In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince

"Thou wilt have a home and a dowry, and a husband who has loved thee long and faithfully," added Sir Hugh, who felt that he might now adopt a more paternal tone, seeing he had not to combat foolish resistance. "Thou hast been a good daughter, Joan; doubtless thou wilt make a good wife too."

Still no reply, though a faint smile seemed to curve Joan's lips. She presently rose to her feet, and making a respectful reverence to her father – for daily embraces were not the order of the day – glided from the room as if to seek her couch.

"That is a thing well done!" breathed the knight, when he found himself once more alone, "and done easier than I had looked for. Well, well, it is a happy thing the wench has found her right senses. Methinks good Peter must have been setting his charms to work, for she never could be brought to listen to him of old. He has tamed her to some purpose now."

Meantime Joan had glided up the staircase of the hall, along several winding passages, and up and down several irregular flights of narrow steps, till she paused at the door of a room very dim within, but just lighted by the gleam of a dying fire. As she stepped across the threshold a voice out of the darkness accosted her.

"My ladybird, is it thou, and at such an hour? Tell me what has befallen thee."

"The thing that thou and I have talked of before now, Bridget," answered Joan, speaking rapidly in a strange low voice – "the thing that thou and I have planned a hundred times if the worst should befall us. It is tenfold more needful now than before. Bridget, I must quit this house at sunset tomorrow, and thou must have my disguise ready. I must to France, to find out there the truth of a tale I have this day heard. Nat will go with me – he has said so a hundred times; and I have long had money laid by for the day I ever knew might come. Thou knowest all. He is a man of the sea; I am his son. We have planned it too oft to be taken unawares by any sudden peril. Thus disguised, we may wander where we will, molested by none. Lose no time. Rise and go to Nat this very night. I myself must not be seen with him or with thee. I must conduct myself as though each day to come were like the one past. But thou knowest what to do. Thou wilt arrange all. God bless thee, my faithful Bridget; and when I come back again, thou shalt not lack thy reward!"

"I want none else but thy love, my heart's delight," said the old nurse, gathering the girl into her fond arms; and Joan hid her face for one moment upon that faithful breast and gave way to a short burst of weeping, which did much for her overcharged heart.

Then she silently stole away and went quietly to her own chamber.

CHAPTER XXVIII. GASTON'S SEARCH

"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.