*CHAPTER XIV.*
_*SYBIL'S CHOICE*_*.*
"'Gifts!' cried the friend. He took: and, holding it High towards the heavens, as though to meet his star, Exclaimed,--'This, too, I owe to thee, Giafar!'" LEIGH HUNT.
It came at last--neither sooner for my dreading it, nor later for mywishing it--Holy Cross Day, the coronation morning.
Guy and I reached the Holy City the night before, and took up ourquarters with the holy Patriarch and his Lady Irene. We were justopposite the Palace. We could see lights flashing through theloop-holes, and now and then a shadow pass behind them. It was hard toknow that that house held all that we loved, and we were the only onesthat dared not enter it.
The Patriarch was most disagreeably loquacious. He told us every thing.He might have been cooking the banquet and broidering the robes, for allthe minute details he seemed to know. The Queen, he told us, was to bearrayed in golden baudekyn, and the Lady Isabel in rose and silver. Boththe Princesses would be present, attired in gold and blue. Poor littleAgnes and Helena! How little they would understand of their mother'sactions!
As little, perhaps, as any of us could understand of God's dealings inthis matter!
The officers of state were to surround the throne, which was to beplaced on the highest step of the choir; the nobles of the Council wereto stand, in order according to the date of their creation, round thenave below.
Lady Irene was as silent as her lord was talkative. But at night, whenshe brought me up to the chamber she had prepared for me, she told methe one thing I did care to know. A place had been specially reservedfor me, in the nave, immediately behind Guy; and the Lady Irene's ownplace was next to me.
"I am obliged to the Master of the Ceremonies," said I: for that wasjust where I wished to be.
"Nay," quietly said Lady Irene, as she took up her lamp; "the Damoiselleis obliged to the Lady Sybil."
Had Sybil thought of my fancy? What a strange compound shewas!--attending to one's insignificant likings, yet crushing one's veryheart to dust!
I did not sleep till very late, and I was aroused in the early morningby a flourish of trumpets, announcing that the grand day had dawned. Idressed myself, putting off my mourning for a suit of leaf-greenbaudekyn, for I knew that Guy would not be pleased if I wore any thingsombre, though it would have suited my feelings well enough. A goldenunder-tunic and kerchief, with my best coronet, were the remainder of myattire. I found Guy himself flashing in golden armour,[#] and wearinghis beautiful embroidered surcoat, which Sybil herself wrought for him,with the arms of Lusignan.
[#] This phrase was used of steel armour ornamented with gold.
How could she bear to see that existing token of her own dead love? Thesurcoat had worn better than the heart.
We took our appointed places--Lady Irene, Guy, and I,--and watched thenobles arrive,--now an odd one, now half-a-dozen together. ThePatriarch of course left us, as he was to officiate.
He told us last night that eighty out of every hundred felt no doubt atall that the Count of Tripoli would be the future King. (That Patriarchis the queerest mortal. It never seemed to enter his head that suchinformation would not be highly entertaining to Guy and me.)
Now was the time to discern our enemies from our friends. Those who didnotice us risked Court favour. But Messire de Montluc came all the wayfrom the choir to salute us; and I felt a throb of gratitude to him inmy heart. The Count of Edessa was not able to see us, and CountRaymond--O serpent, demon that he is!--looked straight at us, as if hehad never met us before.
It was an additional pang, that the order of precedence placed CountRaymond the very next to Guy. I sincerely wished him at the other endof the nave, though it would have placed him close to the throne.
And now the important persons began to arrive. Lady Judith, in the quietbrown habit of her Order, stopped and scanned the groups all round, tillher eyes reached us, and then she gave us a full smile, so rich in loveand peace, that my heart throbbed with sympathy, and yet ached withenvy.
Then came a lovely vision of rich rose and gleaming silver, which did_not_ look for us, and I felt that was Lady Isabel. And then two sweetlittle fairy forms in blue and gold, and I saw Guy crush his under-lipas his eyes fell upon his children.
Last came the Queen that was to be--a glorious ray of gold, four pagesbearing her train, and her long fair hair, no less golden than herrobes, streaming down them to her feet. She took her seat by LadyIsabel, on the velvet settle near the throne.
Then the Patriarch came forward into the midst of the church, to afaldstool set there: and announced in loud tones, that all the nobles ofthe Council of Sybil, shortly to be crowned Queen of Jerusalem, shouldcome forward in rotation to the faldstool, and swear between hishands[#] to bear true and faithful allegiance, as to his King, to thatone of them all whom it should please her to choose for her lord.
[#] Homage was always performed in this manner, the joined hands of theinferior, or oath-taker, being held between the hands of the superiorlord, or person who administered the oath.
One by one, they came forward: but I saw only two. Count Raymond kneltdown with an air of triumphant command, as though he felt himself Kingalready: Guy with an aspect of the most perfect quietness, as if he werethinking how he could spare Sybil.
When all the nobles were sworn, the Patriarch went back to the choir,and Sybil, rising, came and stood just before the throne. Thecoronation ceremony followed, but I was not sufficiently at ease toenter into it. There were prayers in sonorous Greek, and incense, andthe holy mass, and I cannot properly tell what else. The last item wasthe actual setting of the crown--the crown of all the world--on the headof Sybil of Anjou.
And then came a gentle rush of intense expectation, as Sybil lifted thecrown royal from her head, and prepared to descend the steps of thethrone.
Her choice was to be made now.
Down the damask carpeting of the nave she came, very, very slowly:carrying the crown in both hands, the holy Patriarch following andswinging the holy censer behind her. Her eyes were cast down. It wasevident that she knew perfectly well where he stood who was to wear thatcrown.
Slowly, slowly, all along the nave. Past one eligible noble afteranother, face after face gathering blankness as she went. At last sheturned, ever so little, to the right.
I could bear no more. I covered my face with my mantle. Let who wouldgaze on me--let who would sneer! She was coming--no doubt any longernow--straight towards Count Raymond of Tripoli.
And never--with the faint flush in her cheeks, and the sweet, downcasteyes--had I seen her look so beautiful. And all at once, athwart myanger, my indignation, my sense of bitter wrong, came one fervent gushof that old, deep love, which had been mine for Sybil: and I felt asthough I could have laid down my life that hour to save, not Guy, buther, from the dreadful consequences of her own folly,--from that man whohad crushed Guy's heart as he might have crushed a moth.
Then came a dead hush, in which a butterfly's wing might almost havebeen heard to beat. Then, a low murmur, half assent, half dissent.Then, suddenly bursting forth, a cheer that went pealing to the roof,and died away in reverberations along the triforium. The choice wasmade.
And then--I had not dared to look up--I heard Sybil's voice. She wasclose, close beside me.
"Sir Guy de Lusignan," she said, "I choose thee as my lord, and as Lordof the land of Jerusalem; for--" and a slight quiver came into thetriumphant, ringing voice--"whom God hath joined together, let not manput asunder!"
Then I looked up, and saw on my Guy's head the crown of the world, andin Sybil's dear eyes the tender, passionate love-light which she hadlocked out of them for months for love's own sake, and I knew her atlast for the queen of women that she is.
And then----I heard somebody speak my name, and felt Lady Irene's armsclose round me, and darkness came upon me, and I knew no more.
When I came to myself, I was lying
in my own old chamber in the Palace,and beside me were old Marguerite fanning me with a handkerchief, andLady Judith bending over me.
"Helena, darling,--all is well!" she said.
"Is all well?" I said, sadly, when I could speak. "It is well with Guy,and therefore all else matters little. But I wonder if I shall ever beforgiven?"
"By whom?" asked Lady Judith.
"God and Sybil," I answered in a low voice.
"Ask them both," she said softly. "Sybil is coming to thee, as soon asever the banquet is over. And there is no need to wait to ask God."
"Did you guess, holy Mother, how it would end?"
"No, Helena," she answered with a smile. "I knew."
"All along?"
"Yes, from the first."
I lay still and thought.
"Dost thou marvel why I did not tell thee, dear, and perhaps think itcruel? Ask Sybil why she made me her sole confidante. I think thouwilt be satisfied when thou hast heard her reason. But though I did notguess Sybil's purpose,--" and she turned with a smile toMarguerite,--"here, I fancy, is one who did."
"Ay, very soon," said Margot quietly: "but not quite at first, Lady."
"Thou wicked old Marguerite!" cried I. "And never to tell me!"
"Suppose I had been mistaken," she replied. "Would my Damoiselle havethanked me for telling her then?"
I felt quite sufficiently restored to go down to the bower, though notable to bear the banquet. So Lady Judith and I went down. She told meall that had taken place after I fainted: how Messire de Montluc andLady Irene had taken care of me; that the Patriarch had immediatelybestowed the nuptial benediction upon Sybil and Guy, and had thenanointed the King--(the King!)--that the Knights Templars had escortedthe King and Queen to the banquet; and that after the banquet, homagewas to be done by all the nobles. Guy and Sybil, therefore, were likelyto be detained late.
Suddenly something climbed up on the settle, and I felt myself seizedround the neck, and tumultuously caressed.
"Tantine! Tantine!--Come--good! Baba and Tantine--_both_ come.Good!--Oh, good!"
Of course I knew who that was, and alternated between returning the warmkisses, and entreating Agnes not to murder me by suffocation.
Then came a much calmer kiss on my brow, and I looked up at Eschine.
And then strolled in Messire Amaury, with his hands in the pockets ofhis haut-de chausses, talking to Messire de Montluc.
"But the strangest thing, you know"--that sagacious youth wasobserving--"the strangest thing--O Elaine, is that thee!--the strangestthing is that a mere simple, ignorant woman could have formed andcarried out such a project. Surely some man must have given her theidea! I can hardly--Oh, _pure foy_!"
The last exclamation was due to a smart and sudden application of myright hand to the left ear of my respected brother. Messire de Montlucwas convulsed with laughter.
"Well done, Damoiselle Elaine! You regard the honour of your sex."
"The next time thou speakest contemptuously of women," said I, "lookfirst whether any overhear thee."
"Trust me, I will make sure of my sister Elaine," said Amaury, stillrubbing his ear. "On my word, Lynette, thou art a spitfire!"
One after another kept coming, and all expressing pleasure in seeing me.I could not help wondering whether all of them would have been quite sopleased to see Elaine de Lusignan, if she had not been the King'ssister. Lady Judith and Eschine would, I believed. Nor do I think itwould have made the least difference to Agnes. Considerations of thatkind do not begin to affect us till we are over three years old.
But time wore on, and Sybil was not released from her regal duties; andthe strain which both body and mind had had to sustain told upon me, andI began to feel very tired. Lady Judith noticed it.
"Dear Helena," she said, "do put that white face to bed. Sybil willcome to thee."
"I have no right to ask it of her," I said huskily.
"Dost thou think she will wait till thou hast?"
I was beginning to remonstrate that it would not be respectful, whenLady Judith put her arm round me, and said laughingly--"Sir Amaury, helpme to carry this wilful child to bed."
"Fair Mother, I dare not for all the gold in Palestine," said myslanderous brother. "My ear has not done stinging yet."
"Am I wilful?" said I. "Well, then I will do as I am told.--As to thee,Amaury, thou hast just thy desert."
"Then I am a very ill-deserving man," responded he.
Lady Judith and Eschine both came with me to my chamber, and the latterhelped me to undress. I had but just doffed my super-tunic, however,when a slight sound made me turn round towards the door, and I sawSybil,--Sybil, still in her coronation robes, coming towards me withboth hands held out, as she had done that last sad time we met. I threwmyself on the ground before her, and tried to kiss the hem of her goldenrobe. But she would not let me.
"No, no, my darling, no!"
And she stooped and drew me into her arms, and kissed me as if we hadnever disagreed,--as if I had never uttered one of those bitter wordswhich it now made my cheeks burn even to remember.
I could only sob out,--"Forgive me!"
"Dear little sister, forgive thee for loving Guy?"
"No, no!" I said, "but for not loving--for misunderstanding, andslandering, and tormenting thee!"
"Nay, dearest Helena!" she said, at once tenderly and playfully,--"Thoudidst not slander me. It was that other Sybil with whom thou wert soangry,--the Sybil who was not true to her lord, and was about to forsakehim. And I am sure she deserved every word. But that was not I,Helena."
"But how my words must have tortured thee!"
"Not in one light, dear. It was a rich ray of hope and comfort, toknow, through all my pain, how true the dear little sister was toGuy,--what a comfort she was likely to be to him,--that whoever forsookhim, his Lynette would never do it. Now finish thine undressing. Thereis one other thing I want to say to thee, but let me see thee lying atrest first."
She sat down on the settle, just as she was, while Bertrade finishedundressing me. Then they all said "Good night," and left me alone withSybil.
"Helena, darling!" she said, as she sat beside me, my hand clasped inhers,--"this one thing I wish thee to know. I could not spare thee thispain. If the faintest idea of my project had ever occurred to CountRaymond,--though it had been but the shadow of a shade,--it would havebeen fatal. Had he guessed it, I could never have carried it out.[#]And he has eyes like a lynx, and ears like a hare. And, littlesister,--thy face talks! Thou couldst not, try as thou wouldst, havekept that knowledge out of thine eyes. And the Count would have read itthere, with as little trouble as thou wouldst see a picture. The onlychance, therefore, to preserve my crown for my lord, and him for me, wasto leave him and thee in ignorance. Trust me, it cost me more than itdid you!"
[#] The extraordinary item of this series of incidents (which arehistorical) is, that Count Raymond did not guess it.
Ah! had she not said that once before,--"Trust me!" And I had nottrusted her. Yet how well she deserved it!
I hardly know what I sobbed out. I only know that I was fully andundeservedly forgiven, that I was loved through all my mistrust andunworthiness and cruel anger,--and that Sybil knew how I loved her.
Then she left me to rest.
But as I lay there in the darkness, a thought came to me, which seemedto light up the dark wilderness of my life,--as though a lamp had beensuddenly flashed into a hidden chamber.
What if it be just so with God?
And it seemed to me as if He stood there, at the summit of that ladderwhich Monseigneur Saint Jacob was permitted to behold: and He lookeddown on me, with a look tenderer and sweeter even than Sybil's; and Heheld forth His hands to me, as she had done, but in these there were theprints of the cruel nails,--and He said--
"Elaine, I could not spare thee this pain. If I had done, in the end itwould have been worse for thee. Look upon My hands and My feet, and seeif I spared Myself, and, remembering t
hat this was for thy sake, saywhether, if it had been possible, I would not have spared thee!"
I cannot tell whether I was dreaming or awake. But I crept to the footof the ladder, and I said to Him who stood above it--
"Fair Father, Jesu Christ, I put myself in Thy mercy.[#] I see now thatI was foolish and ignorant. It was not that Thou wert cruel. It was notthat Thou didst not care. Thou dost care. At every pang that rent myheart, Thine heart was touched too. Forgive me, for Sybil has done, andI have sinned more against Thee than against her. Teach me in future togive up my will, and to wish only to do Thine."
[#] A rebel, who returned to his allegiance unconditionally, was said to"put himself in the King's mercy."
I am afraid it was a very poor prayer. There was no Angelus norConfiteor--not even an Ave in it. Yet was it all a dream, that a voicesaid to me, "Thy sins are forgiven thee: go in peace"? And I sank intodreamless sleep the next instant.
It is all settled now. Next week, I shall be professed of Lady Judith'sOrder,--an Order which will just suit my wants, since the nuns have noabbess over them, are bound only by terminable vows, and (with assent ofthe community) may dwell where they think fit, even in their own homesif need be.
Lady Judith thinks that she can easily obtain leave for me to dwell withMonseigneur, as she will kindly represent it to the Order that he is nowan old man, and has no wife nor unmarried daughter to care for him butme.
I think he is my first duty now. And I know he will be so glad, soglad!
It will be hard to part with Guy and Sybil. But I think that is wherethe Lord is leading me,--home to Lusignan; and I do wish to follow Hisleading, not my own.
Old Marguerite startled me very much last night.
"Damoiselle," she said, "the cross is shining out at last."
"Where, Margot?" said I, rather puzzled.
"Where I have so longed to see it," she said, "on my darling's brow.Ah, the good God has not brought her through the fire for nothing!Where there used to be pride and mirth in her eyes, there is peace. Hewill let His old servant depart now, for it was all she had to livefor."
But I can never, never do without her! Oh, I do hope the good God willnot take dear old Marguerite. Why, I am only just beginning tounderstand and value her. But I think I am learning, very slowly,--Oh,I am so slow and stupid!--that real happiness lies not in having my way,but in being satisfied with His,--not in trying to make myself happy,but in trying to please Him. I am constantly fancying that I have solearned this lesson that I shall never forget it again. And then,within an hour, I find myself acting as though I had never heard of it.
And I see, too, what I never understood before.--that it is only bytaking our Lord's yoke upon us, and becoming meek and lowly in heart,that we can find rest to our souls. Eschine's deep humility is thesource of her calm endurance. Pride is not peace; it is its antidote.In Christ we have peace,--first through the purchase of His blood, andsecondly, in growing like Him, which is, to grow in love and lowliness,and to lose ourselves in Him.
I think I never before saw the loveliness of humility. And I am sure Inever saw the fair beauty of Eschine's character and life. Oh, how farshe rises above me! And to think that I once looked down uponher--dismissed her with a careless word of scorn, as having "nothing inher"--when the truth was that I was too low down to see her in reality.
Oh, how much the good God has had, and will have, to forgive and bearwith me!
I am now only just beginning to understand Him. But that is a lessonwhich I may go on learning and enjoying for ever. And how happy it willbe, if we all gather together in His halls above,--Guy, and Sybil, andme, and old Marguerite, and Lady Judith, and Monseigneur, and Eschine,and the little children, and all,--never again to hear Paynim cry norwoman's wail,--safe for ever, in the banquet-hall of God.
At home again at last!
How strangely glad they all seem to see me! I do not think I ever knewhow they all loved me. I have lived for myself, and a little for Guy.Now, with His grace, I fain would live for God, and in Him for everyone.
We sat round the centre fire last night in the old hall,--I close toMonseigneur, with his hand upon my shoulder, now and then removed tostroke my hair--and we had all so much to say that it made us verysilent. It was Alix who spoke first.
"Elaine," she said, "I want to give a name to my baby girl that shallmean 'truth' or 'fidelity.' And I do not like any of the French namesthat have those meanings; they are not pretty. Tell me the words forthem in the tongue of the Holy Land."
I did not answer that the Court language of Jerusalem was the Langued'Oc, and that Alix would be no better off for knowing. A rush offeeling came over me, and I let it dictate my reply. And that wasonly--
*"Sybil."*