Under the Witches' Moon: A Romantic Tale of Mediaeval Rome

  CHAPTER VII

  A BOWER OF EDEN

  After some hours of much needed rest Tristan started out to findthe Monk of Cluny. The task he had set himself was not one easy ofexecution, since the Benedictine friar was wont to visit the Romansanctuaries following the promptings of the spirit without adhering toa definite routine. Thus the greater part of the day was consumed in afutile quest of him of whose counsel he stood sorely in need.

  At the hour of sunset Tristan set anew upon his quest. His feet carriedhim to a remote region of the city, and when he regained his bearingshe found himself before the convent of Santa Maria del Priorata withits environing groves of oleander and almond trees.

  The moon was floating like a huge pearl of silver through vast seas ofblue. The sleeping flowers were closed, like half-extinguished censers,breathing faint incense on the night's pale brow. From some dark bougha nightingale was shaking down a flood of song. The fountains fromtheir stone basins leaped moonward in the passion of their love andseemed to fall sobbing back to earth. The night air breathed hot andlanguorous across the gardens of the Pincian Mount. Lutes tinkled hereand there. And the magic of the night thrilled Tristan's soul. As in atrance his gaze followed the white figure that was moving noiselesslydown a moss grown path. A thick hedge of laurel concealed her now. Thenshe paused as if she, too, were enraptured by the magic of the night.

  The moon illumined the central lawn and the whispering fountains. Tallcypresses seemed to intensify the shade. In the distance he couldfaintly discern the white balustrade, crowning a terrace where greenalleys wound obscurely beneath the canopy of darkest oak, and moss andviolet made their softest bed. In the very centre of it was a smalldomed temple, a shrine to Love.

  Tristan's senses began to swoon. Was it a hallucination--was itreality? A moon maiden she seemed, made mortal for a night, to teachall comers love in the sacred grove.

  "Hellayne! Hellayne!"

  His voice sounded strange to his own ears.

  As in a dream he saw her come towards him. She came so silent and sopale in the spectral light that he feared lest it was the spectreof his mind that came to meet him. And once more the voice cried"Hellayne!" and then they lay in each other's arms. All her reluctance,all her doubts seemed to have flown at the sound of her name from hislips.

  "Hellayne! Hellayne!" he whispered deliriously, kissing her eyes, herhair, her sweet lips, and folding her so close to him, as if he wouldnever again part from her he loved better than life. "At last I havefound you! How came you here? Speak! Is it indeed yourself, or is itsome mocking spirit that has borrowed your form?"

  And again he kissed her and their eyes held silent commune.

  "It is I who have just refound you!" she whispered, as he lookedenraptured into the sweet girlish face, the face that had not changedsince he had left Avalon, though she seemed to have become morewomanly, and in her eyes lay a pathetic sorrow.

  What a rapture there was in that clear tone. But she trembled as shespoke. Would he understand? Would he believe?

  "But--why--why--are you here?" he stammered.

  "I have sought you long."

  "You have followed me? You are not then a nun?"

  "You see I am not."

  "But why--oh why,--have you done this thing?"

  She made no answer.

  "You are here in Rome--and he is here. And you did not know?"

  "I knew!" she replied with a little nod, like a questioned child.

  "You knew! And he believes that I knew!"

  "That is a small matter, dear. For he knows, that you knew not."

  The endearment startled him. It seemed to cast her faith upon him.

  "What are you doing here?" he said.

  "I came because I had to come! I had no choice--!"

  "No choice! Then why did you send me away?"

  She gave a little shrug.

  "I knew not how much I loved you."

  "And yet, dearest, you cannot remain here. You know his moods betterthan any one else--and you know if he finds us--for your own sake,dearest, you cannot remain."

  In the warmth of his entreaty he had used as endearing words as she.They were precious to her ears.

  "Let him come!" she said, nestling close to him. "Let him come and killme!"

  She glanced about. He pointed to the castellated building that rosedarkly beyond the holm-oaks.

  "Yonder--is yonder your abode?" he stammered.

  Suddenly the woman in her gained the mastery.

  "Oh no! No! No! Let us hide! Wretch that I am, to risk your life withmine."

  She had flung herself upon him. Around them rioted roses in wildprofusion. To him it seemed like a bosquet of Eden. Upon his breast shesobbed. But no consideration of past or present could restrain his handfrom gently soothing her silken hair.

  "Oh, why did you leave me?" she cried. "Why could we not have lovedwithout all this? Surely two souls can love--if love they must--withoutdoing wrong to any one."

  His arms stole about her.

  "Speak to me! Speak to me!" she whispered with upturned face.

  "Had I known that this would happen, I should have known that I didfoolishly," he replied. "You should have known, dearest. You thought tokill our love by cutting it to earth. You have but made its roots growdeeper down into the present and the future!"

  She nodded dreamily.

  "Perchance you speak truth!" she said. "You see me here by your side,having crossed leagues and leagues to seek your soul, my home--my onlyhome forever. And as surely as the bee goes back to its one hallowedoak have I refound you. And as surely as the ocean knows that everybreath of vapor lifted from its face shall some day come back to itsbreast, so surely did you know that your love must return to you."

  "Unless," he said, "it sinks into the unseen springs that are so deepthat they are lost from sight forever."

  "Lost--nothing is lost. The deepest water shall break out some day andreach the lake--the river. Then, why not now? I am one who cannot waitfor eternity."

  "And yet, eternity I fear, is waiting for us!"

  There was a deep silence, lasting apace.

  "Ah, I know," she said at last. "I know I ought to think as you do. Ishould be conscience stricken now, as I was then. I should be glad thatyou left me. But I am not--I am not. I am here, dearest, to ask you ifyou love me still?"--

  "Love you?" he replied in a transport, holding her close, while hecovered her eyes and her upturned face with kisses. "I love you asnever woman was loved--as the night loves the dew in the cups of theupturned flowers--as the nightingale loves the dream that weaves itsphantom webs about her bowers. I love you above everything in heaven oron earth. You knew the answer, dearest. Why did you ask?"

  "I see it in your eyes. You love me still," she crooned, her beautifulwhite arms about his neck, "notwithstanding--"

  He started. And yet, after the scene she had witnessed on that night,her doubts were but too well-founded. Yet she had not queried before.

  "Strange fortunes crossed my path since I came here," he said."Ambition lured--I followed, as one who lost his way. Would you havehad me do otherwise?"

  In his eyes she read the truth. Yet the shadow of that other woman hadcome between them as a phantom.

  "Oh, no,--although I never thought that you were made for statecraft."

  "I am in the service of the Senator. And the Senator of Rome is herfoe."

  "And you?"

  "I am his servant."

  She laughed nervously.

  "I never thought you would come to this, my love."

  "Nor ever should I have thought so. But fate is strange. The HolyFather is imprisoned in the Lateran. To him I wended my way. Butthe only service I did him was to prevent his escape--unwittingly.I visited the sanctuaries. But though prayers hovered on my lips,repentance was not in my heart. And then it came to pass. And I feellike one borne in a bark that has neither sail nor rudder. And if,instead of being far-floated to these Roman shores, I am headed for aport where all is se
curity and peace, can I prevent it? I am borne on!I close my eyes and try to think that Fate has intended it for my good."

  "For your good!" she said bitterly.

  "For yours no less, perchance."

  "How so, dearest? What good can come to me from your soul's security?To me, who believe our love is rightful?"

  "And yet you sent me from you--into darkness--loneliness--despair?"

  She stroked his hair.

  "It was fear as well as conscience that prompted. You once said thatall things are right, that may not be escaped. You said, that if Godwas at the back of all things, all things were pure--"

  "I know I said it! But, what I meant, I know not now. I saw thingsstrangely then."

  "There were days when I, too, lost my vision," she said softly, "when Isaid to myself: there is truth and truth--the higher and the lower. Itwas the higher, if you like to call it so, Tristan, that prompted thedeed. Since then I have come down to earth, and the lower truth, morefit for beings of clay, proclaims my presence here--"

  "What will you do?" he queried anxiously.

  "I know not--I know not! I came here to be with you--without ever athought of meeting him again whom I have wronged--if wronged indeedI have. He has vowed to kill you! Oh, to what a pass have I broughtyou--my love--my love! Let us fly from Rome! Let us leave this city. Hewill never know. And as for me--he but loves me because I am fair tolook upon, and lovable in the eyes of another. What I have suffered inthe silence, in the darkness, you will never know. You shall take mewith you--anywhere will I go--so we shake the dust of this city fromour feet."

  She leapt at him again and flung her arms about his neck, her faceupturned. He had neither will nor power to release himself. He scarcelyhad the strength to speak the words which he knew would stab her to theheart.

  Even ere he spoke she fell away from him as if she had read his mind.

  "So you persuaded him of your repentance," she cried. "You are friendsover the body of your murdered love! And I--who gave all--am leftalone,--the foe of either. It was nobly done."

  He stared at her as if he thought she had gone mad.

  "Listen, Hellayne," he urged, taking her hands in his, in the endeavorto soothe her. "What spirit of evil has whispered this madness intoyour ears? Even just now you said, he has sworn to kill me. How couldthere be reconciliation between Roger de Laval and myself--who love hiswife?"

  "Then what is it?" she queried, her eyes upon his lips as if she werewaiting sentence to be pronounced upon her.

  "I am the Senator's man!"

  The words fell upon her ears like the knell of doom.

  "He will release you! I will go to him--if your pride is greater, thanyour love."

  She was all woman now, deaf to reason and entreaty, thinking of nothingbut her great love of him.

  He drew her down beside him on the marble seat.

  "Listen, Hellayne! You do not understand--you wrong me cruelly. Naughtis there in this world that I would not do to make you happy--you,whose love and happiness are my one concern while life endures. Butthis thing may not be. The Senator of Rome is away on a pilgrimage. Hehas chosen me to watch over this city till his return. Danger lurksabout me in every guise. Its nature I know not. But I do know thatthere is some dark power at work plotting evil. There is one I do nottrust--the Lord Basil."

  Hellayne gave a start.

  "The bosom friend, so it would seem, of the Count Laval."

  The color had left Tristan's face.

  "You have met?"

  "He appears to have taken a great liking to my lord. Almost daily doeshe call, and they seem to have some secret matter between them."

  Tristan gripped Hellayne's hand so fiercely that she hardly suppressedan outcry.

  "Have you surprised any utterance?"

  "Only a name. They thought I was out of earshot."

  "What name?"

  "Theodora!"

  She watched him narrowly as she spoke the word.

  He gave a start.

  "Theodora," Hellayne repeated slowly. "She who saved your life when mypoor efforts failed."

  There was a tinge of bitterness in her tone which did not escapeTristan's ear. Ere he could make reply, she followed it up with thequestion:

  "What is there between you and her?"

  "For aught I know it is some strange whim of the woman, call itinfatuation if you will," he replied, "which, though I have repelledher, still maintains. It was at her feast I first met the Lord Rogerface to face."

  "How came you there?" she questioned with pained voice.

  Tristan recounted the circumstances, concealing nothing from the timeof his arrival in Rome to the present hour. Hellayne listened wearily,but the account he gave seemed rather to irritate than to reconcile herto him, who thus laid bare his heart before her.

  "And so soon was I forgot?" she crooned.

  "Never for a moment were you forgot, my Hellayne," he replied with allthe fervor of persuasion at his command. "At all times have I lovedyou, at all times was your image enshrined in my heart. Theodora isall-powerful in Rome, as was Marozia before her. The magistrates, theofficers of the Senator's court, are her creatures,--Basil no less thanthe rest. Would that the Lord Alberic returned, for the burden he hasplaced upon my shoulders is exceeding heavy. But you, my Hellayne, whatwill you do? I cannot bear the thought of knowing you with him who haswrecked your life, your happiness."

  In Hellayne's blue eyes there was a great pain.

  "Why mind such trifles since you but think of yourself?"

  "You do not understand!" he protested. "Can I with honor abandon thetrust which the Senator has imposed? What if the dreadful thing shouldhappen? What if sudden sedition should sweep his power into the nightof oblivion? Could I stand face to face with him, should he ask: 'Howhave you kept your trust?'"

  Steps were approaching on the greensward.

  Hellayne turned pale and Tristan's arm closed about her, determined todefend her to the death against whosoever should dare intrude.

  Then it was as if some impalpable barrier had arisen between the manand the woman. It seemed the last hard malice of Fate to have broughtthem so near to what was not to be.

  Hardly had Tristan drawn her throbbing bosom to his embrace when a darkshadow fell athwart their path and, looking up, he became aware of aforbidding form that stood hard by, wrapped in a black mantle thatreached to his heels. From under a hood which was drawn over his facetwo beady eyes gleamed with smouldering fire, while the hooked nosegave the face the semblance of a bird of prey, which illusion the cruelmouth did little to dispel.

  Hellayne, too, had seen this phantom of ill omen and was about torelease herself from Tristan's arms, her face white as her robe, whenthe speech of the intruder arrested her movement.

  "A message from the Lady Theodora."

  A hot flush passed over Tristan's face, giving way to a deadlypallor as, hesitating to take the proffered tablet, he replied withill-concealed vexation:

  "Whom does the Lady Theodora honor by sending so ill-favored amessenger?"

  The cowled figure fixed his piercing eyes first upon Tristan then uponHellayne.

  "The Lord Tristan will do well to pay heed to the summons, if he valuesthat which lies nearest his heart."

  But ere he, for whom the message was intended, could take it, Hellaynehad snatched it from the messenger, had broken the seal and devouredits contents by the light of the moon which made the night as bright asday.

  Then, with a shrill laugh, she cast it at Tristan's feet and, ere thelatter could recover himself, both the woman and the messenger had goneand he stood alone in the bosquet of roses, vainly calling the name ofher who had left him without a word to his misery and despair.