The Line of Love Part 5

Then with his company d'Andreghen rode to Arques. A herald declared to the men of that place how the matter stood, and bade Hugues come forth and dance upon nothing. The Sieur d'Arques spat curses, like a cat driven into a corner, and wished to fight, but the greater part of his garrison were not willing to do so in such a cause: and so d'Andreghen took him and carried him off.

In anger having sworn by the Blood of Christ to hang Hugues d'Arques to a certain tree, d'Andreghen had no choice in calm but to abide by his oath.

This day being the Sabbath, he deferred the matter; but the Marshal promised to see to it that when morning broke the Sieur d'Arques should dangle side by side with his messenger.

Thus far the Vicomte de Puysange. He concluded his narrative with a dry chuckle. "And I think we are very well rid of him, Adhelmar. Holy Maclou!

that I should have taken the traitor for a true man, though! He would sell France, you observe,--chaffered, they tell me, like a pedlar over the price of Normandy. Heh, the huckster, the triple-d.a.m.ned Jew!"

"And Melite?" asked Adhelmar, after a little.

Again Reinault shrugged. "In the White Turret," he said; then, with a short laugh: "Oy Dieus, yes! The girl has been caterwauling for this shabby rogue all day. She would have me--me, the King's man, look you!--save Hugues at the peril of my seignory! And I protest to you, by the most high and pious Saint Nicolas the Confessor," Reinault swore, "that sooner than see this huckster go unpunished, I would lock h.e.l.l's gate on him with my own hands!"

For a moment Adhelmar stood with his jaws puffed out, as if in thought, and then he laughed like a wolf. Afterward he went to the White Turret, leaving Reinault smiling over his wine.

4. _Folly Diversely Attested_

He found Melite alone. She had robed herself in black, and had gathered her gold hair about her face like a heavy veil, and sat weeping into it for the plight of Hugues d'Arques.

"Melite!" cried Adhelmar; "Melite!" The Demoiselle de Puysange rose with a start, and, seeing him standing in the doorway, ran to him, incompetent little hands fluttering before her like frightened doves. She was very tired, by that day-long arguing with her brother's notions about honor and knightly faith and such foolish matters, and to her weariness Adhelmar seemed strength incarnate; surely he, if any one, could aid Hugues and bring him safe out of the grim marshal's claws. For the moment, perhaps, she had forgotten the feud which existed between Adhelmar and the Sieur d'Arques; but in any event, I am convinced, she knew that Adhelmar could refuse her nothing. So she ran toward him, her cheeks flus.h.i.+ng arbutus-like, and she was smiling through her tears.

Oh, thought Adhelmar, were it not very easy to leave Hugues to the dog's death he merits and to take this woman for my own? For I know that she loves me a little. And thinking of this, he kissed her, quietly, as one might comfort a sobbing child; afterward he held her in his arms for a moment, wondering vaguely at the pliant thickness of her hair and the sweet scent of it. Then he put her from him gently, and swore in his soul that Hugues must die, so that this woman might be Adhelmar's.

"You will save him?" Melite asked, and raised her face to his. There was that in her eyes which caused Adhelmar to muse for a little on the nature of women's love, and, subsequently, to laugh harshly and make vehement utterance.

"Yes!" said Adhelmar.

He demanded how many of Hugues' men were about. Some twenty of them had come to Puysange, Melite said, in the hope that Reinault might aid them to save their master. She protested that her brother was a coward for not doing so; but Adhelmar, having his own opinion on this subject, and thinking in his heart that Hugues' skin might easily be ripped off him without spilling a pint of honest blood, said, simply: "Twenty and twenty is two-score. It is not a large armament, but it may serve."

He told her his plan was to fall suddenly upon d'Andreghen and his men that night, and in the tumult to steal Hugues away; whereafter, as Adhelmar pointed out, Hugues might readily take s.h.i.+p for England, and leave the marshal to blaspheme Fortune in Normandy, and the French King to gnaw at his chains in Bordeaux, while Hugues toasts his s.h.i.+ns in comfort at London. Adhelmar admitted that the plan was a mad one, but added, reasonably enough, that needs must when the devil drives. And so firm was his confidence, so cheery his laugh--he managed to laugh somehow, though it was a stiff piece of work,--that Melite began to be comforted somewhat, and bade him go and G.o.dspeed.

So then Adhelmar left her. In the main hall he found the vicomte still sitting over his wine of Anjou.

"Cousin," said Adhelmar, "I must ride hence to-night."

Reinault stared at him: a mastering wonder woke in Reinault's face.

"Ta, ta, ta!" he clicked his tongue, very softly. Afterward he sprang to his feet and clutched Adhelmar by both arms. "No, no!" Reinault cried. "No, Adhelmar, you must not try that! It is death, lad,--sure death! It means hanging, boy!" the vicomte pleaded, for, hard man that he was, he loved Adhelmar.

"That is likely enough," Adhelmar conceded.

"They will hang you,"' Reinault said again: "d'Andreghen and the Count Dauphin of Vienna will hang you as blithely as they would Iscariot."

"That, too," said Adhelmar, "is likely enough, if I remain in France."

"Oy Dieus! will you flee to England, then?" the vicomte scoffed, bitterly. "Has King Edward not sworn to hang you these eight years past?

Was it not you, then, cousin, who took Almerigo di Pavia, that Lombard knave whom he made governor of Calais,--was it not you, then, who delivered Edward's loved Almerigo to Geoffrey de Chargny, who had him broken on the wheel? Eh, holy Maclou! but you will get hearty welcome and a chaplain and a rope in England."

Adhelmar admitted that this was true. "Still," said he, "I must ride hence to-night."

"For her?" Reinault asked, and jerked his thumb upward.

"Yes," said Adhelmar,--"for her."

Reinault stared in his face for a while. "You are a fool, Adhelmar," said he, at last, "but you are a brave man, and you love as becomes a chevalier. It is a great pity that a flibbertigibbet wench with a tow-head should be the death of you. For my part, I am the King's va.s.sal; I shall not break faith with him; but you are my guest and my kinsman.

For that reason I am going to bed, and I shall sleep very soundly. It is likely I shall hear nothing of the night's doings,--ohime, no! not if you murder d'Andreghen in the court-yard!" Reinault ended, and smiled, somewhat sadly.

Afterward he took Adhelmar's hand and said: "Farewell, lord Adhelmar! O true knight, st.u.r.dy and bold! terrible and merciless toward your enemies, gentle and simple toward your friends, farewell!"

He kissed Adhelmar on either cheek and left him. In those days men encountered death with very little ado.

Then Adhelmar rode off in the rain with thirty-four armed followers.

Riding thus, he reflected upon the nature of women and upon his love for the Demoiselle de Puysange; and, to himself, he swore gloomily that if she had a mind to Hugues she must have Hugues, come what might.

Having reached this conclusion, Adhelmar wheeled upon his men, and cursed them for tavern-idlers and laggards and flea-hearted snails, and bade them spur.

Melite, at her window, heard them depart, and heard the noise of their going lapse into the bland monotony of the rain's noise. This dank night now divulged no more, and she turned back into the room. Adhelmar's glove, which he had forgotten in his haste, lay upon the floor, and Melite lifted it and twisted it idly.

"I wonder--?" said she.

She lighted four wax candles and set them before a mirror that was in the room. Melite stood among them and looked into the mirror. She seemed very tall and very slender, and her loosened hair hung heavily about her beautiful shallow face and fell like a cloak around her black-robed body, showing against the black gown like melting gold; and about her were the tall, white candles tipped with still flames of gold. Melite laughed--her laughter was high and delicate, with the resonance of thin gla.s.s,--and raised her arms above her, head, stretching tensely like a cat before a fire, and laughed yet again.

"After all," said she, "I do not wonder."

Melite sat before the mirror, and braided her hair, and sang to herself in a sweet, low voice, brooding with unfathomable eyes upon her image in the gla.s.s, while the October rain beat about Puysange, and Adhelmar rode forth to save Hugues that must else be hanged.

Sang Melite:

"_Rustling leaves of the willow-tree Peering downward at you and me, And no man else in the world to see,

"Only the birds, whose dusty coats Show dark in the green,--whose throbbing throats Turn joy to music and love to notes_.

"Lean your body against the tree, Lifting your red lips up to me, Melite, and kiss, with no man to see!

"And let us laugh for a little:--Yea, Let love and laughter herald the day When laughter and love will be put away.

"Then you will remember the willow-tree And this very hour, and remember me, Melite,--whose face you will no more see!

"So swift, so swift the glad time goes, And Eld and Death with their countless woes Draw near, and the end thereof no man knows,

"Lean your body against the tree, Lifting your red lips up to me, Melite, and kiss, with no man to see!"_

Melite smiled as she sang; for this was a song that Adhelmar had made for her upon a May morning at Nointel, before he was a knight, when both were very young. So now she smiled to remember the making of the verses which she sang while the October rain was beating about Puysange.

5. _Night-work_

It was not long before they came upon d'Andreghen and his men camped about a great oak, with One-eyed Peire a-swing over their heads for a lamentable banner. A shrill sentinel, somewhere in the dark, demanded the newcomers' business, but without receiving any adequate answer, for at that moment Adhelmar gave the word to charge.

Then it was as if all the devils in Pandemonium had chosen Normandy for their playground; and what took place in the night no man saw for the darkness, so that I cannot tell you of it. Let it suffice that Adhelmar rode away before d'Andreghen had rubbed sleep well out of his eyes; and with Adhelmar were Hugues d'Arques and some half of Adhelmar's men. The rest were dead, and Adhelmar was badly hurt, for he had burst open his old wound and it was bleeding under his armor. Of this he said nothing.

"Hugues," said he, "do you and these fellows ride to the coast; thence take s.h.i.+p for England."