CHAPTER II
MORGRAUNT, AND A DEAD KNIGHT
Leaving the high road on his right hand, Prosper struck over the heathtowards a solemn beech-wood, which he took to be the very threshold ofMorgraunt. As a fact it was no more than an outstretched finger of itshand, by name Cadnam Thicket. He skirted this place, seeking an entry,but found nothing to suit him for an hour or more. Then at last he cameto a gap in the sandy bank, and saw that a little mossy ride ranstraight in among the trees. He put his horse at the gap, and was sooncantering happily through the wood. Thus he came short upon anadventure. The path ran ahead of him in a tapering vista, but justwhere it should meet in a point it broadened out suddenly so as to makea double bay. The light fell splashing upon this cleared space, and hesaw what he saw.
This was a tall lady, richly dressed in some gauzy purple stuff,dragging a dead man by the heels, and making a very bad business of it.She was dainty to view, her hands and arms shone like white marble; butapart from all this it was clear to Prosper that she lacked the merestrength for the office she had proposed herself. The dead man was notvery tall, but he was too tall for the lady. The roughness of theground, the resistance of the underwood, the incapacity of theperformers, made the procession unseemly.
Prosper, forgetting Brother Bonaccord, quickened his horse to a gallop,and was soon up with the toiling lady. She stopped when she heard himcoming, stood up to wait for him, quick-breathing and a little flushed,and never took her eyes off him.
It was clearly a time for discretion: so much she signalled from herbrown eyes, which were watchful, but by no means timid. He rememberedafterwards that they had been apt to fall easily into set stares, andthus to give her a bold look which seemed to invite you to be boldalso. But though he could not see this now, and though he had no tastefor women, it was certain she was handsome in a profuse way. She had abroad full bust; her skin, dazzling white at the neck, ran into goldenrusset before it reached the burnt splendour of her cheeks; her mouth,rather long and curved up at the corners, had lips rich and crimson; ofwhich, however, the upper was short to a fault, and so curled back asto give her, a pettish or fretful look. Her dark hair, which wasplentiful and drawn low over her ears into a heavy knot at the nape ofher neck, was dressed within a fine gold net. Her arms were bare to theelbow, large and snowy white; from her fingers gems and gold flashed athim. Prosper, who knew nothing whatever about it, judged her midwaybetween thirty and forty. Such was the lady; the man he had no chanceof overlooking, for the other had dropped her handkerchief upon hisface before she left him. "Sir," she now said, in a smooth anddistinguishable voice, when Prosper had saluted her, "you may do me agreat service if you will, which is to carry this dead man to his gravein the wood."
"By the faith I have," Prosper replied, "I will help you all I can. Butwhen we have buried him you shall tell me how he came by his death, andhow it is that his grave is waiting for him."
"I can tell you that at once," she said quickly; "I have but just dugit with a mattock I was so lucky as to find by a stopped earth on thebank yonder. The rest I will gladly acquaint you with by and by. Butfirst let us be rid of him."
Prosper dismounted and went to take up his burden. First of all,however, he deliberately removed the handkerchief and looked it in theface. The dead man lay stiff and staring, with open eyes and a wrymouth. Hands and face were livid, a light froth had gathered on hislips. He looked to have suffered horribly--as much in mind as body: theagony must have bitten deep into him for the final peace of death neverto have come. Now Prosper knew very little of death as yet, save thathe had an idea that he himself would never come to endure it; but heknew enough to be sure that neither battle nor honour had had any parthere. The man had been well-dressed in brown and tawny velvet, wasprobably handsome in a sharp, foreign sort. There was a ring upon hisfinger, a torn badge upon his left breast, with traces of a device inwhite threads which could not be well made out. Puzzling over it,Prosper thought to read three white forms on it--water-bougets,perhaps, or billets--he could not be sure. The whole affair seemed tohim to hold some shameful secret behind: he thought of poison, or thejust visitation of God; but then he thought of the handsome lady, andwas ashamed to see that such a conclusion must involve her in the mess.Pitying, since he could not judge, he lifted the body in his arms andfollowed the lady's lead through the brushwood. At the end of some twohundred yards or more of battling with the boughs, she stopped, andpointed to a pit, with a mattock lying on the heaped earth close by."There is the grave," she said.
"The grave is a shallow grave," said Prosper.
"It is deeper than he was," quoth the lady. There was a ring in thisrather ugly to hear, as all scorn is out of tune with a dead presence.You might as well be contemptuous of a baby. But Prosper was no fool,to think at the wrong time. He laid the body down in the grave, andbusied himself to compose it into some semblance of the rest thereshould be in that bed at least. This was hard to be done, since it wasas stiff as a board, and took time. The lady grew impatient, fidgetedabout, walked up and down, could not stand for a moment: but she saidnothing. At last Prosper stood up by the side of the grave, having donehis best.
"I am no priest," says he, "God knows; but I cannot put a man's bodyinto the earth without in some sort commending his soul. I must do whatI can, and you must pardon an indifferent advocate, as God will."
"If you are advised by me," said the lady, "you will leave that affairwhere it is. The man was worthless."
"We cannot measure his worth, madam: we have no tools for that. Theutmost we can do is to bury part of him, and pray for the other part."
"You speak as a priest whom I had thought a soldier," said she withsome asperity. "If you are what you now seem, I will remind you of asaying which should be familiar--Let the dead bury their dead."
"As I live by bread," Prosper cried out, "I will commend this man'ssoul whither it is going."
"Then I will not listen to you, sir," she answered in a pale fume. "Icannot listen to you."
Prosper grew extremely polite. "Madam, there is surely no need," hesaid. "If you cannot you will not. Moreover, I should in any caseaddress myself elsewhere."
He had folded the dead man's arms over his breast, and shut his eyes.He had wiped his lips. The thing seemed more at peace. So he crossedhimself and began, _In nomine patris_, etc., and then recited the_Paternoster_. This almost exhausted his stock, though it did notsatisfy his aspirations. His words burst from him. "O thou pitifuldead!" he cried out, "go thou where Pity is, in the hope some morselsmay be justly thine. Rest thou there, who wast not restful in thineend, and quitted not willingly thy tenement; rest thou there till thouart called. And when thou art called to give an account of thyself andthine own works, may that which men owe thee be remembered with thatwhich thou dost owe! _Per Christum dominum_," etc.
He bowed his head, crossed himself very piously; then stood still,smiling gently upon the man he knew nothing of, save that he had beenyoung and had lost his race. He did not see the lady; she was, however,near by, not looking at the man at the grave, but first at Prosper andthen at the ground. Her fingers were twisting and tangling together,and her bosom, restless as the sea, rose and fell fitfully. She waspale, save at the lips; like Prosper she smiled, but the smile wasstiff. Prosper set to work with the shovel and soon filled up thegrave. Then he turned to the lady.
"And now, madam, we will talk a little, if you please." He had a cooland level voice; yet it came upon her as if it could have but oneanswer.
She looked at him for some seconds without reply. For his part, Prosperhad kept his eyes fixed equally on her; hers fell first.
She coloured a little as she said-"Very willingly. You have done me aservice for which I am very much in your debt. You shall command me asyou will, and find me ready to recompense you with what I have." Shestopped as if to judge the weight of her words, then went on slowly--"Iknow not, indeed, how could I deny you anything."
Prosper could have seen, if he would, the quickened play of h
er breath.
"Let us go into the open," said he, "and find my horse. Then you shalltell me whence you are, and whither I may speed you, and howsafeliest--with other things proper to be known."
They went together. "My lord," said she then, "my lodging is far fromhere and ill to come by. Nevertheless, I know of a hermitage hard athand where we could rest a little, and thereafter we could find the wayto my house. Will you come with me thither?"
"Whither?" asked Prosper.
"Ah, the hermitage, or wheresoever you will."
Prosper looked steadily at her.
"Tell me the name and condition of the dead man," said he.
"Ranulf de Genlis, a knight of Brittany."
"The badge on his breast was of our blazonry," said Prosper, half tohimself, "and he looked to have been of this side the Southern Sea."
"Do you doubt my word, Sir Knight?"
"Madam, I do not question it. Will you tell, me how he came by hisdeath?"
"I was hunting very early in the morning with my esquires and ladies,and by ill-hap lost them and my way. After many wanderings in search ofeither, I encountered this man now dead, and inquired news of him. Heheld me some time in talk, delayed me with sham diligence, and at lastand, suddenly professed an ardent love for me. I was frightened, for Iwas alone in the wood with him, in a glade not far from here. And itseemed that I had reason, since from words he went on to force andclamour and violence. I had almost succumbed--I know not how to hint atthe fate which threatened me, or guess how long I could have struggledagainst it. He had closed with me, he held me in a vice; then all atonce he loosed hold of me and shuddered. Some seizure or sudden strokeof judgment overtook him, I suppose, so that he fell and lay writhing,with a foam on his lips, as you saw. You may judge," she added, afterwaiting for some comment from Prosper, which did not come, "you mayjudge whether this is a pleasant tale for me to tell, and whether Ishould tell it willingly to any man. For what one attempted against meanother might also try--and not fail."
She stopped and glanced at her companion. The manner in each of themwas changed; the lady was not the scornful beauty she had seemed, whileProsper's youth was dry within him. She seemed a suppliant, he a judge,deliberate. Such a story from such an one would have set him on fire anhour ago; but now his words came sharply from him, whistling like ashrill wind.
"The grave was dug overnight," was what he said.
The lady started and paled. Then she drew a deep breath, and said--"Doyou again doubt my word, sir?"
"I do not question it," he replied as before. It is a fact that he hadnoticed the turned earth by the pit. There was gossamer upon it, butthat said little. Rabbits had been there also, and that said everything.
The lady said nothing more, and in silence they went on until theyreached a fork in the path. Prosper stopped here. One path led north,the other west.
"Here is my road," said he, pointing to the west.
"The hermitage is close by, my lord," urged the lady in a low voice. "Ipray my lord to rest him there."
"That I cannot do," says he.
She affected indignation. "Is it then in the honour of a knight todesert a lonely lady? I am learning strange doctrine, strange chivalry!Farewell, sir. You are young. Maybe you will learn with years that whena lady stoops to beg it is more courtly to forestall her."
Prosper stood leaning on his shield. "The knight's honour," he said,"is in divers holds--in his lady's, in God's, and in the king's. Thesethree fly not always the same flag, but two at least of them should bein pact."
"Ah," said she slyly, "ah, Sir Discreet, I see that you have the ladyfirst."
Prosper grew graver. "I said 'his lady,'" he repeated.
"And could not I, for such service as yours, be your lady, fair sir?"she asked in a very low and troubled voice. "At least I amhere--alone--in the wood--and at your mercy."
Prosper looked straight in front of him, grave, working his mouth.Those who knew him would have gone by the set of his chin. He may havebeen thinking of Brother Bonaccord's prediction, or of the not veryveiled provocation of the lady's remarkable candour. There grew to be arather bleak look in his face, something blenched his blue eyes. Heturned sharply upon the woman, and his voice was like a frost.
"Having slain one man this day," he said, "I should recommend you to bewary how you tread with another."
She stared open-mouthed at him for a full minute and a half. Then,seeing he never winked or budged, she grew frightened and piteous,threw her arms up, turned, and fled up the north path, squealing like awounded rabbit.
Prosper clapped-to his spurs and made after her with his teeth grindingtogether. Very soon, however, he pulled up short. "The man is dead. Lether go for this present. And I am not quite sure. I will bide my time."
That was the motto of the Gais--"I bide my time." He was, nevertheless,perfectly sure in his private mind; but then he was always perfectlysure, and recognized that it was a weakness of his. So the woman wenther way, and he his for that turn...
Riding forward carelessly, with a loose rein, he slept that night inthe woods. Next day he rode fast and long without meeting a livingsoul, and so came at last into Morgraunt Forest, where the trees shutout the light of the day, and very few birds sing. He entered the eastpurlieus in the evening of his fifth day from Starning, and slept in arocky valley. Tall black trees stood all round him, the vanguards ofthe forest host.