CHAPTER XV
THE CROSSING OF A "T"
Yolanda and her stepmother remained on the divan in silence for fully anhour after the duke had left. The duchess was first to speak.
"Be resigned, sweet one, to your fate. It is one common to women. It wasmy hard fate to be compelled to marry your father. It was your mother's,poor woman, and it killed her. God wills our slavery, and we mustsubmit. We but make our fate harder by fighting against it."
Yolanda answered with convulsive sobs, but after a while she grew morecalm.
"Is there nothing I can do to save myself?" she asked.
"No, sweet one," answered the duchess.
"Has God put a curse upon women, mother?" asked Yolanda.
"Alas! I fear He has," answered Margaret. "The Holy Church teaches usthat He punishes us for the sin of our mother Eve, but though Hepunishes us, He loves us, and we are His children. He knows what is bestfor us here and hereafter."
"He certainly is looking to my _future_ good, if at all," sighedYolanda. "But I do believe in God's goodness, mother, and I am sure Hewill save me. Holy Virgin! how helpless a woman is." She began to weepafresh, and the duchess tried to soothe her.
"I believe I will pray to the Virgin. She may help us," said the girl,in a voice that was plaintively childlike.
"It is a pious thought, Mary," answered the duchess.
Yolanda slipped from the divan to the floor, and, kneeling, buried herface in her mother's lap. She prayed aloud:--
"Blessed Virgin, Thou seest my dire need. Help me. My prayer is short,but Thou, Blessed Lady, knowest how fervent it is." The duchess crossedherself, bowed her head, and murmured a fervent "Amen."
Yolanda rose from her prayer with a brighter face, and exclaimed almostjoyfully:--
"It was impious in me to doubt God's love, mother. I do believe I heardthe Blessed Virgin say, 'Help is at hand.' At least, I felt herwords, mother."
Yolanda moved about the room aimlessly for several minutes and by chancestopped at the table. She started to take up the quill and ink-well tocarry them back to her parlor, which was in Darius (Darius was the nameof the tower that rose from the castle battlements immediately aboveCastleman's House under the Wall), and her eyes rested on the small ironbox in which the letter to King Louis had been deposited. An unconsciousmotive, perhaps it was childish curiosity, prompted her to examine themissive. She took the pouch from the box and found it unsealed. Shelistlessly drew out the missive and began to read, when suddenly herface grew radiant with joy. She ran excitedly to her mother, who wassitting on the divan, and exclaimed:--
"Oh! mother, the sweet Blessed Virgin has sent help!"
"In what manner, child?" asked the duchess, fondling Yolanda's hairwhile the girl knelt beside her.
"Here, mother, here! Here is help; here in this very letter that wasintended to be my undoing. I cannot wait to thank the Holy Mother." Shecrossed herself and buried her face in her mother's lap while shethanked the Virgin.
"What is it, Mary, and where is the help?" asked Margaret, fearing thegirl's mind had been touched by her troubles.
"Listen!" cried Yolanda.
Her excitement was so great that she could hardly see the words thebishop's scrivener had written.
"Listen, listen! Father in this letter first tells the king thathe--that is, father, you understand--is going to war with Lorraine--no,with Bourbon. I am wrong again. Father is so constantly warring withsome one that I cannot keep track of his enemies--against the Swiss.See, mother, it is the Swiss. He says he will go--will start--will beginthe war--no, I am wrong again. I can hardly see the words. He says hewill march at the head of a Burgundian army--poor soldiers, I pitythem--within three weeks. Ah, how short that time seemed when I heardthe letter read an hour ago. How long it is now! I wish he would marchto-morrow. Three long weeks!"
"But, my dear, how will that help you?" asked the duchess. "In whatmanner will--"
"Do not interrupt me, mother, but hear what follows. Father says he willmarch in three weeks and 'begs that His Majesty of France will _now_move toward the immediate consummation of the treaty existing betweenBurgundy and France looking to the marriage of the Princess,Mademoiselle de Burgundy, with the princely Dauphin, son to King Louis.'In that word 'now,' mother, lies my help."
"In what manner does help lie in the word 'now,' child?" asked theduchess.
"In this, mother. 'Now' is a little word of three letters, n-o-v. See,mother, the letter 'v' is not perfectly made. We will extend the firstprong upward, cross it and make 't' of it, using the second prong as aflourish. Then the letter will read, 'begs that His Majesty of Francewill _not_ move toward the immediate consummation of the treaty.' Whatcould be more natural than that my father should wish nothing ofimportance to occur until after this war with Switzerland is over? TheFrench king, of course, will answer that he will not move in the matter,and his letter will throw father into a delightful frenzy of rage. Itmay even induce him to declare war against France, and to break off thetreaty of marriage when he returns from Switzerland. He has often donebattle for a lesser cause. It will at least prevent the marriage for thepresent. It may prevent it forever."
"Surely that cannot be; King Louis will immediately explain the mistaketo your father," suggested Margaret.
"But father, you know, will not listen to an explanation if he fears itmay avert blows," returned Yolanda; "and he will be sure not to believeKing Louis whose every word he doubts. I shall enjoy King Louis' effortsto explain. 'Hypocrite,' 'liar,' 'coward,' 'villain,' will be amongfather's most endearing terms when speaking of His Majesty. If by chancethe error of 'not' for 'now' be discovered, the Bishop of Cambrai andfather will swear it is King Louis who has committed the forgery. Butshould the worst come, our 't' will have answered its purpose, at leastfor the present. The bishop may suffer, but I care not. He did his partin bringing about this marriage treaty, bribed, doubtless, by KingLouis' gold. In any case, we have no reason to constitute ourselves thebishop's guardians. We have all we can do to care for ourselves--andmore."
She sprang to her feet and danced about the room, ardently kissing theletter she had so recently dreaded.
"Mary, you frighten me," said the duchess. "If we should be discoveredin changing this letter, I do believe your father would kill us. I donot know that it would be right to make the alteration. It would beforgery, and that, you know, is a crime punishable by death."
"_We_ shall not be discovered," said Mary. "You must have no part inthis transaction, mother. Father would not kill me; I am too valuable asa chattel of trade. With my poor little self he can buy the good-will ofkings and princes. I am more potent than all his gold. This alterationcan be no sin; it is self-defence. Think how small it is, mother. It isonly a matter of the crossing of a 't.' But I care not how great thecrime may be; I believe, mother, I would commit murder to save myselffrom the fate father wishes to put upon me."
"You frighten me, child," said Margaret. "I tremble in terror at whatyou propose to do."
"I, too, am trembling, mother," sighed Yolanda, "but you must now leavethe room. You must know nothing of this great crime."
The girl laughed nervously and tried to push her mother from the room.
"No, I will remain," said the duchess. "I almost believe that you areright, and that the Virgin has prompted you to do this to saveyourself."
"I know she has," answered Yolanda, crossing herself. "Now leave me. Imust waste no more time."
"I will remain with you, Mary," said Margaret, "and I will myself makethe alteration. Then I'll take all the blame in case we are discovered."
Margaret rose, walked over to the table, and took up the quill. Shetrembled so violently that she could not control her hand.
"No, mother, you shall not touch it," cried Yolanda, snatching theparchment from the countess and holding it behind her. "If I would letyou, you could not make the alteration; see, your hand trembles! Youwould blot the parchment and spoil all this fine plan of mine. Give methe quill, mother
! Give me the quill!"
She took the quill from Margaret's passive hand and sat down at thetable. Spreading the missive before her, she dipped the quill in theink-well, and when she lifted it, a drop of ink fell upon the tablewithin a hair's breadth of the parchment.
"Ah, Blessed Virgin!" cried Yolanda, snatching the missive away from theink blot. "If the ink had fallen on the parchment, we surely had beenlost. I, too, am trembling, and I dare not try to make the alterationnow. What a poor, helpless creature I am, when I cannot even cross a 't'to save myself. Blessed Virgin, help me once more!"
But help did not come. Yolanda's excitement grew instead of subsiding,and she was so wrought upon by a nameless fear that she began to weep.Margaret seated herself on the divan and covered her face with herhands. Yolanda walked the floor like a caged wild thing, utteringejaculatory prayers to the Virgin. Again she took up the quill, butagain put it down, exclaiming:--
"I have it, mother! There is a friend of whom I have often told you--SirKarl. He will help us if I can bring him here in time. If father hasleft the castle, I'll take the letter to my parlor and fetch Sir Karl.He is a brave, strong old man and his hand will not tremble."
Yolanda left the room and soon returned.
"Father has gone to the marshes," she whispered excitedly. "We haveample time if I can find Sir Karl."
She took the missive, the ink, and the quill to her parlor in DariusTower, and hurried to Castleman's house. How she got there I willsoon tell you.
She found Twonette sewing, and hastily explained her wishes.
"Run, Twonette, to The Mitre, and fetch me Sir Karl. I don't want SirMax to know that I am sending. I think Sir Max has gone falconing withfather; I pray God he has gone, and I pray that Sir Karl has not. TellSir Karl to come to me at once. If he is not at the inn send for him. Ifyou love me, Twonette, make all haste. Run! Run!"
Twonette's haste was really wonderful. When she found me her cheeks werelike red roses, and she could hardly speak for lack of breath. For thefirst and last time I saw Twonette shorn of her serenity.
The duke had not invited me to go hawking, and fortunately I had stayedat home cuddling the thought that Yolanda was the Princess Mary, andthat my fair Prince Max had found rare favor in her eyes.
"Yolanda wants you at my father's house immediately," said Twonette,when I stepped outside the inn door. "The need is urgent beyondmeasure." Whereupon she courtesied and turned away. Twonette held thatwords were not made to be wasted, so I asked no questions. I almost ranto Castleman's house, and was taken at once to a large room in thesecond story. It was on the west side of the house immediately againstthe castle wall. The walls of the room were sealed with broad oakpanels, beautifully carved, and the west end of the apartment--that nextthe castle wall--was hung with silk tapestries. When I entered the roomI found Yolanda alone. She hurriedly closed the door after me and spokeexcitedly:--
"I am so glad Twonette found you, Sir Karl. I am in dire need. Will youhelp me?"
"I will help you if it is in my power, Yolanda," I answered. "You canask nothing which I will not at least try to do."
"Even at the risk of your life?" she asked, placing her hand upon myarm.
"Even to the loss of my life, Yolanda," I replied.
"Would you commit an act which the law calls a crime?" she asked,trembling in voice and limb.
"I would do that which is really a crime, if I might thereby serve youto great purpose," I answered. "God often does apparent evil that goodmay come of it. An act must be judged as a whole, by its conception, itsexecution, and its result. Tell me what you wish me to do, and I will doit without an 'if'--God giving me the power."
"Then come with me."
She took my hand and led me to the end of the room next the castlewall. There she held the draperies to one side while she pushed back oneof the oak panels. Through this opening we passed, and the draperiesfell together behind us. After Yolanda had opened the panel a moment oflight revealed to me a flight of stone steps built in the heart of thecastle wall, which at that point was sixteen feet thick. When Yolandaclosed the panel, we were in total darkness. She took my left hand inher left and with her right arm at my back guided me up the long, darkstairway. While mounting the steps, she said:--"Now, Sir Karl, you haveall my great secrets--at least, they are very great to me. You know whoI am, and you know of this stairway. No one knows of it but my mother,uncle, aunt, Twonette, and my faithful tire-woman, Anne. Even my fatherdoes not know of its existence. If he knew, he would soon close it. Mygrandfather, Duke Philip the Good, built it in the wall to connect hisbedroom with the house of his true friend, burgher Castleman. Some dayI'll tell you the story of the stairway, and how I discovered it. Mybedroom is the one my grandfather occupied."
The stairway explained to me all the strange occurrences relating toYolanda's appearances and disappearances at Castleman's house, and itwill do the same for you.
After we had climbed until I felt that surely we must be among theclouds, I said:--
"Yolanda, you must be leading me to heaven."
"I should like to do that, Sir Karl," she responded, laughing softly.
"I would gladly give my life to lead you and Max to heaven," said I.
"Ah, Sir Karl," she answered gently, pressing my hand and caressinglyplacing her cheek against my arm. "I dare not even think on that. If hecould and would take me, believing me to be a burgher girl, he wouldtruly lead me to heaven."
After a pause, while we rested to take a breath, I said: "What is it youwant me to do, Yolanda? I am unarmed."
"I shall not ask you to do murder, Sir Karl," she said, laughingnervously. I fancied I could see a sparkle of mirth in her eyes as shecontinued: "It is not so bad as that. Neither is there a dragon for youto overthrow. But I shall soon enlighten you--here we are at the top ofthe steps."
At the moment she spoke I collided with a heavy oak partition, in whichYolanda quickly found a moving panel, and we entered a dimly lightedroom. I noticed among the furniture a gorgeously tapestried bed. A richrug, the like of which I had seen in Damascus, covered the floor. Thestone walls were draped with silk tapestry, and a jewelled lamp waspendant from the vaulted ceiling. This was Yolanda's bedroom, and trulyit was a resting-place worthy of the richest princess in Christendom. Ifelt that I was in the holy of holies. I found difficulty in believingthat the childlike Yolanda could be so important a personage in thepolitics of Europe. She seemed almost to belong to me, so much at thattime did she lean on my strength.
Out of her sleeping apartment she led me to another and a larger room,lighted by broad windows cut through the inner wall of the castle, whichat that point was not more than three or four feet thick. This wasYolanda's parlor. The floor, like that of the bedroom, was covered witha Damascus rug. The windows were closed by glass of crystal purity, andthe furniture was richer than any I had seen in the emperor's palace.
Yolanda led me to a table, pointed to a chair for me, and drew up onefor herself. At that moment a lady entered, whom Yolanda ran to meet.The princess took the lady's hand and led her to me:--
"Sir Karl, this is my mother. As you already know, she is my stepmother,but I forget that in the love I bear her, and in the sweet love shegives to me."
I bent my knee before the duchess, who gave me her hand to kiss,saying:--
"The princess has often spoken to me of you, Sir Karl. I see she hascrept into your heart. She wins all who know her."
"My devotion to Her Highness is self-evident and needs no avowal," Ianswered, "but I take pleasure in declaring it. I am ready to aid her atwhatever cost."
"Has the princess told you what she wants you to do?" asked the duchess.
I answered that she had not, but that I was glad to pledge myselfunenlightened. I then placed a chair for the duchess, but, of course,remained standing. Yolanda resumed her chair, and said:--
"Fetch a chair, Sir Karl. We are glad to have you sit, are we not,mother?"
"Indeed we are," said Margaret. "Please sit by the table,
and theprincess will explain why she brought you here."
"I believe I can now do it myself, mother," said Yolanda, taking afolded parchment from its pouch.
"See, my hand is perfectly steady. Sir Karl has given me strength."
She spread the parchment before her, and, taking a quill from the table,dipped it in the ink-well.
"I'll not need you after all, Sir Karl. I find I can commit my owncrime," she said, much to my disappointment. I was, you see, eager tosin for her. I longed to kill some one or to do some other deed ofvaliant and perilous villany.
Yolanda bent over the missive, quill in hand, but hesitated. Shechanged her position on the chair, squaring herself before theparchment, and tried again, but she seemed unable to use the quill. Sheplaced it on the table and laughed nervously.
"I surely am a great fool," she said. "When I take the quill in my hand,I tremble like a squire on his quintain trial. I'll wait a moment, andgrow calm again," she added, with a fluttering little laugh peculiar toher when she was excited. But she did not grow calm, and after she hadvainly taken up the quill again and again, her mother said:--
"Poor child! Tell Sir Karl what you wish him to do."
Yolanda did so, and then read the missive. I did not know the Englishlanguage perfectly, but Yolanda, who spoke it as if it were her mothertongue, translated as she read. I had always considered the islandlanguage harsh till I heard Yolanda speak it. Even the hissing "th" wasmusic on her lips. Had I been a young man I would doubtless have made afool of myself for the sake of this beautiful child-woman. When she hadfinished reading the missive, she left her chair and came to my side.She bent over my shoulder, holding the parchment before me.
"What I want to do, but can't--what I want you to do is so small andsimple a matter that it is almost amusing. I grow angry when I thinkthat I cannot do so little a thing to help myself; but you see, SirKarl, I tremble and my hand shakes to that extent I fear to mar thepage. I simply want to make the letter 't' on this parchment and Ican't. Will you do it for me?"
"Ay, gladly," I responded, "but where and why?" Then she pointed out tome the word "nov" in the manuscript and said:--
"A letter 't,' if deftly done, will make 'not' instead of 'nov.' Do youunderstand, Sir Karl?"
I sprang to my feet as if I had been touched by a sword-point. Thethought was so ingenious, the thing itself was so small and the resultwas so tremendous that I stood in wonder before the daring girl who hadconceived it. I made no answer. I placed the parchment on the table,unceremoniously reached in front of the duchess for the quill, and inless time than one can count three I made a tiny ink mark not thesixteenth part of an inch long that changed the destinies of nations forall time to come.
I placed the quill on the table and turned to Yolanda, just in time tocatch her as she was about to fall. I was frightened at the sight of herpale face and cried out:--
"Yolanda! Yolanda!"
Margaret quickly brought a small goblet of wine, and I held the princesswhile I opened her lips and poured a portion of the drink into hermouth. I had in my life seen, without a tremor, hundreds of men killed,but I had never seen a woman faint, and the sight almost unmanned me.
Stimulated by the wine Yolanda soon revived; and when she opened hereyes and smiled up into my face, I was so joyful that I fell to kissingher hands and could utter no word save "Yolanda, Yolanda." She did notat once rise from my arms, but lay there smiling into my face as if shewere a child. When she did rise she laughed softly and said, turning tothe duchess:--
"'Yolanda' is the name by which Sir Karl knows me. You see, mother, Iwas not mistaken in deeming him my friend."
Then she turned suddenly to me, and taking my rough old hand in hers,lifted it to her lips. That simple act of childish gratitude threw meinto a fever of ecstasy so great that death itself could have had noterrors for me. He might have come when he chose. I had lived throughthat one moment, and even God could not rob me of it.
Yolanda moved away from me and took up the parchment.
"Don't touch it till the ink dries," I cried sharply.
She dropped it as if it were hot, and the duchess came to me, andgraciously offered her hand:--
"I thank you with my whole heart, not only for what you have done, butfor the love you bear the princess. She is the one I love above allothers, and I know she loves me. I love those who love her. As theFrench say, '_Les amies de mes amies sont mes amies.'_ I am a poorhelpless woman, more to be pitied than the world can believe. I haveonly my gratitude to offer you, Sir Karl, but that shall be yours solong as I live."
"Your Grace's reward is far too great for the small service I haverendered," I replied, dropping to my knee. I was really beginning tolive in my sixtieth year. I was late in starting, but my zest for lifewas none the less, now that I had at last learned its sweetness throughthese two gracious women.
When we had grown more composed, Yolanda explained to me her hopesregarding the French king's answer to the altered missive, and the wholemarvellous possibilities of the letter "t" dawned upon my mind. Theprincess bent over the parchment, watching our mighty "t" while the inkwas drying, but the process was too slow for her, so she filled hercheeks and breathed upon the writing. The color returned to her facewhile I watched her, and I felt that committing a forgery was a smallprice to pay for witnessing so beautiful a sight. Yolanda's breath soondried the ink, and then we examined my work. I had performed wonders.The keenest eye could not detect the alteration. Yolanda, as usual,sprang from the deepest purgatory of trouble to the seventh heaven ofjoy. She ran about the room, singing, dancing, and laughing, until theduchess warned her to be quiet. Then she placed her hand over her mouth,shrugged her shoulders, walked on tiptoe, and spoke only in whispers.Margaret smiled affectionately at Yolanda's childish antics and said:--
"I think the conspirators should disperse. I hope, Sir Karl, that I maysoon meet you in due form. Meantime, of course, it is best that we donot know each other."
After examining the missive for the twentieth time, Yolanda placed it inits pouch and turned to the duchess.
"Take it, mother, to the iron box, and I will lead Sir Karl back toUncle Castleman's," she said.
The duchess graciously offered me a goblet of wine, and after I haddrunk, Yolanda led me down the stairway to the House under the Wall.While descending Yolanda called my attention to a loose stone in thewall of the staircase.
"The other end of this stone," she said, "penetrates the wall of theroom that you and Sir Max occupied the night before you were liberated.The mortar has fallen away, and it was here that I spoke to you and toldyou not to fear."
Here was another supernatural marvel all too easily explained.