The Forest Lovers

  CHAPTER IV

  DOM GALORS

  Next day, as soon as the Countess had departed for High March, theAbbot Richard called Dom Galors, his almoner, into the parlour andtreated him in a very friendly manner, making him sit down in hispresence, and putting fruit and wine before him. This Galors, who Ithink merits some scrutiny, was a bullet-headed, low-browed fellow, tooburly for his monkish frock (which gave him the look of a big boy in apinafore), with the jowl of a master-butcher, and a sullen slack mouth.His look at you, when he raised his eyes from the ground, had the hintof brutality--as if he were naming a price--which women mistake formastery, and adore. But he very rarely crossed eyes with any one; andwith the Abbot he had gained a reputation for astuteness by seldomopening his lips and never shutting his ears. He was therefore a mostvaluable book of reference, which told nothing except to his owner.With all this he was a great rider and loved hunting. His _SursumCorda_ was like a view-holloa, and when he said, _Ite missa est_, youwould have sworn he was crying a stag's death instead of his Saviour's.In matters of gallantry his reputation was risky: it was certain thathe had more than a monk, and suspected that he had less than agentleman should have. The women of Malbank asseverated that venisonwas not his only game. That may or may not have been. The man lovedpower, and may have warred against women for lack of something moredifficult of assault. He was hardly the man to squander himself at thebidding of mere appetite; he was certainly no glutton for anything butoffice. Still, he was not one to deny himself the flutter of the caughtbird in the hand. He had, like most men who make themselves monks bycalculation, a keen eye for a girl's shape, carriage, turn of the head,and other allies of the game she loves and always loses: such thingstickled his fancy when they came over his path; he stooped to takethem, and let them dangle for remembrances, as you string a coin onyour chain to remind you at need of a fortunate voyage. At thisparticular moment he was tempted, for instance, to catch and letdangle. The chance light of some shy eye had touched and then eludedhim. I believe he loved the chase more than the quarry. He knew he mustgo a-hunting from that moment in which the light began to playwill-o'-the-wisp; for action was his meat and dominion what hebreathed. If you wanted to make Galors dangerous you had to set him ona vanishing trail. The girl had been a fool to run, but how was she toknow that?

  To him now spoke the Abbot Richard after this fashion. "Galors," hesaid, "I will speak to you now as to my very self, for if you are notmyself you may be where I sit some day. A young monk who is almoneralready may go far, especially when he is young in religion, but inyears ripe. If you prove to be my other self, you shall go as far asmyself can push you, Galors. Rest assured that the road need not stopat a mitred abbey. In the hope, then, that you may go further, and Iwith you, it is time that I speak my full mind. We have our charter, asyou have seen--and at what cost of sweat and urgency, who can tell sosurely as I? But there, we have it: a great weapon, a lever whereby wemay raise Holy Thorn to a height undreamed of by the abbots of thisrealm, and our two selves (perched on the top of Holy Thorn) yethigher. Yet this charter, gotten for God's greater glory (as He knowethwho readeth hearts!), may not work its appointed way without anapplication which poor and frail men might scarcely dare for any lessobject. There is abroad, Galors, dear brother, a most malignant viper,lurking, as I may say, in the very bosom of Holy Church; warmed there,nesting there, yet fouling the nest, and grinding her tooth that shemay strike at the heart of us, and shiver what hath been so longa-building up. Of that viper you, Galors, are the choseninstrument--you and the charter--to draw the tooth."

  The Abbot spoke in a low voice, and was breathless; it was not hard tosee that he was uncommonly in earnest. Galors turned over in his mindall possible plots against an Abbey's peaceful being--tale-bearing tothe Archbishop, a petition for a Papal Legate, a foreshore trouble, ariot among the fishermen of Wanmouth, some encroachment by the raggedbrethren of Francis and Dominic--and dismissed them all as not seriousenough to lose breath about.

  "Who is your viper, father?" was what he said.

  "It is the girl Isoult of Matt-o'-the-Moor; Isoult whom they call LaDesirous," replied his spiritual father. The heart of Galors gave a hotjump; he knew the girl well enough--too well for her, not well enoughyet for himself. It was precisely to win the woeful beauty of her thathe had set his snares and unleashed his dogs. Did the Abbot knowanything? Impossible; his reference forbad the fear. Was the girlsomething more than a dark woodland elf, a fairy, haggard anddishevelled, whose white shape shining through rags had made his bloodstir? The mask of his face safeguarded him through this maze ofsurmise; nothing out of the depths of him was ever let to ruffle thatdead surface. He commanded his voice to ask, How should he find such agirl? "For," said he, "in Malbank girls and boys swarm like dies on asunny wall." The deceit implied was gross, yet the Abbot took it in hishaste.

  "Thus you shall know her, Galors," he said. "A slim girl, somewhatunder the common size of the country, and overburdened with a curtainof black hair; and a sullen, brooding girl who says little, and thatnakedly and askance; and in a pale face two grey eyes a-burning."

  All this Galors knew better than his Abbot. Now he asked, "But what isher offence, father? For even with power of life and member the law ofthe land has force, that neither man nor maid, witch nor devil, may beput lightly away."

  For this "put away" the Abbot thanked him with a look, and added, thatshe was suspected of witchcraft, seeing Mald her mother was a notoriouswitch, and the wench herself the byword and scorn of all thecountry-side. Sorcery, therefore, or incontinence--"whichever youwill," said he. "Any stick will do to beat a dog with."

  Galors had much to say, but said nothing. There was something behindall this, he was sure, knowing his man by heart. He judged the Abbot tobe bursting with news, and watched him pace the parlour now strugglingwith it. Sure enough the murder was out before he had taken a dozenturns. "Now, Galors," he said, in a new and short vein, "listen to me.I intend to do what I should have done fourteen years ago, when I heldthis girl in my two hands. I let slip my chance, and blame myself forit; but having slipt it indeed, it was gone until this charter of oursbrought it back fresh. You know how we stand here, you and I and theConvent-all of us at the disposition of her ladyship. A great lady, myfriend, and a young one, childless, it is said, without heir of herown. Morgraunt may go to the Crown or Holy Thorn and Gracedieu maydivide it."

  "She may marry again," put in Galors.

  "She is twice a widow," the Abbot snapped him up, and gave his firstshock. "She is twice a widow, once against her will. She will nevermarry again."

  "Then, my father," said Galors, "we should be safe as against theCrown, which the Countess probably loves as little as the rest of herkind."

  "The Countess Isabel," said the Abbot, speaking like an oracle, "is notchildless."

  Galors understood.

  "Do not misunderstand me in this, Brother Galors," said the Abbot. "Wewill do the girl no unnecessary harm. We will slip her out of thecountry if we can get any one to take her. Put it she shall be marriedor hanged." Galors again thought that he understood. The Abbot went on."There shall be no burning, though that were deserved; not eventumbril, though that were little harm to so hot a piece. There shallbe, indeed, that which the Countess believes to have been already-asally at dawn and a flitting. There will then be no harm done. Thetithing will be free of a sucking witch, and the heart of ourbenefactress turned from the child of her sin (for such it was to breaktroth to the earl, and sin she deems it) to the child of her spiritualadoption, to wit, our Holy Thorn." He added "You are in my obedience,Galors. I love you much, and will see to your advancement. You have agreat future. But, my brother, remember this. Between a woman's heartand her conscience there can be no fight. There is, rather, a triumph,wherein the most glorious of the' victor's spoils is that sameconscience, shackled and haled behind the car. That you should know,and on that you must act. Remember you are fighting for Saint Giles ofHoly Thorn, and be speedy while the new tool still bur
ns in your hand."

  So with his blessing he dismissed Dom Galors for the day.