CHAPTER XXVI
GUESS-WORK AT GOLTRES
A scud of wind and rain hampered Prosper on his ride over GoltresHeath. The steady increase of both in volume and force kept him at workall day; but towards dusk the wind dropped a little, the clouds splitand drifted in black shreds over a clear sky full of the yellow eveninglight. Just at the twilight he came to a shallow mere edged with reeds,with wild fowl swimming upon it, and others flying swiftly over ontheir way to the nest. At the far end of the lake, but yet in thewater, was a dim castle settling down into the murk. A gaunt shell itwas, rather than a habitable place; its windows were sightless black;only in the towers you could see through them the pale sky behind. Thewind ruffled the mere, little cold waves lapped in the reeds; there wasno other house in sight whichever way you turned. In all the dun wasteof raw and cold it was Goltres or nothing for a night's lodging.
"Galors has been before me again," thought Prosper. "The place is askeleton, the husk of a house. Well, there must be a corner left whichwill keep the rain out. We shall have more before day, if I am anythingof a prophet."
There was a huge bank of cloud to windward; the wind came uneasily, inpuffs, with a smell of rain. Prosper's horse shivered and shook himselffrom head to heels.
"As I live," cried Prosper suddenly, "there is a light in the house."In a high window there was certainly a flickering light. "Where there'sa light there's a man or a woman. Where there's one there is room fortwo. I am for Goltres if I can win a passage."
Riding up the shore of the lake he found an old punt.
"Saracen," said he to his horse, "I shall take to the water. Thou shaltgo thy will this night, and may heaven send thee the luck of thymaster." So saying he unbridled him, took off his saddle and let himgo, himself got into the punt and pushed out over the mere.
The great hulk of Goltres rose threatening above him, fretted by littlewaves, staring down from a hundred empty eyes. He made out a water-gateand drove his punt towards it. It was open. He pushed in, found arotting stair, above it a door which was broken away and hanging by onehinge.
"The welcome, withal free, is cold," quoth Prosper, "but we cannotstand on ceremony. It might be well to make sure of my punt." Hemanoeuvred it under the stair with some trouble, lashed it fore andaft, and entered Goltres by the slippery ascent, addressing himself ashe went to God and Saint Mary the Virgin.
The wooden stair led him into a flagged passage which smelt strongly offungus. He went down this as far as it would go, found a flight ofstone steps with a swing door a-top, pushed up here, and burst into avast hall. It was waste and empty, echoing like a vault, cryingdesolation with all its tongues. There seemed to have been wild work;benches, tables, tressles, chairs, torn up, dismembered and scatteredabroad. There were the ashes of a fire in the midst, some brokenweapons and head-pieces, and many dark patches which looked uncommonlylike blood. Prosper made what haste he could out of this haunted place;the rats scuttled and squeaked as he traversed it from end to end.
Beyond its great folding doors he found another corridor hung with theribbons of arras; in the midst of it a broad stone staircase. Up hewent three steps at a time, and stood in the counter-part of the lowerpassage--a corridor equally flagged, equally gloomy, and smellingequally of damp and death. There were, so far as he could see, opendoors on either side which stretched for what seemed an interminabledistance. But at the far end was the light he was after; he caredlittle how many empty chambers there might be so that there was onetenanted. He started off accordingly in pursuit of the light. Thepassage ran the whole length of the house; the empty doors as he passedthem gave on to bare walls and broken windows. Over many of them hungthick curtains of cobwebs and dust; white fungus cropped in the cracks;the rats seemed everywhere. Now and then he caught sight of a shreddedarras on the walls; in one room a disordered bed; on the floor ofanother a woman's glove. Never a sight of life but rats, and never asound but his own steps, the shrieking of the wind, the rattle of crazywindows.
The door of the lighted chamber was set open. Prosper stood on thethreshold and looked in.
It was a narrow dusty place heaped with books on tables, chairs, andfloor. The lamp which had beaconed him from over the water was ofbrass, and hung from the ceiling by a chain. At the window end sat ayoung man with long yellow hair, which was streaked over his bowedback; he was reading in a Hebrew book. The book was on a reading-stand,and the young man kept his place in it with his thin finger. He seemedshort-sighted to judge by the space betwixt his nose and his book. Byhis side on a little lacquered table was a deepish bowl of dull redporphyry filled with water. Every now and again the young man, havingsecured his place firmly with his finger, would gaze into the bowlthrough a little crystal mace which he kept in his other hand. Then hewould fetch a deep sigh and return to his book.
Beyond the man, his bowl, and his books, Prosper could see little elsein the room. There was, it is true, a shelf full of bottles, andanother full of images; but that was all.
Prosper stepped lightly into the room and laid a hand upon the reader'sshoulder. The young man did not start; he carefully recorded his placebefore he lifted a thin face from his work to his visitor. You wereconscious of an extravagantly peaked nose, like the beak of somewater-fowl, of the wandering glance of two pale eyes, and of littleelse except a mild annoyance.
"What is your pleasure, fair sir?" asked the young man.
"Sir," began Prosper, "I fear I have intruded upon your labours."
"You have," said the young man.
It was an uncompromising beginning. The young man beamed upon him,waiting.
"Nevertheless, sir," Prosper went on, "I am driven to force myself uponyour hospitality for the night. Your house is large and apparentlyroomy. It is dark and wild weather, with a prospect of tempest. I mustsleep here or on the moors."
"Sir," said the other, "you shall be welcome to my poor house, and thatnotwithstanding the last guests I harboured murdered everybody in itbut myself. If it had not been for the intercession of a very charminglady, who has but now left me, I had been dead ere this and unable toplay the host either to her or you. This I say not as casting anyimputation upon you, of whom I am willing to believe as much as, nay,more than, our limited acquaintance may warrant. Regard it rather as myexcuse for affording you little more than a roof."
"By my faith," said Prosper, "I had believed the castle to be desertedor sacked. But I am sorry enough to hear that my foreboding was so nearthe truth."
"It was a certain lord calling himself Galors de Born, he and hiscompany, who did these harms upon my house," the young man explained."Me too he will assuredly murder before many days. Unless indeed thelady of whom I spoke just now should return."
"I think I may say that she will not return, and that it will be betterfor you if she do not. Galors, too, has other fish to fry. But if heshould happen to come, I pray God that I may be by with a company tofight at your back." So Prosper.
"If God hear your prayer, which I should have thought more thandubious," returned his host, "I only hope He may see fit to help you toa company as well, for I have none. And as to fighting at my back, Ipromise you I am a most indifferent leader, being, as you see, somewhatimmersed in other affairs."
Prosper had really very little to say in answer to this. By way ofchanging the talk, he asked if the castle were not Goltres.
"You are quite right, sir," replied the other, "it is Goltres; and I amSpiridion, the lord of Goltres, of a most ancient stock--yet much atyour service."
Prosper bowed to his host, who at once resumed his prying and gazing.This did not suit the other's temper at all, for he was above allthings a sociable soul. So after a minute he cut in again on anothertack.
"You are a great student, fair sir," said he.
"Yes, I am," said the young man.
"Then may I know what it is you search out so diligently, first in thebook, and then in your bowl of water?"
"Most certainly you may," replied his host. "I seek to find out wha
tGod may be."
Prosper grew grave. "I had thought you a student of fishes," said he,"but I find you dive deeper. Yet indeed, sir, for my part I think wehad best be content to love and serve God as best we may, discerningHim chiefly in the voice of honour and in His fair works. Moreover,Holy Church biddeth us nourish a lively faith. Therefore, as I think,the harder our understanding of God is to come at, the more abundantour merit who nevertheless believe."
"That may be so," said the other. "But I can hardly be expected to lovethat which I know not, or to believe that which I cannot express. Andas for Holy Church, what Holy Church may consider I know not; but whenyou speak of discerning God in honour and fair works, I understand you,and take up your argument in this manner. For what you think mosteloquent of God may be a beautiful lady."
"God is truly there for me," said Prosper, and thought of Isoult's goodeyes.
"And for me, fair sir," cried his host kindling, "if all women were aslovely and wise as my friend of late. There indeed was a woman redolentof God."
"Ah, you are out there, sir," said Prosper; "you are terribly out."
The young man smiled. "Look now, my friend, where we are with ourdefinitions," said he. "We divide at the onset. Now, say that insteadof a woman, I found a turnip-field the most adorable thing in theworld. Can we both be right? No, indeed. Now my reading tells me of allthe gods whom men have worshipped--of Klepht and Put and Ra; ofMelkarth also, and Bel; of Moloch, Thammuz, and Astarte (a Phoeniciandeity). I learn next of the gods of Olympus, of those of Rome andEtruria; of the Scandinavians, and of many modern gods. Now eitherthese peoples have made their own gods, in which case I too can makeone; or God hath revealed Himself to some one alone--and then He wouldseem to have dealt ungenerously with the others, equally His creatures,and left blind; or He hath never revealed Himself, which is againstNature; or He is not. These are the questions I would solve, if Galorsgive me time."
"Sir, sir," cried Prosper, "you do but fog yourself to little purpose!But you should live honestly and sanely, going much abroad, and youwould have no doubts."
"My author," said Spiridion calmly, indicating his Hebrew text, "tellsme that there are one-and-thirty different ways of finding God out. Ofwhich crystal-gazing, says he in a famous passage, is the readiest. Butas yet I have not found it so. Maybe I shall try yours another day--ifI have another day."
Whereupon, as if reminded of his delaying, he would have turned againto his work; but Prosper clapped a hand to his shoulder.
"Have done with groping in books, Spiridion," cried he, "and tell me ifyou think this a time for such folly, when your life is threatened byGalors and his riders?"
"It is the time of all times," returned Spiridion; "for if I know notwho is really God of all the host with claims to His rank, how shall Ipray when my visitation comes, or how pray that it come not? It was forlack of this knowledge that my people were murdered the other day. Soyou see that the affair is urgent."
"I think the defence of the house and a long sword would fit your casebetter," said Prosper dryly. "Meanwhile, you must forgive me if Iremind you that I have ridden all day without food or rest, and beg ofyou to afford me one or the other."
"Ten thousand pardons!" said Spiridion, getting up at once, "that mylittle griefs should make me forget your serious claims upon myhospitality. Come, sir, here are bread and olives, here is a flask of avery passable wine--all at your service. Afterwards we will share abed."
They sat on books, and ate what there was. Outside the wind hadfreshened; it buffeted fitfully but fiercely at the window, and camewith dashes of rain. Down the corridor they could hear the casementsswinging and banging, and over all the wind itself roaring through thegreat bare passages as if they had been tunnels.
"A wild night, Spiridion," said Prosper. "And what a night," thoughthe, "for a surprise."
"Wild enough," replied Spiridion, "but I am indifferent to weather,being seldom abroad. How do you find this wine?"
"Excellent," said Prosper, and drained his glass.
"Of this Galors, whom I think you know," Spiridion continued, "I hearbad reports. Not only has he cut the throats of my household, but fromthe account given me by my fair friend (concerning whom," he said witha bow, "we are agreed to differ), I fear he is otherwise of a wild andirregular conversation."
"You are right there, my friend," laughed Prosper.
"If he murders me," the other went on, sipping his wine, "it will be onsome such night as this."
"I have just said as much to myself," Prosper replied; "but I will domy best to prevent him, I assure you."
"You are so courteous a defender, fair sir," said Spiridion, "I couldwish you a more worthy client."
Prosper inwardly agreed with him. Shortly afterwards Spiridion bowedhim to bed. For himself he carefully undressed and put on hisnight-shirt; then, lying down, he was asleep in a moment. The storm wasby this time a gale, the noise of it continuous out doors and in.Prosper judged it expedient to have his arms within reach; the more soas he could not help fancying he had heard the sound of rowlocks on themere. He stripped himself therefore to his doublet and breeches, heapedhis armour by the bedside, slung his shield and sword over the foot,and then lay down by his peaceful companion. He had not forgotteneither to look to the trimming and feeding of the lamp.
Sleep, however, was miles from him in such a pandemonium of noise. Thewind wailed and screamed, the windows volleyed, wainscots creaked,doors rattled on their locks. Sometimes with a shock like athunder-clap the body of the storm hurled against the walls; the greathouse seemed to shudder and groan; then there would be a lull as if thespirits of riot had spent themselves. In one of these pauses Prosperwas pretty sure he heard a step on the stairs. Not at all surprised,for it was just such a night as he would have chosen, he listenedpainfully; but the noise drowned all. Came another moment of recoil, heheard it again, nearer. He got out of bed, went to the door, opened itsilently, and listened. There were certainly movements in the house,feet coming up the stairs; he thought to catch hoarse whisperings, andonce the clang of metal. There was no time to lose, He shut, bolted,and locked the door; then turned to his armour. A swift stepundisguised in the corridor put all beyond question; there was anattack preparing. He had no time to do any more than snatch up shieldand sword, before he saw the flame of a torch under the door and heardthe voices of men.
Prosper stood sword in hand, waiting.
"Spiridion," he said, "wake up!"
Spiridion moaned, stirred a little, and sank again. A high voice calledout--
"Spiridion, thou thin traitor, open the door and deliver up him thouharbourest."
The wind shrieked and mocked; then Spiridion woke up with a shiver.
"The hour is come before my God is ready. Now I must die unknowing,"said he, and sat up in bed with his yellow hair all about his face.
"It is me they seek," said Prosper. "Now then if it will save thee Iwill open and go out to them." He went straight to the door, put hisface against the key-hole, and cried out--"If I come out, will ye saveSpiridion alive?"
There followed a babble of voices speaking all at once; afterwards thesame shrill voice took up his challenge, wailing like thewind--"Spiridion, open the door before we break it in."
Prosper said again--"Will you have me for Spiridion?"
"We will have both, by God," rang a deep note, the voice of Galors.
As if at a signal swords began to batter at the door, pommels andblades. One pierced the panel and struck through on the inside. Prospersnapped it off short. "One less," he said; "but they will soon be donewith it."
"My friend," said Spiridion, who was shivering with cold (hisnight-shirt being over short for the season), "my friend, I must die.What can I do for thee? The time is short."
"Brother," answered Prosper, "get a sword and harness, and I will keepthe door till thou art ready. Then we will open it suddenly, and dowhat becomes us."
"Dear friend," Spiridion said mildly, "I have no sword. And since I amto die, I wil
l die as well in my shirt as in a suit of mail."
"Certainly you are a great fool," said Prosper. "Yet I will defend youas well as I can. Get behind me now, for the door is shaking, andcannot hold out much longer."
Their assailants, without any further speech among themselves, beat atthe door furiously, or with short runs hurtled against it with theirshoulders. It seemed impossible it should stand, yet stand it did. Thenone, Galors, cried suddenly out, "Fetch a hatchet!" and another ranhelter-skelter down the corridor. The rest seemed to be waiting forhim; the battering ceased.
"Here," said Spiridion, standing in his night-shirt before the shelf ofimages, "here are images of Christ on the Cross, of Mahound (made by aMaltese Jew), of Diana of the Ephesians, and Jupiter Ammon. Here too,are a Thammuz wrought in jade, and a cat-faced woman sitting naked in achair. All are gods, and any one of them may be very God. Before whichshould I kneel? For to one I will as surely kneel as I shall surelydie."
Prosper flushed red with annoyance. "Brother," said he, "thou art agreater fool than I thought possible. Die how you will. God knows howlittle of a god am I; but I will do what I can. Hey, now! look about!"he called out the next minute, and leapt back into the room. The doorsplit in the midst and fell apart. Two men fully armed, with theirvizors down, burst into the light; they were upon him in a flash.Prosper up with his shield and drove at them. They were no match forhim with swords, as they very soon found when he penned them back inthe entry. One of the pair, indeed, lost his arm in the first passes ofthe game, but the press of men behind forced them suddenly andviolently forward whether they would or no. Prosper skewered one ofthem like a capon, against his own will, for he knew what must happenof that. Precisely; before he could disengage his weapon two more wereat him in front, and one dodging round behind him with the hatchetslogged at his head with the back of it. Prosper tottered; it was allup with him. Another assailant slipped in under his guard with a pike,which he drove into his ribs. A second stinging blow from the hatchetdropped him. Prone on his face he fell, and never knew of the tramplinghe had from the freed pass.
They cut down and slew Spiridion as he was kneeling in his shirt beforethe crucifix; and then Galors came into the room to see that the workwas done.
Prosper was lying on his face as he had fallen, with a great hole inhis head. Galors suffered a contempt which he could not afford to suchan enemy. He kicked the body. "Rot there, carrion," he said; then, withan after-thought, "No--rot in the water. Throw the pair of them by thewindow," he ordered his men, "and wait outside the gates for, me. Ihave things to do here." This was done.
When he was alone he stripped off all his armour, and put on insteadProsper's equipment. The defaced shield vexed him. Nothing was left ofthe blazon; nothing was left at all but the legend, "_I bide my time._"
"That, is what I will do no longer," said Galors with a heavy oath. "Ihave bided long enough; now, friend Prosper, do you bide yours. As forthe cognizance, I know it very well by this; it shall be on again bythe morning. Then we will see if I can do as Prosper what I have failedto do as Galors."
He headed his troop for Hauterive, reached it before daylight, andended (as he thought) a signal chapter in his progress. As for Prosper,he bided his time with a broken head in Peering Pool.