Thus they came to Manneville and, skirting the town, came to FomorBeach, a narrow sandy coast. It was dark in this place and very stillsave for the encroachment of the tide. Yonder were four little lights,lazily heaving with the water's motion, to show them where the_Tranchemer_ lay at anchor. It did not seem to Perion that anythingmattered.
"It will be nearing dawn by this," he said.
"Ay," Ayrart de Montors said, very briefly; and his tone evinced hiswillingness to dispense with further conversation. Perion of the Forestwas an unclean thing which the bishop must touch in his necessity, butcould touch with loathing only, as a thirsty man takes a fly out of hisdrink. Perion conceded it, because nothing would ever matter any more;and so, the horses tethered, they sat upon the sand in utter silencefor the space of a half hour.
A bird cried somewhere, just once, and with a start Perion knew thenight was not quite so murky as it had been, for he could now see abroken line of white, where the tide crept up and shattered and ebbed.Then in a while a light sank tipsily to the water's level and presentlywas bobbing in the darkness, apart from those other lights, and it wasgrowing in size and brilliancy.
Said Perion, "They have sent out the boat."
"Ay," the bishop answered, as before.
A sort of madness came upon Perion, and it seemed that he must weep,because everything fell out so very ill in this world.
"Messire de Montors, you have aided me. I would be grateful if youpermitted it."
De Montors spoke at last, saying crisply:
"Gratitude, I take it, forms no part of the bargain. I am the kinsmanof Dame Melicent. It makes for my interest and for the honour of ourhouse that the man whose rooms she visits at night be got out ofPoictesme--"
Said Perion, "You speak in this fashion of the most lovely lady God hasmade--of her whom the world adores!"
"Adores!" the bishop answered, with a laugh; "and what poor gull am Ito adore an attested wanton?" Then, with a sneer, he spoke of Melicent,and in such terms as are not bettered by repetition.
Perion said:
"I am the most unhappy man alive, as surely as you are the mostungenerous. For, look you, in my presence you have spoken infamy ofDame Melicent, though knowing I am in your debt so deeply that I havenot the right to resent anything you may elect to say. You have justgiven me my life; and armoured by the fire-new obligation, youblaspheme an angel, you condescend to buffet a fettered man--"
But with that his sluggish wits had spied an honest way out of theimbroglio.
Perion said then, "Draw, messire! for, as God lives, I may yetrepurchase, at this eleventh hour, the privilege of destroying you."
"Heyday! but here is an odd evincement of gratitude!" de Montorsretorted; "and though I am not particularly squeamish, let me tell you,my fine fellow, I do not ordinarily fight with lackeys."
"Nor are you fit to do so, messire. Believe me, there is not a lackeyin this realm--no, not a cut-purse, nor any pander--who would not inmeeting you upon equal footing degrade himself. For you have slanderedthat which is most perfect in the world; yet lies, Messire de Montors,have short legs; and I design within the hour to insure the calumnyagainst an echo."
"Rogue, I have given you your very life within the hour--"
"The fact is undeniable. Thus I must fling the bounty back to you, sothat we sorry scoundrels may meet as equals." Perion wheeled toward theboat, which was now within the reach of wading. "Who is among you?Gaucelm, Roger, Jean Britauz--" He found the man he sought. "Ahasuerus,the captain that was to have accompanied the Free Companions oversea isof another mind. I cede my leadership to Landry de Bonnay. You willhave the kindness to inform him of the unlooked-for change, and totender your new captain every appropriate regret and the dyingfelicitations of Perion de la Foret."
He bowed toward the landward twilight, where the sand hillocks weretaking form.
"Messire de Montors, we may now resume our vigil. When yonder vesselsails there will be no conceivable happening that can keep breathwithin my body two weeks longer. I shall be quit of every debt to you.You will then fight with a man already dead if you so elect; butotherwise--if you attempt to flee this place, if you decline to crossswords with a lackey, with a convicted thief, with a suspectedmurderer, I swear upon my mother's honour! I will demolish you withoutcompunction, as I would any other vermin."
"Oh, brave, brave!" sneered the bishop, "to fling away your life, andperhaps mine too, for an idle word--" But at that he fetched a sob. "Howfoolish of you! and how like you!" he said, and Perion wondered at thisprelate's voice.
"Hey, gentlemen!" cried Ayrart de Montors, "a moment if you please!" Hesplashed knee-deep into the icy water, wading to the boat, where hesnatched the lantern from the Jew's hands and fetched this lightashore. He held it aloft, so that Perion might see his face, and Perionperceived that, by some wonder-working, the person in man's attire whoheld this light aloft was Melicent. It was odd that Perion alwaysremembered afterward most clearly of all the loosened wisp of hair thewind tossed about her forehead.
"Look well upon me, Perion," said Melicent. "Look well, ruinedgentleman! look well, poor hunted vagabond! and note how proud I am.Oh, in all things I am very proud! A little I exult in my high stationand in my wealth, and, yes, even in my beauty, for I know that I ambeautiful, but it is the chief of all my honours that you love me--andso foolishly!"
"You do not understand--!" cried Perion.
"Rather I understand at last that you are in sober verity a lackey, animpostor, and a thief, even as you said. Ay, a lackey to your honour!an imposter that would endeavour--and, oh, so very vainly!--toimpersonate another's baseness! and a thief that has stolen anotherperson's punishment! I ask no questions; loving means trusting; but Iwould like to kill that other person very, very slowly. I ask noquestions, but I dare to trust the man I know of, even in defiance ofthat man's own voice. I dare protest the man no thief, but in allthings a madly honourable gentleman. My poor bruised, puzzled boy," saidMelicent, with an odd mirthful tenderness, "how came you to beblundering about this miry world of ours! Only be very good for my sakeand forget the bitterness; what does it matter when there is happiness,too?"
He answered nothing, but it was not because of misery.
"Come, come, will you not even help me into the boat?" said Melicent.She, too, was glad.
5.
_How Melicent Wedded_
"That may not be, my cousin."
It was the real Bishop of Montors who was speaking. His company, somefifteen men in all, had ridden up while Melicent and Perion lookedseaward. The bishop was clothed, in his habitual fashion, as acavalier, showing in nothing as a churchman. He sat a-horseback for aconsiderable while, looking down at them, smiling and stroking thepommel of his saddle with a gold-fringed glove. It was now dawn.
"I have been eavesdropping," the bishop said. His voice was tender, forthe young man loved his kinswoman with an affection second only to thatwhich he reserved for Ayrart de Montors. "Yes, I have beeneavesdropping for an instant, and through that instant I seemed to seethe heart of every woman that ever lived; and they differed only asstars differ on a fair night in August. No woman ever loved a manexcept, at bottom, as a mother loves her child: let him elect to builda nation or to write imperishable verses or to take purses upon thehighway, and she will only smile to note how breathlessly the boy goesabout his playing; and when he comes back to her with grimier hands sheis a little sorry, and, if she think it salutary, will pretend to beangry. Meanwhile she sets about the quickest way to cleanse him and toheal his bruises. They are more wise than we, and at the bottom oftheir hearts they pity us more stalwart folk whose grosser witsrequire, to be quite sure of anything, a mere crass proof of it; andalways they make us better by indomitably believing we are better thanin reality a man can ever be."
Now Ayrart de Montors dismounted.
"So much for my sermon. For the rest, Messire de la Foret, I perfectlyrecognised you on the day you came to Bellegarde. But I said nothing.For that you had not murder
ed King Helmas, as is popularly reported, Iwas certain, inasmuch as I happen to know he is now at Brunbelois,where Dame Melusine holds his person and his treasury. A terrible,delicious woman! begotten on a water-demon, people say. I ask noquestions. She is a close and useful friend to me, and through her aidI hope to go far. You see that I am frank. It is my nature." The bishopshrugged. "In a phrase, I accepted the Vicomte de Puysange, although itwas necessary, of course, to keep an eye upon your comings in and yourgoings out, as you now see. And until this the imposture amused me. Butthis"--his hand waved toward the _Tranchemer_--"this, my fair friends,is past a jest."
"You talk and talk," cried Perion, "while I reflect that I love thefairest lady who at any time has had life upon earth."
"The proof of your affection," the bishop returned, "is, if you willpermit the observation, somewhat extraordinary. For you propose, Igather, to make of her a camp-follower, a soldier's drab. Come, come,messire! you and I are conversant with warfare as it is. Armies do notconduct encounters by throwing sugar-candy at one another. What homehave you, a landless man, to offer Melicent? What place is there forMelicent among your Free Companions?"
"Oh, do I not know that!" said Perion. He turned to Melicent, and longand long they gazed upon each other.
"Ignoble as I am," said Perion, "I never dreamed to squire an angeldown toward the mire and filth which for a while as yet must be mykennel. I go. I go alone. Do you bid me return?"
The girl was perfectly calm. She took a ring of diamonds from her hand,and placed it on his little finger, because the others were too large.
"While life endures I pledge you faith and service, Perion. There is noneed to speak of love."
"There is no need," he answered. "Oh, does God think that I will livewithout you!"
"I suppose they will give me to King Theodoret. The terrible old manhas set my body as the only price that will buy him off from ravagingPoictesme, and he is stronger in the field than Emmerick. Emmerick isafraid of him, and Ayrart here has need of the King's friendship inorder to become a cardinal. So my kinsmen must make traffic of my eyesand lips and hair. But first I wed you, Perion, here in the sight ofGod, and I bid you return to me, who am your wife and servitor for evernow, whatever lesser men may do."
"I will return," he said.
Then in a little while she withdrew her lips from his lips.
"Cover my face, Ayrart. It may be I shall weep presently. Men must notsee the wife of Perion weep. Cover my face, for he is going now, and Icannot watch his going."
PART TWO
MELICENT
_Of how through love is Melicent upcastUnder a heathen castle at the last:And how a wicked lord of proud degree,Demetrios, dwelleth in this country,Where humbled under him are all mankind:How to this wretched woman he hath mind,That fallen is in pagan lands alone,In point to die, as presently is shown._
6.
_How Melicent Sought Oversea_
It is a tale which they narrate in Poictesme, telling how love beganbetween Perion of the Forest, who was a captain of mercenaries, andyoung Melicent, who was daughter to the great Dom Manuel, and sister toCount Emmerick of Poictesme. They tell also how Melicent and Perionwere parted, because there was no remedy, and policy demanded sheshould wed King Theodoret.
And the tale tells how Perion sailed with his retainers to seekdesperate service under the harried Kaiser of the Greeks.
This venture was ill-fated, since, as the Free Companions were passingnot far from Masillia, their vessel being at the time becalmed, theywere attacked by three pagan galleys under the admiralty of theproconsul Demetrios. Perion's men, who fought so hardily on land, werenovices at sea. They were powerless against an adversary who, from agreat distance, showered liquid fire upon their vessel.
Then Demetrios sent little boats and took some thirty prisoners fromthe blazing ship, and made slaves of all save Ahasuerus the Jew, whomhe released on being informed of the lean man's religion. It was acustomary boast of this Demetrios that he made war on Christians only.
And presently, as Perion had commanded, Ahasuerus came to Melicent.
The princess sat in a high chair, the back of which was capped with abig lion's head in brass. It gleamed above her head, but was lessglorious than her bright hair.
Ahasuerus made dispassionate report. "Thus painfully I have delivered,as my task was, these fine messages concerning Faith and Love and Deathand so on. Touching their rationality I may reserve my own opinion. Iam merely Perion's echo. Do I echo madness? This madman was my lovedand honoured master once, a lord without any peer in the fields wheremen contend in battle. To-day those sinews which preserved a throne arededicated to the transportation of luggage. Grant it is laughable. I donot laugh."
"And I lack time to weep," said Melicent.
So, when the Jew had told his tale and gone, young Melicent arose andwent into a chamber painted with the histories of Jason and Medea,where her brother Count Emmerick hid such jewels as had not many equalsin Christendom.
She did not hesitate. She took no thought for her brother, she did notremember her loved sisters: Ettarre and Dorothy were their names, andthey also suffered for their beauty, and for the desire it quickened inthe hearts of men. Melicent knew only that Perion was in captivity andmight not look for aid from any person living save herself.
She gathered in a blue napkin such emeralds as would ransom a pope. Shecut short her marvellous hair and disguised herself in all things as aman, and under cover of the ensuing night slipped from the castle. AtManneville she found a Venetian ship bound homeward with a cargo ofswords and armour.
She hired herself to the captain of this vessel as a servant, callingherself Jocelin Gaignars. She found no time--wherein to be afraid or togrieve for the estate she was relinquishing, so long as Perion lay indanger.
Thus the young Jocelin, though not without hardship and odd by-ends ofadventure here irrelevant, came with time's course into a land ofsunlight and much wickedness where Perion was.
There the boy found in what fashion Perion was living and won thedearly purchased misery of seeing him, from afar, in his deplorablecondition, as Perion went through the outer yard of Nacumera laden withchains and carrying great logs toward the kitchen. This befell whenJocelin had come into the hill country, where the eyrie of Demetriosblocked a crag-hung valley as snugly as a stone chokes a gutter-pipe.
Young Jocelin had begged an audience of this heathen lord and hadobtained it--though Jocelin did not know as much--with ominousfacility.
7.
_How Perion Was Freed_
Demetrios lay on a divan within the Court of Stars, through which youpassed from the fortress into the Women's Garden and the luxuriousprison where he kept his wives. This court was circular in form and waspaved with red and yellow slabs, laid alternately, like a chess-board.In the centre was a fountain, which cast up a tall thin jet of water. Agallery extended around the place, supported by columns that had beenpainted scarlet and were gilded with fantastic designs. The walls wereof the colour of claret and were adorned with golden cinquefoilsregularly placed. From a distance they resembled stars, and so gave theenclosure its name.
Demetrios lay upon a long divan which was covered with crimson, andwhich encircled the court entirely, save for the apertures of the twoentrances. Demetrios was of burly person, which he by ordinary, asto-day, adorned resplendently; of a stature little above the commonsize, and disproportionately broad as to his chest and shoulders. Itwas rumoured that he could bore an apple through with his forefingerand had once killed a refractory horse with a blow of his naked fist;nor looking on the man, did you presume to question the report. Hiseyes were large and insolent, coloured like onyxes; for the rest, hehad a handsome surly face which was disfigured by pimples.
He did not speak at all while Jocelin explained that his errand was toransom Perion. Then, "At what price?" Demetrios said, without any signof interest; and Jocelin, with many encomiums, displayed his emeralds.
"Ay, they are well enough," Demetrios
agreed. "But then I have asuperfluity of jewels."
He raised himself a little among the cushions, and in this moving thefigured golden stuff in which he was clothed heaved and glittered likethe scales of a splendid monster. He leisurely unfastened the greatchrysoberyl, big as a hen's egg, which adorned his fillet.
"Look you, this is of a far more beautiful green than any of yourtrinkets, I think it is as valuable also, because of its huge size.Moreover, it turns red by lamplight--red as blood. That is an admirablecolour. And yet I do not value it. I think I do not value anything. SoI will make you a gift of this big coloured pebble, if you desire it,because your ignorance amuses me. Most people know Demetrios is not amerchant. He does not buy and sell. That which he has he keeps, andthat which he desires he takes."
The boy was all despair. He did not speak. He was very handsome as hestood in that still place where everything excepting him was red andgold.
"You do not value my poor chrysoberyl? You value your friend more? Itis a page out of Theocritos--'when there were golden men of old, whenfriends gave love for love.' And yet I could have sworn--Come now, awager," purred Demetrios. "Show your contempt of this bauble to be asgreat as mine by throwing this shiny pebble, say, into the gallery, forthe next passer-by to pick up, and I will credit your sincerity. Dothat and I will even name my price for Perion."
The boy obeyed him without hesitation. Turning, he saw the horridchange in the intent eyes of Demetrios, and quailed before it. Butinstantly that flare of passion flickered out.