CHAPTER IX
THE BLOOD-CHASE AND THE LOVE-CHASE
It was by this time high noon, hot and still. Having climbed the ridge,they found themselves at the edge of a dense beech-wood, to which thereappeared no end. From their vantage-ground they could see that the landsloped very gradually away into the distance; upon it the giant treesstood like pillars of a church, whose floor was brown with the wasteand litter of a hundred years. Long alleys of shade stretched out onall sides of them into the dark unknown of Mid-Morgraunt; there seemedeither no way or countless ways before them, and one as good as theother. They rested themselves in sheer bewilderment, ate of the breadand apples which Isoult had brought with her; then Prosper found outhow tired he was.
"Wife," said he, "if all the devils in Christendom were after me itwould not keep me awake. I must sleep for half-an-hour."
"Sleep, sleep, my lord; I will take the watch," said Isoult, longing toserve him.
He unlaced his helm and body-armour without more ado, and laid his headin the girl's lap. She had very cool and soft hands, and now she putone of them upon his forehead for a solace, peering down nervously tosee how he would take such daring from his servant. What she sawcomforted her not a little, indeed she thought herself like to die ofjoy. He wondered again that such delicate little hands should have beenreared on Spurnt Heath, and endured the service of the lowest; it was ahalf-comical content that made him send her a smiling acknowledgment;but she took it for a friendly message between them, and though thelaughter in his eyes brought a mist over hers she was content. Prosperdropped asleep. Through the soft veil of her happiness she watched himpatiently and still as a mouse. She was serving him at last; she coulddare look tenderly at him when he was asleep--and she did. Something ofthe mother, something of the manumitted slave, something of the dumbcreature brought up against a crisis which only speech can maketolerable,--something of these three lay in her wet eyes; she wantedineffably more, but she was happy (she thought). She was not apt tolook further than this, that she was in love, and suffered to serve hermaster. The dull torment of her life past, the doubts or despair whichmight beset and perplex her life to come, were all blurred and stilledby this boon of service, as a rosy mist makes beautiful the space oftime between a day of storms and a dripping night. When the roaring ofthe wind dies down and the sun rays out in a clear pool of heaven, menhave ease and forget their buffetings; they walk abroad to bathe theirvexed souls in the evening calms. So now Isoult la Desirous, with nosoul to speak of, bathed her quickened instincts. She felt at peacewith a world which had used her but ill so long as she was in touchwith all that was noble in it. This glorious youth, this almost god,suffered her to touch his brow, to look at him, to throne his head, toadore him. Oh, wonderful! And as tears are never far from a girl'seyes, and never slow to answer the messages of her heart, so hersflowed freely and quietly as from a brimming well; nor did she checkthem or wish them away, but let them fall where they would until theyencroached upon the privileged hand. _Lese majeste!_ She threw her headback and shook them from her; she was more guarded how she did afterthat.
Then she heard something over the valley below which gave herheart-beats a new tune. A great ado down there, horses, dogs, voices ofmen shouting for more. She guessed in a moment that the foresters hadcome upon the body of Galors, knew that hue-and-cry was now only aquestion of hours, and all her joys at an end. She took her hand fromProsper's forehead, and he awoke then and there, and smiled up at her.
"Lord," said she, "it is time for us to be going, for they have foundDom Galors; and at the Abbey they have many slot-hounds."
"Good, my child," he answered. "I am ready for anything in the world.Let us go."
He got up instantly and armed himself; they mounted their animals andplunged into the great shade of the beeches. All the steering theycould do now was by such hints of the sun as they could glean here andthere. Prosper by himself would have been fogged in a mile, but Isoulthad not lived her fifteen years of wild life for nothing: she had thefox's instinct for an earth, and the hare's for doubling on a trail.The woods spoke to her as they spoke to each other, as they spoke tothe beasts, or the beasts among themselves. What indeed was this poorlittle doubtful wretch but one of those, with a stray itching to bemore? Soul or none, she had an instinct which Prosper discovered andlearned to trust. For the rest of the day she tacitly led theknight-at-arms in the way he should go.
But with all her help they made a slow pace. The forest grew more andmore dense; there seemed no opening, no prospect of an opening. Sheknew what must be in store for them if the Abbot had uncoupled hisbloodhounds, so she strained every nerve in her young body, listened toevery murmur or swish of the trees, every one of the innumerable,inexplicable noises a great wood gives forth. She suffered, indeed,intensely; yet Prosper never knew it. He played upon her, quiteunconsciously, by wondering over the difficulties of the road, theslowness of their going, the probable speed of the Abbot's dogs andforesters, and so on. Her meekness and cheerful diligence delightedhim. The nuns of Gracedieu, he promised himself, should know what alikely novice he was bringing them. He should miss her, _pardieu_!after two or three days' companionship. So they struggled on.
Towards the time of dusk, which was very soon in that gloomy solitude,Isoult heard in the far distance the baying of the dogs, and began totremble, knowing too well what all that meant. Yet she said nothing.Prosper rode on, singing softly to himself as his custom was, his headcarried high, his light and alert look taking in every dark ambush as athing to be conquered--very lordly to look upon. The girl, who hadnever seen his like, adored him, thought him a god; the fact was, shehad no other. Therefore, as one does not lightly warn the blessed gods,she rode silent but quaking by his side, with her ears still on thestrain for the coming danger, and all her mind set on the fear thatProsper would find out. Above all she heard a sound which shocked hermore, her own heart knocking at her side.
Then at last Prosper reined up, listening too. "Hush!" he said, "whatis that?"
This was a new sound, more hasty and murmurous than any girl's heart,and much more dreadful than the music of the still distant hounds; itwas very near, a rushing and pattering sound, as of countless beastsrunning. Isoult knew it.
"Wolves!" she said; "let be, there is no harm from them save in thewinter."
As she spoke a grey bitch-wolf came trotting through the trees, swiftlybut in pain, and breathing very short. She was covered with slaver andred foam, her tongue lolled out at the side of her mouth long andloose, she let blood freely from a wound in the throat, and one of herears was torn and bleeding. She looked neither to right nor left, didnot stay to smell at the scent of the horse; all her pains were spentto keep running. She broke now and again into a rickety canter, but forthe most part trotted straight forward, with many a stumble and missedstep, all picked up with indescribable feverish diligence; and as shewent her blood flowed, and her panting kept pace with her padding feet.So she came and so went, hunted by what followed close upon her; themurmur of the host, the host itself--dogs and bitches in a pack, makinggreat pace. They came on at a gallop, a sea of wolves that surgedrestlessly, yet were one rolling tide. Here and there a grinning headcast up suddenly out of the press seemed like the broken crest of somehastier wave impatient with his fellows; so they snarled, jostled, andsnapped at each other. Then one, playing choragus, would break into ahowl, and there would be a long anthem of howls until the forest rangwith the terror; but the haste, the panting and the padding of feetwere the most dreadful, because incessant; the thrust head would bewhelmed, the sharp voice drowned in howls; the grey tide and thelapping of it never stopped.
The fugitives watched this chase, in which they might have read aparable of their own affair, sweep past them like a bad dream. In thedead hush that followed they heard what was a good deal moresignificant for them, the baying of the dogs.
"What now?" said Prosper to himself, "there are the dogs. If I makehaste they can make it better; if I stay, how on earth shal
l I keep myconvoy out of their teeth?"
It was too late to wonder; even at that moment Isoult gasped and caughtat his arm, leaning from her saddle to cling to him as she had doneonce before. But this was a danger not to be shamed away by a manarmed. He followed her look, and saw the first dog come on with hisnose to the ground. A thought struck him. "Wait," he said.
Sure enough, the great dog hit on the line of the wolves and got theblood in his nostrils. He was puzzled, his tail went like a flag in agale as he nosed it out.
Prosper watched him keenly, it was touch-and-go, but never troubled hisbreath. "Take your choice, friend," he said. The dog beat to and frofor some long minutes. He could not deny himself--he followed thewolves.
"That love-chase is like to be our salvation," said Prosper. "Wait now.Here are some more of the Abbot's friends." It was as good as a play tohim--a hunter; but to Isoult, the wild little outcast, it was deadlywork. Like all her class, she held dogs in more fear than theirmasters. You may cajole a man; to a dog the very attempt at it is adamning proof against you.
As Prosper had predicted, the dogs, coming on by twos and threes, gotentangled in the cross-trail. They hesitated over it, circled about itas the first had done, and like him they followed the hotter andfresher scent. One, however, in a mighty hurry, ran clean through it,and singled out his own again. They saw him coming; in his time he sawthem. He stopped, threw up his head, and bayed a succession of deepbell-notes at them, enough to wake the dead.
"I must deal with this beast," Prosper said. "Leave me to manage him,and stay you here." He dismounted, ungirt his sword, which he gave toIsoult to hold, then began to run through the wood as if he was afraid.This brought the dog on furiously; in fifty yards he was up with hisquarry. Prosper went on running; the dog chose his time, and sprang forhis throat. Prosper, who had been waiting for this, ducked at the sameminute; his dagger was in his hand. He struck upwards at the dog as herose, and ripped his belly open. "That was your last jump, my friend,"quoth he, "but I hope there are no more of you. It is a game that notalways answers."
It was while he was away upon this errand that Isoult thought she saw atall woman in a black cloak half-hidden behind a tree. The woman, shecould have sworn, stood there in the dusk looking fixedly at her; itwas too dark to distinguish anything but the white disk of a face andthe black mass she made in her cloak, yet there was that about her,some rigid aspect of attention, which frightened the girl. She turnedher head for a moment to see Prosper homing, and when she looked againinto the trees there was certainly no woman. She thought she must havefancied it all, and dismissed the thought without saying anything toProsper.
They took up their journey again, safe from dogs for the time. Themusic had died away in the distance; they knew that if the wolf-packwere caught there would be work enough for more hounds than the Abbeycould furnish. Then it grew dark, and Isoult weary and heavy withsleep. She swayed in her saddle.
"Ah," said Prosper, "we will stay here. You shall sleep while I keepwatch."
"It is very still, my lord. Wilt thou not let me watch for a little?"she asked.
Prosper laughed. "There are many things a man's wife can do for him, mydear," he said, "but she cannot fight dogs or men. And she cannot sleepwith one eye open Eat what you have, and then shut your pair of eyes.You are not afraid for me?"
Isoult looked at him quickly. Then she said--"My lord is--," andstopped confused.
"What is thy lord, my girl?" asked he.
"He is good to his servant," she whispered in her low thrilled voice.
They ate what bread was left, and drank a little water. Before all wasfinished Isoult was nodding. Prosper bestirred himself to do the besthe could for her; he collected a heap of dried leaves, laid his cloakupon them, and picked up Isoult to lay her upon the cloak. His armsabout her woke her up. Scarce knowing what she did, dreaming possiblyof her mother, she put up her face towards his; but if Prosper noticedit, no errant mercy from him sent her to bed comforted. He put herdown, covered her about with the cloak, and patted her shoulder with aneasy--"Good-night, my lass." This was cold cheer to the poor girl, whohad to be content with his ministry of the cloak. It was too dark totell if he was looking at her as he stooped; and ah, heavens! whyshould he look at her? The dark closed round his form, stiffly erect,sitting on the root of the great tree which made a tent for them both,and then it claimed her soul. She lost her trouble in sleep; he keptthe watch all night.