Yolanda: Maid of Burgundy Part 23

After a little time Hymbercourt broke silence.

"I am grieved and deeply hurt, my lord, that you should want other evidence than mine against the witnesses who make this charge. I am a Burgundian. These witnesses are Italians who love Your Grace for the sake of the gold they get. I had hoped that my poor services had earned for me the right to be believed, but if I may have a little time, I will procure another man whose word shall be to you as the word of your father."

"Bring him into our presence," answered the duke. "We will see him to-morrow at this hour."

"May I not crave Your Grace's indulgence for a half-hour?" pleaded Hymbercourt. "I will have this man here within that time."

"Not another minute," replied the duke. "Heralds, cry the rising."

"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! His Grace, the Duke of Burgundy, is about to rise.

His Grace has risen," cried the herald.

The duke left the hall by a small door near the dais.

Hymbercourt was standing beside us when the captain of the guard approached to lead us back to our cells.

"May we not have comfortable quarters, and may we not be placed in one cell?" I asked, appealing to Hymbercourt. "I have been confined in a reeking, rayless dungeon unfit for swine, and doubtless Sir Max has been similarly outraged."

Hymbercourt put his hand into his pouch and drew forth two gold pieces.

These he stealthily placed in the captain's hand, and that worthy official said:--

"I shall be glad to oblige, my lord."

Hymbercourt left us, and Campo-Ba.s.so, beckoning the captain to one side, spoke to him in low tones. The captain, I was glad to see, was a Burgundian.

After we left the hall we were taken to our old quarters. The captain followed me into the cell, leaving his men in the pa.s.sageway.

"My Lord Count ordered me to bring you here," he said; "but I will, if I can, soon return with other men who are not Italians and will remove you to a place of safety."

"Am I not safe here? Is my friend in danger?" I asked.

The man smiled as though amused at my simplicity:--

"If you remain here to-night, there will be no need to hang you in the morning. Our Italian friends have methods of their own that are simple and sure. But I will try to find a way to remove you before--before the Italians have time to do their work. I will see my Lord d'Hymbercourt, and if the duke has not gone a-hunting, we will induce His Grace to order your removal to a place of safety."

"But if the duke is gone, cannot you get the order when he returns?" I asked.

"That will be too late, I fear," he answered, laughing, and with these comforting remarks he left me.

After two or three hours--the time seemed days--I heard a key enter the lock of my cell door. If the hand inserting the key was that of an Italian, I might look for death. To my great joy the man was my Burgundian captain.

"The duke had gone a-hunting," he said, "and I could not find my Lord d'Hymbercourt; but Her Highness, the princess, asked me to remove you, and I am willing to risk my neck for her sweet sake. I am to place you in one of the tower rooms, out of the reach of our Italian cut-throats."

"Will my young friend be with me?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes," responded the captain.

Again I met Max with a man-at-arms in the pa.s.sageway outside my cell door, and we all went up the steps together. We were hurried through dark pa.s.sages to a spiral stairway, which we climbed till my knees ached. But we were going up instead of down, and I was overjoyed to have the aching leave my heart for my knees.

The room in which the Burgundian left us was large and clean. There were two beds of sweet straw upon the floor, and to my unspeakable joy there was a bar on the door whereby it could be locked from within. There were also two tubs of water for a bath. On a rude bench was a complete change of clothing which had been brought by some kind hand from the inn. On an oak table were two bottles of wine, a bowl of honey, a cellar of pepper, white bread, cold meat, and pastry. A soul reaching heaven out of purgatory must feel as we felt then. We were too excited to eat, so we bathed, dressed, and lay down on the straw beds.

Before leaving us our captain had said:--

"Do not unbolt your door except to the pa.s.sword 'Burgundy.'"

We slept till late in the afternoon. When we wakened the sun was well down in the west, and we could see only its reflected glare in the eastern sky. There was but one opening in the room through which the light could enter--a narrow window, less than a foot wide. The light in the room was dim even at noon, but the long darkness had so affected our eyes that the light from the window was sufficient to illumine the apartment and to make all objects plainly discernible. There was little to be seen. The arched roof was of solid masonry; the walls were without a break save the narrow window and the door. Through the window we could see only a patch of sky in the east, reddened by the reflection of the sinking sun; but the sight was so beautiful that Max and I were loath to leave it even for supper.

"We must eat before the light dies," said Max, whose young stomach was more imperious than mine, "or we shall have to eat in the dark. I have had more than enough of that."

"Fall to," I said, as we drew the stools to the table. With the first mouthful of clean, delicious food my appet.i.te returned, and I ate ravenously. Had the repast been larger I believe we should have killed ourselves. Fortunately it was consumed before we were exhausted, and we came off alive and victorious. After supper darkness fell, and Max sat beside me on the bench. He was very happy, for he felt that our troubles would end with the night. I put my arm over his neck and begged him to forgive me for bringing this evil upon him.

"You shall not blame yourself, Karl," he protested. "There is no fault in you. No one is to blame save myself; I should not have gone to the bridge. I wonder what poor Yolanda is doing. Perhaps she is suffering in fear and is ignorant of our misfortune. Perhaps she thinks I have broken my promise and left Peronne. I can see her stamp her little foot, and I see her great eyes flas.h.i.+ng in anger. Each new humor in her seems more beautiful than the last, Karl. Knowing her, I seem to have known all mankind--at least, all womankind. She has wakened me to life. Her touch has unsealed my eyes, and the pain that I take from my love for her is like a foretaste of heaven. I believe that a man comes to his full strength, mental and moral, only through the elixir of pain."

"We surely have had our share of late," I said dolefully.

"All will soon be well with us, Karl; do not fear. We shall be free to-morrow, and I will kill this Calli. Then I'll go back to Styria a better, wiser, stronger man than I could ever have been had I remained at home. This last terrible experience has been the keystone of my regeneration. It has taught me to be merciful even to the guilty, and gentle with the accused. No man shall ever suffer at my command until he has been proved guilty. Doubtless thousands of innocent men as free from crime and evil intent as we, are wasting their lives away in dungeons as loathsome as those that imprisoned us."

"Calli will not fight you," I said.

"If he refuses, I will kill him at the steps of the throne of Burgundy, let the result be what it may. G.o.d will protect me in my just vengeance.

I will then go home; and I'll not return to Burgundy till I do so at the head of an army, to compel Duke Charles to behead Campo-Ba.s.so."

"What will you do about Yolanda, Max?" I asked.

The interference of the princess in our behalf had thrown more light on my important riddle, and once again I was convinced that she was Yolanda.

"I'll keep her in my heart till I die, Karl," he responded, "and I pray G.o.d to give her a happier life than mine can be. That is all I can do."

"Will you see her before you go?" I asked, fully intending that there should be no doubt on the question.

"Yes, and then--" He paused; and, after a little time, I asked:--

"And what then, Max?"

"G.o.d only knows what, Karl. I'm sure I don't," he answered.

We talked till late into the night, lay down on our soft, clean beds of straw, and were soon asleep.

I did not know how long I had been sleeping when I was wakened by a voice that seemed to fill the room, low, soft, and musical as the tones of an Aeolian harp. I groped my way noiselessly in the dark to Max's bed and aroused him. Placing my hand over his mouth to insure silence, I whispered:--

"Listen!"

He rested on his elbow, and we waited. After a few seconds the voice again resounded through the room, soft as a murmured ave, distinct as the notes of a bird. Max clutched my hand. Soon the voice came again, and we heard the words:--

"Little Max, do you hear? Answer softly."

"I hear," responded Max.