THE PRINCESS BERENGARIA.
One night it chanced that Cuthbert was late in his return to camp, and
his road took him through a portion of the French encampment; the night
was dark, and Cuthbert presently completely lost all idea as to his
bearings. Presently he nearly ran against a tent; he made his way to the
entrance in order to crave directions as to his way--for it was a wet
night; the rain was pouring in torrents, and few were about of whom he
could demand the way--and, as he was about to draw aside the hangings,
he heard words said in a passionate voice which caused him to withdraw
his hand suddenly.
"I tell you," said a voice, "I would rather drive a dagger myself into
her heart than allow our own princess to be insulted by this hot-headed
island dog."
"It is sad indeed," said another, but in a calmer smoother tone, "that
the success of a great expedition like this, which has for its object
the recovery of the holy sepulcher from the infidels, should be wrecked
by the headstrong fancies of one man. It is even, as is told by the old
Grecian poet, as when Helen caused a great war between people of that
nation."
"I know nothing," another voice said, "either of Helen or the Greeks, or
of their poets. They are a shifty race, and I can believe aught that is
bad of them. But touching this princess of Navarre, I agree with our
friend, it would be a righteous deed to poniard her, and so to remove
the cause of dispute between the two kings, and, indeed, the two
nations. This insult laid upon our princess is more than we, as French
knights and gentlemen, can brook; and if the king says the word there is
not a gentleman in the army but will be ready to turn his sword against
the islanders."
Then the smooth voice spoke again.
"It would, my brethren, be wrong and useless to shed blood; but methinks
that if this apple of discord could be removed a good work would be done
not, as our friend the count has suggested, by a stab of the dagger;
that indeed would be worse than useless. But surely there are scores of
religious houses, where this bird might be placed in a cage without a
soul knowing where she was, and where she might pass her life in prayer
that she may be pardoned for having caused grave hazards of the failure
of an enterprise in which all the Christian world is concerned."
The voices of the speakers now fell, and Cuthbert was straining his ear
to listen, when he heard footsteps approaching the tent, and he glided
away into the darkness.
With great difficulty be recovered the road to the camp, and when he
reached his tent he confided to the Earl of Evesham what he had heard.
"This is serious indeed," the earl said, "and bodes no little trouble
and danger. It is true that the passion which King Richard has conceived
for Berengaria bids fair to wreck the Crusade, by the anger which it has
excited in the French king and his nobles; but the disappearance of the
princess would no less fatally interfere with it, for the king would be
like a raging lion deprived of his whelps, and would certainly move no
foot eastward until he had exhausted all the means in his power of
tracing his lost lady love. You could not, I suppose, Cuthbert, point
out the tent where this conversation took place?"
"I could not," Cuthbert answered; "in the darkness one tent is like
another. I think I should recognize the voices of the speakers did I
hear them again; indeed, one voice I did recognize; it was that of the
Count of Brabant, with whom we had trouble before."
"That is good," the earl said, "because we have at least an object to
watch. It would never do to tell the king what you have heard. In the
first place, his anger would be so great that it would burst all bounds,
and would cause, likely enough, a battle at once between the two armies;
nor would it have any good effect, for he of Brabant would of course
deny the truth of your assertions, and would declare it was merely a
got-up story to discredit him with the king, and so to wipe out the old
score now standing between us. No, if we are to succeed, alike in
preventing harm happening to the princess, and an open break between the
two monarchs, it must be done by keeping a guard over the princess,
unsuspected by all, and ourselves frustrating any attempt which may be
made."
Cuthbert expressed his willingness to carry out the instructions which
the earl might give him; and, much disturbed by the events of the day,
both earl and page retired to rest, to think over what plan had best be
adopted.
The princess was staying at the palace of the bishop of the town; this
he, having another residence a short distance outside the walls, had
placed at the disposal of the Queen of Navarre and her suite; and the
first step of Cuthbert in the morning was to go into the town, to
reconnoiter the position and appearance of the building. It was a large
and irregular pile, and communicated with the two monasteries lying
alongside of it. It would therefore clearly be a most difficult thing to
keep up a complete watch on the exterior of so large a building. There
were so many ways in which the princess might be captured and carried
off by unscrupulous men that Cuthbert in vain thought over every plan by
which it could be possible to safeguard her. She might be seized upon
returning from a tournament or entertainment; but this was improbable,
as the queen would always have an escort of knights with her, and no
attempt could be successful except at the cost of a public fracas and
much loss of blood. Cuthbert regarded as out of the question that an
outrage of this kind would be attempted.
The fact that one of the speakers in the tent had used the words "my
sons," showed that one priest or monk, at least, was connected with the
plot. It was possible that this man might have power in one of the
monasteries, or he might be an agent of the bishop himself; and Cuthbert
saw that it would be easy enough in the night for a party from one or
other of the monasteries to enter by the door of communication with the
palace, and carry off the princess without the slightest alarm being
given. Once within the walls of the convent she could be either hidden
in the dungeons or secret places, which buildings of that kind were sure
to possess, or could be at once carried out by some quiet entrance, and
taken into the country, or transferred to some other building in the
town.
When Cuthbert joined the earl he told him the observations that he had
made, and Sir Walter praised the judgment which he had shown in his
conclusions. The earl was of opinion that it would be absolutely
necessary to get some clew as to the course which the abductors purposed
to take; indeed it was possible that on after-consideration they might
drop their plan altogether, for the words which Cuthbert had overheard
scarcely betokened a plan completely formed and finally decided upon.
The great point he considered, therefore, was that the tent of his old
enemy should be carefully watched, and that an endeavor should be made
to hear something of what passed within, which might give a clew to the
plan fixed upon. They did not, of course, know whether the tent in which
the conversation had been heard by Cuthbert was that of Sir de Jacquelin
Barras, or of one of the other persons who had spoken; and Cuthbert
suggested that the first thing would be to find out whether the count,
after nightfall, was in the habit of going to some other tent, or
whether, on the other hand, he remained within and was visited by
others.
It was easy, of course, to discover which was his tent; and Cuthbert
soon got its position, and then took Cnut into his counsels.
"The matter is difficult," Cnut said, "and I see no way by which a watch
can be kept up by day; but after dark--I have several men in my band who
can track a deer, and surely could manage to follow the steps of this
baron without being observed. There is little Jack, who is no bigger
than a boy of twelve, although he can shoot, and run, and play with the
quarterstaff, or, if need be, with the bill, against the best man in the
troop. I warrant me that if you show him the tent he will keep such
sharp watch that no one shall enter or depart without his knowing where
they go to. On a dark night he will be able to slip among the tents, and
to move here and there without being seen. He can creep on his stomach
without moving a leaf, and trust me the eyes of these French
men-at-arms will look in vain for a glimpse of him."
"You understand, Cnut, all that I want to know is whether the other
conspirators in this matter visit his tent, or whether he goes to
theirs."
"I understand," Cnut said. "That is the first point to be arrived at."
Three days later Cnut brought news that each night after dark a party of
five men met in the tent that was watched; that one of the five always
came out when all had assembled, and took his station before the
entrance of the tent, so as to be sure that no eavesdropper was near.
Cuthbert smiled.
"It is a case of locking the door after the horse has gone."
"What is to be done now?" Cnut asked.
"I will talk with the earl before I tell you, Cnut. This matter is too
serious for me to take a step without consulting Sir Walter."
That night there was a long talk between the earl and his page as to the
best course to be pursued. It was clear that their old enemy was the
leading person in the plot, and that the only plan to baffle it with any
fair chances of success was to keep a constant eye upon his movements,
and also to have three or four of the sturdiest men of the band told off
to watch, without being perceived, each time that the princess was in
her palace.
The Earl of Evesham left the arrangements entirely in the hands of his
page, of whose good sense and sagacity he had a very high opinion.
His own first impulse had been to go before the king and denounce the
Count of Brabant. But the ill-will between them was already well known;
for not only was there the original dispute at the banquet, but when the
two armies had joined at Sicily, King Richard, who had heard from the
earl of the attempt at the assassination of Cuthbert, had laid a
complaint before King Philip of the conduct of his subject.
Sir de Jacquelin Barras, however, had denied that he had any finger in
the matter.
"He had," he said, "discharged his page after the encounter with
Cuthbert, and knew nothing further whatever of his movements."
Although it was morally certain that the page could not have purchased
the services of the men who assisted him, from his own purse, or gain
them by any means of persuasion, but that they were either the followers
of the Count of Brabant, or ruffians hired with his money, as no proof
could be obtained the matter was allowed to drop.
The earl felt, however, that an accusation against the count by him of
an intention to commit a high crime, and this merely on the evidence of
his page, would appear like an attempt to injure the fame of his rival.
Feeling, therefore, that nothing could be done save to watch, he left
the matter entirely in the hands of his page, telling him that he could
take as many men-at-arms or archers as he might choose and use them in
his name.
Cnut entered warmly into Cuthbert's plans; and finally it was arranged
between them that six of the archers should nightly keep watch opposite
the various entrances of the bishop's palace and of the two monasteries
joining. Of course, they could not patrol up and down without attracting
attention, but they were to take up posts where they could closely
observe the entrances, and were either to lie down and feign drunken
sleep, or to conceal themselves within the shadow of an arch or other
hiding-place.
Down on the seashore Cuthbert made an arrangement with one of the owners
of small craft lying there that ten of his men should sleep on board
every night, together with some fishermen accustomed to the use of the
oar.
Cuthbert himself determined to be always with this party.
Night after night passed, and so long a time went by that Cuthbert began
to think the design must have been given up.
However, he resolved to relax none of his watchfulness during the
remaining time that the expedition might stop in Sicily.
It was in January, three weeks after the first watch had been set, when
one of the men who had been placed to watch the entrance to one of the
monasteries leaped on board the craft and shook Cuthbert by the
shoulder.
"A party of some five men," he said, "have just issued out from the
monastery. They are bearing a burden--what, I cannot see. They were
making in the direction of the water. I whistled to Dion who was next to
me in the lane. He is following them, and I came on to tell you to
prepare."
The night was pitch-dark, and it was difficult in the extreme to see any
one moving at a short distance off.
There were two or three streets that led from the monastery, which stood
at the top of the town, toward the sea; and a party coming down might
take any of these, according to the position in which the boat they were
seeking was placed.
Cuthbert now instantly sent five or six of his men with instructions to
avoid all noise, along the line of the port, with orders to bring in
word should anyone come down and take boat, or should they hear any
noise in the town. He himself with the sailors loosed the ropes which
fastened the boat to shore, got out the oars, and prepared to put off at
a moment's notice.
He was of course ignorant whether the abductor would try to carry the
princess off by water, or would hide her in one of the convents of the
town; but he was inclined to think that the former would be the course
adopted; for the king in his wrath would be ready to lay the town in
flames, and to search every convent from top to bottom for the princess.
Besides, there would be too many aware of the secret.
Cuthbert was not wrong in his supposition.
Soon the man he had sent to the extreme right came running up with the
news that a boat had embarked at the further end with a party of some
ten men on board. As he came along he had warned the others, and in five
minutes the whole party were collected in the craft, numbering in all
twelve of Cuthbert's men and six sailors. They instantly put out, and
rowed in the direction in which the boat would have gone, the boatmen
expressing their opinion that probably the party would make for a vessel
which was lying anchored at some little distance from shore. The
bearings of the position of this ship was known to the boatmen, but the
night was so dark that they were quite unable to find it. Orders had
been given that no sound or whisper was to be heard on board the boat;
and after rowing as far as they could the boatmen said they were in the
direction of the ship.
The boatmen all lay on their oars, and all listened intently. Presently
the creaking of a pulley was heard in the still night, at a distance of
a few hundred yards. This was enough. It was clear that the vessel was
getting up sail. The boat's head was turned in that direction; the crew
rowed steadily but noiselessly, and in a few minutes the tall mast of a
vessel could be seen faintly against the sky. Just as they perceived the
situation, a hail from on board showed that their approach was now
observed.
"Stretch to your oars," Cuthbert said, "we must make a dash for it now."
The rowers bent to their work and in a minute the boat ran alongside the
craft.
As Cuthbert and his followers scrambled upon the deck they were attacked
by those of the crew and passengers who were standing near; but it was
evident at once that the chiefs of the expedition had not heard the
hail, and that there was no general plan of defense against them.
It was not until the last of them had gained a footing and were
beginning to fight their way along the vessel that from below three or
four men-at-arms ran up, and one in a tone of authority demanded what
was the matter. When he heard the clash of swords and the shouts of the
combatants he put himself at once at the head of the party and a fierce
and obstinate fight now took place.
The assailants had, however, the advantage.
Cuthbert and his men were all lightly clad, and this on the deck of a
ship lumbered with ropes and gear, and in the dark, was a great
advantage, for the mailed men-at-arms frequently stumbled and fell. The
fight lasted for several minutes. Cnut, who was armed with a heavy mace,
did great service, for with each of his sweeping blows he broke down the
guard of an opponent, and generally leveled him to the deck.
The numbers at the beginning of the fight were not unequal, but the men
to whom the vessel belonged made but a faint resistance when they
perceived that the day was going against them. The men-at-arms, however,
consisting of three, who appeared to be the leaders, and of eight
pikemen fought stubbornly and well.
Cuthbert was not long in detecting in the tones of the man who was
clearly at the head of affairs the voice of Sir de Jacquelin Barras. To
do him justice he fought with extreme bravery, and when almost all his
followers were cut down or beaten overboard, he resisted stanchly and
well. With a heavy two-handed sword he cleaved a space at the end of the
boat, and kept the whole of Cuthbert's party at bay.
At last Cnut, who had been engaged elsewhere, came to the front, and a
tough fight ensued between them.
It might have ended badly for the brave forester, for his lack of armor
gave an enormous advantage to his opponent. Soon, however, the count's
foot slipped on the boards of the deck, and before he could recover
himself the mace of Cnut descended with tremendous force upon his head,
which was unprotected, as he had taken off his casque on arriving at the
ship. Without a word or a cry the count fell forward on the deck, killed
as a bullock by a blow of a poleax.
While this conflict had been going on, occasionally the loud screams of
a woman had been heard below.
Cuthbert, attended by Cnut and two of his followers, now descended.
At the bottom of the steps they found a man-at-arms placed at the door
of a cabin. He challenged as they approached, but being speedily
convinced that the vessel was in their hands, and that his employer and
party were all conquered, he made a virtue of necessity, and laid down
his arms.
"You had better go in alone," Cnut said, "Master Cuthbert. The lady is
less likely to be frightened by your appearance than by us, for she must
wonder indeed what is going on."
On entering the cabin, which had evidently been fitted up for the use of
a lady, Cuthbert saw standing at the other end the princess, whom of
course he knew well by sight. A lamp was burning in the cabin, and by
its light he could see that her face was deadly pale. Her robes were
torn and disarranged, and she wore a look at once of grave alarm and
surprise upon seeing a handsomely dressed page enter with a deep
reverence.
"What means this outrage, young sir? Whoever you be, I warn you that the
King of England will revenge this indignity."
"Your highness," Cuthbert said, "you have no further reason for alarm;
the knaves who carried you off from the bishop's palace and conveyed you
to this ship are all either killed or in our power. I am the page of the
Earl of Evesham, a devoted follower of King Richard. Some of the designs
of the bold men came to the ears of my lord, and he ordered me and a
band of his followers to keep good guard over the palace and buildings
adjoining. We were unable to gather our strength in time to prevent your
being taken on board, but we lost no time in putting forth when we found
that your abductors had taken boat, and by good fortune arrived here in
time; a few minutes later, and the knaves would have succeeded in their
object, for the sails were already being hoisted, and the vessel making
way, when we arrived. Your abductors are all either killed or thrown
overboard, and the vessel's head is now turned toward the shore, and I
hope in a few minutes to have the honor of escorting you to the palace."
The princess, with a sigh of much satisfaction and relief, sank on to a
couch.
"I am indeed indebted to you, young sir," she said. "Believe me, the
Princess Berengaria is not ungrateful, and should it be ever in her
power to do aught for your lord, or for yourself, or for those who have
accompanied you to rescue her, believe me that she will do it."
"May I be so bold as to ask a boon?" Cuthbert said, dropping on one knee
before her.
"It is granted at once, whatever it be, if in my power."
"My boon is, lady," he said, "that you will do your best to assuage the
natural anger which the King of England will feel at this bold and most
violent attempt. That he should be told, is of course necessary; but,
lady, much depends upon the telling, and I am sure that at your request
the king would restrain his anger. Were it not for that, I fear that
such quarrels and disputes might arise as would bring the two armies to
blows, and destroy forever all hope of the successful termination of
our joint enterprise."
"You are a wise and good youth," the princess said, holding out her hand
to Cuthbert, which, as duty bound, he placed to his lips. "Your request
is wise and most thoughtful. I will use any poor influence which I may
possess"--and Cuthbert could see that the blood came back now to the
white face--"to induce King Richard to allow the matter to pass over.
There is no reason why he should take up the case. I am no more under
his protection than under that of the King of France, and it is to the
latter I should appeal, for as I believe the men who abducted me were
his subjects."
"The leader of them, madam, was a certain Sir de Jacquelin Barras, a
Count of Brabant, with whom my master has had an old feud, and who has
been just killed by the leader of our men-at-arms. The others, who have
had the most active hand in the matter, have also perished; and it
would, I think be doubtful whether any clew could be obtained of those
who were in league with them. The only man in the party who is alive was
placed as a sentry at your door, and as he is but a man-at-arms we may
be sure that he knows naught of the enterprise, but has merely carried
out the orders of his master."
The vessel had by this time brought up close to the port. The princess
determined to wait on board until the first dawn was seen in the skies,
and then under the escort of her deliverers to go back to the palace,
before the town was moving. This plan was carried out, and soon after
dawn the princess was safe in the palace from which she had been carried
a few hours previously.