Agincourt Part 26

"That we will do most willingly," said Richard of Woodville, "to the best of our ability, good father. But you see we have a lady with us.

Now I have heard, that in some orders--"

"Ay, ay," replied the monk, laughing, "where the brotherhood are in sad doubt of their own virtue; but we are all grave and sober men, and fear not to see a fair sister amongst us--as a visitor, as a visitor, of course. It would be a want of Christian charity to send a fair lady from the gate, when she was in need of food and lodging. But come on, sir, if you will come; for we have still near a league to go, and 'tis well nigh the hour of supper, which this pious beast of mine knows right well. I had to drub him all the way to Aertrick, because he thought I had ought to be at vespers in the convent; and now he ambles me well nigh three leagues to the hour, because he knows that I ought to be back again. Oh, he has as much care of my conscience as a lady's father-director has of hers. Come, my son, if you be coming;" and therewith he put his a.s.s once more into a quick pace, and took the road to the right.

In little more than half an hour the whole party stood before the gates of a large heavy building, inclosed within high walls, situated at a short distance from the town of Thorout; and the good monk, leaving his new friends without, went in to speak with the prior in regard to their reception. No great difficulty seemed to be made; and the prior himself, a white bearded, fresh complexioned old man, with a watery blue eye, well set in fat, came out to the door to welcome them. His air was benevolent; and his look, though somewhat more joyous than was perhaps quite in harmony with his vows, was by no means so unusual in his cla.s.s as to call for any particular observation on the part of the young Englishman.

Far from displaying any scruples in regard to receiving Ella within those holy walls, he was the first to show himself busy, perhaps somewhat more than needful, in a.s.sisting her to dismount. It was evident that he was a great admirer of beauty in the other s.e.x; but there were other objects for which he had an extreme regard; and one of those, in the form of the supper of the monastery, was already being placed upon the table of the refectory; so that there was no other course for him to pursue than to hasten the whole party in, to partake of the meal, only pausing to ask Richard of Woodville, with a glance at the black robe of serge and the white wimple of Ella Brune, whether she was a sister of some English order?

Woodville simply replied that she was not, but merely a young maiden who was placed under his charge, to escort safely to Peronne, or perhaps Dijon, if she did not find her relations, who were attached to the Court of Burgundy, at the former place.

The good prior was satisfied for the time, and led the way on to the refectory, where about twenty brethren were a.s.sembled, waiting with as eager looks for the commencement of the meal as if they had been fasting for at least four-and-twenty hours. To judge, however, from the viands to which they soon sat down, no such abstinence was usually practised; and capons, and roe-deer, and wild-boar pork, were in as great plenty on the table of the refectory as in the hall of a high English baron. Some distinction of rank, too, was here observed;[5]

and the attendants of Richard of Woodville were left to sup with the servants of the convent, somewhat to their surprise and displeasure.

The monks in general seemed a cheerful and well-contented race, fond of good cheer and rich wine; and all but one or two seemed to vie with each other in showing very courteous attention to poor Ella Brune, in which course the prior himself, and the brother questor, who had been Woodville's guide thither, particularly distinguished themselves.

[Footnote 5: In many countries, the distinction of station, if not of birth, was very strictly enforced, especially at meals; and I think it is Meyrick who mentions the ordonnance of some foreign prince, by which no one was permitted, under the grade of chivalry, to sit at the table with a knight, unless he were a cross-bowman, the son of a knight.]

There was one saturnine man, indeed, seated somewhat far down the table, with his head bent over his platter, who seemed to take little share in the hilarity of the others. From time to time he gave a side-long look towards Ella; but it was evidently not one of love or admiration; and Richard of Woodville was easily led to imagine that the good brother was somewhat scandalized at the presence of a woman in the convent. He asked the questor, who sat next to him, however, in a low voice, who that silent brother was; and it needed no farther explanation to make the monk understand whom he meant.

"He is a Kill-joy," replied the questor, with a significant look; "but he is none of our own people, though one of the order, from the abbey at Liege. He departs soon, G.o.d be praised; for he has done nothing but censure us since he came hither. His abbot sent him away upon a visitation--to get rid of him, I believe; for he was unruly there, too, and declared that widgeons could not be eaten on even an ordinary fast-day without sin, though we all know the contrary."

"He is not orthodox in that, at least," answered Richard of Woodville, with a smile. "Doubtless he thinks it highly improper for a lady to have shelter here."

"For that very reason," said the questor, in the same low tone in which their conversation had been hitherto carried on, "the prior will have to lodge you in the visitor's lodging, which you saw just by the gate; for he fears the reports of brother Paul. Otherwise he would have put you in the sub-prior's rooms, he being absent. But see, now he has done himself, how brother Paul watches every mouthful that goes down the throats of others!" The questor sank his voice to a whisper, adding, in a solemn tone, "He drinks no wine--nothing but water wets his lips! Is not that a sin?--a disparaging of the gifts of G.o.d?"

"It is, certainly, not using them discreetly," answered Richard of Woodville; "and, methinks, in these low lands, a cup of generous wine, such as this is, must be even more necessary to a reverend monk, who spends half his time in prayer, than to a busy creature of the world, who has plenty of exercise to keep his blood flowing."

"To be sure it is!" replied the questor, who approved the doctrine highly; and thereupon he filled Woodville's can again, with a "Benedicite, n.o.ble sir."

When the meal was over, the young Englishman remarked, that this grim brother Paul, of whom they had been speaking, took advantage of the little interval which usually succeeds the pleasant occupation of eating, to draw the prior aside, and whisper to him for several minutes. The face of the latter betrayed impatience and displeasure, and he turned from him, with a somewhat mocking air, saying aloud, "You are mistaken, my brother, and not charitable, as you will soon see. Hark! there is the bell for complines. Do you attend the service, sir?"

The last words were addressed to Richard of Woodville, who bowed his head, and answered, "Gladly I will."

"Oh, yes!" cried Ella, with a joyful look; "I shall be so pleased, if I may find a place in the chapel. I have not had the opportunity of hearing any service since I left London."

"a.s.suredly, my daughter!" said the prior, with a gracious look; "the chapel is open to all. We have our own place; but every day we have the villagers and townsfolk to hear our chanting, which we are somewhat vain of. You shall be shown how to reach it with your friends."

The monks took their way to the chapel by a private door from the refectory; and Richard of Woodville, with Ella, was led by a lay brother of the monastery through the court. Two or three women and one old man were in the chapel, and the short evening service began and ended, the sweet voice of Ella Brune mingling sounds with the choir, which, well I wot, the place had not often heard before. At the close, Richard of Woodville moved towards the door; but Ella besought him to stay one moment, and, advancing to the shrine of Our Lady, knelt down and prayed devoutly, with her beads in her hand. Perhaps she might ask for a prosperous journey, and for deliverance from danger; or she might entreat support and guidance in an undertaking that occupied the dearest thoughts of an enthusiastic heart; nor will there be many found to blame her, even if the higher aspirations, the holier and purer impulses that separate the spirit from the earth and lead the soul to Heaven, were mingled with the mortal affections that cling around us to the end, so long as we are bondsmen of the clay.

While she yet prayed, and while the monks were wending away through their own particular entrance, the old prior advanced to Woodville, who was standing near the door, and remarked, "Our fair sister seems of a devout and Catholic spirit. These are bad days, and there are many that swerve from the true faith."

At these words a conviction, very near the truth, broke upon Woodville's mind, as he recollected what Ella had told him of the opinions of old Murdock Brune and of his relations in Liege, and combined her account with the whispering of brother Paul, a monk from that very city. It was a sudden flash of perception, rather than the light of cold consideration; and he replied, without a moment's pause, "She is, indeed, a sincere and pious child of the Holy Roman Catholic Church; and she has been much tried, as you would soon perceive, reverend sir, if you knew all; for she has relations who have long since abandoned the faith of their fathers, and would fain have persuaded her to adopt their own vain and heretical opinions; but she has been firm and constant, even to her own injury in their esteem, poor maiden!"

"Ay, I thought so, I thought so!" replied the fat prior, rubbing his fat white hands. "See how she prays to the Blessed Virgin; and the Queen of Heaven will hear her prayers. She always has especial grace for those who kneel at that altar. Good night, brother;--good night!

The questor and the refectioner will show you your lodging, and give you the sleeping cup. To-morrow I will see you ere you depart. G.o.d's blessing upon you, daughter," he added, as Ella approached. "I must away, for that father Paul has us all up to matins."

Thus saying, the old monk retired; and in the court Woodville found his friend the questor and another brother, who led him and his attendants to what was called the visitor's lodging, where, with a more comfortable bed than the night before, he slept soundly, only waking for a few moments as the matin bell rang, and then dropping asleep again, to waken shortly after daylight and prepare for his journey onward.

When he came to depart, however, there was one drawback to the remembrance of the pleasant evening he had pa.s.sed in the monastery. A stout mule was saddled in the court, and the prior besought him, in courteous terms, to give the advantage of his escort to father Paul, who was about to set out likewise for Ghent. Richard of Woodville could not well refuse, though not particularly pleased, and placing a liberal return for his entertainment in the box of the convent, he began his journey, resolved to make the best of a companions.h.i.+p which he could not avoid.

CHAPTER XX.

THE NEW ACQUAINTANCES.

All was bustle in the good old town of Ghent, as Richard of Woodville and his train rode in. It was at all times a gay and busy place; and even now, when much of its commerce has pa.s.sed away from it, what a cheerful and lively scene does its market-place present on a summer's day, with the tall houses rising round, and breaking the line of the suns.h.i.+ne into fantastic forms, and the innumerable groups of men and women standing to gossip or to traffic, or moving about in many-coloured raiment! On that day, however, military display was added to the usual gaiety of the scene, and to the ordinary munic.i.p.al pageants of the time. Hors.e.m.e.n in arms were riding through the streets, lances were seen here and there, and pennons fluttered on the wind, while every now and then attendants in gay dresses, with the arms of Burgundy embroidered upon breast and back, pa.s.sed along with busy looks and an important air.

The young Englishman took his way under the direction of brother Paul--who had shown himself upon the journey more courteous and conversable than had been expected--towards the princ.i.p.al hostelry of the place; and Ghent at that time possessed many; but he was twice forced to stop in his advance by the crowds, who seemed to take little notice of him and his train, so fully occupied were they with some other event of the day. The first interruption was caused by a long train of priests and monks going to some church, with all the splendid array of the Roman Catholic clergy, followed by an immense mult.i.tude of idle gazers; and hardly had they pa.s.sed, when the procession of the trades, walking on foot, with banners displayed, and guards in armour, and ensigns of the different companies, crossed the path of the travellers, causing them to halt for a full quarter of an hour, while the long line moved slowly on.

"Is this any day of peculiar festival, brother Paul?" demanded Richard of Woodville; "the good citizens of Ghent seem in holiday."

"None that I know of," replied the monk; "but I will ask;" and, pus.h.i.+ng on his mule to the side of one of the more respectable artisans, he inquired the cause of the procession of the trades.

"They are going to compliment the Count de Charolois," answered the man, "and to ask his recognition of their charters and privileges. He arrived only this morning."

"That is fortunate, Ella," said Woodville, as soon as he was informed of this reply; "both for you and for me. Your father's cousin will, most likely, be with him; and I seek the Count myself."

Brother Paul seemed to listen attentively to what his companions said; but he made no remark; and as soon as the procession had pa.s.sed, they rode on, and were soon housed comfortably for the night. The monk left them at the inn door, thanking the young English gentleman for his escort, and retired to the abbey of St. Bavon.

The hour of the day was somewhat late for Richard of Woodville to present himself before the Count de Charolois, and he also judged that it might be more prudent to visit in the first place the agent of the King of England--the well-known diplomatist of that day, Sir Philip Morgan, or de Morgan--if it should chance that he had accompanied the Count to Ghent. That he had done so, indeed, seemed by no means improbable, as Woodville had learned since his arrival in Flanders, that the Duke of Burgundy himself was absent in the French capital, and that the chief rule of his Flemish territory was entrusted to his son. The host of the inn, however, could tell him nothing about the matter; all he knew was, that the Count had arrived that morning unexpectedly, accompanied by a large train, and that instead of taking up his abode in the Cour des Princes, which had of late years become the residence of the Counts of Flanders, he had gone to what was called the Vieux Bourg, or old castle, of the Flemish princes. He offered to send a man to inquire if a person bearing the hard name which his English guest had p.r.o.nounced, was with the Count's company; and Richard of Woodville had just got through the arrangements of a first arrival, and was taking a hasty meal, when the messenger returned, saying that Sir Philip de Morgan was with the Count, and was lodged in the left gate tower entering from the court.

"I will go to him at once, Ella," he said; "and before my return you had better bethink you of what course you will pursue, in case your kinsman should not be with the Count. I will leave you for the present under the charge of Ned Dyram here, who will see that no harm happens to you in this strange town."

"Oh! it is not strange to me," replied Ella Brune. "We once staid here for a month, n.o.ble sir; and, as to bethinking me of what I shall do, I have bethought me already, but will not stay you to speak about it now."

Thus saying, she suffered him to depart, without giving him any charge to inquire after her kinsman, being somewhat more than indifferent, to say the truth, as to whether Richard of Woodville found him or not.

When the young gentleman had departed, and the meal was concluded, Ned Dyram, though he had taken care to show no great pleasure at the task which his master had given him to execute, besought his fair companion to walk forth with him into the town, and urged her still, notwithstanding the plea of weariness which she offered for retiring to her own chamber.

"I wish to purchase some goods," he said; "and shall never make myself understood, fair Ella, unless I have you with me."

"Oh! every one in this town speaks French," replied Ella Brune; "for since the country fell to one of the royal family of France, that tongue has become the fas.h.i.+on amongst the n.o.bles; and the traders are obliged to learn it, to speak with them."

"But I must not go out and leave you," replied Ned Dyram, "after the charge my young lord has laid upon me;" and as he still pressed her to accompany him, Ella, who felt that she owed him some grat.i.tude for having forwarded her schemes so far, at length consented; and they issued forth together into the streets of Ghent.

As soon as they were free from the presence of the other attendants of Richard of Woodville, the manner of her companion towards Ella became very different. There was a tenderness in his tones, and in his words, an expression of admiration in his countenance, which he had carefully avoided displaying before others; and the poor girl felt somewhat grieved and annoyed, although, as there was nothing coa.r.s.e or familiar in his demeanour, she felt that she had no right to be displeased.

"The lowliest may love the highest," she thought; "and in station he is better than I am. Why, then, should I feel angry?--And yet I wish this had not been; it may mar all my plans. How can I check it? and if I do, may he not divine all the rest, and, in his anger, do what he can to thwart me?--I will treat it lightly. Heaven pardon me, if I dissemble!"

"What are you thinking of so deeply, fair maiden?" asked Ned Dyram, marking the reverie into which she had fallen. "You do not seem to listen to what I say."

"As much as it is worth, Master Dyram," replied Ella, in a gay tone; "but I must check you; you are too rapid in your sweet speeches. Do you not know, that he who would become a true servant to a lady, must have long patience, and go discreetly to work? Oh! I am not to be won more easily than my betters! Poor as I am, I am as proud as any lady of high degree, and will have slow courts.h.i.+p and humble suit before I am won."