The Talisman

  CHAPTER XIII.

  You talk of Gaiety and Innocence! The moment when the fatal fruit was eaten, They parted ne'er to meet again; and Malice Has ever since been playmate to light Gaiety, From the first moment when the smiling infant Destroys the flower or butterfly he toys with, To the last chuckle of the dying miser, Who on his deathbed laughs his last to hear His wealthy neighbour has become a bankrupt. OLD PLAY.

  Sir Kenneth was left for some minutes alone and in darkness. Here wasanother interruption which must prolong his absence from his post, andhe began almost to repent the facility with which he had been induced toquit it. But to return without seeing the Lady Edith was now not to bethought of. He had committed a breach of military discipline, and wasdetermined at least to prove the reality of the seductive expectationswhich had tempted him to do so. Meanwhile his situation was unpleasant.There was no light to show him into what sort of apartment he hadbeen led--the Lady Edith was in immediate attendance on the Queenof England--and the discovery of his having introduced himself thusfurtively into the royal pavilion might, were it discovered; lead tomuch and dangerous suspicion. While he gave way to these unpleasantreflections, and began almost to wish that he could achieve his retreatunobserved, he heard a noise of female voices, laughing, whispering, andspeaking, in an adjoining apartment, from which, as the sounds gave himreason to judge, he could only be separated by a canvas partition. Lampswere burning, as he might perceive by the shadowy light which extendeditself even to his side of the veil which divided the tent, and hecould see shades of several figures sitting and moving in the adjoiningapartment. It cannot be termed discourtesy in Sir Kenneth that, situatedas he was, he overheard a conversation in which he found himself deeplyinterested.

  "Call her--call her, for Our Lady's sake," said the voice of one ofthese laughing invisibles. "Nectabanus, thou shalt be made ambassador toPrester John's court, to show them how wisely thou canst discharge theeof a mission."

  The shrill tone of the dwarf was heard, yet so much subdued thatSir Kenneth could not understand what he said, except that he spokesomething of the means of merriment given to the guard.

  "But how shall we rid us of the spirit which Nectabanus hath raised, mymaidens?"

  "Hear me, royal madam," said another voice. "If the sage and princelyNectabanus be not over-jealous of his most transcendent bride andempress, let us send her to get us rid of this insolent knight-errant,who can be so easily persuaded that high-born dames may need the use ofhis insolent and overweening valour."

  "It were but justice, methinks," replied another, "that the PrincessGuenever should dismiss, by her courtesy, him whom her husband's wisdomhas been able to entice hither."

  Struck to the heart with shame and resentment at what he had heard, SirKenneth was about to attempt his escape from the tent at all hazards,when what followed arrested his purpose.

  "Nay, truly," said the first speaker, "our cousin Edith must first learnhow this vaunted wight hath conducted himself, and we must reserve thepower of giving her ocular proof that he hath failed in his duty. Itmay be a lesson will do good upon her; for, credit me, Calista, I havesometimes thought she has let this Northern adventurer sit nearer herheart than prudence would sanction."

  One of the other voices was then heard to mutter something of the LadyEdith's prudence and wisdom.

  "Prudence, wench!" was the reply. "It is mere pride, and the desire tobe thought more rigid than any of us. Nay, I will not quit my advantage.You know well that when she has us at fault no one can, in a civil way,lay your error before you more precisely than can my Lady Edith. Buthere she comes."

  A figure, as if entering the apartment, cast upon the partition ashade, which glided along slowly until it mixed with those whichalready clouded it. Despite of the bitter disappointment which he hadexperienced--despite the insult and injury with which it seemed he hadbeen visited by the malice, or, at best, by the idle humour of QueenBerengaria (for he already concluded that she who spoke loudest, and ina commanding tone, was the wife of Richard), the knight felt somethingso soothing to his feelings in learning that Edith had been no partnerto the fraud practised on him, and so interesting to his curiosity inthe scene which was about to take place, that, instead of prosecutinghis more prudent purpose of an instant retreat, he looked anxiously,on the contrary, for some rent or crevice by means of which he might bemade eye as well as ear witness to what was to go forward.

  "Surely," said he to himself, "the Queen, who hath been pleased foran idle frolic to endanger my reputation, and perhaps my life, cannotcomplain if I avail myself of the chance which fortune seems willing toafford me to obtain knowledge of her further intentions."

  It seemed, in the meanwhile, as if Edith were waiting for the commandsof the Queen, and as if the other were reluctant to speak for fear ofbeing unable to command her laughter and that of her companions; for SirKenneth could only distinguish a sound as of suppressed tittering andmerriment.

  "Your Majesty," said Edith at last, "seems in a merry mood, though,methinks, the hour of night prompts a sleepy one. I was well disposedbedward when I had your Majesty's commands to attend you."

  "I will not long delay you, cousin, from your repose," said the Queen,"though I fear you will sleep less soundly when I tell you your wager islost."

  "Nay, royal madam," said Edith, "this, surely, is dwelling on a jestwhich has rather been worn out, I laid no wager, however it was yourMajesty's pleasure to suppose, or to insist, that I did so."

  "Nay, now, despite our pilgrimage, Satan is strong with you, my gentlecousin, and prompts thee to leasing. Can you deny that you gaged yourruby ring against my golden bracelet that yonder Knight of the Libbard,or how call you him, could not be seduced from his post?"

  "Your Majesty is too great for me to gainsay you," replied Edith,"but these ladies can, if they will, bear me witness that it was yourHighness who proposed such a wager, and took the ring from my finger,even while I was declaring that I did not think it maidenly to gageanything on such a subject."

  "Nay, but, my Lady Edith," said another voice, "you must needs grant,under your favour, that you expressed yourself very confident of thevalour of that same Knight of the Leopard."

  "And if I did, minion," said Edith angrily, "is that a good reason whythou shouldst put in thy word to flatter her Majesty's humour? I spokeof that knight but as all men speak who have seen him in the field, andhad no more interest in defending than thou in detracting from him. In acamp, what can women speak of save soldiers and deeds of arms?"

  "The noble Lady Edith," said a third voice, "hath never forgiven Calistaand me, since we told your Majesty that she dropped two rosebuds in thechapel."

  "If your Majesty," said Edith, in a tone which Sir Kenneth could judgeto be that of respectful remonstrance, "have no other commands forme than to hear the gibes of your waiting-women, I must crave yourpermission to withdraw."

  "Silence, Florise," said the Queen, "and let not our indulgence leadyou to forget the difference betwixt yourself and the kinswoman ofEngland.--But you, my dear cousin," she continued, resuming her toneof raillery, "how can you, who are so good-natured, begrudge us poorwretches a few minutes' laughing, when we have had so many days devotedto weeping and gnashing of teeth?"

  "Great be your mirth, royal lady," said Edith; "yet would I be contentnot to smile for the rest of my life, rather than--"

  She stopped, apparently out of respect; but Sir Kenneth could hear thatshe was in much agitation.

  "Forgive me," said Berengaria, a thoughtless but good-humoured princessof the House of Navarre; "but what is the great offence, after all? Ayoung knight has been wiled hither--has stolen, or has been stolen, fromhis post, which no one will disturb in his absence--for the sake of afair lady; for, to do your champion justice, sweet one, the wisdom ofNectabanus could conjure him hither in no name but yours."

  "Gracious Heaven! your Majesty does not say so?" said Edith, in avoice of alarm quite different from the agitation sh
e had previouslyevinced,--"you cannot say so consistently with respect for your ownhonour and for mine, your husband's kinswoman! Say you were jesting withme, my royal mistress, and forgive me that I could, even for a moment,think it possible you could be in earnest!"

  "The Lady Edith," said the Queen, in a displeased tone of voice,"regrets the ring we have won of her. We will restore the pledge to you,gentle cousin; only you must not grudge us in turn a little triumph overthe wisdom which has been so often spread over us, as a banner over ahost."

  "A triumph!" exclaimed Edith indignantly--"a triumph! The triumph willbe with the infidel, when he hears that the Queen of England canmake the reputation of her husband's kinswoman the subject of a lightfrolic."

  "You are angry, fair cousin, at losing your favourite ring," said theQueen. "Come, since you grudge to pay your wager, we will renounce ourright; it was your name and that pledge brought him hither, and we carenot for the bait after the fish is caught."

  "Madam," replied Edith impatiently, "you know well that your Grace couldnot wish for anything of mine but it becomes instantly yours. But Iwould give a bushel of rubies ere ring or name of mine had been used tobring a brave man into a fault, and perhaps to disgrace and punishment."

  "Oh, it is for the safety of our true knight that we fear!" said theQueen. "You rate our power too low, fair cousin, when you speak ofa life being lost for a frolic of ours. O Lady Edith, others haveinfluence on the iron breasts of warriors as well as you--the hearteven of a lion is made of flesh, not of stone; and, believe me, I haveinterest enough with Richard to save this knight, in whose fate LadyEdith is so deeply concerned, from the penalty of disobeying his royalcommands."

  "For the love of the blessed Cross, most royal lady," said Edith--andSir Kenneth, with feelings which it were hard to unravel, heard herprostrate herself at the Queen's feet--"for the love of our blessedLady, and of every holy saint in the calendar, beware what you do! Youknow not King Richard--you have been but shortly wedded to him. Yourbreath might as well combat the west wind when it is wildest, as yourwords persuade my royal kinsman to pardon a military offence. Oh, forGod's sake, dismiss this gentleman, if indeed you have lured him hither!I could almost be content to rest with the shame of having invited him,did I know that he was returned again where his duty calls him!"

  "Arise, cousin, arise," said Queen Berengaria, "and be assured all willbe better than you think. Rise, dear Edith. I am sorry I have played myfoolery with a knight in whom you take such deep interest. Nay, wringnot thy hands; I will believe thou carest not for him--believe anythingrather than see thee look so wretchedly miserable. I tell thee Iwill take the blame on myself with King Richard in behalf of thy fairNorthern friend--thine acquaintance, I would say, since thou own'st himnot as a friend. Nay, look not so reproachfully. We will send Nectabanusto dismiss this Knight of the Standard to his post; and we ourselveswill grace him on some future day, to make amends for his wild-goosechase. He is, I warrant, but lying perdu in some neighbouring tent."

  "By my crown of lilies, and my sceptre of a specially good water-reed,"said Nectabanus, "your Majesty is mistaken, He is nearer at hand thanyou wot--he lieth ensconced there behind that canvas partition."

  "And within hearing of each word we have said!" exclaimed the Queen, inher turn violently surprised and agitated. "Out, monster of folly andmalignity!"

  As she uttered these words, Nectabanus fled from the pavilion with ayell of such a nature as leaves it still doubtful whether Berengaria hadconfined her rebuke to words, or added some more emphatic expression ofher displeasure.

  "What can now be done?" said the Queen to Edith, in a whisper ofundisguised uneasiness.

  "That which must," said Edith firmly. "We must see this gentleman andplace ourselves in his mercy."

  So saying, she began hastily to undo a curtain, which at one placecovered an entrance or communication.

  "For Heaven's sake, forbear--consider," said the Queen--"myapartment--our dress--the hour--my honour!"

  But ere she could detail her remonstrances, the curtain fell, and therewas no division any longer betwixt the armed knight and the party ofladies. The warmth of an Eastern night occasioned the undress of QueenBerengaria and her household to be rather more simple and unstudied thantheir station, and the presence of a male spectator of rank, required.This the Queen remembered, and with a loud shriek fled from theapartment where Sir Kenneth was disclosed to view in a compartment ofthe ample pavilion, now no longer separated from that in which theystood. The grief and agitation of the Lady Edith, as well as the deepinterest she felt in a hasty explanation with the Scottish knight,perhaps occasioned her forgetting that her locks were more dishevelledand her person less heedfully covered than was the wont of high-borndamsels, in an age which was not, after all, the most prudish orscrupulous period of the ancient time. A thin, loose garment ofpink-coloured silk made the principal part of her vestments, withOriental slippers, into which she had hastily thrust her bare feet, anda scarf hurriedly and loosely thrown about her shoulders. Her head hadno other covering than the veil of rich and dishevelled locks fallinground it on every side, that half hid a countenance which a mingledsense of modesty and of resentment, and other deep and agitatedfeelings, had covered with crimson.

  But although Edith felt her situation with all that delicacy which isher sex's greatest charm, it did not seem that for a moment she placedher own bashfulness in comparison with the duty which, as she thought,she owed to him who had been led into error and danger on her account.She drew, indeed, her scarf more closely over her neck and bosom, andshe hastily laid from her hand a lamp which shed too much lustre overher figure; but, while Sir Kenneth stood motionless on the same spot inwhich he was first discovered, she rather stepped towards than retiredfrom him, as she exclaimed, "Hasten to your post, valiant knight!--youare deceived in being trained hither--ask no questions."

  "I need ask none," said the knight, sinking upon one knee, with thereverential devotion of a saint at the altar, and bending his eyes onthe ground, lest his looks should increase the lady's embarrassment.

  "Have you heard all?" said Edith impatiently. "Gracious saints! thenwherefore wait you here, when each minute that passes is loaded withdishonour!"

  "I have heard that I am dishonoured, lady, and I have heard it fromyou," answered Kenneth. "What reck I how soon punishment follows? Ihave but one petition to you; and then I seek, among the sabres of theinfidels, whether dishonour may not be washed out with blood."

  "Do not so, neither," said the lady. "Be wise--dally not here; all mayyet be well, if you will but use dispatch."

  "I wait but for your forgiveness," said the knight, still kneeling,"for my presumption in believing that my poor services could have beenrequired or valued by you."

  "I do forgive you--oh, I have nothing to forgive! have been the means ofinjuring you. But oh, begone! I will forgive--I will value you--that is,as I value every brave Crusader--if you will but begone!"

  "Receive, first, this precious yet fatal pledge," said the knight,tendering the ring to Edith, who now showed gestures of impatience.

  "Oh, no, no " she said, declining to receive it. "Keep it--keep it as amark of my regard--my regret, I would say. Oh, begone, if not for yourown sake, for mine!"

  Almost recompensed for the loss even of honour, which her voice haddenounced to him, by the interest which she seemed to testify in hissafety, Sir Kenneth rose from his knee, and, casting a momentary glanceon Edith, bowed low, and seemed about to withdraw. At the same instant,that maidenly bashfulness, which the energy of Edith's feelings had tillthen triumphed over, became conqueror in its turn, and she hastened fromthe apartment, extinguishing her lamp as she went, and leaving, in SirKenneth's thoughts, both mental and natural gloom behind her.

  She must be obeyed, was the first distinct idea which waked him fromhis reverie, and he hastened to the place by which he had entered thepavilion. To pass under the canvas in the manner he had entered requiredtime and attention, and he made a readier aperture by
slitting thecanvas wall with his poniard. When in the free air, he felt ratherstupefied and overpowered by a conflict of sensations, than able toascertain what was the real import of the whole. He was obliged to spurhimself to action by recollecting that the commands of the Lady Edithhad required haste. Even then, engaged as he was amongst tent-ropes andtents, he was compelled to move with caution until he should regainthe path or avenue, aside from which the dwarf had led him, in order toescape the observation of the guards before the Queen's pavilion; and hewas obliged also to move slowly, and with precaution, to avoid giving analarm, either by falling or by the clashing of his armour. A thin cloudhad obscured the moon, too, at the very instant of his leaving the tent,and Sir Kenneth had to struggle with this inconvenience at a moment whenthe dizziness of his head and the fullness of his heart scarce left himpowers of intelligence sufficient to direct his motions.

  But at once sounds came upon his ear which instantly recalled him to thefull energy of his faculties. These proceeded from the Mount of SaintGeorge. He heard first a single, fierce, angry, and savage bark, whichwas immediately followed by a yell of agony. No deer ever bounded witha wilder start at the voice of Roswal than did Sir Kenneth at what hefeared was the death-cry of that noble hound, from whom no ordinaryinjury could have extracted even the slightest acknowledgment of pain.He surmounted the space which divided him from the avenue, and, havingattained it, began to run towards the mount, although loaded with hismail, faster than most men could have accompanied him even if unarmed,relaxed not his pace for the steep sides of the artificial mound, and ina few minutes stood on the platform upon its summit.

  The moon broke forth at this moment, and showed him that the Standard ofEngland was vanished, that the spear on which it had floated lay brokenon the ground, and beside it was his faithful hound, apparently in theagonies of death.