CHAPTER XXXVI.
LOVERS PLOTTING.
"Good-night, good-night; parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good-night, till it be morrow."
Shakespeare.
The day appointed for Alice's ill-starred nuptials draws near withill-omened celerity. Anxious consultations and meetings at thetrysting-place with her Saxon lover become most frequent as the fatalday approaches. To-night, as she climbs the rough stone stairs whichlead to the tower, her heart seems to grow lighter in the toilsomeascent. When she reaches the top night has already asserted its swayover the face of nature, and deep silence broods solemnly everywherearound. On the turret she paces to and fro in deep meditation, whilstoccasionally she steps upon the stone platform and peers anxiouslytowards the adjacent wood, and waves her handkerchief. But the night isdark, and she knows not whether any one is there to heed her signal.Then she steps down and listens at the head of the stair for the soundof the welcome footsteps. Though this most serious and portentous crisisin her life is approaching, and dark-browed Fate seems from day to dayto frown more darkly upon her path, and though she recognises mostvividly the perilousness of the enterprise which Oswald is entering uponfor her deliverance, yet to-night none but pleasant thoughts dancethrough her mind, and ever and anon also pleasant smiles persist inwreathing her countenance in sweet hopefulness, for she conjures up somepleasing dream of a possible escape from the dreaded union designed forher. But the wonderful secret of this hopeful spirit is this: herchampion, the Saxon chieftain, will be here to-night. Here it must beconfessed was the chief inspiration of those pleasant thoughts andpleasant smiles. When he was nigh fear and doubt and dismay neveroppressed her. But alas! this buoyancy of hopefulness was just as surelyfollowed by cruel depression of spirit, and a dread sense of lonelinessand helplessness, when he was far away--when the hated presence ofVigneau was obtruded upon her especially. Worst of all, as the appointedtime of marriage drew near, he presumed more and more to thrust himselfupon her; and she must needs hide, as best she could, the feelings ofabhorrence and deep loathing with which she regarded him. She had cometo see the futility of resistance, and of manifesting dislike to him;for she had no hope that he would abate one jot of his determination toforce the fulfilment of this marriage contract.
Presently, as she listens, a feeble grating sound strikes her ear, andshe strains anxiously to hear further. Soon a distinct sound of movementin the winding stair is heard. She rushes to the spot where the stepsreach the platform of the tower, and anxiously peers into the darkbeneath. One moment more and Oswald clasps her to his heart.
"Ah, you lonely watcher," said he, tremulous with emotion. "How longhave you been waiting here alone? are you not afraid to watch here inthe darkness?"
"I am not afraid to-night, dearest. I am only a woman, you know, with awoman's weakness; but I have always fortitude enough to dare anythingfor you. Why should I be afraid of darkness, which is only God'scoverlet, drawn with infinite gentleness over tired and sleepingnature?"
"Ah! there is a good angel watching over you, Alice dear, whether 'tisdark or light, and whether I am near or far. So be of good courage."
"I have faith in God, and I have faith in my Saxon lover; but alas! myheart fails me often as the fateful day draws nigh. Sometimes I amalmost paralysed with fear, lest some cruel fate should, after all, doomme to a hated meeting of Vigneau at the altar; but I have a littlefriend which I keep sharp and bright, and there is a step beyond which Igo no farther with him."
"Hush, dearest! such thoughts are cruel; that dreadful alternative youwill never resort to. Vigneau, in his gross attempt to force your hand,in the face of earth and heaven, will rush upon a fate he recks not of,but which he richly merits. No more of this, dearest; this hour we willdedicate to more welcome topics. So a truce to all unpleasant thoughts.How does the question of questions wear apace? Have you become morereconciled to my project?"
"Dearest, do not think me foolish; but since you intimated yourintention of appearing in the lists, I have been engaged in a littleenterprise of my own. I have still my forebodings that you will bediscovered if you venture to enter the lists of the tournament, withoutsome more effectual disguise than you seem to possess. So, excuse me, Ihave been taxing my poor woman's wit in the matter. Would it be wrong topractise a little ruse upon my father, think you? I have a cousin, who,some years ago, joined the ranks of the king of Spain, and has gone towar with him against the Moors in the south. He is much commended by theking of Spain for his valour. If we could dare to convey to my father amessage that this knight would be present at the festival, and take partin the joust and feat of arms, you yourself might then assume thisdisguise. You would, I think, pass easily for this valiant southernknight, providing you could arrive opportunely, so as to preclude asmuch as possible previous intercourse. Your followers also might beprepared to enact their part. It would disarm suspicion effectively, Ithink."
"Ah! to be sure, set love a-plotting and the thing is done at once."
"Nonsense! you jest with me. Now listen! I have already set aboutembroidering you handsome trappings for your horse, with quaint,southern devices, which I learnt under the tuition of the good sistersof the convent. Now, don't laugh, you think it a mad whim, I can see."
"Nay, nay! my Lady Suspicion," said Oswald, stooping and kissing her,and giving her a tighter squeeze. "I almost begin to fear you as I thinkof the dark plots you are capable of weaving. I never for a momentdreamed I had found such a subtle schemer. Now, go on; you have got yourfinger on the weak point in the plot. I certainly feared the ordeal ofexposure on the field myself; and you have been taxing your 'poorwoman's wit,' and have anticipated my one difficulty. Now for the rest,dearest."
"Come down with me to my room. All is perfectly quiet."
So together they descended the winding stair, and sought Alice's room.Here she and Jeannette had been deftly plying their fingers inembroidering most quaint devices upon the trappings of the horses of theknight and his esquire, and a couple of men-at-arms. Oswald's were mostgorgeously embroidered with silk and gold, upon the finest Bayeauxcloth, by the fingers of Alice alone. Most beautiful and chaste was theworkmanship, for she had lavished not only her skill, but her love inthe equipment of her champion. The figures were so quaint, the design sooriginal, and the whole so rich in quality, that no prince could hope toride with more tasteful and imposing housings for his steed. Jeannettealso had done her best, it can easily be imagined, to equip her valiantsquire like his master.
Oswald took the garments in his hands.
"Well, dearest," said he, "no one will expect a boorish Saxon outlaw toappear like a Norman prince, that is certain; and I dare warrant nocurious eyes will penetrate a disguise so complete as you are preparing.Love is not blind in this case, Alice dear, I avouch it; but it has thegift of prevision also. There remains but one condition to give pointand consummation to this, and it is that your valiant cousin shall provehimself worthy of such a lady love. But, darling, can you answer thisquestion,--if Vigneau should be overthrown ignominiously, will thespoils of war, the fair queen of this high festival, be the lawful prizeof the victor? Now, beware! if you escape the toils of Vigneau, there isanother ominous figure hovering near, who is ready to pounce down uponyou and carry you off."
"So, I suppose, like an unhappy maiden, I may sing--
"'Then woe is me! a bride I'll be, Whether I will or no; For 'tis a law of chivalry-- Victors will have it so.'
"Well, if only the 'fair queen' may have the option of choice, I thinkin that case the Norman cousin will have it. But do not cherish any vainhopes; I am sure that Vigneau will gulp down his humiliation, if hecannot avenge it; and there is no hope of his relinquishing any claimsto myself, though I believe malignant hatred is the only feeling hecherishes towards me."
"It were an easy matter to sweep him out of the way; that would be aneasy task; but here comes in a tax upon my conscience, for in spite ofthe fact that he richly merits it, to compass his
overthrow in coldblood is abhorrent to my feelings. If I should worst him in theencounter, he will probably claim satisfaction, and if he does not, butpersists in his determination to claim you as his bride, then, inaccordance with the laws of chivalry, I also will claim your hand, andchallenge him to mortal combat. So, honour and my conscience will beappeased. May Heaven nerve the arm that battles for the right!"
"I am afraid the complications will not end even if Heaven rid us of theBaron, for his brother at the Abbey is fully conversant with my father'sill-starred confidence."
"Well, enough, dearest; one step at once. Are there many knightsexpected in this tourney?"
"I scarcely think there will be many. My father is very half-hearted inthe matter, and you may be sure he has no encouragement from myself. Thefewer who are witness of my humiliation the better."
"Well, I am sure that so far as Vigneau is concerned, the feebler theopponents the better he will like it; I daresay, though, he counts uponan easy conquest in any case. Well, now, dearest, don't be discouraged;I must be away, but I shall look daily for the signal. May happier dayssoon dawn for you, and for this unhappy country. _Au revoir_, darling."
So saying, with a parting kiss Oswald sped him for the home on thehills.