible as he appears!"
Whereupon Primrose could but laugh heartily, while the grave muscles
of Sir Ivor's face relaxed, and he joined in the laugh against
himself, with perfect understanding of his wife's gay speeches. And
after a few kind words from him, Primrose grew quite at her ease, and
the meal passed merrily enough, the earl telling many interesting
tales of the old castles, legends of King Arthur, and more recent
stories of the part Caer Caradoc had played in the old warfare
between Wales and England, and of marvellous escapes made in such
times by means of the wonderful subterranean passage into which he
offered to take her one day, on condition that his wife would prove
her affection for him by accompanying them. ''Tis a hard trial of my
constancy!" said Lady Rosamond, shivering with mock terror. "I will
make no rash promises. Perchance before fair Shanno leaves us she
may instil more strength into my poor weak soul than it can as yet
boast; but if not, she shall not go without me, for never shall it be
said of your wife that she suffered a hapless maiden to be lured into
the deeps of the earth to her destruction! So, Primrose, you must
needs rouse me to a greater height of courage than now, or make up
your mind not to hazard your life in such an abyss of darkness." "I
am not sure if I have courage enough of my own," said Primrose; "but
I would dearly like to explore the passage, and would trust that the
bravery of Sir Ivor might avail for us all. Think you, dear Master
Rhys, that my guardian would forbid me to go in company with others?"
"Nay, I think not so," answered the vicar, "for you will be safe
enough in Sir Ivor's keeping, since I know him to have been
acquainted from boyhood with every twist and turn in the tunnel. I
would like well enough to accompany you myself, but that my old bones
are too venerable for such stooping and rattling over loose stones in
darkness!" "No such penance shall be enforced upon you, dear
friend," said Lady Rosamond. "We will engage ourselves this forenoon
with pastimes less fatiguing to our limbs and nerves, and leave this
expedition until some day when you are no longer with us. Come,
Primrose, we will walk in the garden awhile, and you, dear friend,
will find us there anon, should you be disposed to come and see my
summer blossoms. Meanwhile we will leave you to the tender mercies
of my liege lord, who will weary you with discussion of king and
parliament while we turn our attention to lighter matters."
Primrose found that time by no means hung heavily upon her hands in
the society of her cheerful hostess, and the days passed gaily enough
within the grim old castle walls. Each day she rode out with Lady
Rosamond and Sir Ivor, exploring the beautiful country in many
directions hitherto unknown to her, visiting with them other ancient
castles and venerable mansions, which vied with Caer Caradoc in
rugged stateliness and historic interest; and even penetrating one
day far up into the wild Craig Aran range, where hill after hill
rolled away in soft shadow or purple darkness, and green valleys
broke away on every side, clothed with woods in all the soft
freshness of their mid-summer beauty, while far ahead loomed the
rocky Peak, which formed the summit of the ridge, towering giant-like
above the softer and more rounded hills below, and shelving steeply
down to the mysterious Pool at its base--a silent sheet of black
water, shut in on three sides by the steep walls of the mountain-top,
where there ever reigned a wonderful silence, broken only by some
distant sheep-bell, or call of shepherd-boy or cowherd on the plain.
"About a mile or so from yon Peak," said Lady Rosamond, "there stands
a lone farmstead, which the Lady Bryn Afon loves to frequent in the
summer-time. It is a desolate spot, far removed from the nearest
village, and even from other farms or cottages, but it charmed her
long since by its romantic situation and the beautiful scenery
around, and she loves to pass some quiet weeks now and again within
its walls, at such times as her lord is detained unusually long about
the Court. For my part, I should mope my life away in such a region,
with none but a curious old farm-woman and her family, who speak not
one word of English, for my company! But the Lady Bryn Afon has so
great a love for this barbarous tongue of ours, and is moreover so
solitary a spirit, that, as I say, it is her delight to bury herself
there when she may. There is a marvellous legend of some fair
maiden, who appears on Midsummer Eve from out the lake, and wanders
round its shores. I know not the precise story, but Master Rhys
Prichard, at whose house we shall tarry awhile on our way homewards
for refreshment and an hour's pleasant converse, will repeat it for
you, for he is learned in all our mystic lore beyond most men. Ah,
Primrose, I have a thought! We will come and watch for her, you and
I, next Midsummer Eve, an we are alive! I have longed many a time to
prove for myself the truth of the tale, and you must perforce behold
the enchanted spot ere many more years roll over your head, else your
education as a good Welsh maiden will scarce be completed. Alas,
that the thought did not come to me a week since! then could we have
cajoled my lord into a charming midnight excursion this Midsummer Eve
just passed." "I would dearly love to go!" said Primrose, her eyes
shining with excitement. "I know the tale well, and dad has often
said he would do his best to take me some day to see the magic lady;
but he is old, and would be over-much wearied by the journey, besides
that we should scarce know ourselves how to accomplish it. It would
indeed be delightful, an I might next year go with you! Or even, if
we could not go by night to see the fairy maiden, it would be joy
enough to see the old farmhouse and the wonderful lakes, and to climb
the Peak and look upon the world from the top of the mountain!" "You
shall see it all, child," said Lady Rosamond; "and we will certainly
see the supernatural as well as the beauties of nature! Should it
fail us, I will e'en write forthwith a treatise in contradiction of
the legend, and all other tales of equally lying folly! Tell me the
tale then. I forgot that you were e'en such a student that for
book-lore I must blush for very shame in your presence!" Whereupon
Primrose related the story, which ran as follows:--
"In days of yore there dwelt in the valley beneath the shadow of the
lofty Craig Aran the widow of a peasant and her only son, whose only
riches were their flocks and herds, over which the youth watched
tenderly from day to day on the lonely mountain-side. For the sake
of his own fair countenance, as well as for the sake of a share in
those goodly herds, the young man's hand was greatly craved in
marriage by many a loving mother in the country-side for her fair
daughters, but on none of these comely maidens did he look with
favour, being ever occupied with daydreams of an ideal maiden, so
wondrous fair that none yet seen might bear compare with her.
"One day it fell that as his eyes were fixed in deep thought upon the
glassy surface of the lake, which lies so still beneath yon Peak, he
beheld a herd of white oxen rise from the water, driven by a swan,
which, as he gazed, grew into a lovely maiden, with eyes as blue as
the sky and as bright as the stars, and gleaming golden hair, which
clothed her like a beauteous outer raiment almost to her feet. His
heart, long untouched by mortal maiden, melted within him at the fair
vision, more fair, in sooth, than all his dreams, and, stretching out
his arms towards her in deep yearning, he offered her of his bread.
But with a smile she glided from his clasp and vanished, laughing,
beneath the wave. A second day he came, and once more the beautiful
vision appeared to his longing eyes, and he again offered her his
bread to eat, but she vanished from sight as before, so that he went
home sadly, and pined for days in secret, till, no longer able to
bear alone his woe, he confessed to his mother the strange tale and
the love he bore the magic maiden. She bade him seek his love yet
once again, and on the eve of Midsummer Day he trod in trembling the
lonely path up the mountain-side, and lay till midnight on the shore
of the black lake, consumed with impatient longing for the fair
vision. At last to his wondering gaze there appeared upon the dark
surface of the water a slice of magic milk-white bread, of which, as
it drew near to his outstretched hand, he partook, kneeling
reverently upon the bare earth the while. Then once more the phantom
herd glided forth to land, driven by the wondrous maiden, who, rowing
swiftly in her golden shallop to the shore, cast herself with joyful
cry into his longing arms, and together they partook of what remained
of the magic bread, and confessed their mutual love on the lake's
dark brink, ere he led her homewards. So, through the eating of this
wondrous bread, their souls were knit in one, and she became his
loving bride, promising all wifely love and obedience, with this
warning only, that since she, an immortal maiden, was thus wed to
mortal man, he must needs ever bear in mind, that should he in all
the course of their life together e'er chance three times to strike
her, she and her fair herds must return at once to their own people.
Some years they dwelt together ere any shadow crossed their path;
fair children were born to them, and their flocks and herds
multiplied exceedingly; but one day, while they were still in the
flower of youth, they were bidden to a christening, and he, finding
that she lingered awhile, not greatly moved on account of her own
primeval faith to witness the ceremony, struck her in play upon the
shoulder, chiding her for her tardiness; whereupon she bade him
beware, and ever bear in mind that he had once done the forbidden
deed. Long after, at a wedding-feast, her far-seeing soul warned her
of great sorrow in store for the newly-married pair; she wept
bitterly, and once again her husband, lightly chiding her for thus
marring the feast with her tears, touched her arm in gentle reproof,
and once again in solemn warning she bade him beware. After many
years again, they were bidden to a funeral, and she, knowing well the
happiness of the holy departed, could not forbear to laugh softly to
herself as she mused thereon. Her husband, grieved that any should
think her light-hearted in the midst of woe, again tapped her gently
on the shoulder, whereupon her mirth suddenly ceased, and she grew
still as death. Then, rising quickly, she bade him farewell in great
sorrow of heart and was gone, and he watching her, horror-struck,
depart, beheld her vanish from his sight, not in the guise of his
long-wedded wife, but in the fairy form of the golden-haired maiden
of old. Alone she wended her way to the solitary hills, calling her
cattle around her, and in long procession they followed her to the
lake, in which they disappeared. Her husband, broken-hearted, ne'er
trod again the shores of the mysterious lake, but her sons watched
oft for her, and one day saw at last the maiden in her shallop of
gold appear on the surface, but they saw in her no similitude of
their aged mother, and turned away weeping. Then a voice drew them
back suddenly, and turning once more to the lake they beheld with joy
their beloved mother, who spake lovingly with them, promising to
teach them wondrous lore of herbs and plants, that they should heal
their neighbours and become wise in all physicians' learning; and
also she promised ever to be with them in their work, sustaining them
by her magic presence. So day by day her sons went to cull simples
on the mountain-side at eventide, and in time waxed wondrous wise,
and worked cures which made their names famous throughout the
country-side. They also had lands given them, and lived to a great
old age in peace and plenty, and in doing good to their neighbours.
And the shepherds, keeping their flocks on the mountains, were wont
to hear a voice speaking with these learned brothers as they culled
their herbs in the 'Physicians' Dingle,' and sometimes there they
even saw at their side a radiant form.
"And there have never been wanting in any age since the time when
this wonderful thing befell, wise and marvellously learned physicians
in the valleys below Craig Aran, who could trace their descent from
the mystic maiden who wedded the young shepherd of Glyn Melen, and
even at this very day there is said to be one at least remaining of
those skilled medicine-men, though none in our valley can tell where
he may be seen."
"A charming legend truly!" exclaimed Lady Rosamond, "and right well
told. Shame upon me to have presumed to live thus long without
acquainting myself with so pretty a tale, save in such shreds and
scattered fragments as my maids have at times let fall! Well, look
you, sweet Primrose, should we both be alive at this same time next
year, nothing shall content me but Sir Ivor shall perforce convey us
both on Midsummer Eve to yon farmhouse of Glyn Melen, where we will
obtain a night's lodging, stealing forth at midnight to prove the
truth of your tale. And should it prove false, I bid you beware of
my lord's vengeance, for I shall hardly persuade him to undertake
such a fool's errand, such scorn thinks he of all 'old wives'
fables,' as he must needs call them! And should we drag him forth at
dead of night for nought, I tremble even now to think what satire we
must endure at his hands, and for very shame and fear I shall lay all
the blame on you, I promise you!" "I will bear willingly your share
and my own likewise," answered Primrose eagerly, "an you can but
prevail upon Sir Ivor to grant your request; an the fairy maiden will
not rise at our bidding, we shall yet have seen enough to make his
wrath well worth enduring, for the scenery by night will be grand
enough to repay us, and we would have right good fun, I doubt not."
"Well, it is a bargain," said Lady Rosamond. "An you can prevail
upon your good foster-father to entrust you again to my keeping, with
as much ease as I shall cajole my liege lord into accompanying us,
'twill be arranged without great trouble! You will not believe it,
fair Shanno, of one so grave and stately, but I have but to put my
arms round his neck and whisper in his ear, and I might ask for a
kingdom! I wish you may have as good a husband as mine! I marvel at
times to think you are not already wed. So fair as you are, you must
needs ere now have made havoc of many hearts!" "I trust not," said
Primrose, with a blush. "That would seem to me but a sorry ambition;
and must that be the forfeit poor men must needs pay for looking on
my face, I would fain dwell unseen in the valley, as now, all my
days!" "Fie, thou art over serious, child," said Lady Rosamond with
a laugh. "An aching heart is the forfeit men must ever pay to beauty
such as yours! You will get used to the thought in time, I warrant
you. Confess now; have you never yet set one aching, to the best of
your knowledge?" "I know of none," answered Primrose demurely.
"Truly there were some three or four stalwart youths from the farms
near by, who awhile ago would pass me on the bridge, and sigh, and
clasp their hand to their heart as they went by, and who moreover
were bold enough to ask my hand--not of me, for that they dare
not!--but of my foster-father; but methinks I need feel no sorrow on
their behalf, since they have all since repented of their folly, and
married sweethearts of their own way of life. And as for others,
why, I have lived in too great solitude to see them, besides that my
mind is ever too filled with thoughts of my mother, to have room in
it for marriage. I would fain find her first, and learn who I
rightly am, and why she has so strangely dealt with me, ere I dream
too much of lovers and weddings." "You are a wise and dutiful
daughter, sweet one," said Lady Rosamond caressingly, "and I wish for
you none other than the best of mothers, and the happiest of lives.
Yet since Heaven has blessed me with so good and true a husband, I
can but wish for you that you may some day meet with such another!
It is good to have a partner of all one's joys and sorrows, and a
brave companion ever at hand, whom one may plague to one's heart's
content! Think you not my lord and I are a pattern couple?"
"Methinks you are a truly happy one," said Primrose softly; "and I
think no scorn of married life, for all I am in no haste to enter
upon it, for it must surely be the most beautiful life to live, if
God so wills it. Yet since it is a life which so many seem to mar
with great miseries, I would fain never enter upon it at all than
miss its beauty, as they." "Beware lest you ever shine, a solitary
star, in a dark sky of your own making!" said Lady Rosamond, holding
up a warning finger. "It is thus that I threaten young Percival
Vere, who while chivalrous as any gallant knight of old towards our
sex, must needs, like the shepherd of your tale, hold such particular
virtues and graces to be needful for his own ideal maiden, that 'tis
scarce in any mortal damsel he will find them! Methinks I had best
counsel him likewise to visit yon Pool some day at midnight's
witching hour, for it would be but fair to give him such a fine
chance of wooing an immortal maiden, since he will scarce e'er find
any one of her earthly sisters to his choice! Nay, I will cease my
foolish chatter, dear heart, since it brings such blushes to your
fair cheeks. I will e'en leave both you and our 'lily-knight'--for
so you must know they call him at Christ's College--to soar to your
mountain-tops an you will. I do verily suppose the atmosphere of
such heights, being nearer Heaven, must needs be purer and clearer
than what we more earthly beings are privileged to breathe below, and
I grudge you not your soaring, since it hath so charming effect. Now
blush not, girl! Why, verily, your face is like a weather-glass!
Does no one then ever tell you of all your charms? I knew my own, at
your age, well enough, I promise you, and had I then so fair a rival,
could have died of envy!" "Ah, talk not so!" said Primrose. "You
think not how you may turn my poor head with such idle talk. And if
you lived in our hamlet, with Master Jones ever at your elbow to warn
you of the evil of setting too high a price upon your perishing
beauty, you would not wantonly strive to stir up my vanity. I would
you could see Master Jones and hear him discourse! But I fear me he
would be so over-much shocked at your levity, that he would be struck
dumb, and but roll the whites of his eyes in silence, thus----"
"Fie, Primrose!" said her friend with a laugh, "so to mock the good
man! Ah, it is he of whom dear Master Rhys told me, who upbraids you
for study of the _Morte d' Arthur_ and the Faery Queene, and the good
old _Tales_ of Master Chaucer. Speaking of King Arthur, do you know
that my Sir Galahad, who, as I told you, is of Welsh birth on his
mother's side, is descended from none other than Ap Gryffyth himself,
our last luckless king, of whose lost crown he is the rightful heir,
and whose head was hung up on the gates of Carnarvon by our hated
conqueror, the first Edward of England? I tell you I do so regard
the youth, that I would fain go a-fighting to regain his crown and
kingdom for him, an he had left in his recreant bosom but one spark
of loyalty to his dead relative wherewith to encourage me! You and I
would lead a rebellion, Primrose, and Caer Caradoc should be stormed
by King Charles's armies, and we would smuggle away the young Ap
Gryffyth through the secret passage. You should save him, and he
would marry you out of gratitude, and make you Queen of Wales! There
is a sweet romance for you! The only drawback is that the youth is a
miscreant wretch, having but a romantic love for his royal ancestor,
and a poetic pity for his hapless fate, while from his English father
he has imbibed so strong a spirit of loyalty to the English nation
and the House of Stuart, that he will die for King Charles sooner
than aid us in our noble scheme! Well, never mind. My husband is
ever telling me that I am full to the brim of misdirected energy, but
better that, say I, than none at all!" "Since your ladyship is so
keen on war and bloodshed," said Primrose, "your courage must surely
not fail at the prospect of entering the secret passage! Have you
forgot Sir Ivor's promise? And to-morrow is my last day in your
company." "I would fight bravely in open daylight," said Lady
Rosamond valiantly, "yet my proud spirit quails in the dark like that
of any frightened child! Man, I tell you, child, and still less
woman, was not made to crawl on all-fours for miles, by the light of
a solitary candle, which, on the verge of the bottomless well is sure
to be extinguished by some satyr's breath below, precipitating us to
unknown depths of darkness! Such places are relics of barbarous
times, when efts and pixies dwelt in the land. Yet sooner than be
outdone by a girl like you, I will e'en adventure myself into the
passage! Long ago I would have done so, save that in me the
curiosity of my sex is ever so evenly balanced with sloth and
laziness that I am willing enough to forego knowledge of that which
gives me trouble. So it was with me as a child, whence my present
ignorance on divers subjects, fragments of which were but driven in
upon the surface of the brain with cuff and blow. Ah well! I will
go, as spoke my lord and master, to 'prove my love for him;' then,
should I perish, I shall at any rate feel a martyr's consolation."