X
MARY LAVENDER'S GARDEN
HOW MARY LAVENDER CAME TO BE OF SERVICE TO AN EXILED QUEEN
Mary Lavender lived in a garden. That seems really the best way to sayit. The house of Dame Annis Lavender was hardly more than four wallsand a roof, a green door and two small hooded windows. Instead of thehouse having a garden the garden seemed rather to hold the cottage ina blossomy lap.
A long time ago there had been a castle on the low hill above thecottage. It was a Saxon castle, roughly built of great half-hewn stones,its double walls partly of tramped earth. Nearly a century had passedsince a Norman baron had received the "hundred" in which the castlestood, as a reward for having helped Duke William become William theConqueror. His domain was large enough for a hundred families to liveon, getting their living from the land. The original Saxon owner hadfled to join Hereward at Ely, and he never came back.
This rude Saxon castle was not what the Norman needed, at all. He musthave, if he meant to be safe in this hostile land, a fortress muchharder to take. He chose a taller hill just beyond the village, made ithigher with most of the stone from the old castle, and built there agreat square frowning keep and some smaller towers, with a double wallof stone, topped by battlements, round the brow of the hill, and a ditcharound all. No stream being convenient to fill the moat he left it dry.Here, where the Saxon castle had been, was nothing but a dimpled greenmound, starred over in spring with pink and white baby daisies, andbesprinkled with dwarf buttercups and the little flower that Englishchildren call Blue Eyes. Mary liked to take her distaff there and spin.The old castle had been built to guard a ford. The Normans had made astone bridge at a narrower and deeper point in the river, and Dame Annisand Mary washed linen in the pool above the ford.
The countryside had settled down to the rule of the Normans with hardlymore trouble than the dismantled mound. Travelers often came over thenew bridge and stayed at the inn on their way to or from London, andthere were more than twice as many houses as there had been when Mary'smother was a girl. Older people complained that the country could neverendure so much progress. This was a rather remote region, given overmainly to sheep-grazing. On the great extent of "common" still unfenced,the sheep wandered as they liked, and they often came nibbling aboutMary's feet as she sat on the mound.
There had been a garden about the ancient castle--several, in fact: theherb-garden, the vegetable garden, and a sort of out-door nursery forfruits and berries. The last had been against a southward-facing walland was nearly destroyed; but herbs are tenacious things, and the oldroots had spread into the vegetable patch, and flowers had seededthemselves, until Dame Annis moved into the little cottage and beganto make her living.
Most of the old-fashioned cottage-garden flowers could be found there.Thrift raised its rose-red spikes in crevices of a ruined wall.Bluebells, the wild hyacinths, made heavenly patches of color among thecopses. Great beds of mustard and lavender, in early summer, were likea purple-and-gold mantle flung down upon a field. Presently violetsbloomed in orderly rows in Dame Annis's new herb-garden, and roses werepruned and trimmed and trained over old walls and trees.
It may seem odd that violets and roses should be among herbs. The truthis that very few flowers were cultivated in the early Middle Agessimply for ornament. Violets were used to make perfume. Roses were madeinto rose-water and also into rose conserve, a kind of sweetmeat ofrose-petals, sugar and spice packed in little jars. Marigolds werebrought from the East by returning Crusaders for use in broth.Pennyroyal, feverfew, camomile, parsley, larkspur, and other flowersused to be grown for making medicine. One of the few herbs which growin modern gardens, which the Conqueror found in England when he came,is tansy. The name comes from a Greek word meaning immortality. Tansywas used to preserve meat, and to flavor various dishes. There werealso sage, marjoram, thyme, and many other herbs of which Dame Annisdid not know the names. One of the most precious finds that she made inher digging and transplanting was a root of woad. This plant was usedfor blue dye, and was so much in demand that England did not produceenough and had to import it. It was too valuable for her to use itherself; she cherished it and fed the soil, planting every seed,promising Mary that some day she should have a gown dyed watchet blue,of linen from their own flax. Mary was thinking about that gown as shesat spinning and listening to the hum of the bees. She knew exactly howit would be made from beginning to end.
The flax would be soaked in the brook until the strong stem-fibers wereall that were left; it would be hackled and washed and spun and finallywoven by their neighbor, Dame Garland, for Mary's mother had no loom.This neighbor was as poor as themselves, but they would pay her in herbsand dyestuffs. The leaves--not the flowers, which were yellow--from thewoad, would be crushed into a paste and allowed to ferment, and finallymade into little balls that would keep until needed.
Neither perfume nor dye could be bought in shops thereabouts, and therewere no factories anywhere for making either. Dame Lavender had been,before she was married, maid to a great lady who had taught her womenhow to make such things out of the plants in the castle garden. Now,when her husband failed to come back from the wars in France, sheturned to the perfumer's trade as the one which she knew best.
There are a great many ways of making perfume at home. If she had hada still, Dame Lavender could have made almost any sort of ordinaryperfume, flavor or medicine. In this process, a mixture of blossoms,spices and drugs, or the blossoms alone, or the leaves, is cooked in aglass bottle called a retort, with a long glass tube fitted to it sothat the steam must pass through the tube and cool in little drops.These drops run out into a glass flask and are the perfume. Another waywas to gather flowers when perfectly fresh and put them into a kettleof alcohol, which would take up the scent and keep it after the flowersare taken out. Strong-scented flowers or leaves were put with salve ina jar and covered, to perfume the salve. Dried plants of pleasantfragrance, mixed with salve, could be left until the scent had beentaken up, then the whole could be melted and strained to remove theherbs. Each herb and flower had to be gathered at the proper time, anddried in the little attic. With this business, and the honey which thebees made, and the spinning done by both mother and daughter, theymanaged to make a living.
One day when they were at their busiest an old man came to the door andasked for a night's lodging. He had a gentle way of speaking, althoughhis cloak was threadbare, and he seemed much interested in their work.He knew some of the plants which they had never been able to name, andtold what they were good for. He seemed so old, poor and feeble, thatalthough she really needed all the money she could earn, Dame Lavenderrefused the coin he offered her. She felt that if he fell ill somewhere,he might need it.
The Norman castle on the hill had not been really lived in for some tenyears. There was a company of soldiers in it, with two or three knightswho came and went, but that was all. It had been built as a fortress,and was one; and the situation was such that it could not easily bemade into anything else. The baron who owned it was in attendance uponthe King.
Then, one day, a rumor went floating about the village, like the scentof growing hedges in spring. It was said that the castle was to be setin order for some great lady; and that she would bring with her two orthree maids perhaps, but most of the work was to be done by the peopleof the village. This was rather mystifying. Mary wondered why a greatlady should not rather choose to stay at the nunnery, where the LadyAbbess had all things seemly and well-planned. It was an old Saxonreligious house and not at all rich; but Mary always liked to have anerrand up Minchen Lane. The lane had got its name from the nuns, whowere called "minchens" a long while ago. Sometimes they sent to getsome roots or plants from the garden of Dame Lavender. She had somekinds that they had not.
It was nearly certain, at any rate, that the housekeeper at the castlewould want lavender and violets, and Dame Annis told Mary to get thebesom and sweep out the still-room. This was a shed with a stone floor,the only room they had which was not used for living or sl
eeping. Theroom they had given their strange guest, Tomaso of Padua as he calledhimself, was the one where Mary and her mother usually slept, and theyhad made up a pallet in the attic.
Mary worked briskly with her besom. It was just such a broom as Englishpeople still use to sweep garden walks, a bundle of twigs tied on astick handle with a pliant osier. While she was at work she heard thegate shut, and saw old Tomaso coming in.
It cannot be said that she was exactly glad to see him. She felt thatthey might have all that they could do without a lodger just then. Shespoke to him courteously, however, and he smiled as if he read herthoughts.
"I have not come to ask for your hospitality this time," he said,"but to bring your good mother something in return for her kindness."Beckoning to a boy who stood outside, he opened the gate, and the boyled in a little donkey laden with the basket-work saddle-bags calledpaniers. From these Tomaso took all the parts of a still, some fineearthen and glass jars, flasks and bowls, and bundles of spice whichwere like a whole garden packed into a basket.
"These," he said, "will be of assistance to your mother in her work. Isee her coming now, and I will talk with her awhile."
Mary felt as if the earth had turned inside out when she heard theoutcome of that conversation. The lady who was coming to the castlewas Eleanor of Aquitaine, Queen of England, and her coming was aconsiderable responsibility to every one concerned. She had been foundjust ready to join her sons, Richard and Geoffrey, in Aquitaine, wherethey were fighting against their father, and she was to be shut upin this remote fortress, in charge of one of the King's most trustedknights, until he had disposed of the rebellion and had time to considerthe case. She would not, she declared, spend her days in a nunnery,and the nuns of Minchen Lane were anything but anxious to have her.There was a room in the Norman castle which could be fitted up as astill-room, and it was desirable to have whatever was needed made withinthe walls if possible. Would Mary undertake to go there and make herselfuseful, either in ways that might aid the cook, or in any other dutiesthat she saw? The cook was an Italian. The maids of honor were daughtersof Norman-French families. Barbara Edrupt, the wife of the wool-merchantwho owned Longley Farm, was also, it appeared, going to lend a hand withthe spinning and train one or two country girls for the rough work. Itwas no small task to maintain a royal lady in fitting state, even thoughshe was a prisoner. It was more difficult here because there was littleor nothing to do it with, and peddlers, merchants and other purveyorsfrom distant London or Paris might be a source of danger.
Dame Annis Lavender was rather doubtful, but she had confidence in Mary,and it was settled that Mary should go. She was to have the gown of bluesooner than she thought. The flax was already spun, Dame Garland did theweaving, and she and Mary's mother dipped and dipped again until the webwas a deep exquisite blue like a summer sky. Barbara made Mary a gift ofa fair white linen cap and kerchief. The two girls, Barbara with herblack eyes and hair, Mary with her gold-brown braids and calm blue eyesand wild-rose coloring, made a pretty picture together.
So at least thought the troubadour who came riding by and saw them. Hewas in attendance upon the castellan, Thibaut of Toulouse, and a littlegroup of maids and pages coming to make ready for the Queen, who wasexpected to arrive the next day. Thibaut's wife had been a Provencallady, and his daughter Philippa, by whose side the troubadour wasriding, was a trifle homesick for her childhood speech. She was veryglad of Ranulph's company.
As they came past the garden she bent sidewise in her saddle and lookedeagerly toward the gate. "Do you see--there?" she cried. "That is aProvence rose."
"I will bring you some," the troubadour answered, and a moment later hewas striding toward the two girls among the flowers. They had never seenany one like him,--so gay, so courteous and so straightforward.
"I come to beg a rose," he said. "Are not these the red roses ofProvence?"
"Surely," answered Barbara. "I brought the bush from my own home, andgave Mary a cutting. There never was such a rose for bloom andsweetness, we think. My husband he says so too."
Barbara blushed and smiled a little when she spoke of Robert, and sheand Mary quickly filled a basket with the roses. The next morningRanulph came again with the Provencal maid of honor to get more flowers,and "strowing herbs,"--sweet-scented plants that gave out theirfragrance when trodden upon. The rushes used for floor-covering wereoften mixed with these on festival days, and when new rushes were to beput down the whole might be swept into the fire and burned. The maids ofhonor made garlands for the wall, and thus the first breath of air theQueen drew in her grim, small stone rooms high in the castle keep, wasladen with the scent of the blossoms of the South.
It was a cheerless abode, Mary and Barbara thought. There were nohangings, no costly dishes nor candlesticks, no weapons or anything thatcould be made into a weapon, nor any jewels or rich clothing.
Mary wondered a little that certain richly embroidered tapestries whichbelonged to the nuns had not been borrowed, for she knew that the LadyAbbess had lent them now and then. Philippa could have told her.
"It is well," said the Queen haughtily when she had seen her apartments,"that they have given me no gold-woven arras for my prison. I think Iwould burn it for the gold--if any of these jailers of mine could bebought perchance."
The captivity of the royal prisoner was not, however, very severe. Shesometimes rode out under guard, she was allowed to walk upon the terraceand in the walled garden, and she talked sometimes with the troubadourand with old Tomaso. In one of the older towers of the castle thephysician had his rooms, and here he read in ancient books, or brewedodd mixtures in his retorts and crucibles. He taught Mary more about themanagement of a still, the use of herbs and the making of essences thanshe had ever dreamed there was to learn. Physicians in those days mightbe quacks or alchemists. Here and there one was what we call anexperimental chemist. Nearly a hundred years later some of Tomaso'spapers proved most valuable to the University of Padua.
XXII
COCKATRICE EGGS
HOW TOMASO THE PHYSICIAN AND BASIL THE SCRIBE HELD THE KEYS OF EMPIRE
Brother Basil and Tomaso of Padua sat in the glass-house crypt, with anoaken chest heavily bound with iron between them. It had been broughtin, and the ropes about it loosened, by sweating varlets who looked withawe at the crucibles, retorts, mortars, braziers, furnaces, beakers andother paraphernalia of what they believed to be alchemy. They had notagreed about the contents of that coffer. Samkin held that it was tooheavy to be anything but gold. Hob maintained that if these wise mencould make gold there was no point in sending them a chest full. TomDowgate ended the argument by inquiring which of them had ever handledgold enough to judge its weight, and reminding them of the weight ofa millstone when tugged up hill.
It was gold, however. When doors were bolted and windows shuttered thetwo philosophers remained silent for a few moments, Tomaso stroking hiswhite beard, Brother Basil fingering his rosary. Then the Paduan reachedforward and tilted back the lid. Under a layer of parchment, leather andtow scraps used for packing, the bezants lay snug and orderly beneath,shining significantly in the light of the bronze lamp. There was coinenough in that chest to turn the scale, perhaps, in the next war inChristendom,--so the Chancellor had said when he saw it go.
Brother Basil weighed one of the bright new-minted pieces on hisfinger-end, thoughtfully.
"I wonder what this bit of metal will do in England," he mused."Strange--that a thing so easily destroyed should have such power overthe hearts of men."
"It is like a Devil," said the unperturbed physician. "He does not comeinside a man's heart unless he is invited. Gold as you will employ itmeans the upbuilding of those crafts that make men--not serfs. We shallmake our treasure instead of hiring troopers to steal it, if yourschools prosper."
Brother Basil sighed. "I hope so. It is hard to see pages of pricelesswisdom, scribed and illumined by loving and patient labor, scattered tothe winds in the sack of a town. It made my soul ache to hear the monksof Irelan
d speak of the past. I believe that the King means to protectthe Irish Abbeys, but this is a hard age for a peacemaker."
"The Plantagenets were never scantly supplied with brains," observedTomaso dryly. "I think, myself, that the King will use the sword only toenforce the law, and that the robber barons are going to have a sad timeof it henceforth. Perhaps Henry is more in tune with the age than youthink. Frederick Barbarossa is coming to grips with the Lombard cities,and it will be mailed knight against Commune this time. Meanwhile, letus get to work."
The gold was unpacked and hidden safely in the hollow of the wall behindthe turning stone. When the younger men arrived the chest was carriedup the narrow stair and refilled with various precious or fragile thingswhich it was well to have out of the way. The furnaces were set alightand the working day began.
A fairy spell seemed to possess the fires and the crucibles. BrotherBasil, working at a medallion of enamel, gave a delighted exclamation ashe held up the finished work. The red roses of Saint Dorothea were likeelfin blossoms.
"The saint herself might have come from Alexandria to help us," he said.
Guy, who never spared trouble, had been finishing a chalice begun beforehis recent journey to the south. Even the critical eye of the Abbotfound no flaw in its beauty. The little group of artists had worked freefrom the Oriental stiffness and unreality of their first models. Theirdesigns were conventional, but the working out was like the quaintlyformal primness of wild flowers in garlands. The traditional shape mightbe much the same, but there was a living freshness and grace, a richnessof color and strength of line, which were an improvement on the model.
Alan, who seldom talked of an idea until he had tried it out, betookhimself to a corner and began doing odd things with his blowpipe. Theothers went to work on a reliquary, and paid no attention to him untiltheir work was well under way. Then there was a chorus of admiration.The sheet of glass just ready for the annealing was of the true heavenlyazure that Brother Basil had tried in vain to get.
"You kept the rule, I hope?" inquired the monk with some anxiety. "Wecannot lose that glass now that we have it."
Alan shifted from one foot to the other. "It wasn't my rule,--that is,not all of it," he answered bluntly. "I read a part on this torn pagehere, and it seemed to me that I might work out the rest by this," heshowed a chalked formula on the wall. "I tried it, and it came right."
Tomaso caught up the scrap of parchment. "What?" he said sharply. "Wheredid this come from?"
It was a piece that had been used for the packing of the gold. Parchmentwas not cheap, and all the bits had been swept into a basket. Althoughcovered with writing, they could be scraped clean and used again. ThePaduan bent over the rubbish and picked out fragment after fragment,comparing them with keen interest.
"No harm is done," he said as he met Alan's troubled gaze, "there may besomething else worth keeping here. At any rate you shall make more blueglass. Keep the formula safe and secret."
There are days in all men's work which are remembered while memoryendures--hours when the inspiration of a new thought is like a song ofgladness, and the mind forgets the drag of past failure. The littlegroup in the Abbey glass-house and the adjoining rooms where thegoldsmiths worked, were possessed by this mood of delight. Thechalice that Guy had finished, the deep azure glass and the reliquaryrepresented more real achievement than they had to show for any day inthe past six months. There was just the difference that separates theperfect from the not quite perfect. Their dreams were coming true.
The young men walked over the fields to supper at the Abbey farm, asusual, and Dame Cicely, as usual, stood in the door to greet them.
"'AND THERE GOES WHAT WOULD SEAT THE KING OF ENGLAND ONTHE THRONE OF THE CAESARS,' QUOTH TOMASO"--_Page 291_]
"How goes the work, lads?" she asked, and then caught Alan by theshoulder, crying, "No need to answer. I know by the face on thee. Whathast been doing to make it shine so?"
"Only finished a piece o' work, mother," said Padraig with a grin. "Ittakes some men a long time to do that. If they would bide just this sideof a masterpiece they'd save 'emselves trouble. But they will spend alltheir force on the last step."
"Aye," said Alan, "better leap clean over the Strid while you're aboutit."
And for once Padraig had no more to say.
Oddly enough Brother Basil also thought of the Strid that night--thedeep and dangerous whirlpool in the grim North Country had haunted himever since he saw it. He and Tomaso came back, after dark, to the crypt,and spread out the torn manuscripts by the light of two flambeaux in thewall. None of the pages were whole, and the script was in Latin, Arabic,Greek and Italian, and not all in the same handwriting. Both believedthat in searching the heap for secrets of their arts they had stumbledon something dangerous.
"I believe I know where these came from," Tomaso said, when they hadpatched together three or four pages. "They are part of the scripts ofArchiater of Byzantium, who was taken for a wizard in Goslar ten yearsago. I thought that all his books were burned. There was talk enoughabout it."
"But what are these prescriptions?" asked the monk, puzzled.
"You would know by this time," said the Paduan grimly, "if thatflame-crested imp of yours, Padraig, had been the one to experiment. Byfollowing the directions on this bit of vellum he might have blown usall into the other world. Luckily only three of these formulae are ofthat nature. The others are quite safe for your young disciples to playwith. But these we will keep to ourselves." He laid a stained brownishpiece of sheepskin apart from the others and two smaller ones beside it."These are directions for the manufacture of aqua regia, Spanish gold,and something which Archiater called Apples of Sodom. Of a certaintythey are fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, those apples."
Brother Basil had lost color. This really was a trifle too nearnecromancy to be pleasant. Spanish gold was a Saracen invention, saidto be made of most unholy materials, and he had heard of a wizard beingcarried bodily off on the wind after dealing in the others.
"We will carry on our experiments," Tomaso continued, "in the cellarsof my tower, if you please. The young ones will be only too glad to berid of us. If any one meddled here we should risk all we have doneand the lives of our pupils. If we make any blunders working byourselves--well--I sometimes think that I have lived a long timealready."
The disciples were too well trained to ask any questions, but they weresomewhat mystified by the proceedings which ensued. An undergroundchamber straitly walled in with masonry was fitted up, and the smellsthat clung to the garments of Brother Basil when he emerged were morelike brimstone than anything else. Tomaso was never seen at all.Meanwhile the newly discovered formulae for glass and enamel work hadbeen turned over to the workers in the glass-house, with permission tobuy whatever material was needed. Padraig and Guy went to London, andcame back with precious packets of rare gums, dyes, minerals, oils andsalts, not to be found or made at the Abbey.
Meanwhile the monk and the physician worked with absorbed intentness attheir crucibles and stills. There was a slight explosion one evening,and a country lout of the neighborhood told of it. Next day aneighboring farmer ventured to ask Padraig what was going on in theruined tower.
"Why," said Padraig soberly, "we are raising a brood of hobgoblins forthe King. Did ye not know?"
The making of sulphuric acid, nitric acid and their compounds would havebeen risky business in any age, with the primitive apparatus that thetwo investigators had. They were furthermore made cautious by the factthat they did not know what might happen if they made the least error.It was midnight after a long and nerve-racking day when they becamesatisfied that they had the secrets of at least three perilous mixturesin the hollow of their hands.
"I think the King would give seven such chests as the one he sent, if heknew what we know," said Brother Basil musingly.
"He has the value of that chest already, in the rose window and thegreat window, the monstrance, the chalice and the cups," Tomasoanswered, his sense of money values un
dimmed. "They are as good in theirway as Limoges itself can do."
"I wish that we had tidings from London," said the monk thoughtfully."If Lombardy loses in this war the Emperor will not stop there. He hassaid that he will obey no Pope on earth, only Saint Peter and theothers in heaven. He is neither to hold nor to bind, that man."
"Henry does not want to fight--that is certain," said Tomaso. "Hedesires only to keep for his children what he has already--Anjou,Normandy, Aquitaine; and most of all England. It would take a greaterthan the Conqueror to rob the Plantagenets of this kingdom."
"What do you think will happen in Lombardy?" asked the other.
"The League of Lombard cities will fight to the death," said Tomasoquietly. "The Communes are fighting for their lives, and cornered wolvesare fierce. Neither Sicily nor France is on Frederick's side, althoughthey may be, if he wins. If he can get Henry the Lion of Saxony to fightunder his banner, it may turn the scale."
"And Henry the Lion married our Henry's daughter Matilda," said BrotherBasil. Tomaso nodded.
"Without Saxony," the Paduan added, "I know that not more than twothousand men will follow Barbarossa into Italy, and not more than halfare mailed knights. The Lombard army is more or less light cavalryand infantry. Here in this cellar we have such weapons as no Kinghas dreamed of--blazing leaping serpents, metal-devouring andpoison-breathing spirits, pomegranates full of the seeds of destruction.These--in the hands of the Communes----"
"Would turn Christendom into the kingdom of Satan," said Brother Basilas the physician paused. "If we were to give the secret to Henry'sclerks, or even if we ourselves handled the work in London Tower, howlong would it be before treachery or thievery carried it overseas? Arewe to spread ruin over the world?"
"I thought you would see it as I did," said Tomaso smiling.
The ground vibrated to the tread of hoofs, and a horn sounded outsidethe window.
"That is Ranulph," said Tomaso. "I thought he might come to-night. Hewill have news."
As Ranulph came up the path, travel-dusty and weary, lights twinkled outin the Abbey and the Abbey Farm.
"The Emperor has lost," said the troubadour. "There was a battle atLegnano, and the German knights scattered the Italian cavalry at thefirst onset, but when they met the infantry massed about the Carocchiothey broke. The Emperor was wounded and fled. Without Henry of Saxonythe battle was lost before it began. They say that there will be atreaty at Venice. The Communes have won."
"Come here, my son," said Tomaso, turning back into the tower. "We havefound an armory of new and deadly weapons. You have heard of Archiater'sapples? We can make them. Shall we give the Plantagenets to eat of theTree of Knowledge?"
Ranulph's eyes darkened and narrowed. His quick mind leaped forward tothe consequences of such a revelation.
"No," he answered. "Too much evil ambition lives among Normans. It mightbe safe with the King--and maybe with Richard, for he loves chivalry andknightly honor--but John loves nothing but his own will. Let us havepeace in Christendom while we can."
"Shall we burn the parchment then?" asked Brother Basil.
"Nay--keep it in cipher. Let a few trusted men know the key."
"We will trust our lads," Brother Basil said. "Let us ask them."
Alan and Padraig, Wilfrid, Guy, and David, came up the path. BrotherBasil explained the discovery. They had already heard the news of theLombard victory from Giovanni, who had ridden with the troubadour andstopped at the Abbey Farm.
"What shall we do with these mysteries?" Tomaso asked, holding out oneof the deadly little grenades. "You must remember that some one else mayfind out the secret without our help. It is true that the man who didwould risk being burned for a wizard in some places; still, there islittle that men will not dare in the search for knowledge."
"Let them find it out then," spoke Padraig in sudden heat. "We have hadenough of war in our time. Let us kill this cockatrice in the egg."
"These would pay some debts,"--Alan's hard young North-country face grewstern. He was thinking of tales which Angelo had told him in hisboyhood.
"God can pay debts without money," said Brother Basil gently.
"We are not ready," Guy averred. "We need time to train men and to letthe land breathe. After that it may be safe to use the secret--not now."
"That cat's best in a sack," David commented shrewdly.
"Padraig is right," said Wilfrid. "We have had enough of war in ourtime. We will keep this monster prisoned."
They came to an agreement. Padraig was to make copies in cipher of theformulae. After ten years, or on his deathbed should he die within thattime, each might give the master-words and the rules to some comrade whocould be trusted. They were all to swear never to use their knowledgefor gain, or ambition, or vanity, but for the good of their craft, theglory of God and the honor of the land.
"Before we destroy that which we have made," said Brother Basil, "wewill show you in part what it can do."
Metals dissolved like wet salt. Wood and leather were bitten through asby gnawing rats. A fire was kindled on the old tower, and a cone-likeswarm of giant wasps of fire went spluttering and boiling up into thedarkness. The apples of Sodom were planted under a troublesome ledge ofrock, and reduced it to rubble.
"And there goes what would seat the King of England on the throne of theCaesars," quoth Tomaso. The last wavering flare was dying into the night,and he stood with Ranulph and Padraig on the top of the tower, under thestars.
"He might have sat there before, if he had chosen," mused Ranulph.Padraig was silent. Matteo had fallen beside the Carocchio, and hisheart was sad.
Tomaso laid a hand on Ranulph's shoulder.
"An empire is a forest of slow nurture, beloved of my soul," he saidgently, "and it does--not--grow--by--conflagrations."
Transcriber's Notes:
The following corrections have been made: On page 46/47 two paragraphs were joined together. (He answered, a trifle defiantly, "Perhaps I do.) On page 239 the quotation marks were moved from the end of the stanza to the beginning of the next, (Take a chance for Belphoebe's fame!) ("They live in Valhalla). Spelling and pagenumbers in the Tables of Contents and Illustrations, and in the captions, have been corrected to match the rest of the book.
Otherwise the original has been preserved, including archaic, unusual and inconsistent spelling, especially in the poems, and inconsistent hyphenation.
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