'JOHSIUHaIIV UHJ1 (INV AOyrJ 5IG
I I
i =111t,1L                                                             _'l''~: ~ ~',~'- i.
Y,? /: WI




WAVE RLEY N OVELS,
STANDARD EDITION.
TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
THE BETROTHED
traam tie Nast gtbilstb 5bition,
CONTAINING THE AUTHOR'S FINAL CORRECTIONS) NOTES$ ETC.
PH ILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES,
No. 8 2. CHESTNUT STREET.




CAXTON  PRIESS O) S1ElP1 31.AN  &  CO.
P 12 I...  1) 1;, 1' 1l I A.




INTRODUCTION
TO
THE BETROTH]ED.
Tnui Tales of the Crusaders was determined upon as
tile title of the following series of' these novels, ratlher.y tile advice of the few fiiends whllomil deatll has now
-endered still fewer, than by the autlhor's own taste.  Not
lbut tlhat lie saw l3lainly enough thle interest which might
be excited by thle very name of tle Crusades, blt lhe was
conscious at thle salme timne that that interest was of a
character whliclh it might be more easy to create than to
satisft, and tllat by tile mention of so magnificent a subject eacli reader miglht be induced to call up to his imagination a sketch so extensive and so( grand that it might
lnot o in the power of tile autllor to fill it up, who would
thus stand in thle )predicamnent of thle dkwarf bringing with
him a standard to measure lhis own stature, and shlowing
himself, therefore, says Sterne, " a dwarf more ways
than one."
It is a fact, if it were w-orth while to examine it, that
the publisher and author, however much their general interests are the same, may be said to differ so far as titlepages are concerned-  and it is a secret of the tale-telling
art, if it could be termed a secret worth knowing, that a
taking  title, as it is called, best answers the purpose of
tile bookseller, since it often goes far to cover his risk,
and sells an edition not unfiequently before the 1public
have well seen it.  B3ut the author ought to seek more
permlanen  fame, and vishl that Ihis work, when its leaves
are first ct-  >pen, slhou!cl be at least fairly judged of.
Thus many -f the best novelists have been anxious to




4'INTRODUCTION TO
give tfeir works such titles as render it out of the reader's
power to conjecture their contents, until they sllould have
ain opportunity of reading thenm.
All this d;d not prevent the Tales of the Crusadern
from being the title fixed on; and the celebrated year of
projects (eighteen hundred and twenty-five) being the
time of publication, an introduction was prefixed according to the humour of tile day.
The first tale of the series was influenced in its struc.
ture, rathler by the wish to avoid the general expectations
which might be formed fiom tile title, than to comply
with any one of them, and so disappoint the rest.  The
story was, therefore, less an incident belonging to the
Crusades, than one which was occasioned by the singular
cast of rmind introduced and spread wvide by those mlemorable undertakings.  The confusion among fiarmilies
was not the least concomitant evil of the extraordinary
preponderance of this superstition:.  It was no unusual
tlhing for a Crusader, returning fiomn his long toils of war
and pilgrimage, to find his lamily augmented by some
young ofF-shoot. of whom the deserted matron could give
no very accurate account, or perhaps to find his marriagebed filled, and that, instead of becoming nurse to an old
man, his household dame had preferred being the ladylove of a young one.  Numerous are tile stories of thlis
kind told in difierent parts of Europe; and the returned
kight or baron, according to his temper, sat dowiJ good..
naturedly contented with the account which his lady gave
of a doubtful matter, or called in blood and fire to vindicate his honour which, after all, had been endaogered
chiefly by his forsaking his household gods to seek adventures in Palestine.
Scottish tradition, quoted, I think, in some part of the
Border Minstrelsy, ascribes to the clan cf Tweedie,   a
family once stout and warlike, a descent wlhich would not
have misbecome a hlero of antiquity.  A baron, somewhat
elderly we may suppose, had wedded a buxom young
ady, and sonie montlhs after their union lie left hler to ply
t'e distaff alone in his old tower, among the mountains




THE BETRIOTHED.                    5
of the county of Peebles, near the sources (. f the Tweed
He returned after seven or eight years, no uncomllnon
space for a pilgrimage to Palestine, and found his family
had not been lonely in his absence, the lady having been
cheered by the arrival of a stranger, (of wllose approach
she could give the best account of any one,) who hung
on her skirts, and called her mammy, and was just such
as the baron wruld have longed to call his son, but that
he could by no means make his age correspond, according
to the doctrine of civilians, with his own departure for
Palestine.  He applied to his wite, therefore, for the
solution of this dilemma.  The lady, after many floods
of tears, whllich she had reserved for the occasion, informed the honest gentleman, that, walking one day alone by
the banks of' the infant river, a human form arose firom a
deep eddy, still known and termed Tweed-pool, who
deigned to inform  her that lie was the tutelar genius of
the strearn, and, bongre, malgrd, became tile father of the
sturdy fellow, whose appearance lad so much surprised
her husband.  This story, however suitable to' Pagan
times, would have met with full credence, from few of
the baron's contemporaries, but the wife was young and
beautiful, the husband old and in his dotage; her family
(the Frasers, it Is believed) were powerful and warlike,
and the baron had had fighlting enough in the holy wars.
The event was, that he believed, or seemed to believe,
the tale, and remained contented with the child with
whom his wife and the Tweed had generously presented
him.  The only circumstance which preserved the memrnory of the incident was, that the youth retained the name
of Tweed, or Tweedie.  The baron, meanwhile, could
not, as the old Scotch song says, " Keep the cradle rowin-," and the Tweed apparently thought one natural son
wvas family enough for a decent Presbyterian lover, and
so little gall had the baron in his composition, that lhaving
bred up the young Tweed as hlis heir while lie lived, he
left him in that capacity when le died, and the son of the
river-god founded' the family of Drummelzier and others,
VOL. I.




6                   INTRODUCTION   I 0)
filom  wlorn  have flowed, in the plhrase of the  Ettricl
Sllhe }!lerd, " many a brave fellow, and Inany a bauld leat "
Thlle tale  of' the  Noble  Moringer is somliewvhat of tllf
same nature —it exists in a collection of' Germlan populay
songs, entitletl, Sammlung  Deutsclhen Vollikslieder, Ber
lin, 1807; published  by Messrs. B3Lsclling and Von de;
liage!i.  The  song is sulpposed to be extracted  from nmanulscript chronicle  of Nicolas Tliomnann, clalplain  to
St. Leonard  in  Wiessenllhorn, and  dated  15:3:3.   l'lie
ballad, which is popular in Germany, is supposed, fiomn
the language, to hlave been composed in tile fifteenth century.  The Noble AMoringer, a pow-erful baron of Germany, about to set out on a pilgrimage to thle land of St.
T'lhonas, with the geograplhy of wlicli we are not mrade
acquainted, resolves to commit his castle, doeininions, and
lady, to the vassal whlo should pledge him  to keep watch
over thtem  till tliheseven years of lhis pilgrimlage were acconiplished.  His chamberlain, an elderly and a cautious
man, declines tile trust, observing, that sevenr  days, instead of seven years, would be the utmost space to whicl
lie would consent to pledge himself for the fidelity of any
woman.  The esquire of the Noble iMoringer confidently
accepts the  trust refused by the chamnberlain, and  the
baron departs on his pilgrimage.  The seven  years are
now elapsed, all save a single  day and niglit, x\rlen, be.
hold, a vision descends on the noble pilgrim  as he sleeps
in the land of the stranger.
w Jt w.as the noble Moringer within an orchard slept.
W\hrien on the Baron's sluinbering sense a bo(ding vision crept,
And wlhispered in his ear a voice, "'tis time, Silr Knight, to wakeThy lady and thy heritage another master take.
"''lhly tower another b-qnner knows, thy steeds another rein,
And stoop them to another's will thy gall:ant vassal trainAnd she, the lady of thy love, so ftithful onice arnd i'ir.
This night, within thy falther's ha.l, she weds Mlrstetten's heir.'
The  AIoringer starts up antd prays to his patron  St.
Thomas, to rescue llimi fromn the imnpelndinr  shamle, wllicl
his devotio'i to his patron  had placed him in danger of
incurring.  St. Thomas, who  must have felt the jus



T'lE   BE'RF, OT'lI ).                             7
tice of the  imputation, performs a miracle.   The  Motin.
ger's  senses were   drenched  in  oblivioll,  and  whlen  he
waked  lie lay  in a well-kno\ wn  spot of his own  doinain
on lhis right the Castle of his f{tllers, and  on  his left the
niill, which,  as usual, was built  not far distant firomn the
Castle.
" lie leaned upon his pilgriim's staff, and to the mill he drew8o altered( was hIis goodly forin that none their imaster knew.
T'he bttron to the miller said,' Good frienll. for clhatrily,
T'ell a poor pilgrim, ill.your land, lwhat tidilngs may there be 1'
"The miller answered him again-' He knew of little news,
Save that the ladv of the land,licl a new bridfegroom choose;
tier ilstband die(i in distant landl, such is the constlant word,
His death sits heavy oi our souls, he was a worthy lord.
O' Of him I held the little mill, which wins me living free-;n.od rest thle baron in his grave, lie ave was kiind to me!
Anl, wheln,St. Mlsrtil's tidle coinies rouindl, alId millers take theit toll,'l",e  riest that prays for Aloringer shall have both cope alid stole.' "
Tile baron proceeds to tlle Castle gate, wilichl is bolted
to   prevent  intrusion, while  the   inside  of tlte  mansion
rung witll l)reparatiotls for tile  larriage of tile lady.   The
pilgrill prayedl thle  porter for entrance, colljuring  llitn  by
his own stifferings, anrd for thle sake of tlte late Mloringer
by tile orders of lhis lady, the warder gave him  admnittanee.
" lThell tup lhe hall paced Moringer, his step was sad anid slow;
It sat fiill heavy onn his heart, itoine scented tleir lord ti know.
lie sat him on a lowlv benlch  oppressed with woe al  wrongll
Short while lie sat, but ne'er to hinm seemed little space so loing.
" Now spent was day. and feasting o'er, and come was evening hour,
Thie tisle was nigh wihen new nia(le bridies retire to Iiiptial bower,' Olir Castle's wont,' a bride's man saidl,' ath been both firnn and longNo guest to harbour ini our halls till he shall cha.t a song.' "
Wllen  thus called  upon, the disguised  baron  sung  the
folloving melanclholy  ditty:"' ('hill flows the lav of frozen age,''was Itthus the pilgrinm sting,' N(r gultlen  tueed, nor garinent gtay, nlocks his levlvv tolgiuie.
(0)lue  dliu I sit, thout lrideg'rooti gas, at b}oard as rich a  Iltille,
41nd b' mv side as fair a bride, wilth all tier charmis, was mnine.
"' Iltt time traced furrowvs on my face. and I grew silver-haired,
For ir cks sof brown alld cheeks of youth, site left this brow and beard 
(Once rich, but now a palmler poor, 1 treatl life's latest stage,
And mingle with your b idal mirth the lay of frozen age."




INTRODUCTION TO
The lady moved at the doleful recollections which the
palmer's son.g recalled, sent to him  a cup of wine.    Thie
palmer, having exhausted the goblet, returned it, and
having first dropped in the cup his nuptial ring, requested
the lady to pledge her venerable guest.
" The ring hath caught the lady's eye, she views it close and near,
Then might you hear her shriek aloud,'The Moringer is heres!'
Then might you see her start from seat, while tears in torrents fell,
But if she wept for joy or woe, the ladies best can tell.
"Full loud she uttered thanks to Heaven, and every saintly power
That had restored the Moriniger before the midnigrhi hour;
And loud she uttered vow on vow, that never was there bride
T'hat had like her preserved her troth, or been so sorely tried.
"' Yes, here I claim the praise,' she said,' to constant matrons due,
Who keep the troth that they have plight, so steadfastly and true;
For count the term howe'er you will, so that you count aright,
Seven twelvemonths and a dclay are out when bells toll twelve to-night' It was Marstetten then rose up, his falchion there he drew,
He kneeled before the Moringer, and (town his weapon threw;'My oath and knightly faith are broke,' these were the words he said;'Then take, my liege, thy vassal's sword, and take thy vassal's head.'
" The noble Moringer he smiled, and then aloud did say,'He gathers wisdom that hath roamed seven twelvemonths and a day;
My ldaughter now hath fifteen years, fame speaks her sweet and fair;
I give her for the bride you lose, and name her for my heir.
"'The young bridegroom hath youthful bride, the old bridegroom the old,
Whose faith was kept till term and tide so punctually were told;
But blessings on the warder kind that oped my castle gate,
For had I come at-morrow tide, I came a day too late.'"
There is also, in the rich field of German romance,
another edition of this story, which has been converted
by M. Tieck (whose labours of that kind have been so
remarkable)  into  the  subject of one  of his  romantic
dramas.   It is, however, unnecessary to  detail it, as the
present author adopted his idea of the tale chiefly fiom
the edition preserved in the mansion of Haighhall, of old'he mansion-house of the family of Bradshaigh, now possessed by their descendants on the female side, the Earls
of Balcarras,   The  story greatly resembles  that of the
Noble Moringer, only there is no miracle of St. Thomas
to shock the belief of good Protestants.   I am  pertmitted,
by my noble' friends, thelord  and lady of Haighhall, to
print the following extract from the family genealogy.




THE BETROTII 1). 
~%{r Eftliazm 33ra8'0s])age o  ~   $la{bell taugl)ter anb:one to tr {on Wuas Z     5   6olCe i)eire of Luglt
great trauetler anb Ll a      Nors be b   agb)e anu
-iou1tler anb marni  3lackrobe anrb D)ab s;sue
o                          KI, t. s. E   2.
f tltif-  aJte     f i a stovr  bp trabition of unioutrt*
brribt  ttiat in S.iiltillian  Irat.aijagr'  abiJnace
(Otittgt 10 varrto awuag inl tilt warc)  3A-r
marrite     a wlrld) lt..tr EWiarnll/  rttorunint g
trom tt e  warue    rame in a vatlrmcr  tiatit arno;
nogit tte 1poort to taglc.  ui!1o!e}r  wi}je oaw  8;
congett'zige ttlat te fa"'ourOe  t)er  tormtrt
u)bitanll Wtpt, for Btljil t ttIt l   at iticrtb  jer
at )uicr'r Elilam etJilt antu  mabe tjimn cIfe
ullam3fl to It)1i  ritlnnanto iln tuc}) a     tac tl  t
n. butm r ar to ~ewtou ~arie %r tilliam, ouzr,
too-tg lim.) anl   lute Iim.n   t)e  Maiv Mamtr
fabler ttaU   t nionteb tb  1t}r tonifeor to
bot t.tnnantrcr  D) going ontilt etuer  gwtdtg
_arefout an$  barte tegg' to a erowe  nte  ZUtigan
fron0 tl)t agt)c Wixrot obe IlitelT &r il calltb
jaFiF! ) to toljis bap; +&  tter mnonumenrt 1Ltu
in ft igan ela ottac    am vou tfet tbetr Vortnt
On: Dom: 1315
a~~~~~~~~-'77~"j




tL                  INTRODUCTION  T0
There were Ilany vestiges around Haighhlall, botll of
tile Catllolic  penances of tile Lady  Alabel, and of thlis
nleltiiclioly transaction il palticular; tile whole hlistory
was within tile  memory of man portrayed  u)pon a glass
willndow in tile!hall, where ullforltlunately it has not been
preserved.  Mab's Cross is still extant.  An old decayed
building is said to have been the place wbhere the Iady
Mabel was condemined  to rend(er penance, by,walkilng
hither fiom  l Haigltliall barefooted and  barelegged for the
pefobrinlance of lher devotions.  This relic, to which an
anecdote  so culrious is annexed, is nowv  unfortunately
ruinous.  Tinme anlld wllitewash, says  iMr. Rooly, have
altogether defiaced the effigies of tile knight and lady on
tile tomnb.  Tile particulars are preserved in Mr. Rloby's
Tral(itions of l,ancaslhire,* to whllicl the reader is referred
for further particutlars.  It does not appear tlhat Sir  Willial  13radshaligl \\as irreparablly offended against tIle too
hlasty ltady  label, altl.ough lie certainly shiowed hlimself
oi' a mIore fiery rould  tllan  tile  Scottishi and  German
barons who were hleroes of tile fbilner tales.'lie  tradition, whicll the alltle) I,:lkew  veO1  eai ly in life, was told
to lliml!)r tile late  Iady Balcarras.   ie was so IuclltlC
struclk witll it, tlat being at thlat tilile prolfse of legendary
lore, lie insertedl it in tllle slhapte of a note to Waverley,t
the first of Ills rolmanltic offences.  H1ad lie thlen known,
as lie now  does, the value of such a story, it is likely
that, as directed in tile ininmitable receipt for making an
epic l)oemn,  reserved  in  tile Guardian, lie would  have
kept it for somrne fltiure opportunity.
As, hlowever, the tale hlad not been completely told,
and was a very interesting one, and as it was sufficiently
itterwx oven  with  tlIe Crusades, thle wars  between  thle
Welsh anldl tlhe Normtan lords of tlme M'archles were selected
as a perio: wllen all fireedoins  r higlltt be taken wvith thle
strict trutll of lhistory  witllout encounteringll  any  wellknown fact, whichll iighlt render the narrative inmmprolable.
*A very elegant work, 2 vols. 1829. By J. Roby, AI. R. S. I.
*Waveriey, present edition, vol. m. p. 25. and Note 4.




TtIE  BETItOTHED.                    i 1
Perlhaps, lower er, the period which vindicates the probability of tile tale, will, witll its wa's anld mllurders, be best
folund described in tile followzing passage of Gryfti'tl  An
Edwin's wvars.
" Tlis prince in conjulnction with Alar, Earl of Chester, who llad been banistled  fiomn England as a traitor,
in the reign of Edward tlle Confessor, marched  into
Hlerefordsllire and wvasted all that fertile country witll fire
and sword, to revene tle deatlh of hins brother tliees,
whlose llead had been brought to Edward in pursuance
of an order sent by that kinll  on account of thle depredations which he had com:nitted against tile English on
tlhe borders.  To stop thlese ravages, tlte Earl of Hereford, who was neplew  to  Edward, advanced wilth an
arnmy, not of Englislh alone, but of mercenary Normans
and French, wllolll le had entertained in hlls service,
against Gryffyrth and Algar.  He met thletn near Hereford, and offered thlem battle, whichl the Welsh monarch,
who hlad won five pitched battles beforej and never hlad
foughlt without conquering, joyfully accepted.  The earl
nad cornmanded his English  forces to fighlt on'lorsenack,  i  isiitation  of the Normans, against their usual
customi; but the Welshl making a furious and desperate
charge, tlhat nobleman hinmself; andl tlhe foteign cavalry
led by him, were so daunted at tile view of them, tlhat
tltey shlallefully fled without fighlting; which being seen
by the English, they also turned their backs on the enemy, who, hlaving killed or wounded as many of hemrn as
tlhey could come up with in their flight, entered triumphantly into Hereford, spoiled and fired the city, razed the
walls to the groulnd, slaughtered some of the citizens,
led many of tllem captive. and (to use thle words of tlle
Welsh Cllronicle) left notlhing in the town but blood and
ashles.  After thiis exlploit thley  inimmediately  returned
into Wales, undoulbted(ly fr'om a desire of securing their
prisoners, and the rich plunder they had gained.  Tlhe
King of England hereupon commanded Earl Harold to
collect a great army. from  all parts of the kingdonm, and
atssembli-ng tlhem  at Gloucester, advancpd from thence tc




12'I NTR0 D U CTlION.
invade tile dominions of Gryffyth in North Wales.  He
perforimed his orders, and penetrated into that countr)
without resistance firom tile Welsll; GryflVth and Algal
retiiurning into sorne parts of Soutl Wales. What were their
reasons for thlis conduct we are not well informed; nor
whly Harold did not pursue hlis advantage against thembut it appears that lie thought it more advisable at thlis
time to treat with, than subdue,- then; for lie left North
WVales, and employed himself in rebuilding the walls of
Htereford, while negotiations were carrying  on with
Gryffyth, which soon aiter produced the restoration of
Algar, and a peace with that king, not very 1onourable
to England, as he made no satisfaction for tle mischief
lhe!;id done in the war, nor any submissions to Edward.
Harold must doubtless have had some private and forcible motives to conclude such a treaty.  The very next
year the Welsh monarch, upon what quarrel we know
not, made a new incursion into England, and' killed the
Bishop of HIereford, the sheriff of the county, and
many more o- the English, both ecclesiastics and laymen. Edward was counselled by Harold, and Leofiick,
Earl of Mercia, to make peace with him again; which
he again broke: nor could he be restrained by any
means, fi'orn these barbarous inroads, before the year
one thousand arid sixty-three; when Edward, whose
patience and  pacific disposition  had been too much
abused, commissioned Harold to assemble the whole
strength of the kingdom, and make war upon him in his
own country, till lie had subdued or destroyed him.
That general acted so vigorously, and with so mnuch ce-.erity, that he had like to have surprised him in his
palace: but just before the English forces arrived at liis
gate, hlaving notice of the danger that threatened him,
and seeing no other rmeans of safety, lhe threw himself
wvith a few of his household into one of his ships which
happened at tile instant to be ready to sail, and put to:ea."-LYTTLETON'S Hist. of England, vol. ii. ). 3:38.
This passage will be found to bear a general resemblance to the fictitious tale told in. the Romance.




INTRODUCTION
MINUTES
Of Scderunt qf a General JMeeting of the Share-holders diesi;rcni   r toj  rm   a Joint-Stock  Company, united
or' the puipose  of writing and publishing the class of
works called  the  Waverley  JVovels, held  in the  lVaterloo Tavern, Regent's Bridge, — Edinburgh, 1st June,
1 825.
[The reader must have remarked. that the various editions of the proceed.
ings at t!is:l ilg uiwere given in tile public papers Mwithl iather more than
usutil in'c(uri;\.''he cause of this was uo ill-timied delicacy on thle part of
the gentlemen el;i the press to assert thteir privilege of uliversa Ipresence wherever a  t;,w aqre m-et together, alnd o c(llOllit to the public plints whatev er mnay
tllhen a1(d there plss of the most private nature. But very unusual and arbitrary
mrethods were resorted to oil tile present occasion to prevent the reporters usiig
a. rightl which is gellerallv conceded to thenl by almost all meetings, whether
of a polilical or commercial (descriptionl.   Our onvii reporter, indeed, was bold
cnouglh to secrete hilnself under tile Secretary's tablle, and wvas not discovered
till tlhe inetiti'r wis well   nih oiver.  We are sorry to sax  he sufieled Imuchi in
person firton tists alid tos, anid itl  o or three pricipal pages were torn out of Iis
rnote-hook, whiicl occasions hIis relort to hreak offi  aruptly.  \e canllot but
consider this  elehaviour as more  iarticularly illiberal on the part of men who
are tliciriselves a kiidt of getutlemen of the press; and they oughlt to consider
themselves as fbrtunate tlitt tile miisusedt reporter ihas sougliti 1no othler vrengeanice til;ll troii tile tonle of aciliit' uwith which lie has seasonled his account
of their lIroccediiigs.-EdinbiLrg/ih N'erspgaperi.]
A  MEETINl;   of tile  igentlemen  and  others  interested
In   tile   celebrated   publiciations  called   the   Waverley
Novels,    having  been  called   by    ttlblic   advertisemr ent,
thIe  same  was  respectably  attended   by  various  literary
cllaracters  of  eminence.              And   it  being   in   tlhe   first
place   understood   tliat  individuals   were   to  be denomiainaed  by  tile  namies  assigned   to  tlletn  in   the   piubli
cations in  question, the  Eidolon, or image  of the  autlo.




IV                 INTRODUCTION.
was unanimously called to the chair, and Joiathaul Old.
buck, Esq. of AMonkbarns, was requested  to act at
secretary.
The Preses then addressed the meeting to the following Jpurpose:
" GENTLEMEN,' I need scarce remind you, that we have a joint in
terest in the valuable property which has acculnulated
under our commlon labours.  While the public have been
idly engaged in ascribing to one individual or anotlier the
immense imass of various nlatter which the labours of
many had accutniulated, you, gentlemen, well know, tllat
every person in tills numerous assembly has ihad his
slhare in the lionours andt profits of our conrlmn success.  It is indleed to me a mystery how thle sl)ar)siglhted could supplose so liuge a Inass  of sense and
nonsense, jest and( earnest, hullmlorous anti p)atlietic, good,
bad, and indi-elrent, amounting to so-res of volumtes,
could be the workl of one hand, lwhen we know the doctrine so well laia down by the immortal Adam  Smith,
concerning the dlrision of labour.'Were those who entertained an opinion so strange, not wvise enouglh to( know
that it requires twenty pairs of hlands to make a thilng so
trifling as a pin —twenty couple of dogs to kill an aiimal so-insignificant as a fox?" —
Hout, man!" said a stout countryman, " I have 3
grew-bitch at hame will worry the best tod in Pomoragrains, before ye could say dumpling."
" Who is that person?"  said the Preses, with some
warmth, as it aplpeared to us.
"A son of Dandie Dinmont's,"  answered the uniabashed rustic.  " God, ye may mind him, I think!ane o' the best in your aught, 1 reckon.  Arid, ye see,
I an come into the farm, and maybe something mair
and a wheen shares in this builk-trade of yours."
"Well, well," replied the Preses, " peace, I pray thee,
peace.  Gentlemen, when thus interrupted, I was on tile
point of introducing the business of this meeting, being,




INTRODUCTION.-                    1
as is knlown to most of you, the  discussion of a proposition now on your table, which 1 myself lhad the llhnour
to suggest at last meeting, namely, that we do apply to
the Legislature for an Act of Parliament in ordinary, to
associate us into a corporate body, and give us a persona
standi in judicio, with full power to prosecute and bring
to conviction all encroachers upon our exclusive privilege,
in the manner therein to be made and provided.  In
a letter from  the ingenious Mr. Dousterswivel which I
have received "
Oldbuck, warmly —" I object to that fellow's name
being mentioned; he is a common swindler."
" For shame  M! r. Oldbuck," said the Preses, " to
use such terms respecting the ingenious inventor of the
great patent machine erected at Groningen, where they
put in raw  hemp at one end, and take out ruffled shirts
at the other, without the aid of hlackle or ripplling-co1lmb,
loom, sluttle, or weaver, scissors, needle, or sealmstress.
He had just completed it, by the addlition of a piece of
machinery to perfori tile work of the laundress; but when
it was exlit)ited beflore iis honour the burgomaster, it
had the inconvenience of lheating the smoothling-irons red
hot; excepting which, the experimrnent was entirely satisfactory.  Iie will become as rich as a Jew."
" Well," added cMr. Oldbuck, " if the scoundrel —-— "' Scoundrel, Mr. Oldbuck," said the Preses, " is a
most unseemly expression, and I must call you to order.
Mlr. Doulsterswivel is only an eccentric genius."
" Pretty much the same in the Greek," muttel ed MIr.
Oldburk; and then said aloud, " and if this eccentric
genius has work enough in singeing the Dutchman's linen, what the devil has lie to do here?"
"Why, lie is of opinion, that at t!le expense of a little
mechanism, some part of the  labour of composing
these novels Inight be saved by the use of steam."
There w-as a murmur of disapprobation at this proposal, and the words, " Blown up," and "' Bread taken
out of oar mouths;" and "' They might as woll construct
VOL. I.




VI               INTRODUCTION.
a steanl parson," were whispered. And it was not without repeated calls to order, that the Preses obtained an
opportunity of resuming his address.
" Order!-Order! Pray, support the chair! Hear,
hear, hear the chair!"'Gentlemen, it is to be premised, that this mechanIcal operation can only apply to those parts of the nar"ative which are at present composed out of commonplaces, such as the love-speeches of the hero, the de
sc.ription of the heroine's person, the moral observations
of all sorts, and the distribution of happiness at the conclusion of the piece.  Mr. Dousterswivel has sent me
some drawings, which go far to show, that, by placing
the words and phrases technically employed on these
subjects, in a sort of frame-work, like that of the Sage
of Laputa, and changing them  by such a mechanical
process as that by which weavers of damask alter their
patterns, many new and happy combinations cannot fail
to occur, while the author, tired of pumping his own
brains, may have an agreeable relaxation in the use of his
fingers."
"I speak for information, Mr. Preses," said the Rev.
Mr. Lawrence Templeton; " but I am inclined to suppose the late publication of Walladmor to have been the
work of Dousterswivel, by the help of the steam-engine.']'
" For shame, Mr. Templeton," said the Preses;
" there are good things in Walladmrnor, I assure you, had
the writer known anything about the country in which he
laid the scene."
" Or had he had the wit, like some of ourselves, to
lay the scene in such a remote or distant country that
nobody should be able to back-speer2 him," said Mr.
Oldbuck.
"'Why, as to that," said the Preses, " you must consider the thing was got up for the German market,
where folks are no better judges of Welch manners
than of Welch crW.5"3
"I make it mry prayer that this he not found the fault
of our own next venture," said Dr. Dryasdust, pointing




INTRODUCTIONW                  V11
to some books which lay on the table.  " I rear the
mdnners expressed in that' Betrothed' of ours, will
scarce meet tihe approbation of the Cymmerodion; I
could have wished that Llhuyd had been looked intothat Powel had been consulted-that Lewis's History
had been quoted, the preliminary dissertations particularly, in order to give due weight to the work."
" Weight!' said Captain Clutterbuck    c "by my
soul, it is heavy enough already, Doctor."
"Speak to the chair," said the Preses, rather peevishly.
"To the chair, then, I say it," said Captain Clutterbuck, " that'The Betrothed' is heavy enough to
break down the chair of John of Gaunt, or Cador-Edris
itself.  I must add, however, that, in my poor mind'The Talisman' goes more trippingly off."4
" It is not for me to speak," said the worthy minister of Saint Ronan's Well; " but yet I must say, that
being so long engaged upon the Siege of Ptolemais, my
work ought to have been brought out, humble though it
be, before any other upon a similar subject at least."
" Your siege, Parson!" said Mr. Oldbuck, with great
contempt;' will you speak of your paltry prose-doings
in my presence, whose great Historical Poem, in twenty
books, with notes in proportion, has been postponed ad
GUrecas Kalendas?"
The Preses, who appeared to suffer a great deal during this discussion, now spoke with dignity and determination.  " Gentlemen," he said, " this sort of discussion is highly irregular. There is a question before you,
and to that, gentlemen, I must confine your attention.
Priority of publication, let me remind you, gentlemen,
is always referred to the Committee of Criticism, whose
determination on such subjects is without appeal.  I
declare I will leave the chair, if any more extraneous
matter be introduced. —And now, gentlemen, that we are
once more in order, I would wish to have some gentleman speak upon the question, whether, as associated to
carry on a joint-stock trade in fictitious narrative. in
prose and verse, we ought not-to be incorporated by Ac
7t; 




vir              IN'TRODUCTION.
of Parliament? What say you, gentlemen, to the p;opsc
sal? 17is unita6 fortior, is an old and true adage."'
"Societas n ater discordiarumn, is a brocard as ancient
anld as veritable," said Oldbuck, who seemed det:rmliiied, on this occasion, to.be pleased with no proposal tleat
was  t-untenanced by the chair.
" Come, Monkbarns," said the Preses, in his most
coaxing manner,'" you have studied the monastic institutions deeply, and know there must be a  union o'
peirsons and talents to do anything respectable, and
attain a due ascendance over the spirit of the age.
Tres faciunt collegium-it takes three monks to make
a convent."
" And nine tailors to make a man," replied Oldbuck,
riot in the least softened in his opposition; " a quotaton as much to the purpose as the other."
"' Comne, come," said the Preses, " you know the'
Prince of Orange said to Mr. Seymour,' Without an
association, we are a rope of sand.' "
I know," replied Oldbuck, " it would have been
as seemly that none of the old leaven had been displayed on this occasion, though you be the author of a Jacobite novel, I know nothing of the Prince of Orange
after 1688; but I have heard a good deal of the immortal William the Third."
"* And, to the best of my recollection," said Mr.
Templeton, whispering Oldbuck, "it was Seymour made
the remark to the Prince, not the Prince to Seymour.
But this is a specimen of our friend's accuracy, poor
gentleman    He trusts too much to his memory 1 oi
late years —-~-failing fast, sir- brealin, up."
" And breaking down, too," said Mr. Oldbuck. " 3ut
what can you expect of a man too fond of his own hasty
and fashy compositions, to take the assistance of men
of reading and of solid parts?"
~ No whispering-no caballing-no private business,
gentlemen," said the unfortunate Preses,-who reminded
us somewhat of a Highland drover, engaged in gathering
and keeping in the straight road his excursive black cattle




INTRODUCTIONo                   IX
I have not yet heard," he continued, " a single
reasonable objection to applying for the Act of'Parliament, of whllill tile draught lies on the table.  You must
be aware that tile extremes of rude and of civilized
society are, in these our days, on the point of approaching to each other.  In the patriarchal period, a man was
his own weaver, tailor, butcher, shoemaker, and so forth;
and, in the age of Slock-companies, as the present may
De called, an individual may be said, in one sense, to
exercise tile same plurality of trades.  In fact, a man
who has dipt largely into these speculations, may combine his own expenditure with the improvement of his
own income, just like tile ingenious hydiraulic machine,
which, by its very waste, raises its own supplies of water.
Such a person buys his bread ftom  his own Baking
Company, his milk and cheese from his own Dairy Company, takes off a new coat for the benefit of his own
Clothing Company, illuminates his house to advance his
own Gas Establishment, and drinks an additional bottle
of wine for the benefit of the General Wine linportation Company, of which he is himself a member.
Every act, which would otherwise be one of Wrere
extravagance, is, to such a person, seasoned with the
odor lucri, and  reconciled  to prudence.   Even if
the price of the article consumed be extravagant, and
the quality indifferent, the person, who is in a manner
his own customer, is only imposed upon for his own
benefit.   Nay, if the Joint-stock Coinpany of Undertakers shall unite with the Medical Faculty, as proposed
by the late facetious Doctor G -, under the firm of
Death and the Doctor, the share-holder might contrive
to secure to his heirs a handsome slice of his own deathbed and funeral expenses.  In short, Stock-Companies
are the fashion of the age, and an Incorporating Act
will, I think, be particularly useful in bringing back the
body, over whom  I have the lhonour to preside, to a
spirit of subordination, highly necessary to success In
every enterprise where joint wisdoln, talent, and labour,
are to be employed.  It is with regret that I state, that,
iAtsides several,f.terenesc arnnMorst wourse.llves, I have




S                 INTRODUCTION.
not myself for some time been treated with that (leference anlong tyou which circumstances entitled me t:
expect."
I linc ilhe lachrynzme," muttered 1]r. Oldbuck.
s' But," continued the Chairman, " I see other gentlelmen impatient to deliver their opinions, and I desire
to stand in no mnan's way.  1 therefore —my place ill
this clhair forbidd(ing me to originate the motion-beg
momne gentleman may move a committee fbr revising the
draught of the bill now upon the table, and which has
been duly circulated among those having interest, and
take the necessary measures to bring it before the House
early next session."
There was a short murmur in the meeting, and at
length Mr. Oldbuck again rose.  " It seems, sir," he
said, addressing the chair, " that no one present is willing to make the motion you point at.  I am sorry no
more qualified person has taken upon him to show any
reasons in the contrair, and that it has fallen on me, as
we Scotsmen say, to bell-the-cat with you; anent whlilk
phrase, Pitscottie hath a pleasant jest of the great Earl
of Angus —-— "
Here a gentleman whispered the speaker, " Have a
care of Pitscottie," and Mr. Oldbuck, as if taking the
hint, went on.
" But that's neither here nor there.-WeIl, gentlemen, to be short, I think it unnecessary to enter into the
general reasonings wlhilk have this day been delivered,
as I may say, ex cathedra; nor will I charge our worthy
PIreses with an attempt to obtain over us, per ambages,
and under colour of an Act of Parliament, a despotic
na:;thcrity, inconsistent with our freedom: But this I will
sa::y, that times are so much changed above stairs, that
whereas last year you might have obtained an act incor-:o'a:ing a Steck Company for riddling ashes, you will
not be able to procure one this y3ear for gathering pearls.
What signifies, then, wasting the time of the meeting, by:Fquiring whether or not we ouglht to go in at a door
w.hbich we know to be bolted and barred in our face,




INTRODUCTION.                     gl
and In tile face of all the comrpanies for fire or air, land
or uwater, which we have of late seen bliglltedl?"
Here there was a general clamour, seemingly of approoation, in wllich the words miglht be distillgulishled,
" Needless to think of it"-" Mloney tlhrown away" —
"Lost before the committee," &c. &c. &c.  But above
the tumult, the voices of two gentlemen, in diffeienr
corners of the room, answered eacll ot3her clear and loud,
like the blows of the two filures on Saint Dunstan's
clock; and althoulgh the Cllairman, in much agitation.
endeavoured to silence them, his inierruption llad onl.
tilhe effect of cutting tllceir words iup into syllables, thus, —
First Voice.  " The Lord Chlan        "
Second Voice.  "' Lord Lau~ "
Chairman, (loudly.)  " Scandalum magnatum."
First Voice.'l The Lord Chlancel
Second Voice.  " The Lord Lauder- 
Chairman, (louder yet.)  " Breacll of Privilege.'
First Voice.  " The Lord Cllancellor  "
Second Voice.  " My Lord Lauderdlale-"
Chairmart, (at the highest pitch oj' his voice.) " Called before the House."
Both Voices together.  " Will never consent to such
a bill."
A general assent seemed to follow tllis last proposition.
which was propounded with as much eimplhasis as could
be contributed by the united clappers of tile whlole meeting, joined to those of the voices already mentioned.
Several persons present seemed to consider tile business of tile  neeting  as ended, and were  )egiinting to
handlie their hlats and canes, witll a view to departure,
wllen tile Clairmtan, whIo hlad tlhrown himlnself back in
his chair witli anl air of man-ifest mortification andk displeasure, again drew hlimsellf up, and comnlande(d attention.   All stoppe(l, tlloughll some shllrgged tlleir shloulders, as if uender the predominating ilfluence of wliat is
called a bore.   But thle tenor of hiis discourse soon
excited anxious attention.




Si1                    INTRODUOOCT1ON.'  perceive, gentlemen," lie said, " that you are like
the yo,,llng birds, who are inmpatient to leave their mother's inest-take care your own pelI-featllers are strong
enougllh to sui))port you; since, as for my  part, I arm
t;red of sulpportillg on my willn sulch a set of ungrateful
tills.  Butt it siglifies notlingn sp)eaking —|    will no lonoger
avail rnixyself of suchl wealk lniisters as you-i wvill (liscard
you-1 will unbeget you, as Sir Antliony Absolute says —
J will leave you and your whllole hacked stock in tradeyour caverns and your castles-3your modern antiques,
anmd your antiquated moderns-your confusion of times,
manners, and circurnstances-your prolerlties, as playerfolk say of scenery and dresses-the whlole of your exlhausted expedients, to the fools who choose to deal with
them.  I will vindicate  my  own  fame with my  own
righlt hand, without appealing to such lhalting  assistants,
Whom I have used for sport. rather than need.
— 1 will lay my  lfundationm better than on quick-sands
~ -  will rear my structure of better materials than paintetl calits; —in a word, I wil1l write HisTORY."
Tliee was a tumult of surprise, amid which our reporter detected  the  following  expressions:-" Tile
devil you will!"-"-  You, my dear sir, yo l?      n —"'Tle
old gerntlemran forgets that he is the greatest liar since
Sir J&,hn Mandeville."
" Not the  worse historian  for that,"  said Oldbuck,'L silce history, you know, is half fiction."
" I'll answer for that half being forthcoming, " said the
former speakeir; " but for tile scantling of truth which is
r.ecessary after all,,olrd help us!-Geoffirey of Monmnc:th wiAl  be Lord Clarendon to him."
As the confilsion began to abate, Inore than one merm
her of the meeting was seen to toutch hIis forehead sig
niAezny y, wh;la Captain Clutterbuck humie'd,
Be. by your friends.advised,
T:o Irash, too hasty, dad,
Maugre your bolts and wise head,
The world will think you nad.




INTRODUCTION  XII..6 The world, and you, gentlemen, may think what
you please," said the Chairman, elevating his voice
" hblt I intend to write the most wonderful book wsei(lt
the world ever read-a book in which every incideLit
shall be incredible, yet strictly  true-a work recalling
recollections with which the ears of this generation once
tingled, and which shall be read by our children with ai'
admiration approaching to incredulity.  Such shall be
lie LIFE of NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, by the AUTHOR
Of WAVERLEY!"
In the general start and exclamation which followed
this annunciation, Mr. Oldbuck dropped his snuff-box;
and the Scottish rappee, which dispersed itself in consequence, had effects upoi the nasal organs of our report.
er, ensconced as he was under the secretary's table,
which occasioned his being discovered and extruded inl
the illiberal and unhandsome manner we have mention.
ed. with threats of farther damage to his nose, ears, and
other portions of his body, on the part especially of Captain Clutterbuck.  Undismayed by these threats, whicll
indeed those of his profession are accustomed to hold at
defiance, our young man hovered about the door of thle
tavern, but could only bring  us the further intelligence,
tllpt the meeting had broken up in about a quarter of an
Ile.-r aft"'r his expulsion, " in much-admrired disorder.'
2     L. 1.








TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
TALE I.
THE BETROTHED.
CHAPTER I.
Now in these dayes were hotte wars upon the Marches of Wales.
LEwis's History.
THE Chronicles from which this narrative is extracted, assure us, that, during the long period when the
Welch princes maintained their independence, the yeas
1187 was peculiarly marked as favourable to peace betwixt them  and their warlike neighbours, the Lords
tMarchers, who inhabited those formidable castles on the
frontiers of the ancient British, on the ruins of wilich trhe
traveller gazes with wonder.  This was the time whllen
Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, accompanied by
the learned Giraldus de Barri, afterwards Bishop of
Saint David's, preached the Crusade fiom castle to castle, from town to town; awakened the inmost valleys of
his native Cambria with the call to arms for recovery of
the Holy Sepulchre; and, while he deprecated the
feuds and wars of Christian men against each other, held
out to the martial spirit of the age a general object of
ambition, and a scene of adventure, where the ftvour of
Heaven, as well as of earthly renown, was to reward the
successful champions.
Yet the British chieftains, among the thousands whom
this spirit-stirring sutmurM1s called fi'om their native land




16          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
to a distant and perilous expedition, had perhaps thbest excuse for declining tile summons.   The superior
skill of the Anglo-Norman knights, who were engaged
in constant inroads on the Welch frontier, and who were
frequently detaching from it large portions, which they
fortified with castles, thus making good what they had
wVon,. was avenged, indeed, but not compensated, by thie
fullious inroads of the British, Wvho, like the billows of a
retiring tide, rolled on successively, with noise, fury, and
de aistation; but, on each retreat, yielded ground insensibly to their invaders.
A union among the native princes might have opposed
a strong and peritlanent barrier to tile encroacruments of the
strangers; but they were, unhappily, as much at discord
among themselves as they were with the Nornlans, and
were constantly enogaged in private war with each other,
of which the colnnlon eneniy had the sole advantage.
The invitation to the Crusade promised something at
least of novelty to a nation peculiarly ardent in their
tem;per; and it was accepted by many, regardless ol
the consequences which must ensue to the country whlich
they left defenceless.   Even the most celebrated enemies of the Saxon and Norman race laid aside their
enmity against the invaders of their country, to enrol
themselves under the banners of the Crusade.
Amongst these was reckoned Gwenwyn, (or more properly Gwenwynwen, though we retain tile briefer appellative,) a British prlince who continued exercising a precarious
sovereignty over such parts of Powys-Land as had not
been subjugated by the iMortirners, Guarines, Latimers,
Fitz-Alans, and other Norman nobles, who, under various pretexts, and solnetiines contemnning all other save
tile open avowal of superior force, had severed and appropriated large portions of that once extensive and independent principality, which, when Wales was unhappily divided into three parts on the death of Roderick
Mawr, fell to the lot of his youngest son Mervyn.  The
undaunted resolution and stubborn ferocity of Gwenwyn,
descendlant of that prince, had long made him beloved




THLE BETiRO'dEl'IJD.              17
among the ", Tall men," or Champions of Wales; and
lie was enabled, nore by tile number of  those   who
served under hi1m, attracted by his reputation, than by
the natural strength of his dilapidated principality, to retaliate the encroachments of' tile E:1nglish by the mos
wastefiil inroads.
Yet even Gwenwyn on the present occasionl seeinet
to forget his deeply s;worn hatred against his danlgerous
neigh hours.  TIe T'orcll of Pengwern, (for so Gwenwyn
was called, firoai his fiequently laying the province of
Shrewsbury in conflagration,) seenmed at present to burii
as calmlly as a taper in the bowver of a lady; and the Wolf
of Plinlinunon, another name with which the bards had
graced Gwenwyn, now  slumbered as peacefully as tle.
shepherd's dog on the domestic hearth.
But it was not alone the eloquence of Baldwin or of
Gerald which had lulled into peace a spirit so restless
and fierce.  It is true, their exhortations had done more
towards it than Gwenwyn's followers had thought possible.  The Archbishop had induced the British Chief to
break bread, and to mingle in sylvan sports, with his
nearest, and hitherto one of his most determined enemies, the old Norman warrior Sir Raymond Berenger,
who, sometimes beaten, sometimes victorious, but never
subdued, had, in spite of Gwenwyn's hottest incursions,
maintained his Castle of Garde Doloureuse, upon the
marches of Wales; a place strong by natulre and well
fortified by art, which the Welch prince had found it impossible to conquer, either by open force or by stratagem,
and which, remaining with a strong garrison in his rear,
often checked his incursions, by rendering his retreat
precarious.
On this account, Gwenwyn of Powys-Land had an hundred times vowed the death of Raymond Berenger, and
the demolition of his castle; but the policy of the sagacious old warrior, and  his long  experience  in  all
warlike practice, were such as, with the aid of his more
lowerful countrymen, enablel him to defy the attempts
VOL. I.




18          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
of his fiery neighbour.  If there was a man, therefore,
throughout England, whom Gwenwyn hated more tllan
another, it was Raymond Berenger; and yet the good
Archbishop Baldwin could prevail on the Welch prince
to meet him as a friend and ally in the cause of the Cross.
He even invited Raymond to the autumn festivities of
his Welch palace, where the old knight, in all honourable courtesy, feasted and hunted for more than a'week
in the dominions of his hereditary foe.
To  requite this hospitality, Raymond  invited  the
Prince of Powys, with a chosen but limited train, during
the ensuing Christmas, to the Garde Doloureuse, which
some antiquaries  have encleavoured to identify with.the Castle of Colune, on the river of the same name.
But the length of time, and some geographical difficulties, throw doubts upon this ingenious conjecture.
As the Welchman crossed the draw-bridge, he was
observed by his faithful bard to shudder with involuntary
emotion; nor did Cadwallon, experienced as he was in
life, and well acquainted with the character of his master,
make any doubt that lie was at that moment strongly urged by tile apparent opportunity, to seize u)on the strong
fortress which hlad been so long the object of  his cupidity,
even at the expense of violating hIis good faith.
Dreading lest tile struggle of hlis master's conscience
and his ambition should terminate unfavourably for his
fanme, the bard arrested his attention by whlispering in
their native language, that " the teeth which bite hardest
are those which are out of sight;" and Gwenwyn looking around him, became aware that, tlhough only unarmed squires and pages appeared in the court-yard, yet thle
towers and battlements coninecting them were garnished
withl archers and men-at-arms.
They proceeded to thle banquet, at vwhich Gwenwyn,
"or tile first time, beheld Eveline Berenger, the sole
child of the Norman castellane, the inheritor of his domains and of his supposed iwealth, aged only sixteen,
and tile most beautiful damsel upon the Welcl nlarcles.
Many a spear had already been shivered in maintenance




THE BETnRO FED.                   19
of her charms; and the gallant Hugo de Lacy, Consta
ble of Chester, one of the most redoubted warriors of the
tiie, had laid at Eveline's feet the prize which his cllivalry had gained in a great tournament held near that
ancient town.   Gwenwvyn considered these triumphs as
so many additional recommendations to Eveline; her
beauty was incontestable, and she was heiress of the
fortress whiich he so much longed to posse-%, and which
lie began now to think might be acquired by means more
smooth than those with which he was in the use of working out his will.
Again, the hatred whichb subsisted between the British
and their Saxon and Norman invaders; his long and illextinguished feud with this very Raymond Berenger;
a general recollection that alliances between the Welch
and English had rarely been happy; and a consciousness that the measure which he meditated would be unpopular among his followers, and appear a dereliction of
the systematic principles on whic lie had hitherto acted,
restrained him fiorn speaking his wishes to Raymond or his
daughter. The idea of' the rejection of his suit did not for
a moment occur to him; he was convinced he had but
to speak his wishes, and that the daughlter of a Norman
castellane, wlhose ranrk or power were not of the higlhest
order among the nobles of the frontiers. must be delighted
and hIonoured by a proposal for allying his family with
tihat of the sovereign of a hundred mountains..lThere was indeed another objection, wilichl in later
tinies would hIave been of considerable weihlit-Gwenwyn was already married.  But Brengwain was a childless bride; sovereigns, (and  among  sovereigns the
Welch prince ranked himself,) marry for lineage, and
the Pope was not likely to be scrupulous, where the
question was to oblige a prince who hlad assumed the
Cross with such ready zeal, even although, in fact, his
thoughts had been much more on the Garde Doloureuse than on Jerusalem.  In the meanwhile, if Rayinond Berenger (as was suspected) was not liberal
P'nough in his opinions to permit Eveline to hlold the'empc'arv rank of concubine.  which the manners of




2 G         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Wales warranted Gwenwyn to offer as an imlterim ar
rangement, lie had only to wait for a few monthlls, and
sue for a divorce through tile Bishop of Saint David's,
or some other intercessor at tile Court of Rome.
Agitating these thoutghts in his mind, Gwenwyn prolonged his residence at the Castle of Berenler, ionom
Christmas till Twelfth-day; and endured tile presence
of the Norman cavaliers vwho resorted to Raymond's
festal halls, althoulgh, regarding themselves, in virtue ol
thIeir rank'f knighthlood, equal to the most potent sovereigns, they made small- account of the long descent of
thle Welch prince, who, in their eyes, was but the chiel
of a semi-barbarous province; while he, on his part,
considered them  little better than a sort of privileged
robbers, and with the utmost difficulty restrained himself
from manifesting his open hatred, when lie beheld tllem
careering in the exercises of chivalry, the habitual use of
whichl rendered them  such forinidable enemies to hlis
country.  At length, the term of feasting was ended, and
knight and squire departed from the castle, which once
more assumed the aspect of a solitary and guarded fiontier fort.
But the Prince of Powys-Land, while pursuing his
sports on his own mountains and valleys, found thlat even
the  abundance  of  the  game, as well as his release
fiom the society of tile Norman chivalry, who affected to
treat him as an equal, profited him notlling, so long as tile
light and beautiful form  of Eveline, on her white
palfrey, was banished from  the train of sportsmen.
In short, he hesitated no longer, but took into his
confidence his chaplain, an able and sagacious manxwhose pride was flattered by his patron's communication, and who, besides, saw in the proposed scheme
some contingent advantages for himself and his order
By his counsel, the proceedings for Gwenwyn's di
vorce were prosecuted under favorable auspices, and
the unfortunate Brengwain was removed to a nunnery,
which perhaps she found a more cheerful habitation
than the lonely retreat in whicti she had led a neglee.ted life ever since Gwenwyn had despaired of her




THE  BETRIOTI{ED.                 21
ned being blessed Xwith issue.  Father Einion a'so dealt
withl thle chiefs and elders of tile land, and represented to
them the advantage which in future wars tley were cer
taintoobtainbythle possession of the Garde Doloureuse,
which had for more than a century covered and protected
a considerable tract of country, rendered their advance
difficult, and their retreat perilous, and, in a word, prevented thteir carrying their incursions as far as the gates of
Shrewsbuiy.  As for the union with the Saxon damsel,
the fetters which it was to form might not (the good father
hinted,) be found more permanent than those which had
bound Gwenwyn to her predecessor, Brengwain.
These arguments, mingled with others adapted to the
views and wishes of different individuals, were so prevailing, that the chaplain in the course of a few weeks was
able to report to his princely patron, that his proposed
match would meet with no opposition from the elders and
nobles of his dominions.  A golden bracelet, six ounces
in weight, was the instant reward of the priest's dexterity
in negotiation, and lie was appointed by Gwenwyn to
commit to paper those proposals, which he doulbted not
were to throw the Castle of Garde Doloureuse, notwith
standing its melancholy name, into an ecstasy of joy.
With some difficulty the chaplain prevailed on his patron
to say nothing  in this letter,lpon his temporary plan of
concubinage, which lie wisely judged might be considered as an affront both by Eveline and her father.  The
matter of the divorce lhe represented as almost entirely
settled, and wound JIp his letter with a moral application,
in which were many allusio is to Vashti, Esther, and
Ahasuerus.
Having despatched this letter by a swift and trnslt3
messenger, the British prince openetl in all solemnity the
feast of Easter, which hlad come round during the cou'rse
of these external and internal negotiations.
Upon the approaching Holy-tide, to propitiate the
tminds of his subjects and vassals, they were invited in
large numnbers to partake a princely  festivity at Castell-,or-ll ror thle Red Castle, as it was then called. since bel



22           TALES OF THIE  CRUSADERS.
ter known by the name of Powys-Castle, and in latter
times, the princely seat of the Dulke of Beaufort.  The
archlitectural magnificence of this noble residence is of a
much later period than that of Gwenwyn, whose palace,
at the time we speak of, was a long, low-roofed edifice
of red stone, whence the castle derived its name; while
a ditch and palisade were. in addition to the commanding
situation, its most important defences.
CHAPTER II.
In Madoc's tent the clarion sounds,
With rapid clangor hurried far;
Each hill and dale the note rebounds,
But when return the sons of war!
Thou, born of stern Necessity,
Dull Peace! the valley yields to thee,
And owns thy melancholy sway.
Welch Poem.
THE feasts of the ancient British princes usually exhioited all the rude splendour and liberal indulgence of
mountain hospitality, and Gwenwyn was, on the present
occasion, anxious to purchase popularity by even an unusual display of profusion; for he was sensible that the
alliance which he meditated might indeed be tolerated,
but could not be approved, by his subjects and followers.
The following incident, trifling in itself, confirmed his
apprehensions.  Passing one evening, when it was become nearly dark, by thle open window of a guard-room,
usually occupied by some few of his most celebrated soldiers, who relieved each other in watching his palace, he
heard Morgan, a man distinguished for strength, courage,
and ferocity, say to the companion with whom lie was sitting by tile watcll-fire, " Gvwenwyn is turned to a priest,
r a woman! When was it beforle these last months. that




THE BETROTHED).                  2
a follower of his was obliged to gnaw the treat from the
bone so closely, as I am now peeling the morsel which I
hold in my hand?"5
"Wait but a while," replied his comrade, " till the
Norman matchl be accomplished; and so small will be the
prey we shall then drive from the Saxon churls, that we
mnay be glad to swallow, like hungry dogs, the very bones
themselves."
Gwenwyn heard no more of their conversation; but
this was enough to alarm his pride as a soldier, and his
jealousy as a prince. He was sensible, that the people
over whom he ruled were at once fickle in their disposition, impatient of long repose, and full of hatred against
their neighbours; and he almost dreaded the consequences of the inactivity to which a long truce might reduce
them.  The risk was now incurred, however; and to
display even more than his wonted splendour and liberality, seemed the best way of reconciling the wavering affections of his subject-;.
A Norman  would have despised the barbarous magnificence of an entertainment, consisting of kine and
sheep roasted whole, of goats' flesh and deers' flesh
seethed in the skins of the animals themselves; for the
Normans piqued themselves on the quality rather than
the quantity of their food, and, eating rather delicately
than largely, ridiculed the coarser taste of the Britons,
althoughl the-last were in their banquets much mol e moderate than were the Saxons; nor would the oceans ot
crtw and hydromel, which overwhelmed the guests like a
deluge, have made up, in their opinion, for the absence of
the more elegant and costly beverage which they had
learned to love in the south of Europe.  Milk, prepared
in various ways, was another material of the British
entertainment,  which would not have received their approbation, although a nutriment which, on ordinary occasions, often supplied the want of all others amnong the
ancient inhlabitants, whose country was rid  in flocks and
Iteris, but poor in aricultural produce.
762




:04           1 AI, IS o F'IF THI   CIU.'ADE1I.'lhe banquet.was spreadl in a iong low lt-al, built of rough
w(ood liled withl  sllinlJes,  liaviln;a fire (t each erld, t)he
slmlokle of' wvlichl, ulnil1le to find its wvay tlfroh}) thl)e imlperli'et climhneys in t}He roof, rolled inl clouldy tiillows above
tlHe heads of th}e revellers, wlho sat on low seats,  prlp: sely to avoid its stifling  ftumes.6  The mnien andic  appearance
of the com-pany assemhnbled  was wild, and, even in tlleir
social hours, almost terrific.  Their prince himself lhad
thlle gigantic port and fiery eye fitted to sway an unruly
people, whose delight was in the field of battle; and the
long  mtlstaches which lie and mnost of his chaimptions
wore, added to the formidable dignity of his preselce.
Like most of those present, Gwenwyn wtas cladt in a simIle tunic of white linen cloth, a remnant of the dress
whicll tle Roomans had1 iintroda1 ced into lprovincial Britain; and lie was distinguislhed by the Eudorclawg, or
clain of twisted gold lilnks, with wlhiclh tile Celtic tribes
always decorated their cliiefls.'T'hle collar, indeed, elpresenting in tforn the species of links nladJe by chlildren out
of' ruslles, was comn-mon to chiieftaiids of inferior rank, nlany
of' whomn bore it in virtue of tlheir birthl, or hlad won it by
military exploits; but a ring of gold, bent around the head,
intemlingled withl Gwenwyn's hairi- or lie claimete the
rank of one of tl:ree diademed [princes of  Wales, and this
armIlets and anklets of thle samel nmetal, were peculiar to
the l'rince of Powys, as an indepenldent soviereign.  Two
squires of his body, who dedicated their whole attention
to his service, stood at the Prince's back; and at his feet
sat a page, whose duty it was to keep them  warm  by
chafing and' by wrapping them in his mantle.  The san:e
right of sovereignty, whiclh assigned to Gwenwyn his
goclden crownlet, gave him a title to the attendance of the
foot-bearer, or youth, who lay on the rushes, and whose
L3uty it was to cherish tlhi Prince's feet in his lap or bosom1.7
Notwithlstanding thle mnilitary displosition ofl tlhe ghests,
and the danger arising from the feuds into wbhich tley were
divided, few of the feasters wvore any defensive armnour,
excel)t thte light goat-skin buckler, whicl:  lung belin.d
each inan's seat.   On'tlhe otlher Iand, they xx ere well
provided  with  offensive  weapons;  for  the  brioad,




TiHIF  BETROTHED.                   25
sllarp, sho;t twvo-edged sword was another legacy of thle
RolllCIns.  INiost addled a wood-knife or p)oniardl; ana
theie were store of javelins, dcarts, bows andl arrows,
pikes, lialberds, Danish axes, and Welcll llooks and bills;
so, in case of ill-blood arising c!during thie banquet, tlhere
was no lack of weapons to work nlischlief.
B13ut although tile iorm of tile feast was somewha-lit cdisorderly, and tilat tile revellers were unrestrained by the
stricter rules of good-breeding wllicl tile laws of cllivalry
illposecd, the Easter banquet of Gwenwyn possessed, in
lthe attendance of twvelve eminent bards, one soturce of
thle most exalted pleasure, in a much lligher degree tllan
tile proud Normans could tllemselves boast.  TIle latter,
it is true, Ilad their minstrels, a race of men trained to tile
profession of poetry, song, and music; but a'ltlioutgh
tlhose arts vere higilly lIonoured, and the inrliviclual professors, when they attained to eminence, were often richlly
rewarded, and treated wit-h distinction, tile order of Iinstrels, as sucli, was lheldl in low esteem, being collml)osed
clidefly of' worthless and dissolute strollers, by llotil tile
art was assumed, in order to escal)e ftiom  tlje necessity
ol' labour, and to have tile nleans of puirsuing   a wa ntldering
and dissipated course of lile.   Suclt, in all times, Ilas
been tlhe censure upon thle calling of tliose vwho detlicate
tllernselves to  thle  public a1ltuselnent; among whloIn
those distinguished by individuall excellence are soml0etimnes raised  lligll in tile social circle, willile far tile inore
numerous professors, who only reach mediocrity, arc sunlk
into tile lower scale.   But suchl was not tile case with
tile order of bards in Wales, wlho, sllcceedling to tile dlgnity of the druids, under whom thley hlad originally fo in- 
ed a subordinate fraternity, llad many immIunities, were
held in the highest reverence and esteerm, and exercised
much influence with their countrynmet.  Tileir power
over the public mnind even rivalled tlhat of thle priests
themselves, to  whorn indeed  they bore somee resemblance; for they never wore arms, were initiated into
their order by secret and mystic solemnities, and honlage
v as rendered to their./wen, or flow of poetic inspiration,
voI,. I




26           TALES OF TILE CRUSADEURS
as if it h1ad been indeed marked wvith a divine character.
Thus possessed of poxvwer atld consequlence, thle bards
wvere not u:nwilling to esercise tlleir 1)rivileges, and sometimes, in d(oinl so, tiei'rmanners fi'equently savoured o01
caprice.
Tlhis was perhaps the case witl Cadwallon, the chief
bard of Gwelwvyn, and whlo, as sucl, was expected to
have p)outred forth the tide of song in the banquettinghiall of his prince.  But neitller the anxious and breathless expectation of tile assemnlled c1hiefs and cliaimpions
-neitlier the dead silence whlich stilled tlle roaring hall,
whien Ills harp was reverently  placed belore him by his
attendantl nor even the commands or entreaties of the
Prince himself — could extract fiom Cadwallon niaore than
a short and interrupted prelude upon the instrument, the
notes of whlich arranged tlihemselves into an air inexpressibly mournfull, and died away in silence.  The Prince
fiowned darkly on the bard, who was himself far too
dee.ply lost in gloomyi thought, to offer any apology, or
even to observe Ilis dispfleasure.  Again lhe touchled a few
wild notes, and, raising his looks upward, seemed  to
be on the very point of'bursting forth into a tide of song
similar to those with which this master of his art was
wont to enchlant his hearers.  But the eflort was in vain
— ie declared that hlis right hand was withered, and pushed tlle instrument from him.
A murmutir went round the company, and Gvenwyn
read in their aspects that tiley received the unusual silence of Cadwallon on this higih occasion as a bad onien.
I-le called hastily on a young and ambitions bard, named
(;aradoc of Alienwy gent, whlose rising fitme was likely soon
to vie withl the established reputation of Cadwnallon, ainG
sutlmoned him to sing sometlling which might commalnd
the applause of his sovereign and the glratitude of' the
company.  The young man was amblitious. and tnderstood tdle arts of a courtier.  He conm!uened a poem,
in whlicl, althoughl under a feigned name, le drew such a
poetitc pictiu e of Eveline Beren ger, that Gwenwyn  wasn
enraptured; and whlile all wvlo had seen the beautitfil




TIIE BETROTHED.                     27
or0iginal at once recognized tile resemblance, tile eves oI
tile Prince confessed at once his passion for tile subject,
and his adlniration of the poet.  The figures of' Celtic
poetry, in tllemselves highly imaginative, were scarce
sufficient for the enthusiasum  of the alnlbitious bard, rising in his tone as lie perceived the feelings which lie
was excitilni,.  Tile praises of tile Prince mingled with
tllose of thle Norlman beauty; and " as a lion," said
the p:oet, "C can only be led by the hand of a clhaste and
beautiful maiden, so a chlief can only acknowledge the
empire of the most virtuous, tlme most lovely of her sex.
Who asks of tile noon-day sun, in wllat quarter of the
world lie was born? and wllo slhall ask of sulch charms
as hlers, to what country thle) owe tlleir bilrth?"
Entlhusiasts in pleasure as in vwar, and possessed of
iinaginations whicll answered readily to the summons of
their poets, the WVelch chiefs and leaders united in acclanmations of applause; and the song of the bard went
firtl-er to ren(ler poplular the intended alliance of the
rince, than had all tIle graver arguments of his priestly
precursor in the sainme toplic.
Gwenivyn hiself;, in a transport of delight, tore off
tlhe golden bracelets which lie wore, to bestow them upon a hard whlose song had produced an effect so desirable; and said, as lie looked at tile silent and sullen Cadwallon,'6 The silent harp was never strung with golden
wires."
"- Prince," answered the bard, whose pride was at
least equal to that of Gwenwyn himself, " you pervert the
proverb of Taliessin-it is the flattering harp, which
never lacked golden strings."
Gwenwyn, turning sternly towards him, was about to
mnake an angry answer, wllen tile sultlden appearance of
Jorworthl, the messenger whom  lie had despatched to
Raymond Berenger, arrested ilis purpose.  This rude
envoy entc:red tile hall bare-legged, excepting the sandals
of goat-skin which he wore, and lhaving on his shr ulder a
cloak of the same, and a short javelin in his hand.  The
lust mn his g;arments, and the flush on his brow. showed




i28         TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
vith whlat hasty zeal l.is errand hlad been  cxecutcd.
G(;\Veny  lellne(i-etldel of' Iiim e'0'erl y'lX   l,it ews fi'rr
Garde Dolotireuse, Jorworth ap) Jev~an?"
"I bear them in my bosoin," said the son of Jevarl
and, with much reverence, lhe delivered to tle Prince a
packet, bounld with silk, and sealed with thle impression
of a swan, the ancient cognizance of tlhe House of' Berenger.  Hhimself iglnorant ol writing or readir.g, Gwenwyn119 in anxious haste, delivered the letter to Cadwallon,
Who usually acted as secretary whien thle chaplain was
not ina presence, as cllanced then to be thle case.  Cadwvallon looking at tie letter, said briefly, " I read no
Latin.  Ill betide the Normnan, who writes to a Prince
of Powys in other language tllan tllhat of Britain! and
well was ttle h]ooiu', whien tl)at nt-l)Ile tongDule alone was
spoken fiom Tintac-dgel to Cairleoil!"
Gwxvenwyn only replied to him with an angry glance.
( Wllere is Father ]iniorn?" said thle impatient l)rince.
H"   e assists in the church," replied one of hIis attendants,'" for it is the feast of Saint    "
"  Were it the feast of Saint David," said Gwenwyn,' and were the pyx between his hands, lie must come
hither to me instantly!"
One of the chief henchmen sprung off, to command
his attendance, and, in the meantime,. Gwenwyn eyed
the letter containing  the secret of his fate, but which iL
required an interpreter to read, with such eagerness and
anxiety, that Caradoc, elated by his former success,
threw in a few notes to divert; if possible, the tenor of
his patron's thoughts during the interval.  A liglit and
lively air, touclled by a hand which seemed to hlesitate,
like the submissive voice of an inferior, fearing to interrupt his master's meditations, introduced a stanza or two
applicable to the suhLject.
And what tlhotirh thou, 0 scroll," he said, apostrophizing the letter, which lay on tlhe table before his mnas
ter, " dost  speak with the tongue of the stranger
Hath not. the cuckow a harsh note, and vet she tells us
of green buds and springing flowers?  Whar if thv lan



THTE BETROTHIED. * 
giage be tlhat of thle stoled priest, is it not the same
whiicll binds henarts and liaiids togetlher   at the altar?
And what tiloigih tlhou delayest to render ll) thy treasures, are not all pl)eastures nIost sxweet, wlenl enhllanced
by expectation?   Whlat were the ctlase, if' the deer
dropped at otur feet thle instant lie started firoln the cover
— or what valiue were there in the love of the maiden,
were it yielded wvithout coy' delay?"
The song of' tle bard was hlere broken short by the
entrance of the Jpriest, illo, Ilasty in obeying the summons of his impatient malster, had not tarried to lay aside
even the stole, wvhicll he had worn in the holy service;
and many of the elders thought it was no good omen,
that, so habited, a priest should appear in a festive asseimbly, and amid prolane minstrelsy.
The priest opened the letter of the Norman Baron,
and, struck with surprise at the contents, lifted his eyes
in silence.
" Read it!" exclaimed the fierce Gwenwyn.
"So please you," replied the more prudent chaplain,
" a smaller company were a fitter audience."
" Read it aloud!" repeated the Prince, in a still higher
tone; " there sit none hiere who respect not the honour
of their prince, or who deserve not his confidence.  Read
it, I say, aloud! and by Saint David, if Raymond the
Norlman hath dared-  "
He stopped short, and, reclining on his seat. composed himself to an attitude of attention; but it was easy
for his followers to fill up the breach in his exclamation
wlhich prudence had recommended.
The voice of the Chaplain was low and ill-assured as
1ha read the following epistle:"Raymond Berenger, the noble Norman Klliglht, Seneschal of tile Garde Doloureulse, to Gwenwyn, Prince
of Powys, (May peace be between them!) sendetll health.
"Your letter, craving tile hand of our dauglJter Eve.
line Berenger, was safely delivered to us by your servant.
VOL,  T




30         TAILES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Jorworth ap Jevan, and we thank you heartily for the
good meaning therein expressed to us and to ours.  But,
considering within ourselves the difference of blood and
lineage, with the impediments and causes of offence
which have often arisen in the like cases, we hold it fitter to match our daughter among our own people; and
this by no case in disparagement of you, but solely for
the weal of you, of ourselves, and of our mutual dependants, who will be the more safe from the risk of quarrel
betwixt us, that we essay not to draw the bonds of our
intimacy more close than beseemeth. The sheep and
the goats feed together in peace on the same pastures,
but they mingle not in blood, or race, the one with the
other. Moreover, our daughter Eveline hath been sought
in marriage by a noble and potent Lord of the Marches,
Hugo de Lacy, the Constable of Chester, to which most
honourable suit we have returned a favourable answer.
It is therefore impossible that we should in this matter
grant to you the boon you seek; nevertheless, you shall
at all times find us, in other matters, willing to pleasure
you; and hereunto we call God, and Our Lady, and
Saini Mary Magdalene of Quatford, to witness; to whose
keeping we heartily recommend you.
" Written by our command, at our Castle of Garde
Doloureuse, within the Marches of Wales, by a reverend priest, Father Aldrovand, a black monk of the house
of'Wenlock - and to which we have appended our seal,
upon the eve of the blessed martyr Saint Alphegius, to
whom be honour and glory!"
The voice of Father Einion faltered, and the scroll
which he held in his hand trembled in his grasp, as he
arrived at the conclusion of this epistle; for well he
knew that insults more slight than Gwenwyn would hold
the least word it contained, were sure to put every
drop of his British blood into the most vehement commotion. Nor did it fail to do so. The Prince had gradnally drawn himself up from the posture of repose in
vhht ch he had pi "pared to listen to the epistle; and whent




THE BETROTHED.                   3!
it concluded, he sprung on his feet like a startled lion,
spurning fiom him as he rose the foot-bearer, who rolled
at some distance on the floor.  " Priest,' he said, " hast
thou read that accursed scroll fairly? for if thou hasi
added, or diminished, one word, or one letter, I will
have thine eyes so handled, Lhat thou shalt never read
letter more!"
The monk replied, trembling, (for he was well aware
that the sacerdotal character was not uniformly respected among the irascible Welchmen,) " By the oath of
my order, nmighty prince, I have read word for word,
and letter for!etter."
There was a momentary pause, while the fury ot
Gwenwyn, tit this unexpected affront, offered to him in
the presence cf all his Uckelwyr, (i. e. noble chiefs, literally men of high stature,) seemed too big for utterance,
when the silence was broken by a few notes from  the
hitherto mute harp of Cadwallon. The Prince looked
round at first with displeasure at the interruption, for he
was himself about to speak; but when lie beheld the
bard bending over his harp with an air of inspiration,
and blending to-ether, with unexampled skill, the wildest
and most exalted tones of his art, lie hirnself became an
auditor instead of a speaker, and Cadwallon, not the
Prince, seemed to become the central point of the assembly, on whom all eyes were bent, and to whom each
ear was turned with br'eathless eagerness, as if his strains
were the responses of an oracle.
W"   e wed not with the stranger," —thus burst the
song from  the lips of the poet.  " Vortigern wedded
with the stranger; thence came the first woe upon Britain, and a sword upon her nobles, and a thunderbolt upon
her palace.  We wed not with the enslaved Saxon —the
fiee and princely stag seeks not for his bride the heifer
whose neck the yoke hath worn.  We wed not with the
rapacious Norman —the noble hound scorns to seek a
mate from the herd of ravening wolves.  Whenn was it
heard that the Cymry, the descendants of Brute, the:rue children of the soil of fair Britain. were plundered.




3 2          TALES OF THII, CRUSADER3I
opplressed, bereft of their l)irtll-righlt, and liust!!eed even
in tlleir last retreats? —wllen, but silnce tile) stretclihld
their fhand ill firiendslli}) to tile stranger, and claspled to
their boso-ms tile daughter of the Saxon?  WWhich of
the two is feared? —tlie empty water-course of summer,
or the channel of the headlong winter torrent; —A maiden smiles at the suinmer-sl-rook brook wliile shle crosses
it, but a barbed horse and his rider will fear to stern tlhe
-inttry flood.  Mlen of Mathraval and Powys, be tlhe
dreaded floodof vinter-Gwenwyn, son of Cyverliock!
— may thy l)lulme be thle  topmost of its vaves!"
All tlloughts of peace, tlioughts which, in themselves,
were foreign to the hiearts of the warlike British, p)assed
before the song of Cadwallon like dust before the whirlwvind, and the unanimous shout of tile assembly declared
for instant  iar.  The Prince himself spoke not, but,
looking proudly around him, flung abroad his arm, as
one who cheers his followers to the attack.
The priest, had lie dared, might have reminded Gwenwyn, that the Cross which he lhad assumed on his slioulder, had consecrated his arm to the Holy War, and preeiluded his engaging in any civil strife.  But the task
was too dangerous for Father Einion's courage, and he
shrunk from the h1all to the seclusion of his own convent.
Caradoc, whose brief hour of popularity was past, also
retired, with-h-lumble and dejected looks, and not without
a giance of indigtiation at his triumphant rival, who 1had
so judiciously reserved his display of art for the theme
of wvar, that wvas ever most popular with thle audience.
The chiefs resumed  their seats no longer for the
purpose of festivity, but to  fix in the  hasty  inanner customary  amtong  these  prcmpt warriors  where
tley  were to assemble thleir ~rorces, which, upon such
occasions, comprehended almost all thle able-bodied males
of the country, —for all, excepting the priests and thel
bards, vwere soldiers,-and to settle the order of their descent upon the devoted marchles, whllere they proposed tc
signalize, by general ravage, their sense of the insult vwhic.
their prince had received, by:the rejection of his suit-.




T1IE BETRPOTHIIED                     S
CHAPTER III.
The sands are number'd, that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here.my lilit must end.
I-teny V1. Act,.. Scene IV.
XXTHEN Raymond  Berenger had despatched his mission to the Prince of Powys, lie was not unsuspicious,
dclougih altogetller fearless, of the result.  Ile sent Inessen-gers to the several dependants who held their fiefs
by the tenure of cornpace, and warned thenm to be on the
alert, that lie miglit receive instant notice of the approach
of the enermy.  These vassals, as is well known, occupied the numnerous towers, whiclh, like so many falconnests, had been built on the points most convenient to
defend the frontiers, and were bound to give signal of
any incursion of the Welch, by blowing their horns;
which sounds, answered firom  tower to tower, and from
station to station, gave the alarm  for general defence.
But although Raymond considered these precautions as
necessary, from the fickle and precarious temper of his
neighbours, and for maintaining his own credit as a soldier, he was far from  believing the danger to be irnminent; for the preparations of the Welch, though on a
much more extensive scale than had lately been usual,
were as secret, as their resolution of war had beeni suddenly adopted.
It was upon the second morning after the memorable
festival of Castell-Coch, that the tempest broke on tlhe
Normarl frontier.  At first a single, long, and keen bttgleblast, ainnounced the approach of the enemy; presently
tile signals of alarm Nwere echoed firom  every castle and
tower on tile borders of Shropshire, where every p)lace
of htbitation was then a fortress.  }Beacons were litrlhted
upon crals and emiinences, the bells were rung backward
mn tb  churches and towns. while the Eeneral an.d eariest




34          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
summons to arms announced an extremity of dangei
which even tlhe inhabitants of that unsettled country hJad
not hitlherto experienced.
Amnid this general alarm, Raymond Berenger, having
busiedl himself in arranging his fe\w but gallant folloxwers
and adllerents, and taken suchl modes of prIocuring  intelligence of the enemy's strength and motions as were in
his power, at length. ascended the watch-tower of the
castle, to observe in person the country around, already
obscured in several places by the clouds of smoke, which
announced the progress and the ravages of the invaders.
He was speedily joined by his favourite squire, to whvlom
the unusual heaviness of his master's looks was cause of
much surprise, for till now they had ever been blithest
at the hour of battle.  The squire held in his hand his
master's helmet, for Sir Raymond was all armed, saving
the head.
" Dennis Morolt," said the veteran soldier, "are our
vassals and liegenmen all mustered?"
"All, noble sir, but the Fleinings, who are not yet
come in."
" The lazy hounds, why tarry they?" said Raylnond.
" Ill policy it is to plant such sluggish natures in our borders.  They are like their own steers, fitter to tug a
plough than for aught that requires mettle."
" With your favour," said Dennis, " the knaves can
do good service notwithstanding.  That Wilkin Flanmmock of' the Green can strike like the hammers of his
own fulling-mill."
"He will fight, I believe, when he carnot help it,"
said Raymond;'" but he has no stomach for such exercise, and is as slow and as stubborn as a mule."'And therefore are his countrymen rightly matclhed
against the Welch," replied Dennis M: orolt, " tlhat their
solid and unyielding temper may be a fit foil to the fiery
and headlong dispositions of our dangerous neighboutrs,
lust as restless waves are best opposed by steadfast rocks.
— Hark,  sir I hear Wilkin Flammock's step ascending




THE  BETROTHED                       35
the turret-stair, as deliberately as ever iaonk mounted to
Ilmat ills.
Step l))- step thle heavy sountl  approachled, until the
formn of tile Iuge and substantial Flezinigl at lengtll issued( fr'om the turret-door to tile!platform wilere they were
co(lversi'll.   Wil.kin  Flaiitnockl was cased  in lbriiglit'urariollr, of unusual weighot and11  tllicikness, and cleaned
witli exceeding  care, \vlicli nlarked tile neatness of Iiis
nation; bhut, contrary to tile custom  of thle Nornlans,
entirely plain, an(l  voi(l of carving, gilding, or any sort
of o)rilarnent.  Tlhe basenet, or steel-cap, had no visor.
and left exposed a broad countenance, with heavy and
unp)liable features, wllich announced the character of his
temnper and untlerstanding.   He carried in his hand a
heavy mace.
"So, Sir Fleming," said the Castellane, " you are in
no tlurry, rnethinks, to repair to the rendezvoLus."
" So please you," answered the Fleming, " we were
compelled to tarry, that we mighllt load our wains xirth
our bales of cloth and othel property.": Fla! vains?-how many wains have you brought
witll you?"
Six, noble sir," replied Wilkin.
" And how  many men?" demanded Raymond  Berenter.
"Twelve, valiant sir," answered Flamrnmock.
"Only two  hmeni to each baggae-xwain? I wonder
you would tlhus enculmber yourself," said Berenger.'" Under yourl falvour, sir', once Imore," rel)lied Wi;kin,
" it is only tile valute wvhich I and my cotnradtes set ulpon
our goods, tllat iiclines us to defendl thlem  vith our bodies; and, hlId wve beel obliged to leave oiur clotlh to tlle
plundering clutchles of y onder vagabonids, I siloltld hnave
seen small policy in stol)ping lere to give theln tle opportunity of a(tding rmurder to robblery.   Gloucester
should llave been my filrst halting-place."
Thle Normnan kniglit g azed on tlie Flemnish artisan, for
Stch was Wil1kimi Flamnml ock, with s(lchl a nmlixture o(f st1rLprise ami:d contempt, as excluded indignation.  " I have




~36         TALES OF THE CRUSADEIS.
h3ard rnuch," lihe said, "' but this is the first tinme tllhat I
have hleard one with a beard on hlis li) avouch himsell
tla cowarl'd."
Nor do you heal it now," answered Flaemmock, with
the utmlost coml)osure —' I am always  ready to figlht for
lite and property; and my coming to tllis country, where
they are both in constant danger, shows that 1 care not
much h,1ow often I do so.  But a sound skin is better
than a slashed one, for all that."
" Well," said Raymond Berenger, " fight after thline
own fashion, so thou wilt but figlit stoutly with that long
body of thine.  We are like to have need for all that we
can do.-Saxw you aught of these rascaille Welch?have they Gwenwyn's banner amlongrst tllem?
" i saw it with the white dragon displayed," replied
VVilkin; " I could not but know it, since it was broidered in mny own loom."
Rtaymond looked so grave upon this intelligence, thal
Dennis Mlorolt, unwillincg the Fleming should mark it,
thou-ght it necessary to withdraw his attention.  " 1 can
tell thee," lie said to Fiammock, " that when the Constable of Chester joins us with his lances, you shall see your
handy-work, tile dragon, fly faster homeward thanl ever
flew the shuttle whlich wove it."
" It must fly before the Constable comes up, Dennis
Morolt," said Berenger, " else it will fly triumphant over
all our bodies."
"In the name of God and the Holy Virgin!" said Dennis, "  what may you mean, Sir Knight?-not that we
slhould fight with the Welch before the Constable joins
us?" —1e paused, and then, wvell understanding the firm,
yet melancholy glance, with which his master answered
the question, lie lproceeded, with yet more vel hement earnestness —"  You cannot mean it-you cannot intend thlat
we shall quit this castle, which we have so often made
good against them, and contend in the field witlh twc
hllndred men against thousands?-Think better of' it, my
beloved master, and let not the rashness of your old age




THIE BsETrIOTnHED.                 37
blemish that character for wisdom and warlike skill, which
yOu(r  lrilner lifeb llas SO ilobly wvol'."
1 ain not anrlly witht you iior blaining  my purpose.
Dennis," allswered thle Normann, " for I know you do it
in love to ien and nline.  But, Dennis Alorolt, tiis thing
mlust be-we  lLmust fight the Welchnman within these three
hours, or tlhe name of Raymnond Berenger must be blotted from  tlhe genealogy of his house."
" And so we will-we will figlt theem, my noble master," said tile esquire; " fear not cold counsel fiom
Dennis Morollt, where battle is the theme.  But we will
fight the.m  under tile walls of the castle, with honest
Wilkin Flaremock and llis cross-bows on the wall to protect our flanks, and afford us some balance against the
numelrous odds."
" Not so, Dennis," answered his master-"- in the
open field we must fight them, or thy master must rank
but as a man-sworn knight.  Know, that when 1 feasted
yonder wily savage in my halls at Christmas, and when
the wine was fo;-ving fastest around, Gweniwyn threw out
some praises of the fastness and strength of my castle,
in a Inaniner  llhich intimated it was these advantages
alone that had secured me in former wars from defeat and
captivity.  I spoke in answer,  when I had far better been
silent; for what availed mIly idle boast, bhut as a fetter to
bind me to a deed next to madness?  If; I said, a prince
of the Cyrnry shall again come in hostile fashion before
the Garde Dolollreuse, let hiln pitch his standard dowsn
in yonder plain by the bridge, and, by the word of a
goodl knigllt, and the faith of a Christian man, Raymond
Berenger will meet him  as willingly be lie many or be
lie few, as ever Welceman was met withal."
Dennis was struck speechless when lie heard of a
pi)olise so rash, so fatal; but his was not the casuist y
whicll could release his master friom  the fetters with
wvlichl his unwary confidence had bound ]lim.  It was
otherwise with WXVilkin Flaemmnock.  He stared —h(i almost ]atughed, notwithstanding the reverence due to the
3  VOl,. i.




38          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Castellane, and his own insensibility to risible emotio is
" And is this all?" he said.  "If your honour had pledg
ed yourself to pay one hundred florins to a Jew or to
a Lombard, 1no doubt you must have kept the day, or
forfeited your pledge; but surely one day is as good
as another to keep a promise for fighting, and that
day is best in which the promiser is strongest.  But
indeed, after all, what signifies any promise over a
wvine-flagon?"
"It signifies as much as a promise can do that is given elsewhere.  The promiser," said Berenger, " escapes not the sin of a word-breaker, because he hath
been a drunken braggart."
" For the sin," said Dennis, " sure I am, that rather
than you should do such deed of dole, the Abbot ol
Glastonbury would absolve you for a florin."
" But what sharll wipe out the shame!" demanded
Berenger —" how  shall I dare to show myself again
among press of knights, who have broken my word of
battle pledged, for fear of a Welchman and his naked
savages?  No! Dennis Morolt, speak of it no more.
Be it for weal or woe, we fight them to-day, and upon
yonder fair field."
" It may be," said Flammock, " that Gwenwyn may
have forgotten the promise, and so fail to appear to claim
it in the appointed space; for, as we heard, your wines
of France flooded his Welch brains deeply."
" He again alluded to it"on the morning after it was
made,'? said the Castellane —" trust me, he will not fobr
get what will give him such a chance of removing me
room his path forever."
As he spoke, they observed that large clouds of dust,
which had been seen at different points of the landscape,
were drawing down towards the opposite side of the river, over which an ancient bridge extended itself to the
appointed place of combat.  They were at no loss to
conjecture the cause.  It was evident that Gwenwyn,
recalling the parties who had been engaged in partial
devastation, was bending with his whole forces towards
the bridge and the plain beyond it.




THE BETROTHED.                  39
" Let us rush down and secure the pass,". said Dennis AMorolt; " we may debate with them  with -ome
equality by the advantage of defending the bridge.
Your word bound you to the plain as to a field of battle,
but it did noi oblige you to forego such advantages as
the passage of the bridge would afford.  Our men, our
horses are ready-let our bowmen secure the banks, and
my life on the issue."
"When I promised to meet him  in yonder field, I
meant,"  replied Raymofid Berenger, " to give the
Welchman the full advantage of equality of ground. 1
so meant it-he so understood it; and what avails keeping my word in the letter, if I break it in the sense?
We move not till the last WVelchlman has crossed the
bridge; and then    "
" And then," said Dennis, "we move to our death?
-May God forgive our sins! Biut.
"  But what?" said Berenger; " something sticks in
thy mind that should have vent."
"' My young lady, your daughter the Lady Eveline-"
" I have told her what is to be.  She shall remain in
the castle, where I will leave a few chosen veterans,
with you, Dennis, to command them.  In twenty-four
hours the siege will be relieved, and we have defended
it longer with a slighter garrison.  Then to her aunt,
the.LAbbess of the Benedictine sisters-thou, Dennis,
will see her placed there in honour and safety, and my
sister will care for her future provision as her wisdom
shall determine."
" Ileave you at this pinch!" said Dennis Morolt,
bursting into tears-" Ishut myself up within walls,
when my master rides to his last of battles!-I become
esquire to a lady, even though it be to the Lady Eveline.,when he lies dead under his shield! —Raymond Berenger, is it for this that I have buckled thy armour so often?"
The tears gushed from the old warrior's eyes as fast
t. frion those of a girl who weeps for her lover; and
Raymond, taking him  kindly by the hand, said, in a
soothling tone, "' Dn not think. m3y good old servant
tnGt




40          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
that, were honour to be won, I would drive thee fronm
niy Eide.  But this is a wild and an inconsiderate deedtt,
tto which my fate or my foliy has bound me.   I die to
save nmy name fiom dishonour; but, alas! I must leave
on mrt memory the charge of imprudence."
"Let me share your imprudence, my dearest mas-,r," said Dennis Morolt, earnestly;-" the poor esquire
has no business to be thought wiser than his master.
In many a battle my valour derived some little fame fiom
partaking in the deeds which won your renown -deny
ne not the right to share in that blame which your
temerity may incur; let them not say, that so rash was
his action, even his old esquire was not permitted to partake in it! I am part of yourself-it is murder to every
man whom you take with you, if you leave me behind."
"Dennis," said Berenger, " you make me feel yet
more bitterly the folly I have yielded to. I would grant
you the boon you ask, sad as it is-But my daughter-"
"Sir Knight," said the Flemning, who had listened to
this dialogue with somewhat less than his usuaIl apathy,
" it is not my purpose this day to leave this castle;
now, if you could trust my troth to do what a plain man
may for the protection of my Lady Eveline    "
" How, sirrah!" said Raymond; " you do not propose to leave the castle?  Who gives you right to propose or dispose in the case, until my pleasure is known?"
"' I shall be sorry to have words with you, Sir Castellane," said the imperturbable Fleming;-" but I hold
here, in this townshli), certain mlills, tenements, clothyards, and so forth, for which I amr. to pay man-service
in defendling this Castle of thle Gardle Doloureuse, and
in this I am ready.  But if you call pn me to march
from hence, leaving the same castle dtfenceless, and to
ftfer up my life in a battle which youl acknowledge to be
desperate, I must needs say my tenure binds me not to
obey thee."
" Base mechanic!" saidl Morolt, laying his liand on
his dagger, and menacing the Fleming.




TIHE BETROTIIED.                  41
But Raymond Berenger interfered with.oice and
hand — " Harim  him not, Morolt, and blame Iiim  3not.
He lath a sense of duty, though not after our manner;
and ble and his knaves will figlht best behind stone walls.
They are taught also, these Flemings, by the practice of
their oTn1 country, the attack and  defence of walled
cities and fortresses, and are especially skilful in working
of mangonels and military engines.  There are several
of his countrymen in the castle, besides his own followvers.   These I propose to leave behind;  and I think
they wvill obey him mlore readily than any but mysell —
how think'st thou?  Thou would'st not, I know, from a
miscoinstrued point of lionour, or a blind love to me,
leave this important place, and the safety of Eveline, in
doubtful hands?"
" Wilkin Flamnmock is but a. Flemish  clown, noble
sir," answered-Dennis, as much overjoyed as if he had
obtained some important advantage; " but I must needs
say lhe is as stout and true as any wvhom you might trust;
and, besides, his own shrewdness will teach him there is
more to be gained by clefending sucli a castle as thiis,
than by yielding it to strangers, who may not be likely
to keep tile terms of surrender, however fairly they may
offer them."
" It is fixed then," said Raymond Berenger. 1" Then,
Dennis, thou shalt go withi me, and lie sllall remain behlind.-Wilkin Flamin-mock,"  lie said, addressing  the
Fleming solemnly, " I speak not to thee the languange of
chivalry. of' which tlhou knowest notlhing; but, as tlhou
art an honest man, and a true Clhristian, I conjure thee
to stalnd to tile defence of thlis castle.   Let no promise
of thle enemy draw  thee to any base composition —ne
tlIleat to any surrender.  Relief ~zmust speedily arrive;
if you fulfi. your trust to me and to iny datughter, Huge
(le Lacy wvill reward you richly-if you fail, lie will punish you severely."'. Sir Knight," said Flammock, " I am pleased you
have put your trust so far in a plain  handicraftsmal,
VOLC   I




42          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
For the Welch, I am  conie from a land for whicl w!
were compelled —yearly compelled-to  struggle with
the sea; and tlhe)y who can deal with thle waves in a
tempest, need not fear an undisciplined  people in their
fury.   Your daughter shall be as dear to me as mine
own; and in that faith you may prick forth-if,.ndeed,
you will not still, like a wiser man, shut gate, down port.
cullis, up draw-bridge, and let your archers and my
cross-bows mana the wall, and tell the knaves you are not
the fool tlhat they take you for."
" Good fellow, that must not be," said the Knight.
"   hear my daughter's voice," he added hastily; " I
would not again meet her, again to part firom her;  To
Heaven's keeping I commit thee, honest Fleming-Follow me, Dennis Morolt."
The old castellane descended the stair of the southern tower hastily, just as his daughter Eveline ascended
that of the eastern turret, to throw herself at his feet once
iore.   She was followed by the Father Aldrovand,
clhaplain of her father; by an old and almost invalided
hIuntsman, whose more active services in the field and
the chase had been for some time chiefly limited to thle
superilltendence of the Knighlt's kennels, and the charge
especially of his more favourite hounds; and by Rose
Flamrnock, the daullter of Wilkin, a blue-eyed Flemish
maiden, round, plumlp, and sly as a partridge, whio had
been for some time permittedi to keepl company witll the
hligl-'born Norman dlamnisel, in a doubtfiul station, betwixt
that of an humble friend and  superior domestic.
Eveline rushed upon the battlements, her hair dishevelled, and her eyes drowned in tears, and, eagerly denanded of the Fleming where lher father was?
Flaininock made a clumsy reverence, and attempted
some answer; but his voice seemed to fail hlim.  He
turned his back upon Eveline without ceremony, and
totally disregarding tle anxious inquiries of tile huntsman an i the chaplain, lhe said lhastily to his daughter, in




THE  BETROTHED.                      43
his own la.lguage, " Mad work! maIl work! look to the
poor maiden, 1ocschen —Der alter Hlerrl st ve ruckt."~
Without further speech he descended tile stairs, and
never paused till he reached the buttery.  Here he called like a lion for tile controller of these regions, by the
various names of Kammerer, Keller-master, ancd so lorth,
to wllich tile old Reinold, an ancient Noriian esquiire, allswered not, until the Netherlander folrtnltely recollected
his Anglo-Normlan title oft' butler. Tlhis, his regular namlle
of office, was the key to the buttery hattcih,  and tile old
nan instantly appeared, witll his grey cassock, and higll
rolled hose, a ponlderous bunch of keys susl)enled by a
silver chain to his broad leathern girtdle, whlich, in consideration of the ernergen cy of the time, lie lhad thought
it right to balance on the left side with a lhuge falchlioh,
which seemed much too weighty for his old armn to wield.
Wllhat is your will," lie said, " MasteliFlalnlock?
orlwhat are your commands, since it is my lord's pleasure that they shall be laws to me for a tile?"'; Only a cup of wine, good M eistei Keller-master —
butler, I mean."
"I am glad you remember the name of mine office,"
said Reinold, wvith sonme of thle p)etty resentmlent o  a
spoiled domestic, whio tlinks tliat a stranger has been irregularly)L put in command over lim.
"A flagon of  llhenislh, if yon love me,"  answered
the Flemill,     b0 lr )y hleart is low anllld lI)(O  w'itlin l IC,
and I must nee(ts dr'ink of tile best."
" And drink  ou sllhall," said Reinoldl, " if dr ink,'ill
give yoti tile courage w-lichl p)erhlia)s yoln mla;'  wanllt."lie descended to the secret crypts, of wllichl }he was the
gulardian, and retlrned witll a silver flagon, whlichl nlliglll
contain about a quIllart.-'" tere is suchl wlie," said lIcinold, " as tl:)lou hast sldo   tasted,"':ndl was about to
potir it out into a cuI).
"Nay, the flagon- -tlie flagon, friend tRe:inold; I love
a deep and soletnnmdraugllt when tlle busitless is weiglt}y,"
* The old lord is frantic.




44          TALES OF TIIE CRUSADERS.
said Wilkin.  He seized on the flagon acc3aroingly, antd
drinking a prel)aratory moutlhfiul, paused as if to estilnate
the strenttli and flavour of thle gellerous liquor.  Appareltly lie vwas pleased witll botll, for lie!nodded in ap-.
probation to the bultler; and, raising the flagon to his
mouth once more, lie slovly and gradually broutglht thle
bottom of the vessel parailel wvith the roof of the apartmenlt, withlout suffering one drop of' the contents to escape him.
"Tlhat hath savrour, Herr Keller-master,"  said lie,
while lie was recovering  his breath by intervals, after so
long a suspense of respiration; " but, may heaven forgivre you for thinking it tile best 1 hlave ever tasted
You little know the cellars of Ghent and of Ypres."
" And I care not for thenl," said Reinold;' those
of gentle Norman blood, hold tile rvines of Gascony and
Fr-ance, generous, liglit, and cordial, worth all the acid
potations of the Rhlllne and tile Neckar."
" All is matter of taste," saidl thle Fleming; "but
hark ve  Is there muchl of thlis wvine in thle cellar?"
M" _~lethotight,. lut now it pleased not your dainty palate?" said Reinold.
" Nay, nay, my fiiend," said Wilkin, " I said it had
savour-I may ihave drunk better-but this is righlt good,
wvlhere better may not be had.-Again, how muchl of it
hlast thoul?"
" Thle whole butt, man," answered the butler; " I
have broachled a firesh piece for yotl."
"Good," replied Flainmock; " get thle quart-pot of
Christian measure; ]leave the cask up into this satne
buttery, and let each soldier of this castle be served with
such a cup as I have here swallowed.  I feel it hath
dlone me much goodl —my heart was sinking when 1 saw
tlle black smoke arising firom  r: ne own fillling-mills yonder.  Let each man, I say, i-Nve a full quart-pot —-men
defelld not castles on tlhinl liqulors."
I  Inust do as you will, good XWilkin Flamloc<k,"
said the butler; " but I pray remember all men are not
alike   That vwhich will but warin your Flemish hearts,




THE  BlETROTHE D.                   4A
will put wildfire into Norman brains; and what may only
elicourage your countrymen to man the walls, will lnake
ours fly over the battlements."
"Well, you know thle conditions of your own countrymen best; serve out to tlhem  lwhat wines and ineasure you list-only let each Flemling have a solemn quart
of Rhenisl.-I3ut what will you do for the Englisli
rll;rls, of wlom there are a right many left with us?"
Tlhe old butler l)ausedt, and rubbed his brow. —" There
will be a stian(ge waste of liquor," he said; " and yet
I may not deny that the emergency may defend the exp:enditure.  But for the Englisli, they are, as you   -ot,
a mixed breed, having much of your German sullenness, together with a plentifiul touch of the hot blood of
yonder Welcll furies.   Lighlt wines stir them  not;
strong heavy draugllts would madden them.  "lWhat think
vou of' ale, an  invigorating, strengtihening  liquor, that
warmls tle heart witllout ilflaming tlhe brain?"
"' Ale!" said tlle Fleming."-"   Hum-lia- is your
ale mighllty, Sir Butler?-is it double ale?"' D)o you doubt my skill?" said the butler. —" March
and October have witnessed  me ever as they  came
rounld, for thirty  years, deal with the best barley in
Shropsllire.-Yoti shalll judge."
He filled, fromn a large hogsliead in the corner of the
buttery, the flagon which the Fleming hlad j)ust emptied,
and which -was nlo sooner replenished than Wilkin again
drained it to the bottomn.
" Good ware,"' lie said, " Master Butler, strong stinging ware.  The English churls will fight like devils up
on it-let them be furnished with miglhty ale along with
their beef and brown bread.  And now, having  given
you your charge, Master Reinold, it is time I should look
after mline own."
WVilkin Flammock left the buttery, and with a mien
and judgment alike undisturbed by the deep potations
in which lie had so recently indulged, undisturbed alsc
bjy the various rumours concerning  what was passing
wtithout doors, he made the round of the castle and its




46         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS&
out-works, mustered the little garrison, and assigned( to
each their posts, reserving to his own countrymen the
management of the arblasts, or cross-bows, and of the
military engines which were contrived by the proud Normans, and were incomprehensible to the ignorant Englislh, or, more properly, Anglo-Saxons, of the period
bult which his more adroit countrymen managed with
great address.  The jealousies entertained by both the
Normans and English, at being placed under the temporary command of a Fleming, gradually yielded to the
military and mechanical skill which he displayed, as well
as to a sense of the emergency, which became greatei
with every moment.
CHAPTER IV.
Beside yon brigg, out ower yon burn,
Where the water bickereth bright and sheen,
Shall many a falling courser spurn,
And knights shall die in battle keen.
Prophecy of Thomas the Rhyme?.
THE  daughlter of Raymond Berenger, with the attendants whom we have mentioned, continued to remain
upon the battlements of the Garde Doloureuse, in spite
of the exhortations of the priest that she would rather
await the issue of this terrible interval in the chapel, and
amid the rites of religion.  He perceived, at length, that
she was incapable, from grief and fear, of attending to,
or understanding his advice; and, sitting down beside
her, while the huntsman and Rose Flammock stood by,
endeavoured to suggest such comfort as perhaps he
scarcely felt himself.
" This is but a sally of your noble father's," lie said;
"' and though it may seem it is made on great hazard.
yet Nlwho ever questioned Sir Raymond Berenger's policy




THE BETROTHED.                   4
of  wars? —He is close and secret in his purposes.   I
guess right well he had not marched out as he proposes,
unless he knew that the noble Earl of Arundel, or the
mighty Constable of Chester, were close at hand."
" T'llink you this assuredly, good father?-Go, Raou2'
-go, my dearest Rose-look to the east-see if yeu
cannot descry banners or clouds of dust. —[,isten-listen
-hear you no trumpets firom that quarter?"
" Alas! my lady," said  Raoul, " the thunder of
heaven could scarce be heard amid tile howling of yonder Welch wolves."   Eveline turned as lie spoke, and
looking towards the bridge, she belheld an appalling
spectacle.
The river, vwhose stream  washes on three sides the
base of the proud eminence on which the castle is situated, curves away firom the fortress and its corresponding village on the west, and thie hill sinks downward to
an extensive plain, so extremely level as to indicate its
alluvial origin.  Lower down, at the extremity of' this
plain, where the banks again close on the river, were
situated the manufacturing houses of' the stout Flemings, which were now  burning in a bright flame.  The
bridge, a higl, narrow combination of arclies of unequal
size, was about half a mile distant from the castle, in the
very centre of the plain.  The river itself ran in a deep
rocky channel, was often unfordable, and at all timnes
difficult of passage, giving considerable advantage to thle
defenders of the castle. who  had spent on other occasions many a dear drop of blood to defend the pass,
which Raymond Berenger's fantastic scruplles now  induced him  to abandon.   The Welchllen, seiz'ig thle
opportunity with the avidity with whichll  en grasp an
unexpected benefit, were fast crowding ov'er the hligh
and steep arches, while new bands, collecting fromn different points upon the farther bank, increase d tile continued stream  of warriors, who, passing leisurely and
urllinterrupted, formed their line of battle on the -i,air
opposite to the castle.




48           TALES OF TILE  CRUSADERS.
At first Father Aldrovand viewed tlheir 1110otion  withtut anxiety, nay, witlh thle scornful simile of one Nwho  observes an enelny in the act of falling into the snare
spread for thleml by sutperior skill.  RIaymonld Berenger,
with his little body of infantry and cavalry, were drawn
up on thle easy lill which is betwvixt thle castle and the
plain, ascending from tlle former towards the fbrtress;
and it seemed clear to thle Dominican, who lhad not entirely forgotten in the cloister his ancient military experience, that it was the Kniglht's 1purpose to attack the
dis,)rdered enemy when a certain number had crossed
the river, and the othllers were p)artly on tile farther side,
and I)artly engaged  in the slow and perilous manceuvre
of effecting tilei. passage.  But whlen large bodies of tile
xvhite-Manlltled Wetlchlen were l)ermitted witllout interruiption to take stcelh order on the plain as their habits of
fighlting reconllnendled, tile monk's countenance, though
hle still endeavoured to speak encouragement to thle terrified Eveline, assuned a different and an anxious expression; antId is acqulired lhabits of resignation conte'nded  strenuously N ith  lis ancient military  ardour.
"Be p)atient," lie saitl, " lrtn dalgllter, and be of good
oll lfort  thine eyes sllall belold the dismnay of yonder
barbaronls eneimy.   Let but a minute elalise, and( thou
shalt see tllemn scattered like dust. —Saint George! they
will surely cry tljy name novw, or never!"
Tlhe Inonk's beads p)assed meanwhile rapidly through
I's lIancIs, but many an expression of military inlpatience mningrled itself with his orisons.   He could not
conceive tile cause why each successive thron, of mountaineers, led under thleir different banners, and headed
by thleir respective chieftains, was plel'rlitted, withlout interIrultioii, to pass the difficult defile, and extend themselves in battle array on the near side of tile bridge,
Vlwhile tlle E:nlgish, or rather Anglo-Norman cavalry, remn:ined stationary, withoiut so nmuch as aRying their lances
in rest.  There remained, he tlhought, but one hlopeone only rational explanation of this unaccountable inactivity —this voluntary  surrender of every advantage of




THE  BETROTHED.                      49
grounr,  iwhen that of numbers was so tremendously on
tile side of the enemy.   Father Aldrovand co0ncluded,
that the succours of the Constable of Clester, and otlier
Ioird Marchers, must be in the imrmiediate vicinity, and
that the Welc(h  -were only  permitted  to plass the river
withlout opposition, that tlheir retreat miglbt be the more
effectually cut off, and their defeat, with a deep river in
their rear, rendered the more signally calamitous.  But
even vlile lie clung to this hope, the monk's lheart sunk
within hlim, as, looking in every direction fircin whlich the
expected succours mi art arrive, lie could neither see nor
}hear the. sliglhtest token wh-licll anounced their  llproacli.
in a fialnte of mind approaching more nearly to despair
than to hope, the old man  continued  alternately to tell
his beas. to gaze anxiously  around, and  to address
some words of consolation in broken  phral1ses to thie
young lady, until the general shlout of the Welch, ringing firom the bank of the river to tile battlements of the
castle, warned  him, in a note of exultation, thiat the
very last of the British hlad defiled  throughl the pass,
and that their wvhole'formidable array stood promipt for
action uplon the hitlher side of tlhe river.
This thrilling   andc astounding clamour, to w-llicl eac
Welchlnan  lunt his voice witll all tile enlrgy of defiance, thlirst of battle, andi  ol)e of conquest, \was at lengtl
answered by  thle  blast of the Normnan tlrumlets,-lele
first sign of' activity whlich  blad been  exhiibited on tlhe
part of Rayiontld   erenger.  But chleerily as tiley rung,
the -tirumpets, in comparison of the slhout wvihicil they
answered, sounded like the silver lwhistle of the stout
boatsvwain amid the howling of tlle teml pest.
At the same moment when the tiumpets were blown
Berenger gave signal to the archers to disclharge their
arronws, and the men-at-arms to advance  under a lltilstorm of shafts, javelins, and stones, shot, darted, and
slung by the Welcll against thleir steel-clad assailants.
The veterans of Raymond. on the other bland, stimulated by many victorious recollections, confident in the
VOL. 1.




50          tALES OF THE  CRUSADIERS.
talents of their accomplished  leader, and  undismayed
even by the desperation of their circumstances, clarged
tile mass of tile Welchmen with their usual determined
valour.  It was a gallant sight to see this little body ol
cavalry advance to tile onset, tlleir plumes floating above
the;r helmets, their lances in rest, and prOjecting six feet
in lengtll before the breasts of their coursers; their
shieldsl hanging from  their necks, that their left hands
nighllt 1lave fireedom to guide their horses; and  tlhe
whole bodly rushing   on with an equal fiont, and a mIomnentum of sp)eed, whlichl increased with every  second.
Sucll an onset inighlt have startled naked men, (for such
were the Welch, in respect of the nmail-sheatllhed Norrnans,) but it brought no terrors to the ancient Britisll,
who lhad long made it their boast that they exlosed their
bare bosoms and white tunics to thle lainces anid swords
of the men-at-armls, with as -much confidence as if they
had been born invulnerable.  It was not indeed in their
power to withstand the weight of tile first sllock, x-which,
breaking their ranks, densely as tlhey were arranged, carried the barbed horses into the very centre of tlleir hlost,
and well nigl LIp to the fatal standard, to whicli Raymnond Berenger, bound by his fatal vow, had tllat (lay
conceded so much vantage-ground.  But they yielde(l
like the billows, which give  vay, indeed, to the gallant
sllip, but only to assail hler sides, and to unite in lier
wake.   With wild and lorrible clamours, they closed
their tumtlltuors   rans aarounld Berenger and Illis devoted
followers, and a cleadly scene of strife ensue(d.
The best warriors of Wales had on tbhis occasion joinAd tlie standllard of Gwenwyn; the arrows of' tlle iuen
of Gwentland, wlhose skill in archery almost equalled
that of the Normans themselves, rattled on tle helmnets
of tile lien-at-arms; and the sp)ears of the people ot
[)elleubartl, renowned for tile slhalrpness 1an1 templ)er ot
tlleir steel lieads, wvere empl!oyed against tile cuiirasses
not vitlholut fatal effect, notwitsltanding  the l)tiotcctio,
td-ich these afforded to tlhe rider.




T'rIE  BETROTHED.*                  &
It was in vain that the archery belonging to Raynlond's
little band, stout yeomen, who, for tile most part, held
possessions by military tenure, exhausted  their quivers
on tle broad mark afforded thlem  by the Welchl army.
It is pnobable, that every shaft carried a Welchman's life
an its point; yet, to have afforded important relief to
tlhe cavalry, now closely and inextricably engaged, the
slau.gllter ought to lhave been twenty-fbld at least. Meantime, the Welch, galled by thlis incessant discharge, answered it by vollies firom their own arc hers, whose numbers mnade some amends for their inferiority, and w\-ho
were supLjorted by nulmerous bodies of' darters and slingers.  So tlhat tile Norman  archers, wlo had more tlhan
once attempted to descend firom tlleir position to operate
a diversionl in favour of Raymaond and his devoted band,
were nowv so closely engaged in fiont, as obliged them
to abandon all thoulghts of sucl  a movement.
Meanwhile, thlat chivallous leader, lwho firom the first
had hoped for no more tllan an hlonourable death, laboured with all his power to render his fate signal by involving in it thlat of tile Welch Prince, tile author of thle
war.   He calltiously  avoided the expenditure of his
strengthl by hewving amiong the British; but, with thle
shock of his mnanaged horse, repelled tile numbers whllo
pr'essed on hitn, and leaving the plebeians to the swords
of hlis conllpanions, shlloted his iwar-cry, and made Iis
way  towards the fatal standard of Gwenwvyn, beside
llicll, discharging at once the duties of a skilfll leader
and a brave soldier, the Prince hlad stationed himself.
Raymond's exl)erience of the Welch disposition, subject
eq(ually to the highest flood, and most sudden ebb of
passioil, gave him  some hope that a successful attack
upol thlis }poinlt, follow'ed by the death or capture of the
l'Pitnce, an(id lthe downfall  of his standard, mniglt even yet
strike sucll a ipanic, as should clhange the fortunes of tlhe
rnay, otlierw%%ise so nearly dleshierate.  The veteran, therefore, anlimiated lhis collra des to the charge by voice and
examnlle; and, in sl)ite of all opposition, forced his way
vradlually onwarid.  Bult Gwelnw-Si   in person, surrollnd



52          TATES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
edt by his best and noblest champions, offered a defence
as obstinate as thle assault was intrepid.  In vain they
were borne to the earth by thle barbed horses, or liewed
down by thle invulnerable riders.  Wounded and overthrown, tile Britons continued their resistance, clung
round thle legs of the Norman steeds, and cumnbered
their advance; vwhile their bretlhren, thrusting with pikes,
proved every joint and crevice of the plate and mail, or
grappling with the men-at-arms, strove to pull themn from
their horses by main force, or beat them down with their
bills and Welch hooks.  And woe betide those wvlo were
by these various means dismounted, for the long sharp
knives worn by the Welch soon pierced them with a
h1undred wounds, and were then only merciful when the
first inflicted was deadly.
The combat was at this point, and had raged for more
than half an hour, when Berenger, hlaving forced llis
horse within two spears' length of tile British standard,
lie and Gwenwyn were so near to each other as to exchange tokens of mutual defiance.
"'Turn thee, Wolf of Wales," said Berenger, " and
abide, if thou darest, one blow of a good knight's swrord'!
Rayinond Berenger spits at thee and thy banner."
" False Norman churl!" said GOwenwyn, swinging
around his head a Inace of prodigious weight, and alreadly clottered with blood, "- thy iron head-piece shall
ill protect thy lying tongue, with which I will this day
feed the ravens."
Raymond made no farther answer, but pushed hIis
horse towards the Prince, who advanced to mneet.llin
with equlal readiness.  But ere tliey came withlin reach
of each other's weapons, a Welchl champion, dlevoted
like the Romans who opposed the elephllants of Pyrrllls,
findtling thlat tile armour of Raviymond's horse resisted the
repeated thrusts of his spear, thirew  hlilself under the
animal, and stabbed him in the bell) witlh Ilis lon- klife.
Tile noble horse reared and fell, crushincg witli hlls weilght
the Briton who had wounded him; the helmet of the
rider burst its clasps in the fall, and rolled away froml




THE  lIETROTHED. 5D]
ms head, giving to view his noble features and gray hairs.
He made more than one effort to extricate blilnself from
the fallen horse, but ere lie could succeed, received his
death's-wound firom the 1land of Gwenwyn, who hesitat.
e(d not to strike him down with his mace while in tile act
ol attempting to rise.
During tile whole of this bloody day, Dennis Morolt's
horse had kept pace for pace, and hlis arm blow for blow,
with his master's.  It seemed as if two different bodies
had been moving under one act of volition.  He husbanded his strength, or put it forth, exactly as he observed his knight did, and was close by his side vwhen lihe
made the last deadly effort.  At that fatal moment, when
Raymond Berenger ruslled on tle chief, the brave squire
forced his way Lp to the standard, and, grasping it firmly,
struggled for possession of it with a gigantic Briton, to
whose care it had been confided, and who now exerted
his utmost strength to defend it.  But even while engaged in this mortal struggle, the eye of Moroit scarcely
left his master; and when he saw him fall, his own force
seemed by sympathy to abandon him, and the British
champion had no longer any trouble in laying him prostrate among the slain.
The victory of the British was now complete.'Upon
the fall of their leader, the follovers of Raymond Berenger would willingly have fled or surrendered.   But
the first was impossible, so closely had they been enveloped; and in the cruel wars maintained by the Welch
upon their frontiers, quarter to the vanquished was out
of tile question.  A few of the men-at-arms were Ilicky
enough to disentangle thlemselves from tile tulnult, and
aot even attempting to enter the castle, fled in various
directions, to carry their own fe:rs amiong the inhabitants of tle marches, by annouinciug thie loss of the battle,
and the fate of the  Iar-renowlned Raymiond Perenger.
Tlhe archlers of thle fallen leader, as they lad never
been so deeply involved in the combat, wlhichl had' been
chiefly 19 intained by the cavalry, became now, in th.iir
yOI, 1,




54          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
turn, lhe sole object of the enemy's attack.  But when
tlhey saw the multitude come roaring towards them like
a sea, with all its waves, they abandoned the bank which
they had hitherto bravely defended, and began a regular
ietreat to the castle, in the best ordei which they could,
as the only remaining means of securing their lives. A
few of their light-footed enemies attempted to intercept
them, during the execution of this prudent manceuvre,
by outstripping them in their march, and throwing themselves into the hollow way which led to the castle, to oppose their retreat.  But the coolness of the English
archlers, accustomed to extremities of every kind, supported them on the present occasion.  While a part of
them, armed with glaives and bills, dislodged the Welch
fiorn the hollow way, the others, facing in the opposite
direction, and parted into divisions, which alternately
halted and retreated, maintained such a countenance as
to check pursuit, and exchange a severe discharge of
missiles with the Welch, by which both parties were
considerable sufferers.
At lengtth, having left more than two-thirds of their
b. ave companions behind, the yeomanry attained the point,
wllich, being commanded by arrows and engines from
the battlements, mil ht be considered as that of comparative safety.  A volley of large stones, and square-headed bolts of great size and thickness, effectually stopped
the farther progress of the pursuit, and those who had
led it drew  back their desultory forces to the plain,
whlere, with shouts of jubilee and exultation, their countryinen were employed in securing the plunder of the
field; while some, impelled by hatred  and revenge,
mangled and mutilated the limbs of the dead Normans,
in a manner unwxorthy of their national cause and their
owin coiirage. Tihe fearful yells with which this dreadful
work was consumlnmated, while it struck horror into the
minds of the slender garrison of the Garde Doloureuse,
inspired them at the same tine with the resolution rather
to defend the fortress to the last extremity, than to sub.
mit to the mnercy cf so vengeful an eerney.8




THE BETROTHED                      5)
CHAPTER V.
That Baron he to his castle fled,
To Barnard Castle then fled he;
The uttermost walls were eathe to win,
The Earls have won them speedilie;The uttermost walls were stone and brick;
But though they won them soon anon,
Long ere they won the inmost walls,
For they were hewn in rock of stone.
PERCY'S Reliques of Ancient P try.
TEEri unhappy fate of the battle was soon evident to
the anxious spectators upon the watch-towers of the
Garde Doloureuse, which name the castle that day too
well deserved.   With difficulty the confessor mastered
his own emotions to control those of the females on
whom he attended, and who were now joined in their
lamentation by many others —women, children, and infirm old men, the relatives of those whom they saw engaged in this unavailing contest. These helpless beings
had been admitted to the castle for security's sake, and
they had now thronged to the battlements, from which
Father Aldrovand found difficulty in making them descend, aware that the sight of them on the towers, thai
should have appeared lined with armed men, would be
an additional encouragement to the exertions of the assailants.  He urged the Lady Eveline to set an example
to this group of helpless, yet untractable mourners.
Preserving, at least endeavouring to preserve, even in
the extremity of grief, that composure which the nmanners of the times enjoined —for chivalry had its stoicism
as well as philosophy —Eveline replied with a voice
which she would fain have tendered firm, and which
was tremulous in her despite —" Yes, father, you say
well —here is no longer aught left for maidens to look
upon.   Warlike meed and honoured deed sunk when
714




TALES OF THE CRVSADERS.
yonder white plume touched the bloody ground. —Cmrne,
maidens, thlere is no longer auglit left us to see —t3
mnass, to mncss —the tourney is over."
There was wildness in her tone, and when she rose,
with the air of one who would lead out a procession,
she staggered, and would have fallen but for the support
of the confessr.   Hastily wrapping her head in her
mantle, as if ashamed of the agony of grief which she
could not restrain, and of which her sobs and. the low
moaning sounds that issued from under the folds enveloping her face, declared the excess, she suffered Father
Aldrovand to conduct her whither lhe would.
"C Our gold," he said, " has changed to brass, our
silver to dross, our wisdom to folly —— it is His will, whG
confounds the councils of the wvise, and shortens the
arm of the mighty.   To the chapel —to thle chapel,
Lady Eveline, and instead of vain repining, let us pi-ay
tu God and thle saints to turn away their displeasure, and
to save the feeble remnant from the jaws of the devouring wolf."
Thus speaking, he half led, half supported Eveline,
who was at the moment almost incapable of thought and
action, to the castle-chapel, where, sinking before the
altar, she assumed the attitude at least of devotion.
though her thoulghts, despite the pious words which her
tongue faltered out mechanically, were upon the field of
battle, beside the body of her slaughtered parent.: The
rest of the mourners imitated  their young lady in her
devotional posture, and in the absence of her thoughts.
The consciousness that so many of the garrison had been
cut off in Raymond's incautious sally, added to their
sorrows the sense of personal insecurity, which was
exaggerated by the cruelties which were too often exercised by the enemy, who, in the heat of victory', were
accustomled to spare neither sex nor age.
The monk, however, assumed among them the tone of
adthority which his character warranted, rebukfed  their
w'ailing and Ineffectual comprlaints,  and having, as he
tilhught, brought them to such a state of inind as h)ettei




TIRE  BETROTHED.                   5
became their condition, he left them to their private devotions, to indulge his own anxious curiosity by iiquiring
into the defences of' the castle. Upon tile outward walls
he found XVilkin Flammock, who, having done the office
of a good and skilhll capltain in the mode of managing
his artillery, and beaten back, as we have already seen,
the advanced guard of the enemy, was now with his own
hantl measuring out to his little garrison no stinted allowance of wine.
" Have a care, good Wilkin," said the father,'" thlt
thou (lost not exceed in this matter.  Wine is, thou
knowest,. like fire and water, an excellent servant, but a
very bad master."
" It will be long ere it overflow  the deep and solid
skulls of my  countLrymien,"  said  Wilkin Flarnmock.
*' Our Flemish courage is like our Flanders horses —the
one needs the spur, and tile other must have a taste of
tile wine-pot; but, cred(it me, father, they are of an
en(tllring generationi-, and will not shrink in the washling.
-lBult indeed, if I were to give the knaves a cup more
tllau enoulgl, it iwere not altogether amiss, since they are
like to hlave a platter thle less."
"How do )you mean?" cried the monk, starting; "I
trust in the saints tile provisions hlave been cared for?"
"Not so well as in )your convent, good fatiler," replied
Wilkin, witli tile same imlmovable  stolidity of countenance.  " CWe had kept, as you know, too jolly a Christmas to lhave a very fat Easter.  Yon Welch hounds,
who helped to eat utip our victuals, are now  like to get
into oulr h1old for the lack of them."
" Thou taikest mere folly," answered the monk;
" orders were last evening given by our lord, (whose
soul God assoilzie!) to fetch in tie necessary supplies
from the country around."' Ay, but the lWelch were too sharp set to permit us
to do that at our ease this morning, which should hlave
been done weeks and months since.  Our lord deceased,
if deceased he be, was one of thlose who trusted to the
ed;ge of the sword, and even so hath conle of it.  Corn



58          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
mend me to a cross-bow and a well-victualled castle, if I
must needs figllt at all —You look pale, my good father,
a cup of wine will revive you."
The monk motioned away from him the untasted cup,
which Wilkin pressed him  to wvith  clownish  civility.
" We have now, indeed," he said, " no refuLge, save in
prayer."
" Most true, good father," again replied the impassible
Fleming; " pray therefore as much as you will.  I wvill
content myself with fasting, which will come whether I
will or no." —At this moment a horn was heard before
the gate. —" Look to the portcullis and the gate, ye
knaves! —What news, Neil Hansen?"
"A messenger from  the Welch tarries at the Millhill, just witlhin shot of the cross-bows; lie has a white
flag, and demands admittance."
" Admit him not, upon thy life, till we be prepared for
hitn,  said Wilkin.  " Bend the bonnie mangonel upon
the place, and shoot him if he dare to stir from thle spot
wxhere he stands till we get all prepared to receive hlim,"
said Flammock, in his native language.  " And, Neil,
thou houndsfoot, bestir thyself —let every pike, lance,
and pole in the castle be ranged along the battlements,
and pointed through the shot-lioles —cut up some tapestry into the shape of banners, and show them from the.
high-lest towers. —Be ready, w-hen I give a signal, to
strike naker, * and blow trumpets, if we have any;.f
not, some cow-horns —any thing for a noise. And, hark
ye, Neil Hansen, do you, and four or five of your fellows, go to the armoury and slip on coats-of-mail; our
Netherlandish corslets do not appal them  so much,
Then let the Welch thief be blindfolded and brougllt in
amnongst us —Do you hold up your ]heads anid keep silekqce —leave me to deal with himn —only have a care
tiere be no English among us."
The monkq. whlo in his travels had acquired some slighl
knowledge of the Flemish language, had well nigl startN Vaker-Drum.




THE B ETROTHED.                 59
ed when he heard tile last article in Wilkin's instructions
to his c.om,,utryman, but comanaded himlself, altlhough a
little surprised, both at this suspicious circumstance, and
at the readiness and dexterity witlh which the rough-lhewn
Fleming seemed to adapt his preparations to the rules
of war and of' sound policy.
Wilkin, on his part, was not very certain whether the
monk had not heard and understood more of what he
said to his countrynan than what he had intended.  As
if to lull asleep any suspicion which Father Aldrovand
might entertain, he repeated to him in Eniglish most of
the: directions which lie had given, adding, " Well, good
father, what; lhink you of it?"
" Excellent well," answered the father, " and done
as you had practised war from the cradle, instead of
weaving broadcloth."
"Nay, spare not your jibes, father," answered Wilkin.
— " I know full well that you English think that Flemings
hIave nought in their brain-pan but sodden beef and cabbage; yet you see there goes wisdom to weaving of webs."
"; Right, Master Wilkin Flammock," answered the
father;:' but, good Fleming, wilt thou tell me what answer thou wilt make to thle Welch Prince's summons?"
" Reverend father, first tell me what the summons
will be," replied the Fleming.
" To surrender this castle upon the instant," answered the monk.  " What will be your reply?"
"My answer will be —Nay, unless upon good composition."
"How, Sir Flemiln! dare you mention composi.
tion and the castle of the Garde Doloureuse, in one sentence?" exclaimed the monk.
"Not if I may do better," answered the Fleming.
" But would your reverence have me dailly until the
question amongst the garrison be, whether a plump
priest or a fat Fleming will be the better flesh to furnish
their shambles?"
"Pshaw,"2 replied Father Aldrovand, " thou canIst
not mean such folly, Relief must- arrive witlhin twenty



60          TALES OF TIIE CRUSADERS.
obur hours at fartlest..  Raymond Berenger expected it
for certain witllin such a space."
"Raymond Berenger hath been deceived this morning in more matters than one," answered the Fleming.
" Hark thee, Flanderkin," answered the monk, whose
retreat from the world had not altogether quenched hIis
military habits and propensities, " I counsel thee to deal
uprightly in this matter, as thou Most regard thine own
lif6'; for here are as many English left alive, notwithstanding the slaughter of the day, as may well suffice to
fling the Flemish bull-frogs into the castle-ditch, should
they have cause to think thou meanest falsely, in the
keeping of this castle, and the defence of the Lady
Eveline."
"Let not your reverence be moved with unnecessary
and idle fears,"  replied Wilkin Flarnlnock —" I aln
eastellane in this house, by command of its lord, and whllat
I hold for the advantage of mine service, that will I do."
" But I," said the angry monk, " I am the servant of
the Pope —the chaplain of this castle, with power to
bind and to unloose.  I fear me thlou art no true Clhristian, VWilkin Flammock, but dost lean to the heresy of
the mountaineers. Thou hast refused to take the blessed
cross -thou hast breakfasted and drunkl both ale and
wine, ere -thou hast hleard mass.  Tho u art not to be
trusted, man, anrd I will not trust thee —I demand to be
present at the conference betwixt thee and the Welchillan."
" It may not be, good father," said Wilkin, with thle
same smiling, heavy countenance, which he maintained
on all occasions of life, however urgent.  " It is true, as
thou sayest, good father, that I have mine own reasons
for not marching quite so far as the gates of Jericho at
present; and lucky I hlave such reasons, since 1 liad not
else been here to delend tile gate of' tle Garde Doloureuse.  It is also true that I niay have been sonmetimes.)bliged to visit my mills earlier than the chlaplain was called
by his zeal to the altar, and that my stomach brooks not
workin ere I break my fast.  But tor this,:father. I have




T'iE L  ETRO'THID).                  6 1
pa:dt  a mu:lct even  to  NOtlr' worshliipfill revei elce, and
unethliiks sit(I:e \oiI aIIe IldeaIscl to reiiilit   ller   le coniifessinll so exu(cttly, you sllotilt  not lorget the penalice
alld tle 11absolt.tiol."
T1e  lil(ollk, ii all llilili    to) tlle  Secrets of the  confessional, hIat  goiie a step,  eyo~,iidl xvlait the rules of his
ortder antd of the c      ctlcil  [per llittcd.   Ie wi as baflled by
thle Fllling'S e'p1l,, i lidill tilhg  lilln lloved  by  thle
cltarige of her'es,, lie coulld ollly alsvller, ill SOnle  c(onfilsionl, "1 Youie 1i'se,  tJelt, to adiinit nie to your cocnference
wit h thle $Welch lla|C n?"
" Reverend  fatlier,"  said  WVilkin, " it altogether respecteth sectular lmatters.   If atighlt of religiouls tenor
slloul(t iitervelle, yol. shlall be sirnlliloned wvitllout delay."
1 will be thlere inl spite of tItee, thou  F'iemisi  ox,"
muttered  tile   on011k to hliniself;  1tt iln a tone not to  be
hearld by the bystal(lers; andt so speaking, lie left the
battle me uts.
Wilkin  Flammock, a few  miniutes  afterwards, having
first seen that all was,arranged ol thle tbattlemeent, so as
to  give  an  inpl)osing idea o' a str eilgthl  whichl  did not
exist, (lescermiled to  a small guardl-room,        betwixt the
outer and illner  ate, wlt ere lie \wa(s aittended  by half-adozenl  of }his own1 peo0jle, tlisgtlised  in  thle  Norman
armnour  v]whic(l  the   lihad  ibundtl in te  armlourll.  of the
castle, —-their strolg,  tall, anid butlky fornls, and:motion
less p este'es, cattsilig thleml to look rathler like trolphies ot
some past ate, tlalla  livinlg  anld existing- soldiers.   Surrotunded by thlese hite and ilanimnate figures, in a little
vaulted  rool  whlicil almost excludedt  daly-light, Flammock received  the Welchl envoy, vllho  was led in blndfoidetl betwixt two Fleminis, yet not so carefuhlly wvatched but that they perinittc(l  huim  to have a glimpse of the
prel)arations on tile battlemnents, kwhich had, in fact, lbeen
made clliefly for tile p!iur}:)ose of impiosing   on hin.   F'or
the  samie  p)urlpose an  occasional clatter  of arms  was
made witllout;  voices  were  heard, as if officers were
goinig their roun(ls; and other sounds of active prepara4 voL. i.




62          TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS.
tion seemed to announce that a numerous and regulai
garrison was preparing to receive an attack.
When tile bandage was removed friom Jorworth s eyes
-for the same individiual who had formerly brouglit
Gwenwyn's offer of alliance, now  bare his sumnmons of
surren(lelr,-he looked hatughltily around hliil, and demanded to whom lhe was to dteliver the commlands of hIis
mnaster, the Gwenwyn, son of Cyvelioc, Prince of Powys.
1 lHis highness," answered Flanemnock, witlh his usual
smiling indifference of manner, " must be contented to
treat with Wilkin Flarmimock ofthe Fulling-mlills, deputed governor of tile Garde Doloureuse."
" Thou  deputed governor!" exclaimed Jorworth;'" thou!-a low-country  weaver! —it is impossible.
Low as they are, the English Crogan9cannot have sunk
to a point so low, as to be commianded by thee! —These
men seem English, to them I will deliver my message."
" You may if you will," replied XWilkin, " buit if they
return you any answer save by signs, you slihall call me
schelin."
"Is this true?"  said the Welch envoy, looking
towards the men-at-arms, as they seemed, by whom
Flarnrnock was attended; " (are you really come to this
pass?  I thought that the mere liaving been born on
British earth, thloulgh the children of spoilers and invaders, had inspired you with too mluch pride to brook
tie yoke of a base mechanic.  Or, if youl are not comu-ageous, shotl(l you not be calItious? —Well speaks thle
proverb, Woe to hlim  that will trust a stranger! —Still.nute-still silent? —answer me by word or sign-Do
you really call and acknowledge ilirm as your lcader?"
The men in arrnour with one accord nodded their
casques in reply to Jorworth's question, and then remain
ed motionless as before.
The Welchman, with the acute genius of his country
suspected there was something in this which be could
not entirely comprehend, but, preparing himself to be
upon his guard, he proceeded as follows  " Be it as ii
may, I care not who hears the message of my sovereign,




TCHE IBETROTnED.                      63
since it brings [iardlon and mercy to tlie inlhabitalnts of
tills Castell a'n (Carig,,   wi ich you Ilave called tlll G(ar(de
Dolotir'else,   to covei the usUlrl)at.ioll of tile tellitO1' by
tlhe cllalae o1 thie nalile.  Uplon slltrrel(iel of tile stIn11C'
t:, tc I'Prince of' P)ow \ys, withi its delpenled('nies, aed( with
tlfe arliis 1  vlc(lic it ollntaillS, and witl tIle mlailden Eveline
Berenger, ail \liti1l  tlte (astle shall (tldearlt unnc-leste(l,
anld hiaxe saife-conl(llu(t wvlheresoever they' xxill, to go be
yo.dcl ille Illtalclhes of tle C.lr'my."
" And how, if we obey not this summons?" said the
impertuilr)ablhe Wilkin 1Flallnlock.
T" T'henl shall youlr portion lbe witil Raymond Berenger,
your late leader,"    relied Jolrwortil, his eyes, while he
was speakliig, glanciig witll the vindictive ferocity whlich
dictated  hlls alilswer.' So miany stranugers as be here
amongst ye, so mllany bodies to  the ravens, so many
hIeads to the gibbet! —It is long siice the klites have hlad
such a l)anqiiet of lurdane Flenmings alId false Saxons."
" Friend Jorwortlh," said Wilkin,   if' such be thy only mlessage, bear mine answer back to t.iy master, That
wise nien trust not to thle words of others that safety5
wh}ichl thley can secure by tleir own deeds.  We hlave
walls high and strong enoutgh, deep moats, and plenty oi
munition, botlh long-lowv and arblast.'We will keep the
castle, trustiug thle castle will keep us, till God sihall send
us Succoullr."
" Do not peril your lives on such an issue," said the
Welch emissarvy, clianging his language to tile Flernish,
which, firom occasional communication with those of that
nation in Peinbrokeshiire, lie spoke fluently, and which
lie now adopted, as if to conceal the purport of his discotirse fiomn the  supposed English  in  the apartment.
" — Hark thee hither,"  he ploceedtle, " good  Flemrling;
knowest thou not tlhat lie in whom is your trust, the Constablle De Lacy, hathl bound himself by his vow to engage in no quarrel till lie crosses the sea, and cannot
come to your aid without perjury?   He and the other
Castle of thle Craig.




64            TALES  OF THE  CRUSADERS.
I.,ords Marc-lhers 11have (drawl their forces far n;,;lliward
to joill thle liost of' Ciu'saders.   Xllat. \ill it avail )y,-, to
put its to tli, toil ancld trouble of' a Io[nli  siege, \vlnrl:o't
ca(n ltoe ino Irestie e?"' And what will it. a.vail mle nore,'' said  Wilkinl, alnswveri11g inl IIis native lallgulage, and lookillg at tlhe Wit elclliman fixedly, yet wnitli a. coi)ilte:ance fi tim wvhich all ex-.
pression seeliedl studiotlsly banished, and whiich exhibited, tipon  features  otherwise  tolerable, a  rernarkal)le
colnp)ound of dulness and simlnlicity, "h \awit kwill it avail
me whllether your trloulle be great or smllali?"' Come, liielred Flainmock,"  said  thle Welclhman,'' firame not thyself imO'e ulltal)l)l'ellensive  tlian  lnaltiure
hath  form-ed  thee.  Th'lle glenl is dark, bitt a sitiilleam
can lilght the side of it.  Thly utmost el'orts cannlot prevenit thie fall of' this castle; but tlhou tnayst hasten it, aiid
tlhe doing so sliall avail thee muchl."   Th'ltus speaking, lie
diew close up to Wilkin, and sunk hlis voice to an insinuating whisper, as he saidl, " Never didl the witlldrawing
of a bar, or tile raising of' a portcullis, bring suchl vanitage
to Flernin  as they may to thee, if tllotu wilt."
" I only knllo," said WVilkill,' that the drawintg    the
one, and the dropping the other, have cost me my whlole
worldly substance.":' Fleming, it shall be compensated to thee with  an
overflowing measure.   The  liberality of Gwenxwyn is
as the summer rain."
"'My whole mnills and buildings have been thlis morning burnt to the earth-      "
" Thou shalt have a thousanlp marks of silver, man,
in the place of thy goods,"  saidl thle Well hilan; bult
the Flemining continued, without seemilng  to hlear hii, to
number tIp his losses.
M';  ylly lands are forayed, twenty kine driven off, and-'`
"'Ireescore shall replace them,"  imiterrupt (I Jor-.
wortl,'5 chosen ttI'on the  miost br'irlitt-skiriinlcd  ff tl;e
spoil.'
But mnv datighter-but the lady Eveline" —said the
F'leming,  ithl  soine  slight chlange In his monoton:ri




TIIE  BETROTIIED.                        65
voice, whlich seeinedl to express doubt:nd  perplexityo" In(u are ci.ruel  conquerors, alnd —-"
"'l'o  those who resist us we are fe-irful,'?  said Jorworth, " but not to sulch  as shall deserve clemency by
surrentler.    Gwenw yn  will forget tie contrnelies  of
Rlaymond, and raise his daughter to higb  honouri aiong
thle d(auglters of tile Cyrlryy.   For thine own child, formn
ultt a wislh for ther ad-lvantage, and it sllall be fulfilled to
he utternlost. Now,  Fleming, we lunderstand each other."''  I tunderstand tllee, at. least," said Flaminlock.
"Anld I thee, I t'rlst?'" said orwrth, hemldliilg his k leen,
wild hlue eye on tle stolid and uinexplressive face of thle
Netlerlander, like an eager student who seeks to (-iscoer
somie  hidden and  mysterious meaning in a p1assage of a
classic author, the direct itmport of whicll seenms trite and
trivial.
"You believe thiat you utndersland me," said Wilkin,
" but here lies the difihculty, —wllich  of us shall trust
the other?"' Darest thoul  ask?" answered(  Jorworlh.   " Is it for
thee, or stlu.c  as thee, to exIpress dotubt of thle purposes
of the Prillce ol' Iowvs -"' I know  tilem  nlot, good Jorwtorthl, blit tlhrough thee;
and well I wo-t tJflio   art (l lt oiie who will let thv traffic
miscarry flr want otf aid foinil tile breatl of' tll  moulthh.'
" As I anl a (Cli.ristiian Illnan," said Jorwolh, lhiltiriving
asseveration on asseveration —-        by the sollt]' ofmy f ther
— by the'faitl (of IIv nliotlll-er-hy tle  Ilal(k rool  of —'
" Stop, good.Jorworilh -— thiomt leial est tlhine oatls too
thickly on each otlher, fI)r ine Io vaitlue tieni to tile right
estimate."   said  1'lanlliockl; "tltat \vl1icnl  is so liglhtly
pledged. is sometjiles  1o-t thouliht           h. lr   retleelling.
Solme lpart of thle p )roni{se{l gruelrtlo  in handll  tie whilst,
ivere'worth a an  u11111led o Itilis."
l'll()H t sislic)i( ols c1ltiri, (lareslt tltol dl()olt tny' word 
-' No —-by no llleallns,"  als\\'rtl \Wilikil;         e n'ert.leess I will bIelieve tld ed tl lilore rea;llily."
lTo  tile point, F!'lelitn,r  said  Jorworth —        " what
v~oultdst tilou llave of' til n"




56           lTALES  OF TIlE  CRIUSAI)ElS.
"lJet me hlave some present siglht of tile lilono,, thou
didst promnise, andi I will think of tile rest of thly  proposal."
Bl ase silver-brAoke!)" answered  Jorworlil,    "  iiinkest tlloll tile P'rince of  P()Nxvs hIns as mIan  n ioiiev-h)agS.
as thle  lleiechllnts  of tly landll  of sale an(1l )barter?   He
gathers treasllres byv his   onqtlCests, as tile xvater-s})otut
suckls tip water by its stlelltlh; buit it is to disp)erse thieni
amongl his tOliowels, as tlhe cloudl  colunnll restores its
contents to earth and ocean.  T1he silver t lhat I promtnise
thlee has vet to be oatllered out of the Saxon chests —
nay, the casket of Berenger himself must be rainsacked
to make up the'tale.'"
MI:tlliliks I cou (l do that mrself, (havin-g fuill ipower in
the castle,) a(nd so save you a labotlir," said the F'lelning.
" Trutle,"  answered Jorworlt,'" but it Nvotld l)e at
the expense of a cord and a noose, wlhellther tlie Welch
took  thle place  or tile iNornianis  relieved -l -the  one
would expect thleir booty entire —the otler thelir countryman's treasures to ie d(eliveredl ue llilnilnished."
"I may not gainsay   that," said the oF1leminilg.  "   ell
say I were content to trust yo  tlhus tilr, wliy iiot retutrn
my cattle, which  are in you11r )x\ll hands, andi at your
disposal?  If' you lo not pleasure ne in soml etdli-g beforehand, what can I expect of you afterwards?"' I would  ple]asure vo(U  in a  greater  matler,"  answered the equally susiiciou.s   Aelchllnan.  " But llwhat
would it "vail thee to hlave thy cattle witliin the fortress?
T'ley call be better cared for on the plain beneatlh."
"In fiithll," replied thle Fleming, " tlhou savest trutll
-they will be but a trouble to us here,  where we heave
so nlany alreadv provided for the use of tile gariison.And  yet, whten 1 considler it mllore  closelv,  we  have
erlough of forage to maintain all we }have, and  more.
Now, my cattle are of a p:~eculiar stock, brolught fi't'on the
rich pastures of Fl;landers, and 1 desire to hlave tlherm
restored ere yourL axes  and  Welch  hooks be busy with
their' lides" 




THE BETROTHED.                             67' You shall have them  this night, hide and horn," said
Jorworth; " it is but a small earnest of a great boon."
" Tlllariksl to yotlr inulifii cene."  said  thle  Flemning;
I arm  a silnnple-iil(lded  111at, and  boulnd  lny wisies to
the recovery of ny ow          )l' property."'
"'l'llo   wilt h)e ready, theo, to  deliver the castle?"
said Jotrworth.
" Of that we xill talk farther to-lorrow," said Wilkin
Flammnock; " if these  Enlglish  and  Normans  should
sulspect such a purpose, we slould have wild wolrk-they
must be fully dispersed edre 1 can llold farther communication on  the  subject.   Aleanwliile, I prayr thee, depart
suddenly, and  as if offended  witll thle tenor of our dis"  Yet would I fain  know  something  more  fixed and
aosollute,  said Jorwortlh.'n Illll,:S~ilpos-i lll-nssihble,"  said tile Flelin-;' see
you not yoider tall fellow h      egiiis   already to liantdle his
dagger-Go hence in haste, and angril-antd foirget not
the cattle."
"1 I wiill not foret tleln,"  said  Jorwortht; " but ii
thou keep not t'faitll witl.h lls
So speaking, lhe le'ft tle alpartnmenlt with a gesture of
menac(e, partly really tdirected to W illrin ]ilnself;, partly
assumed in collseqll!c nce of  liis adlvic(e.  Fllallllnock replied in Englisli, as if tliat all ar0ounlld   nigii t understand
what he salit,
"  )o  thli  worst, Sir Wclclllan! I ali ai trtilee  man
I def' the proposals of rentditiol, and  wvill Ihold otit this
2astle to tlly shatne  ad 1ly nmaster's!-Here —-let htim
Ihe blindfolided once inore, alI(  reiiiriedl in satfety  to his
tttendanlts witt hollt; tile  next Wecx'eltchan  who apptears
nefore tile  rate of thei  Gardle dDoloureus s, shitall Noe nuore
slharpl\ rI (c  ive ld."
rh'l-e We'   lll-nant was hAiind'loldced and Nvitllidrawn, xwlhen,
1s XWiitmI I'ulamifiock lhimlself e1ll tIle gu!ardl-roomlil, onie o(
tlle senellii  i iitell-at-arnis \\'lo  I 1(l IC,ee   ipresent at this
iliterview, said ioI his ear irn 1Il:isml, "'' Tl'ou art a false
traitor,  Fla-ilmiock, a:."  stialt die a traitor's deathl!"




68           ITALES OF THE  CRUISADERS.
Startled at this, tile Fleming  would have  jquestloneo
the man farther, but lie had disappeared  so soon as the
wol-rds were utteredl.   F-limllock was disconcerled  by
thilis  irctmstallc,, llichll showed him  that hlls interview
ith.Jorwortll) o adl beell observed, and its pIur'l)se known
or (conject(ured, by solle one wvho was a stlranger to his
cotitidenlce,  and  nliglt thw-art his intentions; and  he
quick'ly atier learned that this wvas the case.
CI-JAPTER. VI.
Blessed Mary. mnotller dear,''o a inaid:a lead thine car;
Virgia, ld(tCefiled, to thee
A wretched virgin bends the knee.
iJ;tL to the Vrigin.
TIUE  daughter of tile slaughtered Raymond had descended fiom  thle elevated station whence she had beheld
the field of battle, in the agony ofl grief wattural to a child
whllose eyes have beheld  the death of an honoured and
beloved  father.   Butt her station, anl t.he princilles of
chivalry in whicll slle la(l been trainledL u, (lid not permit any prolonged or needless indulgence of inactive
sorrow.  in raising the youlng and beautiful of the female
sex  to the rank of p}riucesscs, or rather goddesses, the
spirit of' that sillgulllr system  exacted from tliem, in requital, a tone of character, aJnd a line of' conduct, supe
rior and  somethino contradictory  to that of natural or
merely  hluman feeling.   Its lieroimnes fireqluently resemnbled portraits shown- by an artificial light-strong  and
luminouIs,  and which( placed  in high relief tile objects on
which it was ttirned; but having  still something  ol
adventitious splencdouor,  -llich, compared with tl!at of the
natural day, see.nemd glaring aud exaggerated.
It was not pertitted to tile orphan of thle Garde Doloureuse, thie dtaugliter of a  iine of' heroes, wlhose stem
was to be found ini tile race of Tlhor, Balder, Odin, an(d
other deified  warriors of tile North, whose  beauty was
the theme of a hundred minstrels, land ler eyes the leadr~ stat o)  half the clliv;alry of the-t  w-arlike nrcn t hel'e s  )f




TIlE  BETROTHED.                        69
Wales, to mourn  ler sire n-ith hl-e iltefftctlal tears of a
village iltaiden.  Y ng as slie was, and ho(rrible as was
the incident whiich shlle had bit that illstant witnesserl, il
was  not. alctlogetler so  appalling t.o }her as to a  mnaiden
whose eve hladl not been at(customedl tol toie r1ough,  atll
otren fat;al sports of chivallry, aind whose resilience  hlad
not been amiong scenes and men whiere war aild death
had been the unceasing thetme of every  tongue, whose
imnagination  hlad  not been  familiarized Nwit ll'wil(  alld
t)loodf) events, or, finally, who  had  not been traitedl ill
to consider an honourable'L deatlh under shield,  as that
of a field  of battle wvas termed, as a. nore  desirable
termination to the life of a wairior, ti}an thiat lingering
an(i unihonoured  fate whlieh  comes slowly on, to  concl:ule th'e listless and helpless ilnactivity of pitolonged ol(1
age.   Eveliine, while she wept If o er fiathler, felt lher
bosom grlowv hilen  she  fecollected thit lie diied  in the
blaze of his famile, and amidst hieaps of his slaughtered
enemies; and wheml site thlought of tlhe exigencies of her
own situlltiOtl, it Nwas withl the determination  to defend
het owvin liberty, and to  avengre  her filtle's cieath, by
every   means  whicli Heaven had left vilthin her plower.'I. he aidlsf hr,'liiion were not  firgotten; aln( accordilig
to the clStol-,l   l, i. tle ines, and tlhe d(o(tlriles of the.1otnail (c111r(tl1, she emideavoitre(l to tIo'pitiate the'favotmr of
Heaverti by vows as wvell as }raners.   In~ a snall cryplt,
or0 o!r-alorv, ar joinit 1to t te cltapel,  was ]hng1m  over  an
altal-piiece, on~ whiliCl a  lnim) cotllstantly btilrned, a small
pictl ure of tile Vin,in TNITy, i rever ed is a hlousel(old i and.
peculiar (leity bly tlhe it( il  (i)tof' Brten,(.ti' one of whose
ancestors had brought it fiom  the Holy Lland, wlhither
he hat] gotie i}p(on pilrt image.     t vas of thie  lierio(l of
the Lowevr E;it)ire,  a G;ecilan paintillg, not mtnlilke those
twvlich  il Cat lllolic coitttlries ate often  imnputed  to the
Evalgelist,Luke.  Tlle ciylpt il \wl;icl it was piatied was
accouttedl  a silritle of tncoi  nonll(:l   salltit y- - ay   s pipsed
to have (dislaed m-lliraculous )owersm; antdl dvciae, by thle
daily garlandel of floers wvlhie  she offered belt'ore the painting, and by the constant  pra erts with wvhiclstliey vwere ac



0          TALES OF THIE  CRUESADERS.
zornpanied, had constituted herself the peculiar votares.
of Our Lady of the Garde Doloureuse, tor so the picturte
was nanled.
Now, apart from others, alone, and in secrecy, sinking
in the extremity of her sorrow before the shrine of her
patroness, she  besought the protection of kindred purity
for the defence of lier freedom and honour, and invoked
vengeance on the wild and treacherous chieftain who had
slain her father, and was now beleaguering her place o0
strength.  Not only dlid she vow a large donative in lands
to the shrine of the protectress whose aid she implored;
but the oath passed her lips, (even though they faltered,
and though somlething within hler remonstrated against tne
vow,) that whatsoever fiavoured knight Our Lady of the
Garde Doloureutse mighlt employ for her rescue, should
obtain fr'om her in guerdon whatever boon she might lbonourably grant, were it that of her virgin hacnd at the holy
altar.  Taughlt as she was to believe, by the assurances
of many a k:night, that suchll  a surrender was the highest
boon wlhicll Heaven could bestow, slle felt  as  discharging a debt of gratitude  when slhe placed hersell
entirely at the disposal of the pure and blessed patroness
n whose aid she confided.  Perhaps there lurked in this
devotion  some earthly hope of which she was herself
scarce conscious, and w hich reconciled her to tle indefinite sacrifice thus freely offered.  The Virgin, (this flattering hope night insinuate,) kindest and most benevolent of' patronesses, will use compassionately the p)ower
resigned to her, and Ite will be the favoured champion
of Mlaria, upon whon her votaress would most willingly
confer favot.ir.
But if there was such a hope, as something selfish;
will often mlinlglm   withl otur lnolcest and ptlrest emotions
it arose unconscious of Eveline hersell, who, in the
full assurance of im)plicit faith, and fixing on the representative of lher adoration, eyes in which  tle most
earinest  supplication, the  most humble  confidence,
struggled with unbidden tears, was perhaps inore beauti
cfu tha:' when, young as she was, she was selected to




TIHE  BETROTIIEDI)                  71
bestow the prize of chivalry in tile lists of Chester.  It
was no wonder that, in such a mtomeut of high excitation,
when prostrated in (levotion before a being of whose
power to protect her, and to mnake her protection assured by a visible sign, she doubtcd notiing, the Lady Eveline conceived she saw withl  her own eyes the acceptance of her vow.  As she gazed on tl(e picture with an
overstrained eye, and an imagination heated with enthusiasm, the expression seenmed to alter frolr the hard outiilne, fashioned by the Greek piaintt.,r; thle eyes appeared
to become animnatedl, and to retur-in with looks of compassion the suppliant entreaties of the votaress, and the
mouth visibly arranged itself into a smile of inexpressible
sweetness.  It even seemed to her that the head made
a gentle inclination.
Overpowered by supernatural awe at a-ppearances, of
which her faith permitted her not to question the reality, the Lady Eveline  Il(lded her arllls on her bosom,
and  prostrated  her forehead on the pavemeilt, as the
posture most fittirg to listen to divine comlmunication.
But her vision went not so far; there was neither
sound nor voice, and when, after stealing lier eyes all
around the crypt in wlhich she knelt, slle agaill raised
them to the figrure of Our Lady, the features seeined to
be in the form in which the limnner had sketclhed them,
saving that, to Eveline's imnagination, they still retained
an august and yet gracious expression, which she had
not before remarked upon tlhe countenance.   With awfill reverence, almost amounting to fear, yet comforted,
and even elated, with tihe visitation she had witnessed, the
mai(en  repeated again and again tile orisons whlich she
thought most grateful to the ear of lher benetactress; (lnd,
rising at length, retired backwards, as from the presenlce
of a sovereign, until she attained thle outer chapel.
Here one or two females still knelt before thle saints
wllichl  the walls and nicihes presented for adoration; but
the rest of the terrified stl))})liants, too anxiouis to prolonig their devotions, had dispersed throuc-lh the castle to!1e"u tidlings of their friends, and to obtain some refresh7/65




72           TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
inent, or at least sonie  place of repose for themselve-ln(l thleir failllies.
lowivig ler lieani, and nmuttering an ave to each saint
as slle plassetl  his iniiage, (for iillp)ellding dangel makes
ien otservant of the rites of devotion,) the Ladly Eveline hlad almost reachedl the door of the clhapel, winhen a
nan-at-artmLs, as he seemhed, entered hastily; and, with
a lo(ier Voice thall suitedl the holy place, unless when
need  was lmlost urgenlt, dleiiianed the  Lady Eveline.
IInpiressed with thle feelilgs of venerationi which the late
scene Ia. f pirod(lce e, she was about to rebuke his military rudletless, when lhe spoke againi, and in anxious haste,
" Daugliter, we are betrayed!"  and  though  the folrlm,
and  thle coat-of-nlail   whlichl covered it, were those of a
soldier, the voice was that of Fathler Aldrovand, who,
eager and anxious at the salne tilne, disengaged himself
friom  the inail (hoodl, and( sllowed his coun.tenlanc e.
"  Falier," she said,'" what nleans this?  Have you
borgotten tile colnfidenlce in Heaven which you are wont
to recomlneiil, tliat you bear other armsi tllan your order
assigIIs to you?"
I Lt tl-ay comle to that ere lolg,'" said Father Aldrovantl; " fto  I was a snollier. re It  as a monk.   But
now I have don'c'd this  1arntiess to discover treachery, not
to resist foree.  Al! iny  beloved  tlaugllter-we  are
dreadtll'ilvl besetit-)einen withotlt -traitors witlin! r'e
false  FIt nrlil, Wilkin F'lhainnock, is treating  lor the
smir(endlelr of the castle!"
"  Wo (dares say so?" said a veiled f1emale, who had
been kmleeling uniotice(t in a sealtneste'red corner of tlhe
chapel, Iflut who now sta ited tit )and carne boldly betwixt
Ladyv Efvelile aiid thle nionk.
"Go hence, tlhotu saincy t ilnion," said tlhe monk, stirprised  at this bold  intelrruptionl;  " this concerns not
thee('."
Bullt it (doth concern  ne,"  sai(l the d(lasel, throw.ing bacik her vheil, and tlisovcr1iln tile  jpvenlwl e countenance of Rose, the danglhter of Wilkin Flarnelock, her'yes sparkling, and her cheeks blushing with anger, the




THE  BETROTIIEDI.                      73
veheimence of wrhich  malde a sinriular contrast vith the
very fair co1t)plexion,  an(l almost ilitantille featul es of thle
spewaker, whliose wh()le omirl6 l a(nd figilre was that of a girl
whlo  hlas scarce cemlnrged  h'oml  clii ldhoo(d, and in)deed
whose  general manners were as gentle  and!baslifitl as
thevy now seemned  bold, iln)assioned, andl itn(talmited.L )oth it lnot conlcereii Ji,"     slle said,   tlat my fatlher's
ilonest  iailme should l be tainted( \\with treason?  Doth  it
not con('cerl  thle  str'eami \mien the fOilutail is trollbled?
It doth conlcerl ie, an1(d.I \ ill know  tlhe autlor of the
" l)alsel,"   said Eveline, " restrain thy useless passion; the good faIther, thlolligh lhe ('all(ot illrentionally calumnliate tly hath'ter, slpeaks, it inay Ibe, fomn a tflse  re T)ort."
" As 1 am m  an u ilwortiy pm)lest,"  said  thle father, " 1
speak firomr the replort of lly own. ehars.  Ulipon the o"ath
of my order, Imyself heardt tlhis Wtilkin Flainmock   cllhafferiirg with the Welchmiian for tile surre(ndler of tlme Gardle
DoloUre(lse.  By hlelp of this Iatilberk a(t Illnail hood, I
gained  admnittance to a  colltcrence wleire  he  tlhou)glht
there  were no English ears.  They spoke Flemish too,
but I kniew the jargon of old(."
" Thle Flemlish,"' said the angry im-aiden, whose headstrong passion led her to speak first iii;amswer to the last
insllt offered,  " is no jargon like your piebald English,
half Norman, half Saxon, li)t a nolble Gotlhic tongue,
spokeml biy the brave warriors whlo  figlht againrst the
Romtan Kaisars, when Britain'lemut t}ie neck to th]emand as for this he hlas said of Williin Flalmmlock,'  sihe
continute(l, collecting her ideas'into  11otre orider as she
wvent omi, C' believe it lot, mIy dearlest lady; tlt,l as you
value the honour of your own niolble flatler. confid(e, as
in tlhe Evangelists, in tlie honesty (if mine i"   T'lis she
spoke  withl  an  impitlorinig ti,)ne of voice, mitigled with
sobs, as if her heart hlad b(c-mn tbreaklitig.
Eveline endeavoured to sootl lhler atten(latnt. " Rose,"
she said, " in this evil tinme suspicionls swill liglit oil tle
bs!t men, and  mistndelrstacldings will arise  anmoig tile
VOI,. 1.




711           TALES OF THE CRUSADEIRS.
best friends.  Let us hear the good ifather state what he
hlathi to charge upoon your Iparent.  Fear not but thai
W ilkin slhall,e heard inl his delence.' Thou wert wont
to be quliet anrid reasonlable.."
"I  amr  neithler clqtiet nor reasonable on thlis matter,"
said Hose, witll redltl! ed illlidnation;'and it. is ill of
you, lady, to listen to tile failsehoods of that reverend
munituner, who is neithler true priest nor true  soldier.
But I wvill fetch one who shall confiront himn either in
casque or cowl."
So saying, she went hastily out of the chapel, while
thle monk, after sonie pedantic circunmlocution, acquainted thle Lady Eveline   ith whlat hlie had overheard betwixt Jorworth anti WXilkin; and proposed to her to draw
togetlher the few  English who were in the castle, and
take possession of thie innermnost square tower; a keep
whIich, as usual in Gothic fortresses of the Norman peiod, was situated so as to Mnake considerable defence,
even after the exterior works of tile castle, which it cornmanded, were in the hand of the enemny.
"Father,"  said Eveline, still confident in the vision
she had lately witnessed, " this were good counsel in
extremity; but otherwise, it were to create the very evil
we fear, by setting our garrison at odds amongst tlhem
selves.  1 have a strong, and not unwarranted confidence,
good father, in our blessed Lady of this Garde Doloureuse, tlhat we shall attain at once vengeance on our barbarolls enemnies, aiid escape fiorn our present jeopardy;
and I call you to witness the vow I have made, that to
hin  whomn Our Iady stiould employ to work us succour,
I will refiuse notlhinr,  were it my father's inheritance, or
the hand oh' its daiughter."
Ave Mlaria! Ave Regina  ieli!" said the priest,' on a rock more sure you could not have founded your
trust.-But, daunlhter," he continued, after tile proper
ejacmmlation had  been made, " have you never heard,
even by a hint, that there was a treaty for your hand betwixt our m"ich-honoured lord, of whom  we are cruelly




THE BETROTHED.                     75
bereft, (Inay Gou assolzie his soul!) and the great house
of Lacy?"
"C Something I may have heard," said Eveline, droppinrg her eyes, while a sliglht tinge suffiused her cheek
" bult I refer me to the disposal of Our Lady of Succoul
and Consolation."
As she spoke, Rose entered the chapel with the same
vivacity she had shown in leaving it, leading by the hand
hIer father, whose sluggish though firmn step, vacant countenance, and heavy  demeanour, form ed the strongest,:ontrast to the rapidity of her motiols, and the anxious
animation of her address.   Her task of dragging himrn
forward might have reminded the spectator of some of
those ancient monuments on which a small cherub, singularly inadequate to the task, is often represented as
hoisting  upward towards the emp)yrean the fleshly bulk
of some ponderous tenant of the tomb, whose disproportioned weight bids fair to render ineffectual the benevolent and spirited exertions of its fluttering guide and
assistant.
L Roschen —my child —-what grieves thee?" said the
Netherlander, as he yielded to his daughter's violence
with a smile, which, b)eing on the countenance of a father, Ilad more of expression and feeling than those which
seemed to have made their constant dwelling upon his
lips.
" Here stands nmy father," said the irnpatient nlai(len;
"impeach him with treason, who can or dare!  T'lhere
stands Wilkin Flanmm-ock, son of Dieterick the Ctlrner
of Antwerp,-let those accuse him to his face who slandered him bellind his back!"
"Speak, Father Aldrovand," said tlle Lady Eveline;
"we are young in our lordship, and, alas! the duty halti
de.lscended upon us in an evil hour, yet we wvill, so may
God and Outr lady help us, hear and judge of your acc. sation to the utmrost of Our poweri,"
This W;ilkin Flanimock," said the monkl,  " however
b)ld he hatli made himself in villany, dares not den)




F 6         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
that I heard him  with my own ears treat for the sulreyi.
der of the castle."
" Strike hiin, father!" said tle indignant Rose,"strike thie disguised Illtlinner! Th'le steel hauberkl,nay
be struck, though not thie  ionk's frock —strike him, or
tell him that lie lies foully!"
"Peace, Rosehlen, thou art mad," said her father,
angrily;  " the lniok hath moore trutlh than sense about
him, and I woulld his ears had bee)n flartlier off when he
thrtust them into what. concernedl him not."
Rose's countenance fell whenl slie  ie-ard hler fatller
bluntly avow the treasonable coln munication of wvliclh she
had thoughit him  incapable-she droplt the hantl  by
which she had dragged hinm into the chapel, and stared
on the Lady Eveline, with eyes wvhich seemed starting
froio their sockets, and a' countenance from  whichll the
blood, with which it was so lately highly coloured, had
retreated to garrison the heart.
Eveline looked upon the cull)rit with a countenance in
whichl sweetness and dignity were mingled with sorrow.
" Wilkin," slle said, "I could riot have b)elievet this.
What! on -the very day of thy confiding bl)eefactor's
death, canst thou have been tamnpering with llis Inurllerers, to deliver up the castle, and betray thy trust!-But
I will not up)braid thee-I deprive thee of the trlust reposed in so unworthy a person, and appoint thee to be
kept in ward in the western tower, till God send tus relief: when, it may be, thy daughter's merits shall atone
for thy  offences, anti save farther pu)nishment.-See
that our commands be presently obleyed."' Yes-ves —yes!"  exclaimed Rose, hurrying one
word on the other as fast and vehemently as she could
articul;te-" ILet us go-let tus go to the darkest duiigeon
-d.arkness befits us better than ll   irllht."
T]le monk, on the otller hbaid, perceiving  tlhat thle
Fleming made no motion to obey tile nlandate of arrest.
canie forward, in a inanner more sulitiJng his ancient profession and present disguise, than his spiritual character;
and with the words, " I attach thee, Wilkin Flammnock




THE  BETROTHED.                     7'
nf acKn )wledged treason to your liege lady," would ihave
laid hand upln him, had not tile Flemii. g stepped back
and warned him  off, with a menacing and deterinned
gesture, while he said,-" Ye are mad!-all of you
English are mad when the moon is full, and my silly girl
hath caught the malady.-Lady, your honoured lathei
gave ine a charge, which I purpose to execute to the best
for all parties, and you cannot, being a minor, deprive
mre of it at your idle pleasure.-Father Aldrovand, a
nlonk makes no lawfill arrests.- DaugLlliter Roscl:en,
hold your peace and dry your eyes-you are a fool."
"   am, I am," said Rose, drying her eyes and regaining her elasticity of manner — " I aml i-ndeed a fool, and
worse than a fool, for a moment to (doulbt my fathllel's
probity.-Confide in him, dearest lady   lihe is wise
though he is grave, and kind thoulgl lie is plain and
lhomely in hlls sp)eeclh.   Should he prove failse lihe will
fare the worse! for I will plunge myself firom the pilnacle of the Warder's Tower to tile bottoml of the inoat, and
he shall lose his own daughter for betrayilg his master's."
" This is all frenzy," said the monk-h" Who trusts
avowed traitors?-Itere, Nornians, English, to tile rescue of your liege, lady-Bows and }hills-bows anld bills!"'" You may spare your tlhroat for. your next hlolmily,
good fatller,"  said tle Netlerlander, "or call ill good:1
Flemish, since you understand it, for to no otlier langua-e will those within hea(-ring  reiply."
lie tlen aplroached tlle Lady- EveFline with a real or
affectedl air of cltlsy kindness, and soinetligii as lcar lv
approacnmlg to cotlrtesy as his nannllers and  eatllres
could assume.  He bade her good,lighJt, and, assurillg
her that lie would act for the best, left tlle chapel.  Thle
monk was about to break forth into reviliugs, but E-veline,
with more prudence, checked his zeal.
"I cannot," shle said, " but hope that thiis man's intentions are lonest    "
"Now, God's blessings on you, lady, for tllat very
VOL. I.




lb         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
word!" said Rose, eagerly interrupting her, and kissing
her hand.
1" But if unhappily tney are  doubtful,"  continued
Eveline, "it is not by reproach that we can bring hinm
to a better purpose.  Good father, give an eye to the
preparations for resistance, and see nought omitted that
our means furnish for the defence of the castle."
"Fear nothing, my dearest daughter," said  Aldrovand; " there are still some English hearts amongst us.
and we willi rather kill and eat the Flemings themselves,
than surrender the castle."
"That were food as dangerous to come by as bear's
venison, father," answered  Rose, bitterly, still on fire
with the idea that the monk treated her nation with suspicion and contumely.
On these terms they separated;- the women to indulge their fears and sorrows in private grief;, or alleviate
them by private devotion; the monk to try to discover
what were the real purposes of Wilkin Flamnmock, and
to counteract them if possible, should they seem to indicate treachery.  His eye, however, though sharpened
by strong suspicion, saw nothing to strengthen his fears,
excepting that the Fleming had, with considerable inilitary skill, placed the principal posts of the castle in the
charge ol his own countrymen, which must make any
attempt t., dispossess him  of his present authority both
difficult and dangerous.  The monk at length retired,
sunmmoned by the duties of the evening service, and witl
the determination to be stirring with the light the next
rmorning.




THIE  BETROTHE D.)                   79
CHAPTER VIH.
O, sadly shlines the tortllilng sun
On leaguertd castle wa!l,
When bastioil, tower. andl battlement,
Seem nodding to their fall.
Old Ballad.
TRUtE to his resolution, and telling his beads as he
Went, tllat he might lose no tilne, Father Aldrovand began his rounds in. the castle so soon as day-liglit ltad
touched the top of' the eastern llorizon.   A natutral instinc.t led him first to those stalls which, had the lb'rtress
been properly victualled for siege, ought to lhave been
tenanted by cattle;  and  great was  his  delight  to
see more than a score of fat kine and bullocks in the
place which had last night been empty!  One of' tllem
had already been carried to the shambles, and a Fleming or two, who played butchers on the occasion, were
dividinig the carcass for the cook's use.  The good fathier had well nighi cried out, a miracle; bht, not to be too
precipitate, lie lim-ited his trantsport to a private exclaniation in honour of Otur Lady ot the Garde Dololuretse.
"' Who talks of lack of provender!-wllo speaks of
surrender now!" he said.  " Here is enough to maintain lis till Hugo De Lacy arrives, were lie to sail back
oinom Cyprus to our relief.  I did purpose to have fasted
this morning, as well to save victuals as on a religious
score; but the blessing of the saints must not be slighted.-Sir Cook, let me have half a yard or so of broiled
aeef presently; bid the pantler send me a manchet, and
the butler a cup of wine.  I will take a running break-'ast oil the western battlements."t~
At this place, which was ratlier tle wleakest point ot
tLe Garue Doloureuse, the good f'atlwtri fo)nL,' WVBfilkin
F lammock anxiously superintending the ntceit'ary mIctasulres of defence.  Bfc greeted hii c.ollltenisly, congrat



80          TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
ulated him  on the stock of provisions with wh ch tihe
castle hlad been supplied during the night, and was inquiring how they had been so happily introduced through
tile W'elch besiegers, when Wilkin took the first occasion
to interrupt hin.
" Of all this another tire, good fatherl; but I wish at
present, and befbre othler discourse, to consult thee on
a matter which  )resses my conscienlce, and imoreover
deeply concerns  ily worldly estate."
"Speak on, my excellent son," said the father, con
ceiXring that bhe sllould] thus gain thle key to Wilkin's real
intentions.   " 0, a tender conscience is a jewel! and
lie that will not listen when it saitli,' pour out thy (loUbits
into the ear of the priest,' shall one day have his own
dolorous outcries choked with fire and brimstone. Thlou
wert ever of a tender conscience, son - Wilkin, though
thotl hast but a rough and borrel bearing."
" Well, then," said Wilkin, " you are to know, good
father, thlat I have had some dealings with my neigllbour,
Jan Vailwelt, conceling nimy daugliter Rose, and that. lie
ihas paid Ine certain guilders on condition I will match
her to lim."
" P'slaw, pshaw! my good son," said the disappointed confessor, " tlis gear can lie over —this is no titme for
marrying or giving in marriage, when we are all like to
be nitlrdered."
"Nay, but hear me, good fatiher," said the Fleming,
for this )point of conscience concerns the present case
more nearly tlian you wot of.-You must know I have
no will to bestowv Rose on this  same Jan Vanwelt, wL,.
is old, and of ill conditions; and I would know of ycii
whethler I Inay, in conscience, reftse himl my consent?'
"Tult," said Aldrovand, " Rose is a pretty lass,
thtortgli soimewhat hasty; and I think you may honestly
withlldraw yo r comisent, always on paying l,ack the guilde!ls youql l11ave receirved."
[)1,1  ltheIe lies the plinch, good father," said the
Plelnitir —" the refilndirg this mloney will reduce me
o L utter poverty.   The WVelch have destroyed my sub



THE  BETROTHIED.                    8.1
st'ance; and tllis hIandfuil of money is all, God lhelp nlie!
on il icll I  lmust begin the Nworld again."
"Nevertlleless, son Wilkin," said Aldrovand, "thou
must keep thy word, or pay thle forfeit; for what saith
the text? Quis habitabit in tabernaculo, quis r equiescet
in monte sancto? -'W'ho sllall ascend to the tabernacle.
and dwell in the holy mountain?  Is it not answered
again, Qui jurat proximro et non decipit?-Go to, my
son-b-reak niot tily plighted word fbr a little filthy lucre
-better is an einpty stomach and an hungry heart with
a clear conscience, than a fitted ox wvith iniquity and
Wor(l-hbreakinlg.-Sawest thotl not our late noble lord,
who (may llis soul be happy!) chose rather to die in
unequal battle, like a true knight, tllan live a }~erjuried
man, tthoulgll he lhad but spoken a rash word to a lWelchrman over a Nwine flask?"
" Alas! thenl," said thle Fleming, "'this is even what I
feared! We lmust e'en render up the castle, or restore
to tile Welchman, Jorworth, the cattle, by  means of
wlhich I lhad schelned to victual and defend it."
" LHow —wherefore-what dost thou mean?" said the
monk, in astonishment.   " I speak to thee  of Rose
Flanumock, and Jan Van-devil, or -whatever you  call
him, and you reply with talk about cattle and castles,
and I wot not whlat!"
" So llease youl, hloly father, I did but speak in parables.'lThis castle was the daughter I had promisedl to
deliver over-the  Welchman is Jlan Vanwelt, and the
guilders were the cattle lie has sent in,. as a part payment
bef;ore-hand of my gluerdon.":' Parables!" said the monk, colouring with anger
at tile trick pult on hin; " what has a boor like tilee to
do with parables?-B3t I forgrive thee —-l forg ive thee."
I ain therefore to )ield tile castle to the VVelch man,
ar restore him hlis cattle?" said the impenetrable Dutchnain.
"Sooner yield thy soul to Satan!" replied the monk.
"  fear me it must be the  alternative,"  said  the
Fleming; " for the ex.anple of thy honourable lor —'




S 2         TALES OF TIlE  CRUSADERSe
" The example of an honourable fool-" answered the monk; tllen presently subjoined, " Oulr aLndvIy be
tvith her servant!-this  13elgic-brained boor rmakes r-me
forget what I would sayr."
"Nay, but the holy text which your reverence cited
to me even now," continued the Fleming.
Go to," said the monk; " wlat hast thou to do to
presume to think of texts?-knowest thou not that thle
letter of the scripture slayeth, and that it is the exposition
which inaketh to live?-Art thou not like one who, corning to a physician, conceals from him half tile sylin)toms
of the disease? —[ tell thee, thou foolish Flelning, the
text s)eaketh but of promises made unto Christians,
and tilere is in the Rubric a special exception of such
as are made to Welchmen."  At this commentary the
Flemlling grinned so broadly as to show his wlhole case of
broad. strong whvite teeth.   Father Aldrovand himself
grinned  in sympathy, and then proceeded to say,"( C:ome, come, I see how it is.  Thou'hast studied some
small revenge on me for doubting  of thy truth; and,
in verity, I think thou hast taken it wTittily enough. I:3Ut
wilerefore didst thou not let me into the secret fromi tthe
beginning? I promise thee I had foul susp}icions of thee."
" What!" said the Fleming, " is it possible 1 could
ever think of involving your reverence in a little matter
of deceit?   Surely Heaven hatil sent me mIore grace
and manners.-H ark I hlear Jorworth's horn at thle gate."
" fHe blows like a town  swine-herd,"'  said Aldrovand, in disdain.
" It is not your reverence's pleasure that I should re.store the cattle unto him, then?"' said Flalllock.
"Yes, thus far.   Prithee  deliver him  straiglitway
over the walls such a tub of boiling water as sha.ll scald
the hlair friom llis goat-skin cloak.   And,  alrk thee, do
tlhou, in tle first place, try tl}e temtnerature of the kettle
witl- tlhy fore-finger, and that shall be thy penance tor
the trick thou hI:st played me."'
The Flellinig answered this with another broad grin of
intelligelnce, and tlhey proceeded to the outei gate, to




THE BETROTIIHED.                   83
whichl Jorworth had come alone. Placing himself at thb
wicket, wliich, hlowever, lie kept carefullly barred, and
speaking throuh a sminall opening, contrive(l fir such
[purlose, Wilkin Flammock demanded of the Welchbnan!his business.'To  receive rendition  of the castle, agreeable  to
promise," said Jorworth.
" Ay? and art thou come on such an errand alone?"
said Wilkin.
No, truly," answered Jorworth; "I have some two
score of men concealed among yonder bushes."
"Then thou hladst best lead  them  away quickly,"
answered Wilkin, "before our archers let fly a sheafof
arrows among them."
How, villain! 1Dost thou not mean to keep thy
promniise?" said the Welchmliran.
"i gave thee none," said the Fleming;  "I promised but to think on what thou didst say.  I have done so,
alnd hlave communicated with my ghostly father, who will
in no respect hear of my listening to thy proposal."
And wilt tlou,"  said Jorworth, "' keep the cattle,:vlicli I sim 1ply sent in to the castle on the faith of our
agreement?"
"'  will excommunicate and deliver him over to Satan," said tile monk, unable to wait the phlegmnatic and
urge,                                   give hornohoof,
liWgering answer of the Fleming,  " if he give horn, hoof,
or hair of' them, to such an uncircumcised Philistine as
thou or thy master.'
" it is well, shorn  priest," answered Jorworth1, inl
great anger.  "But mark me —reckon not on your friock
for ransom.   When Gwenwyn liath taken this casile, as
ii sliall not longer slielter such a pair of faitllless traitors,
I will have ye sewed up each into the carcass of one of
these line, for which your l)enitent has forsworn him!self,
findll lay youtl where wolf and eagle shall be your only
cPmpanions."
"'lloU wilt work thy will when it is matched withi
thy pow-ver." said the sedate Netherlander.




634           TALES OF TIlE  CRUSADERS.
"CFalse Welchnman, we defy thee to thy teetli!" an
swered, in the samte  )reath, thle nore   irascibl)e monk,
" I trust to see tile h1ounds gnaw tlly joints ere rliat day
comle that ye talk of so prouidlyl."
By wav  of answer to  both, Jorwortll drew  back his
arm with his levelled javelill. and slakillg the shaft. till it
acquired a vibratory  motioll, lie hulrled it with  elqual
strength and dexterity right against the aplerture  in the
wicket.  It whizzedl tllrough the opening at which it was
ainmed, and flew  (llarmllessl),  hlowever,)  between the
heads ol tile mlonk  and lthe Flelilng;  the Flibrnler of
whom started back, while tile latter only said, as lie looked at the javelin, whllich stood  quivering  in the door of
the glarld rooln, "That  was wvell aimed, and happily
balked."
Jorworth, the instant he had flung lhis dart, hastened
to the ainblusll whichl lie had pirepared, and gave them at
once tile signal and the examplle of a ralpid retreat down
the lhill.  Fathler Aldrovalld wotuld willingly have followed them  with a volley of arrows, but tile Fielinig ohserved that amnmllnition was too precious with thetn to be
wasted on a tewv runaways.  Perlhaps tile honest man remnemblered t lat thley had come withlin the danger of such
a saillatinl, in some measure, on lhis own assurance.
When the noise of tile hasty retreat of Jorworth anid
his followers had (lied away, there ensued a dead! silence,
well corresponding with  tle coolness and calmniess of
that early holor in the morning.
" This will 1not last long," said Wilkin to the monk, in
a tone of  oretboding seriousness, which found an echo
in tile good fatler's bosomrl.
" It will not, and it cannot,"  answvered Aldrovand;': and we must expect a sllrewd attack, which 1 sho(uld
mnimid liltle, but tlhat their numllbers are great, orirs few;
the extentt of tIte walls consi(lerable, and tlme obstinacy
)f these \Velc(l  fiends almost equal to thleir fiury.  But
we  will (1o tile b}est.  I will to the I,ady Eveline-she
mUrst show  herself tIpon the battlements-She is fairer
n feature thian becoimeth a man of my order to speak




TIHE BETROTIi;D.                     85
of; and slie hlas withal a breathing of her fatller's lofty
S31irit.  Tile look and the word of such a.ady will give
a man dcouble strength in the hour of' nee(."' It mnay be," said tile Fleming; " and I will go see
that the  good breakfast which  I have  appointed  be
presently served forth; it will give my Flemings more
strength than the sight of the ten thousand virgins-mnay
their help be with us!-were they all arranged on a fair
field."
CHAPTER VIII.'Twas wvhen ye raised,'mid sap and siep,
The banner of your rightfill liege
At yotur she captain's call,
Who, miracle of womankind,
Lent mettle to the meanest hlnd
That mann'd her castle wall.
WILLIAM STEWART ROSE.
TiFE  morning light was scarce fully spread abroad,
when Eveline Berenger, in compliance with her confessor's advice, commenced her progress around the walls
and battlements of the beleaguered castle, to confirm,
by her personal entreaties, the minds of the valiant, and
to rouse the more timid to hope and to exertion.  She
wore a rich collar and bracelets, as ornaments vwhich
indicated lier rank and high descent; and her under
tunic, in the manner of the times, was gathered around
her slender waist by a girdle, embroidered with precious
stones, and( secured by a large buckle of gold.   From
one side of the girdle was suspended a pouch or purse,
sp)lendlidly adorned with needle-work, and on the left side
it sustained a small dagger of exquisite worknlanship.
A  dark-coloured mantle, chosen as emblematic of her
louded fortunes, was flung loosely around her; and
5  VOL. 1.




86         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS,
its hood was brought forward, so as to shadow, but noi
hide, her beautiful countenance.  Her looks had lost tle
high and ecstatic expression which had been inspired
by supposed revelation, but they retained a sorrovvwful
and mild, yet determined character-and, in addressingl
the soldiers, she used a mixture of entreaty and comnmiand
-now throwing herself upon their protection-now d(:nanding in her aid the just tribute of their allegiance.
The garrison was divided, as military skill dictated, ill
groups, on the points most liable to attack, or from which
an assailing enemy might be best annoyed; and it was
this unavoidable separation of their force into small detachments, which showed to disadvantage the extent of
walls, compared with the number of the defenders; and
though Wtilkirn Flammock had contrived several means of
concealing this deficiency of force forom the enemy, he
c(dlld not disguise it from the defenders of lhe castle,
who cast mournful glances on the length of the battlements which were unoccupied save by sentinels, and
then looked out to the fatal field of battle, loaded with
the bodies of those who ought to have been their comrades in this hour of peril.
The presence of Eveline did much to rouse the garrison from this state of discouragement.  She glided fiorn
post to post, from tower to tower of the old grey fortress,
as a gleam of light passes over a clouded  landscape,
and, touching its various points in succession, calls them
out to beauty and effect.  Sorrow and fear sometimes
make sufferers eloquent.  She addressed the various
nations who composed her little garrison, each in apjlropriate language.  To the English, she spoke as children of' the soil-to the Flemings, as men who had becolne denizens by the right of hospitality-to the Normans, as descendants of that victorious race, whose sword
had made thern the nobles and sovereigns of every land
where its edge had been tried.  To them she used the
language of chivalry, by whose rules the meanest of tlhat
nation regoulated, or affected to regulate, his actions.
The Engllish she reminded of their good faith and hon



THEr  BETRIOTHED.                St
esty of heart; and to tihe Flemings she spoke of the ae
struction of their property, the fruits of their honest
industry.  To all she proposed vengeance for the death
of their leader and his followers-to all she recommended confidence in God and Our Lady of' tile Garde Doloureuse; and she ventured to assure all, of the strong and
victorious bands that were already in march to their relief.
1' Will the gallant champions of the cross," she said,' think of leaving their native land, while the wail of
women and of orphans is in their ears?-it were to
convert their pious purpose into mortal sin, and to derogate from the high famne they have so well won.  Yes
-fight but valiantly, and perhaps, before the very sun
that is now slo-wly rising shall sink in the sea, you will
see it shining on the ranks of Shrewsbury and Chester.
When did the Welchiiten wait to hear the clangour of
their trumpets, or the rustling of their silken banners?
Fight bravely-fight freely but a while!-our castle is
strong —our munition ample-your hearts are goodyour arms are powerful-God is nigh to us, and our
friends are not far distant. Fight, then, in the name of
all that is good and holy, fight for yourselves, for your
wives, for your children, and for your property-and oh!
fight for an orphan maiden, who hath no other defenders but what a sense of her sorrows, and the remembrance of her father, may raise up among you!"
Such speeches as these made a powerful impression
on the men to whom they were addressed, already hardened, by habits and sentiments, against a sense of danger.  The chivalrous Normans swore, on the cross of
their swords, they would die to a man ere they would
surrender their posts-the blunter Anglo-Saxons cried,
" Shame on him who would render up such a lamb as
Eveline to a Welch wolf, while he could make her a
bulwark with his body!"-Even the cold Flemings
caught a spark of the enthusiasm with which the others
were animated, and muttered to each other praises of
the young lady's beauty, and short but honest resolves to
do the best they miglht in her defence
766




88         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Rose Flammoi k, who accompanied her la ly with one
or two attendants upon her circuit around the castle,
seemned to have relapsed into her natural character of a
shy and timid girl, out of the excited state into which
she had been brought by the suspicions which in the
evening before had attached to her father's character.
She tripped closely but respectfully after Eveline, and
listened to what she said from time to time, with the awe
and admiration of a child listening to its tutor, while
only her moistened eye expressed how far she felt or
comprehended the extent of the danger or the force of
the exhortations. There was, however, a moment when
the youthful maiden's eye became more bright, her step
more confident, her looks more elevated.  This was
when they approached the spot where her father, having
discharged the duties of commander of the garrison, was
now exercising those of engineer, and displaying great
skill, as well as wonderful personal strength, in directing
and assisting the establishment of a large mangonel, (a
military engine used for casting stones,) upon a station
commanding an exposed postern-gate, which led from
the western side of the castle down to the plain; and
where a severe assault was naturally to be expected.
The greater part of his armour lay beside him, but covered with his cassock to screen it from the morning dew;
while in his leathern doublet, with arms bare to the
shoulder, and a huge sledge-hammer in his hand, he set an
example to the mechanics who worked under his direction.
In slow and solid natures there is usually a touch.of
shamefacedness, and a sensitiveness to the breach of
petty observances.  Wilkin Flammock had been unmoved even to insensibility at the imputation of treason so lately cast upon him; but he coloured high, and
was confused, while, hastily throwing on his cassock, he
endeavoured to conceal the dishabille in which he had
been surprised by the Lady Eveline. Not so his daughter.  Proud of her father's zeal, her eye gleamed from
him to her mistress with a look of triumph, which seem



THE BETROTHED.                     89
ed to say, "And this faithful follower;s he wlhizo was
stuspected of treacihery!"
Eveljne's own bosom  made her the sarme rteprouach;
and anxiouts to atone for lier molnentary doulbt of his fidelity, she offered for his acceptallnce a ring of value,;' in
smnall alrlends," she said, " of a Imomnentary tnisconStru('tion."
" It needs not, lady," said Flamnock, with his usua
oluntness,'" unless I have the freedom  to bestow  the
gaud on Rose; for I think she was grieved enough al
that which moved me little, —as why should it?"
" Dispose of it as thou  wilt," said Eveline; " the
stone it bears is as true as thine own fiattih."
H'ere Eveline paused, and looking oil the broald expaended plain which extended between tle site of thle
castle and the river, observed how silent and still thle
morning was rising over what had so lately been a scene
of such extensive slaughter.
"It will not be so long," answeretl Flarnmock; " we
shall have noise enough, and that nearer to our ears than
yesterday."
" Which way lie the enemy?" said Evelihe; " methinks I can spy neither tents nor pavilions."'
"They use none, lady,"  answered  Wilkin  Flamnmock.  s Heaven has denied them the grace and knowledge to weave linen enough for such a putrpose-Yonder
they lie on 1)oth sides of thle river, covered with naught
but their white iantles.  Would one tlhink that a host of
thieves and cutt-tlhroats could look so like the finest ob-;ect in nature-a well-spread bleaching-field?-Harkhark!-the wasps are beginning to buzz; they will soon
be plying their stings."
In fact, there was heard among the Welch army a
low and indistinct 1Ilurmtlu1r, like tla.t of
Bees alarin'd, and mustering in their hives.
Terrified at the hollow menacing sound, which grew
louder every moment, Rose, who had all the irratibility
VOL.. I.




90'rTALES OF TIlE -CRUSADIERt
of a sensitive tem)perarent., clung to lher fattler's arni,
saying, in a terrified whisler, " It is like the sound of
the sea the nighrt before the great ilundation."
A ndld it betokens too rough weather for women to be
abroad in," said Flanlmock.   " Go to youi  chxamlber,
lady Eveline, if it be your will-and go. you too, Roschen —God bless you both-ye do but keep us idle here."
Anid, indeed, conscious thlat she had done all that was
illnlcumbeut t upon hler, and fearfull lest the chill which she
felt creeping over her own ]heart should infect others,
Eveline took her vassal's adtvice, and witlhdrew slowly to
her own apartment, ofteni casting back her eye to the
place where the Welch, now drawni out anld ulndler arms,
were advancing their ridgy battalionls, like thle waves ot
an approachling tidle.
The Prince of Powys had, with coilsiderable military:skill, adopled a plan of attack suitable tothle fiery genius
of his followers, and calculated to alarm  on every point
the feeble garrison.
The three sides of the castle whlich were defended
by thet river, were vatclhed eacti by a numerous body of
the 1British, with instructions to confine themselves to the
dischllarge of arrows, uinless they should observe that some
tavourable opportunity of close attack should occur..But
far the greater part; of Gwenwyn's forces, consisting of
three columnis of great stregt.ll, advanced along the plain
on the western side of the castle, and menaced, with a
desperate assault, the walls, which, in that direction, were
deprived of the defence of the river.  The first of these
formidable bodies consisted  entirely  of archers, who
dispersed themselves in front of the beleaguered place,
and took advantage of every bush and rising ground
which could afford them shelter; and then began to bend
Jheir bows and shower their arrows on the battlements
and loop-holes, suffering, however, a great deal more
damage than they were able to inflict, as the garrison returned their shot in comparative safety, and with more secure and deliberate aim.11 Under cover, however, of theit
discharge of arrows, two very strong bodies of Welchl




THEI  BETROTHED.                    91
et.empted to carry the outer lefences of the castle by
storm1.  Tlhey had  axes to destroy tile palisadles, then
called barrie'rs; fagots to fill up the external ditclhes
torches to set fire to altht conibustib)le which they might
find; and, above all, ladders to scale tile walls.
These detachments rushed with incredible fiury towar(ls the point of attack, despite a most obstilnate defence, and the great loss which they sustained by tissiles of every kitnl, and continued tile assault for ilearly
an hour, suppliedl  by reinforcements' which Inore tllan
recruited tlheir' dirninished nutlllers.   Whenl tlhev iwere
at  last  comp,)elled to retreat, they seemed to adlopt a
new and yet mnore harassinlg species of atlacl<.  A large
body assaulted one exposed poinlt of the forttress with
such fury. -as to draw thlither as mnany of the  Iesiwge(l as
could p:)ossibly be spared friom othl'er defendefd posts, and
when there appIeared a po(ilt less stronIly mlannled thlan
was adequate to defence, tl-at ir its lturl  was fi'riouslv
assailed by a separate body of the enem-llr.
Thus the defenders of the Garde Doloullrese resem.
t)led the embarrassed traveller engaged in repelling a
swarm of hornets, which, while lhe brushes them  frolm one
part, fix in swarms upon lanother, and drive himn- to despair by their numl:ers, and the boldness and mtultiplic ity
of their attacks.  The postern, b)eing of course a tirincipal point of attack, Father Aldrovand, whose al!xiety
would not permit him  to be absent fi'orn the walls, anrld
who, indeed, where decency would permit, took an occ;asional share in the active defence of the place, hastened thither as the point chiefly in danger.
Here he found the Fleming, like a second Ajax, grim
with dust and blood, working with his own  hands the
great engine which he had lately helped to erect, and at
the same time giving heedfuil eye to all the exigencies
around.
" How tninkest thou of this day's w-ork?"  said tlhe
monk in a whisper.' What skills it talking of it, father?" replied Flarn




92          TALES OF THE  RUItSADERS.
mock; " thou art no soldier, and I have no time ior
Wol ds.
" N-y, take thy breath," said the monk, tucking uF
the si\(vcs of' his frock; " I will try to help thee the
whilst-althlough, Our Lady pity me, I know  nothing
Df these stranlle devices, —not even the names.  But our
rule conmmands us to labour; there can be no harm,
therefore, in turning this winch-or in placing this steelheaded piece of wood opposite to the cord, (suiting his
action to his words,) nor see I ought uncanonical in adjusting the lever thus, or in touching the spring."
The large bolt whizzed through the air as he spoke,
and was so successfuilly aimed, that it struck down a
Welch chief of eminence, to whom Gwenwyn himself was
in the act of giving some important charge.
"Well driven, trebuchet-well flown, quarrell!" cried
the monk, unable to contain his delight, and giving, in
his triuliph, the true technical names to the engine, and
the javelin which it discharged.
"And well aimed, monk," added Wilkin Flarnmock;
I think thou knowest more than is in thy breviary."
is Care not thou for that," said the father; " and now
that thou seest I can work an engine, and that the Welch
knaves seem  something low in stomach, what think'st
thou of our estate?"
"Well enough-for a bad one-if we may hope for
speedy succour; but men's bodies are of flesh, not of
iron, and we may be at last wearied out by numbers.
Only one soldier to four yards of wall, is a fearltl odds;
and the villains are aware of it, anid keel us to sharp
work."
T'ile renewal of the assault here broke off their conversation, nor did the active enemy permitit thern to en joy
much repose until sunset; for, alarming them  with
repeated  menaces of attack  upou  dlilferent  points,
besides making two or three formlidable and furious
assaults, they left them scarce time to breathe, or
to take a moment'- refrieshment.   Yet the Welsh
paid a severe price  for their temerity; for. whlile




THE BETROTHED.                   93
nothing could exceed the bravery with which their imen
repeatedly advanced to the attack, those which were
made latest in the day had less of animated desperation
than their first onset; and it is probable, that the sense
of having sustained great loss, and apprehension of its
effects on the spirits of his people, made nightfall, and
tile interruption of the contest, as acceptable to Gwenwyn as to the exhausted garrison of the Garde Doloureuse.
But in the camp or leaguer of the Welch there was
glee and triumph, for the loss of the past day was forgotten in recollection of the signal victory which had
preceded this siege; and the dispirited garrison could
hear from their walls the laugh and the song, the sound
of harping and gaiety, which triumphed by anticipation
over their surrender.
The sun was for some time sunk, the twilight deepened, and night closed with a blue and cloudless sky, in
which the thousand spangles that deck the firmament received double brilliancy from some slight touch of frost,
although the paler planet, their mistress, was but in her
first quarter.  The necessities of the garrison were considerably aggravated by that of keeping a very strong and
watchfill guard, ill according with the weakness of their
numbers, at a time which appeared favourable to any
sudden nocturnal alarm; and, so urgent was this duty,
that those who had been more slightly wounded on the
preceding day, were obliged to take their share in it, notwithstanding their hurts.  The monk and Fleming, who
now perfectly understood each other, went in company
around the walls at midnight, exhorting the warders to
be watchful, and examining with their own eyes the
state of the fortress.  It was in the course of'hese
rounds, and as they were ascending an elevated( platform
by a range of narrow and uneven steps, something galling to the monk's tread, that they perceived on the sunmmit to which they were ascending, instead of tt- e black
2ors!et of the Flemish sentinel rwho had been placed tho're,:wo white forms, the atppearance of which struck AWi kin
]lainmlo k with more dismay than lie had shown during




4  TALES OF THIE CItUSAI)ERS.
any of the doubtful events of the preceding day's fight
" Father," he said, " betake yourself to your tool,es saUct —there are hobgoblins here!"
The good father had not learned as a priest to dely
the spiritual host, Awhrlmln, as a soldier, hle had dreaded
more than any mort-tl enemy; but lie negan to recite
with chattering teeth, the exorcism of the church, " Coniuro vos omnes, spirituts  mali ni, magni, g tque parvi,"when lie was interrupted by the voice of Eveline who
called out, " Is it you, Father Aldrovand?"
Much lightened at heart by finding they had no ghost
to deal with, Wilkin Flammock and the priest advanced
hastily to the platform, where they found the lady with
her faithful Rose, the former with a half-pike in her hand,
like a sentinel on duty.
H" ow is this, daughter?" said the monk;'" how
came you here, and  thus armed? and where is the
sentinel,-the lazy Flemish hound, that should haA e kept
the post?"
M' May he not be a lazy hound, yet not a Flemish,ne, father?" said Rose, who was ever awakened  by
anything wllich seemied a reflection upon her country;
" llnethinks, I have heard of such curs of Englislh breed."' Go to, Rose, you are too malapert for a young
mnaiden,?'  said her father.   " Once more, where is
Peterkin Voist, wvho should have kept this post?"
"Let him not he blamed for my fault," saidt Eveline,
pointinll to a place whlere the Flemnish sentinel lay in
the shade of the battlement fast asleep.-" He was
avercome with toil-hlad fought hard through the day,
and( when I saw him asleep as I came hither, like a wan
dering Pirit that cannot take slumber or repose, I would
nfrt dist.urb the rest which I envied.  As lie had foughllt
t5)r me, I  might, I thoughlt, watch an hotir for lmiin; so
i     ttok ils weapl)on with the pllrpose of remainling here
til st3li-t fi,e should coznme to relieve him."
" t wrill relieve the schelm, with a vengeance!" said
Wilkin Flamrmock, and salurted the slumbering and prostrate  warcler with two kicks which made his co,slei




THE BETROTHED.                     3 95
clatter.  Thle man started to his feet in no small alarm,
which he would have coinrmtnicated t ttlhe next sentinels an-d to the whole garrison, by c.rying out tlhat thle
Ve. tchI were upon tie wails, had not tile monk covereCd
hi s,ovT.. r monuth with his hand  just as t2he roar was
is3nli!:g forth.-" Peace, and get thee diown to the under
bayley," said he;-" thou deservest deatli, by all the
-jlicies of war-but, look ye, varlet, and see.who has'
saved your worthless neck, by watching while you were!'ellining of swine's flesh and beer-pots."
The Fleming, althougha is yet but half awake, was suff,,;o'1tl$ y consc-ai s of his situation, to sneak off witlout
re;ply, after two or three awkward congees, as well to
Eveline as to those by whom  his repose had been so
ut:nceremoniously interrupted.
H; ie deserves to be tied neck and heel, the houndsfokot," said Wilkin.  " But whllat would you have, lady?
My countrymen cannot live without rest or sleep."  So
saying, he gave a yawn so wide as if lie had proposed
to swallow one of the turrets at an angle of the platform
on whlich he stood, as if it had only garnished a Christmas pasty.
" True, good Wilkin," said Evelint; " and do you
therefore take some rest, and trust to my watchfulness.
at least till the guards are relieved.   I cannot sleep if
I would, and I would not if I could."
" Thanks, lady," said Flamrmock; " and in truth,
as this is a centrical place, and the rounds must pass in
an hour at farthest, I will e'en close my eyes for such a
space, for the lids feel as heavy as flood-gates."
" 0, father, father!" exclaimed Rose, alive to lher
sire's unceremonious neglect of decorum-" think where
you are, and in whose presence!"
"Ay, ay, good Flammock," said the monk, " remnember the presence of a noble Norman maiden is no place
for folding of cloaks and donning of nighteaps."
" Let him alone, father," said Eveline, whlo in anothe'a
moment mighllt have smiled at the readiness with wintch
Wilkin Flamrnock folded himself in his lhuge cloak, extended his substantial form on the stone bencll. and:t ve




96         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
tihe most decided tokens of profound repose, long ere
the monk had done speaking.-" Forms and fashions
of respect," she continued, " are for times of ease and
nicety;-when in danger, the soldier's bed-chamrber is
wherever he can flind leisure for an hour's slee) —his eating-hall, wherever he can obtain food.  Sit thou down
by Rose and me, good father, and tell us of some holy
lesson which may pass away these hours of weariness
and calamity."
The father obeyed; but, however willing to afford
consolation, his ingenuity and theological skill suggested
nothing better than a recitation of the penitentiary psalms,
in which task he continued until fatigue became too powerful for him also, when he committed the same breach
of decorum for which he had upbraided Wilkin Flammock, and fell fast asleep in the midst of his devotions.
CHAPTER IX.
0'  night of woe." she said, and wept,' O0 night foreboding sorrow!
0 night of woe," she said, and wept,
" But more I dread the morrow."
SIR GILBERT ELLIOT.
THE fatigue which had exhausted Flammock and the
monk, was unfelt by the two anxious maidens, who
emained with their eves bent now upon the dim landscape, now on the stars by which it was lighted, as if
they could have read there the events which the morrow
was to bring forth. It was a placid and melancholy scene.
Tree and field, and hill and plain, lay before them  in
domibtfiul light, while, at greater distance, their eve could
with difficulty trace one or two places where thie river
iidden in general by banks and trees, spread its more
expanded bosomi to the stars andl the pale crescen,t. All




TME BEITROTHEI).                 97
was still, excepting the solemn rush of the wate-s, and
now and then the shrill tinkle of a harp, which, heard
fromn more than a mile's distance through the midnight
silence, announced that some of the Welchmen still protracted their most beloved amusement.  The wild notes,
partially heard, seemed like the voice of some passing
spirit; and, connected as they were with ideas of fierce
and unrelenting hostility, thrilled on Eveline's ear, as il
prophetic of war and woe, captivity and death.  The
only. other sounds which disturbed the extreme stillness
of the night, was the occasional step of a sentinel upon
his post, or the hooting of the owls, which seemed to
wail the approaching downfall of the moon-liTht turrets,
in which they had established their ancient habitations.
The calmness of all around seemed to press like a
weight on the bosom  of the unhappy Eveline, and
brought to her mind a deeper sense of present grief, and
keener apprehension of future horrors, than had reigned
there during the bustle, blood, and confusion of the preceding day.  She rose up-she sat down —she moved
to and fro on the platform-she remained fixed like a
statue to a single spot, as if she were trying by variety of
posture to divert her internal sense of fear' and sorrow.
At length, looking at the monk and the Fleming as
they slept soundly under the shade of the battlement, she
could no longer forbear breaking silence.   " Mlen are
happy," she said, " my beloved Rose; their anxious
thoughts are either diverted by toilsome exertion, or
drowned in the insensibility which follows it. They may
encounter wounds and death, but it is we who feel in the
spirit a more keen anguish than the body knows, and in
the gnawing sense of present ill and fear of future misery, suffer a living death, more cruel than that which
ends our woes at once."
" Do not be thus downcast, my noble lady," said
Rose; "be rather what you were yesterday, caring foi
the wounded, for the aged, for every one but yourselfexposing even your dear life among the showers of
VOL. I.




98          TALES OF' THE CRIUSADEUI.
the Welch arrows, when doing so could give courage to
othersl; while I1-shame on me —could but tremble, so.b
and weep, and needed all the little wit I have to prevent
my shouting with the wild cries of the Welch, or screaming and groaning with those of our friiends who fell
aroullnd me. "
" Alas! Rose," answered her mistiress, "you may at
pleasure indulge your fears to the verge of distraction
itself —you have a father to fight and watch for you.
Mine-my kind, noble, and honoured parent, lies dead
on yonder field, and all which remains for me is to act as
may best become his memory.  But, this moment is at
least nine, to think upon and to mourn for him."
So saying, and overpowered by the long-repressed
burst of filial sorrow, she sunk down on the banquette
which ran along the inside of the embattled parapet of
the platform, and murmuring to herself, " He is gone
ogrever!?' abandoned herself to the extremity of grie:
One hand grasped unconsciously the weapon which she
held, and served, at the same time, to prop her forehead,
while the tears, by which she was now for the first time
relieved, flowed in torrents from her eyes, and her sobs
seemed so convulsive, that Rose almost feared her heart
was bursting.   Her affection and sympathy dictated at
once the kindest course which Eveline's condition permitted.  Without attempting to control the torrent of
grief in its fill current, she gently sat her down beside
the mourner, and possessing hlerself of thf hland whLich
had sunk motionless by her side, she alternately piessead
it to her lips, her bosom, and her brow-now covered it
with kisses, now  bedewed it with tears, and amnid these
tokens of the most devoted and humble sympathy, waited a more composed moment to offer her little stock oi
consolatioi; in such deep silence and stillness, that as
the pale light fell upon the two beautiful young women,
it seemed rather to show a group of statuary, the work
of sotne eminent sculptor, than beings whose eyes still
w-ept and whose hearts still throbbed.   At a little disraiice, thle glearing corslet of the Fleling,  and tile dark




''THE K E T.ROtTH E  9
garmellt.s of Father Aldtlovand, as tiley pIy,rostrate on
liJe stone stepS, Inight represent tilt bodies of' those for
whorn the prilciplal figures were mllolllrillg.
After a deep agonriy of niany minutes, it seetmed that
the sorrows of Evelitene were assumilmig a more comniosed character; lher convulsive sobs were ch-anged for lorng,
low, protound siglhs, and the course of her tears, thotigli
tlhev still flowed, was millder andl less violent.  HIer kind'attendant, availing  lerself of thlese gentler sympl)toms,
tried softly to win the st)ear fi'omn her lady's grasp. " Let
nie be sentinel for a while,' she said, " my sweet lady
--  will at least scream louder than you, if any danger
should approach."  Slle ventured to kiss lier cheek and
throw her arms around Eveline's neck while she spoke;
but a mute  caress, which expressed  her sense of the
faithfull girl's kind intentions to minister if possible to ler
repose, was the only answer returned.  They remailned
for many minutes silent and in the same p. ostlure,-Eveline, like.an uprigllt and slender poplar,-Rose, who
encircled her lady in her arms, like the woodbine which
twines around it.
At length Rose studdenly felt her young mistress shiver
in her embrace, and that Eveline's  hand  grasped  her
arm rigidly as shle wllispered, " Do you hear nothing?"' No —nothing but the Jlooting of the owl," answered Rose timorously.
" I heard a clistant sound," said Eveline,-" i. thought
I heard it —hark, it comes again-Look from the battlentlents, Rose, while I awaken the priest and thy father."
" Dearest lady," said:Rose, " 1 dare not —What can
this sound be that is heard by one only?-You are dec',cived by the rush of the river."
" 1 would not alarm  the castle unnecessarily," said
Eveline, pausillg, " or even break your fhther's needful
slumbers, by a fanlcy of mine-But lairk-hark!-1 hiear
it again-distinct amIidst thle interinitting soiiund of the
rushing, water,-a low tremurlous sound, mingled with a
tinkling like smithlr nr armourers at work upon their an
vils."




10)0        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Rose 1h d by this time sprung up on the bantuette, annd
Ilinging back her rich tresses of' fair hair. had applier:
her hand behind her ear to collect the distant sound.
"1 hear it," she cried, " and it increases —Awake them.
for Heaven's sake, and withoult a mornent's delay!"
Eveline accordingly stirred the sleepers with the reversed end of the lance, and as they started to their feet
in haste, she whispered, in a hasty but cautious voice,
"To arms-the Welch are upon us!"
" What —where?" said Wilkin Flamrnock,- " where
be they?"' Listen, and you will hear them arming," she replied.
" The noise is but in thine own fancy, lady," said the
Fleming, whose organs were of the same heavy character with his form and his disposition.  " I would I had
not gone to sleep at all, since I was to be awakened so
S00oon."
"Nay, but listen, good Flammock —the sound of
armour comes from the north-east."
" The Welch lie not in that quarter, lady," said Wilkin, " and, besides, they wear no armour."
" I hear it —l hear it!" said Father Aldrovand, who
had been listening for some time.  " All praise to St.
Benedict!-Our Lady of the Garde Doloureuse has been
gracious to her servants as ever!-It is the tramp of
horse-it is the clash of armour-the chivalry of the
Marches are coming to our relief-Kyrie Eleison!"
" I hear something too," said Flarnmock,-" something like the hollow sound of the great sea, when it burst
into my neighbour Klinkerman's warehouse, and rolled
his pots and pans against each other.  But it were an
evil mistake, father, to take foes for friends-we were
best rouse the people."
" Tush!" said the priest, " talk to me of pots and
kettles?-Was 1 squire of the body to Count Stephen
1Mauleverer for twenty years, and do I not know  the
tramp of a war-horse, or the clash of a mail-coat?. —
But call the men. to the walls at any rate, and have me




THE BETRO rHED.                 101
the best. drawn up in the base-court —we may help them
by a sally."
" T'hat will not be rashly undertaken with my consent,"
nlurmured the Fleming; " but to the wall if you will,
and in good time.  But keep your Normans and English
silernt, Sir Priest, else their unruly and noisy joy will
awaken the Welch camp, and prepare them for their unwelcome visiters."
The monk laid his finger on his lip in sign of intelligence, and they parted in opposite directions, each to
rouse the defenders of the castle, who were soon heard
drawing from all quarters to their posts upon the walls,
with hearts in a very different mood from that in which
they had descended from  them.  The utmost caution
being used to prevent noise, the manning of the walls
was accomplished in silence, and the garrison awaited in
breathless expectation the success of the forces who were
rapidly advancing to their relief.
The character of the sounds, which now loudly awakened the silence of this eventful night, could no longer
be mistaken. They were distinguishable from the rushing of a mighty river, or from the muttering sound of
distant thunder, by the sharp and angry notes which the
clashing of the riders' arms mingled with the deep bass
of the horses' rapid tread.  From the long continuance
of the sounds, their loudness, and the extent of horizon from which they seemed to come, all in the castle
were satisfied that the approaching relief consisted of
several very strong bodies' of horse.l2 At once this rnighty sound ceased, as if the earth on which they trod had
either devoured the armed squadrons, or had become
incapable of resounding to their tramp.  The defenders
of the Garde Doloureuse concluded that their friends
nad made a sudden halt, to give their horses breath, examine the leaguer of the enemy, and settle the order of
the attack upon them.  The pause, however, was but
momentary.
The British, so alert at surprising their (enemies were
VOL. 1.




(102''AIES OF THE CRUSADERS.
tlIermselves, on many occasions, liable to surprise.'1 bTix
men were undisciplined, and somnetimes negligent of the
patient duties of the sentinel; and, besides, their foragers
and flying parties, who scoured the country during the
pireceding day, had brought back tidings which  had
lulled  them  into  fatal security.   Their carmp  had
been  therefore carelessly guarded, and, confidtent in
the smallness of the  garrison, they  had  altogethei
neglected the important military duty of establishing
patrols and outposts at a proper distance from their main
body.  Thus the cavalry of the Lords Marchers, notwithstanding the noise which acompanied their advance,
had approached  very near the Britisll camnp, without
exciting the least alarm.   But while they were arranging their forces into separate columnns, in order to commence the assault, a loud and increasing clamour among
the Welch announced that they were at length aware of
their danger.  The shrill and discordant cries by which
tl-hey endeavoured to assemble their men, each under the
banner of his chief, resounded from their leaguer.  But
these rallying shouts were soon converted into screams
and clamours of horror and dismay, when the thundering
charge of the barbed horses and heavily armed cavalry of
the Anglo-Normans surprised their undefended camp.
Yet not even under circumstances so adverse did the
descendants of the ancient Britons renounce their defence. or forfeit their old hereditary  privilege, to be
called the bravest of mankind.  Their cries of defiance
and resistance were heard resounding above the groans
of the wounded, the shouts of the triumphant assailants
and the universal tumult of the night-battle.  It was no
until the morning light began to peep forth, that the
slaughter or dispersion of Gwenwyn's forces was complete, and that the "C earthquake voice K," victory" arose
in unlcontrolled and unmingled energy of exultation.
Then the besieged, if they could be still so termed,
looking frorm their towers over the expande(d country
beneatil, witnessed nothing but one wide-spread scene
of desultory flighlt and unrelaxed pursuit.  That thle
\Velclh thad been permitted to encaml) iln fatlieed ser:lir;ty




THE BETROT()'HED.                  103
Jpon the hither side of the river. now rendered  thein
discornmfiture iorte drea(fuclfi.iy   tat.    lhe sillnle pass b
x'it'h thev could cross to tilc otiher side was soo0ii corlpieetely choked by fugitives, on whose rear raged the
sYwords of the victorious Normnans.  Many tllrew themteves into the river, up:on tihe precarious chance of
-,tning  l}e  iarthler side, andl, except a  Iew  wh-lo
1'1e.'.c   lncomltonlvly  r,tro;-n,  skiAlfful,  and active, perishe.!. inon:lg tlie rocks aind in. tihe currentts; others more,rz...:: ate, escaped by fords with  which they  had( accid -i.Iv\r been  made  acquainted;  many  dispersed,
(r, in small ban s, fled in reckless despair towards the
castle, as if the fortress, which had beat them off when
victorious, could be a place of refuge to them  in their
present forlorn condition; while others roamed wildly
over the plain, seeking only escape from immediate and
instant danger. without knowing whither they ran.
Thie Normans, meanwhile, divided into small parties.
followed and slaughtered them at pleasure; while, as a
rallying point for the victors, the banner of Hugo de
Lacy streamed friom a small mount, on which Gwenwyn
had lately pitched his own, and surrounded by a competent force, both of infanlry and horsemen, which the
experienced B',srope rermitted on no account to wander
far frnom it.
The rest, as we have already said, followed the chase
with  shouts of exultation  and  of vengeance, ringing
arould the battlements, wlhich resounded with the cries,
"' Ha, Saint Edward!-Ha, St. Dennis!-Strike-slay
-no quarter to the Welch wvolves-think on Raynmond
Berenger!"
Trie soldiers on the walls joined in tlese vengefils and
victorious clamours, and  discharged  several sheaves ol
arrows upon such fugitives, as, in their extremity,  ap-T
proached too near the castle.   They wvould fain have
sallied to give more active assistance in thle work of de-.
struction, bu. the comm-nicatio n being nlow open with the
Constable of Chester's forces, Wilkin Flarm-ock considered himnself and the garrison to be under the orders ol
thlat renlowned  chief, and refused to listen to the eager'67




104        TALES OF THE {CRUSAtIERSo
admonitionis of'Father Aidltrovand, who would, notwitlhstanding his; sacerdotal character, have wi!lingl) himself
takenl charge of the sally which he proposed.
At lelngth the scene of slaughter seemed at an end.
The retreat was blown on many a bugle, and knights halted on the plain to collect their personal followers, muster
tihem  under their proper pennon, and then mnarchftl
them slowly back to the great standard of their leadier,
around which the main body were again to be assembled, like the clouds which gather around the ever;ing
sun-a fanciful simile, which might yet be drawn farther,
in respect of the level rays of strong lurid light which
shot from those dark battalions, as the beams were flung
back from their polished armour.
The plainl was in this manner soon cleared of the
horsemen, and remained only occupied by the dead
bodies of the slaughtered Welchmen.. The bands who
had followed the pursuit to a greater distance were also
now  seen returning, driving before them, or dragging
after them, dejected and unhappy captives, to whom they
had given quarter when their thirst of blood was satiated.
It was then that, desirous to attract the attention of
his liberators, Wilkin Flammock commanded all the
banners of the castle to be displayed, under a general
shout of acclamation from those who had fought under
them.  It was answered by an universal cry of joy from
De Lacy's army, which rung so wide, as might even yet
have startled such of the Welch fugitives, as, far distant
from this disastrous field of flight, might have ventureo
to halt for a moment's repose.
Presently after this greeting had been exchanged, a
single  rider  advanced  from  the Constable's army
towards the castle, showing, even at a distance, an unusual dexterity of horsemanship and grace of deportinent.  He arrived at the drawbridge, which was instantly lowered to  admit him, whilst Flammock and the
monk, (for the latter, as far as he could, associated himself with the former in all acts of authority,) hastened'o receive the envoy of their liberator.  They found ii. i




TILE BETROTHED. 0)
just ali;ghted from the raven-coloured horse, which was
slightly flecked with blood as well as foam, and still
panted with the exertions of the evening; though, answering to the caressing hand of his youthful rider, he
arched his neck, shook his steel caparison, and snorted
to announce his unabated mettle and unwearied love of
combat.  The young man's eagle look bore the same
token of unabated vigour, mingled with the signs of
recent exertion.  His helmet hanging at his saddle-bow,
showed a gallant countenance, coloured highly, but not
inflamed, which looked out from a rich profusion of short
chesnut curls; and although his armour was of a massive
and simple form, he moved under it with such elasticity
and ease, that it seemled a graceful attire, not a burden or
incumbrance.  A furred mantle had not sat on him with
more easy grace than the heavy hauberk which complied with every gesture of his noble form.  Yet his countenance was so juvenile, that only the down on the upper
lip announced decisively the approach to manhood. The
females, who thronged into the court to see the first envoy of their deliverers, could not forbear mixing praises
of his beauty with blessings on his valour; and one comely middle-aged dame, in particular, distinguished by the
tightness with which her scarlet hose sat on- a wellshaped leg and ancle, and by the cleanness of her coif,
pressed close up to the young squire, and, more forward
than the rest, doubled the crilnson hue of his cheek, by
crying aloud, that Our Lady of the Garde Doloureuse
had sent them  news of their redemption  by an angelfirom the sanctuary;  a speech which, although Father
Aldrovand shook his head, was received by her companions with such general acclamation, as greatly embarrass
ed the youmng man's modesty.
"Peace, all of ye!" said Wilkin Flamrmock-"; know
you no respects, you women, or have you never seen a
young gentleman before, that you hang on him like flies
on a honey-comb? Stand aback, I say, and let us hear
in peace what are the commands of the noble Lord ot
Iacy."




*06         TALES OF T''1lE  CRUSAD)ERS.
6, These," said the young man, I 1 can only deliver
in the presence of the right noble demoiselle, Eveline
Berenger, if I may be thought worthy of such honour."
"That thou art, noble sir," said the same forward
dame who had before expressed her admiration so energetically; " I will uphold thee worthy of her presence,
and whatever other grace a lady can do thee."
"Now hold thy tongue, with a wanion," said the
mnonk; while in the same breath the Fleming exclaimed,
"Beware the cuckinlg-stool, Danle Scant-o'-Grace,"
wlhile he conducted the noble youth across the court.
"Let my good horse be cared for," said the cavalier, as lie put the bridle into the hand of a menial; and
in doing so got rid of some part of his female retinue,
who began to pat and praise the steed as much as they
had done the rider; and some, in the enthusiasm  of
their joy, hardly abstained from kissing the 3tirrups and
horse furniture.
But Dame Gillian was not so easily diverted from
her own point as were some of her companions.   She
continued  to repeat the word, cuckicng-stool, till the
Fleming was out of hearing, and then became more
specific in her objurgation. —"' And why cllcking-stool, I
pray, Sir Wilkin Butterfirkin. You are the man would
stop an English mouth with a Flemish damask napkin, I
trow! Marry quep, my cousin the weaver! And why
the cucking-stool, I pray?-because my young lady is
comely, and the young squire is a man of meitle, rev.,
erence to his beard that is to come yet!  Have we not
eyes to see, and have we not a mouth and a tongue?"
" In troth, Dame Gillian, they do you wrong who
doubt it," said Eveline's nurse, who stood by; " but, 1
prithee, keep it shut nov, were it but for womnallhood."
"How now, mannerly Mrs. Margery?" replied the
incorrigible Gillian;  Is your heart so high because
you dandled our young lady on your knee fifteen years
inc1e?-Let me tell you the cat will firnd its way to tle
c:rearn, though it was brought up on arn abbess's lap."




THE  BETROTHEID.                    107
~ Home, housewife-horne!" exclaimed her husharnl,
the old huntsman, who was weary of this public exhibition of his domestic termnagant-" home, or 1 will give
you a taste of my dog-leash-Here are both the confessor and Wilkin Flammock wondering at your impudence.'
" Indeed!" replied Gillian; " and are not two fools
enough for wonderment, that you must come with your
grave pate to make up the number three?"
There was a general laugh at the hunltsnan s expense,
under cover of which he prudently withdrew his spouse,
without attenmpting   to continue the war of tongues, in
which she had shown such a decided superiority.
This controversy, so light is the change in hunman spirits,
especially amiong the lower class, awakened bursts of
idle mirth among beings who had so lately been in the
jaws of danger, if not of absolute despair.
CHAPTER X.
They bore him bare-faced on his bier,
Six proper youths and tall,
And many a tear bedew'd his grave
Within yon kirk-yard Nwall.
7'te Friar of' Of)rers Gray.
WNHILE these matters took place in the castle-yard, the
young squire, Damian Lacy, obtained  the  audience
which he had requested of Eveline Berenger, who received him  in the great hall of the castle, seated beneath the dais, or canopy, and waited upon by Rose.
and other fenmale attendants; of  vholn the first alone
was permitted to use v tabouret, or small stool, in her
presence, so strict were the Norman maidens of quality
in nlaintainino  their claims to hig!lh rank and observance'lThe youth was introd iced b~ the confessor and Flalnock, as the sp!ritlua  c}.arlacter of' tle one.:c th1 




(108        TAI,ES OF TIHrE CRUSADERS.
trust reposed by her late father in the other, authorised
tlem to be present upon the occasion.  Eveline naturally
blushed, as she advaunced two steps to receive the handsome youthiful envoy; and her bashfulness seemed infectious, for it was with some confusion that Damian
went through the ceremony of saluting the hand which
she extended towards him in token of welcome.  Eveline was under the necessity of speaking first.
"c We advance as far as our limits will permit us,'
she said, " to greet with our-thanks the messenger who
brings us tidings of safety.  We speak-unless we err
-to the noble Damian of Lacy?"
"' To the humblest of your servants," answered DaInian, falling with some difficulty into the tone of courtesy which his errand and character required, " who ap..
proaiches you on behalf of his noble uncle, Hugo de Lacy, Constable of Chester."
" Will not our noble deliverer in person honour with
his presence the poor dwelling which lie has saved?"
" My noble kinsman," answered Damian, "is now
God's soldier, and bound by a vow not to come beneath
a roof until he embark for the Holy-Land.  But by my
voice lie congratulates you on the defeat of your savage
enemies, and sends you these tokens that the comrade
and friend of your noble father hath not left his lamentable (leath many hours unavenged."  So saying, be drew
forth and laid before Eveline the gold bracelets, the
coronet, and the Eudorchawg, or chain of linked gold,
which had distinguished the rank of the Welch Prince.13' Gwenwyn hath then fallen?" said Eveline, a natural
shudder combating with the feelings of gratified ven
seance, as she beheld that the trophies were specked with
blood,-" — The slayer of my father is no more!"
" My kinsman's lance transfixed the Briton as he endeavoured to rally his flying people-he died grimly on
tile weapon which had passed more than a fathom through
his body, and exerted his last strength in a furious but
ineffectlual blow with his mace.)"




'1'E  BE;TROTHED.               109
" Heaven is just," said Evellne; " may his sills be
forgiven to the man of blood, since he hath fallen by a
death so bloody!-One question I would ask you. noble
sir. My father's remains-" she paused, unable to
proceed.
" An hour will place them at your disposal, most
honoured lady," replied the squire, in a tone of sympathy
iwhich the sorrows of so young and so fair an orphan
called irresistibly forth.  " Such preparations as time
admitted were making even when I left the host, to transport what was mortal of the noble Berenger from the
field on which we found him, amid a monument of slain
which his own sword had raised. My kinsman's vow
will not allow him to pass your portcullis; but, with your
permission, 1 will represent him, if such be your pleasure, at these honoured obsequies, having clxrge to that
effect."
"My brave and noble father," said Evelinie, making
an effort to restrain her tears, "will be best mourned
by the noble and the brave."  She would have continued, but her voice failed her, and she was obliged to
withdraw abruptly, in order to give vent to her sorrow,
and prepare for the funeral rites with such ceremony
as circumstances should permit. Damian bowed to thE
departing mourner as reverently as he would have done
to a divinity, and taking his horse, returned to his uncle's host, which had encamped hastily on the recent
field of battle.
The sun was now high, and the whole plain presented the appearance of a bustle, equally different from the
solitude of the early morning, and from  the roar and
fury of the subsequent engagement. The news of Hugo de Lacy's victory every where spread abroad with
all the alacrity of triumph, and had induced many of
the inhabitants of the country, who had fled before the
tur3 of the Wolf of Plinlimmon, to return to their desolate habitations. Numbers also of loose and profigate
characters wvhich abound in a country subject to tle fire6 vOL. I




110       TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
quent changes of war, had flocked thither in z:iest ol
spoil, or to gratify a spirit of restless curiosity'.  The
Jew and the ILombard, despising danger where tllere
was a chance of gain, might be already seen bartering
liquors and wares with the victorious men-at-arms, for
the blood-stained ornaments of gold lately worn by the
defeated British. Others acted as brokers betwixt the
Welch captives and their captors; and where they could
trust the means and good faith of the former, sometimes
became bound for, or even advanced in ready money,
the sums necessary for their ransom; whilst a more numerous class became themselves the purchasers of those
prisoners who had no immediate means of settling with
their conquerors.
That the spoil thus acquired might not long encumber the soldier, or blunt his ardour for farther enterprise, the usual means of dissipating military spoils were
already at hand. Courtezans, mimes, jugglers, minstrels,
and tale-tellers of every description, had accompanied
the night-march; and, secure in the military reputation
of the celebrated De Lacy, had rested fearlessly at
some little distance until the battle was fought and won.
These now approached, in many a joyous group, to congratulate the victors. Close to the parties whib:h they
formed for the dance, the song, or the tale, upon the yet
bloody field, the countrymen, summoned in for the purpose, were opening large trenches for depositing the dead
-leeches were seen tending the wounded-priests and
monks confessing those in extremity-soldiers transporting from the field the bodies of the more lhonoured
among the slain-peasants mourning over their trampled
crops and plundered habitations-and widows and orphans searching for the bodies of husbands and parents,
amid the promiscuous carnage of two combats.  Thus
woe mingled her wildest notes with those of jubilee and
bacchanal triumph, and the plain of the Garde Dolour.
euse formed a singular parallel to the varied maze of human life. where joy and grief are so strangely  Inixed,




TIlE  BETROTHlED.                I t.t
and where the confines of mirth and pleasure often
border on those of sorrow andl of death.
About noon these various noises were at once silenced,
and the attention alike of those who rejoiced or who
grieved was arrested by the loud and mournful sound
of six trumpets, which, uplifting and uniting their thrilling tones in a wild and melancholy death-note, apprized all, that the obsequies of the valiant Raymond
Berenger were about to commence.  From  a tent.
which had been hastily pitched for the immediate reception of the body, twelve black monks, the inhabitants
of a neighbouring convent, began to file out in pairs,
headed by their abbot, who bore a large cross, and
thuldered forth the sublime notes of the Catholic Miserere me, Domine. Then came a chosen body of menat-arms, trailing their lances, with their points reversed
and pointed to the earth; and after them the body of the
valiant Berenger, wrapped in his own knightly banner,
which, regained from the hands of the Welch, now served its noble owner instead of a funeral pall. The most
gallant knights of the Constable's household (for, like
other great nobles of that period, he had formed it upon
a scale which approached to that of royalty) walked as
mourners and supporters of the corpse, which was borne
upon lances; and the Constable of Chester himself,
alone and fully armed, excepting the head, followed as
chief mourner.  A chosen body of squires, men-at-arms,
and pages of noble descent, brought up the rear of the
procession; while their nakers and trumpets echoed
back, from  time to time, the melancholy song of the
monks, by replying in a note as lugubrious as their own.
Tile course of pleasure was arrested, and even that
of sorrow was for a moment turned from her own griefs,
to witness the last honours bestowed on him, who had
been in life the father and guardian of his people.
The mournftl procession traversed slowly the plain
which had been within a few hours the scene of such
varied events; and, pausing before the outer gate of the
barricades of the castle, invited, by a prolonged anid




112        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
solemn flourish, the fortress to receive the remains of its
late gallant defender.  The melancholy summons was
answered by the warder's horn-the draw-bridge sunkthe portcullis rose —and Father Aldrovand appeared in
the middle of the gateway, arrayed in his sacerdotal
habit, whilst a little space behind himn stood the orphaned
damsel, in such weeds of mourning as time admitted,
supported by her attendant Rose, and followed by the
females of the household.
The Constable of Chester paused upon the threshold
of the outer gate, and, pointing to the cross signed in
white cloth upon his left shoulder, with a lowly reverence
resigned to his nephew, Damian, the task of attending
the remains of Raymond Berenger to the chapel within
the castle   The soldiers of Hugo de Lacy, most of
whom were bound by the same vow with himself; also halted without the castle gate, and remained under arms,
while the death-peal of the chapel bell announced from
within the progress of the procession.
It winded on through those narrow entrances, which
were skilfully contrived to interrupt the progress of an
enemy, even should he succeed in forcing the outer
gate, and arrived at length in the great court-yard, where
most of the inhabitants of the fortress, and those who,
under recent circumstances, had taken refuge there, were
drawn up, in order to look for the last time on their departed lord.. Among these were mingled a few of the
motley crowd from  without, whom curiosity, or the expectation of a dole, had brought to the castle gate, and
who, by one argument oranother, had obtained from the
warders permission to enter the interior.
The body wa' here set down before the door of the
chapel, the ancient Gothic front of which formed one
side of the court-yard, until certain prayers were recited
by the priests, in which the crowd around were supposed
to join with becoming reverence.
It was during this interval, that a man, whose peaked
beard, embroidered girdle, and high-crowned hat of grey
felt, gave himn the air of a Tlomhard merchalnt, address




THE BETROTH1 D.                 113
ed Margery, the nurse of Eveline, in a whispering tone,
and with a foreign accent — " I am a travelling merchant
good sister, and am come hither in quest of gain-can
$rou tell me whether I can have any custom in this castle?"
"You are come at an evil time, Sir Strangelr-you
may yourself see that this is a place for mourning, and
not for merchandize."
"Yet mourning times have their own commerce,"
said the stranger, approaching still closer to the side of
Margery, and lowering his voice to a tone yet more
confidential.  " 1 have sable scarfs of Persian silkblack bugles, in which a princess might mourn for a deceased monarch-cyprus, such as the east hath seldom
sent forth-black cloth for mourning hangings-all that
may express sorrow and reverence in fashion and attire;
and I know how to be grateful to those who help me to
custom.  Come, bethink you, good dame-such things
must be had-I will sell as good ware and as cheap as
another, and a kirtle to yourself, or, at your pleasure, a
purse with five florins, shall be the meed of your kindness."
"I prithee peace, friend," said Margery, " and choose
a better time for vaunting your wares-you neglect both
place and season; and if you be farther importunate, 1
must speak to those who will show you the outward side
of the castle gate.  I marvel the warders would admit
pedlars upon a day such as this-they would drive a
gainful bargain by the bed-side of their mothr, were she
dying, I trow."   So saying, she turned scornfully from
him.
While thus angrily rejected on the one side, the
merchant felt his cloak receive an intelligent twitch upon
the other, and looking around upon the signal, he saw
a dame, whose black kerchief was affectedly disposed,
so as to give an appearance of solemnity to a set of light
laughing features, which must have been captivating
vwlen young, since they retained so many good points
when at least forty years had passed over them.  She
*winked to the merchant, touching at the same time
VO(L,. 1.




114         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
her under lip with her forefinger, to announce the propriety of silence and secrecy; then gliding from  the
crowd, retreated to a small recess formed by a projecting buttress of the chapel, as if to avoid the pressure
likely to take place at the moment when the bier should
be lifted.  The merchant failed not to follow ner example, and was soon by her side, when she did not give
him  the trouble of opening his affairs, but commenced
the conversation herself.  " I have heard what you said
to our Dame Margery —Mannerly Margery, as I call her
— heard as much at least as led me to guess the rest, for
I have got an eye in my head, I promise you."
" A pair of them, my pretty dame, and as bright as
drops of dew in a May morning."
" Oh, you say so, because I have been weeping,"
said the scarlet-hosed Gillian, for it was even herself who
spoke; "and to be sure, I have good cause, for our lord
was always my very good lord, and would sometimes
chuck me under the chin, and call me buxom Gillian of
Croydon-not that the good gentleman was ever uncivil,
for he would thrust a silver twopennies into my hand at
the same time.-O 0! the friend that I have lost!And I have had anger on his account too-I have seen
old Raoul as sour as vinegar, and fit for no place but the
kennel for a whole day about it; but, as I said to him,
it was not for the like of me to be affronting our master,
and a great baron, about a chuck under the chin, or a
kiss, or such like."
" No wonder you are so sorry for so kind a master
dame," said the merchant.
" No wonder indeed," replied the dame with a sigh;
"and then what is to become of us?-It is like my
young mistress will go to her aunt-or she will marry
one of these Lacy's that they talk so much of-or, at
any rate, she will leave the castle; and it's like old Raoul
and I will be turned to grass with the lord's old chargers.  The Lord knows, they may as well hang him up
with the old hounds, for he is both footless and fangless,
old fit for nothing on earth that I know of."




THE BETROTHIED*                  1 5
" Your young mistress is that lady in the mlourniig,nantle," said the merchant, " who so nearly sunk down
upon the body just now?"
"1In good troth is she, sir-and much cause she has
to sink down.  I am sure she will be to seek for such
another father."
" I see you are a most discerning woman, gossip
Gillian," answered the merchant; " and yonder youth
that supported her is her bridegroom?"
"Much need she has for some one to support her,'
said Gillian; " and so have I for that matter, for what
can poor old rusty Raoul do?"
"But as to your young lady's marriage?" said the
merchant.
" No one knows more, than that such a thing was in
treaty between our late lord and the great Constable of
Chester, that came to-day but just in time to prevent the
Welch from cutting all our throats, and doing the Ijord
knoweth what mischief beside. But there is a marriage
talked of, that is certain-and most folk think it must
be for this smoothed-cheeked boy Damianl, as they call
hirn; for though the Constable has gotten a beard, which
his nephew hath not, it is something too grizzled for a
bridegroom's chin-Besides, he goes to the Holy Warsfittest place for all elderly warriors —I wish he would take
Raoul with him.-But what is all this to what you were
saying about your mourning wares even now? —It is a
sad truth, that my poor lord is gone-But what then?Well-a-day, you know the good old saw,Cloth must we wear,
Eat beef and drlink beer,
Though the dead go to bier.
And for your merchandizing, I am as like to help you
with my good word as MAannerly Margery, provided you
Did fair for it; since, if the lady loves me not so much, I
can tulrn the steward round my finger."
" Take this in part of  our bargain, pretty Mrs.
Gillian," said the merchant; " and when my wains come




116         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS
up, I will consider you amply, if I get good sale b) your
favourable report.-But how shall I get into the castle
again? for I would wish to consult you, being a sensible
wonman, before I come in with my luggage."
"W hy," answered the complaisant dame, "if our
English be on guard, you have only to ask for Gillian, and
they will open the wicket to any single man at once; for
we English stick all together, were it but to spite the
Normans;-but if a Norman be on duty, you must ask
for old Raoul, and say you come to speak of dogs and
hawks for sale, and I warrant you come to speech of me
that way.  If the sentinel be a Fleming, you have but
to say you are a merchant, and he will let you in for the
love of trade."
The merchant repeated his thankful acknowledgment,
glided from her side, and mixed among the spectators,
leaving her to congratulate herself on having gained a
brace of florins by the indulgence of her natural talkative humour; for which, on other occasions, she had
sometimes dearly paid.
The ceasing of the heavy toll of the castle bell now
gave intimation that the noble Raymond Berenger had
been laid in the vault with his fathers.  That part of the
funeral attendants who had come from the host of De
Lacy, now proceeded to the castle hall, where they
partook, but with temperance, of some refreshments,
which were offered as a death-meal; and presently after
left the castle, headed by young Damian, in the same
slow and melancholy form in which they had entered.
The monks remained within the castle to sing repeated
services for the soul of the deceased, and for those of his
faithful men-at-arms who had fallen around him, and who
had been so much mangled during, and after, the contest
with the Welsh, that it was scarce possible to know one
individual firom another; otherwise the brody of Dennis
Morolt would have obtained, as his faith well deserved,
the holours of a separate funeral.'4




THE BETR.O'THED.               I 1
CHAPTER XI.
-The funeral baked meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage table.
Hamlet.
THE religious rites which followed the funeral of
Raymond Berenger endured without interruption for the
period of six days; during which, alms were distributed
to the poor, and relief administered, at the expense of
the Lady Eveline, to all those who had suffered by the
late inroad.  Death-meals, as they were termed, were
also spread in honour of the deceased; but the lady
herself, and most of her attendants, observed a stern
course of vigil discipline and fasts, which appeared to the
Normans a more decorous manner of testifying their
respect for the dead, than the Saxon and Flemish custom
of banquetting and drinking inordinately upon such occasions.
Meanwhile, the Constable De Lacy retained a large
body of his men encamped under the walls of the Garde
Doloureuse, for protection against some new irruption
of the Welch, while with the rest he took advantage of
his victory, and struck terror into the British by many
well-conducted forays, marked with ravages scarcely less
hurtful than their own. Among the enemy, the evils of
discord were added to those of defeat and invasion; for
two distant relations of Gwenwyn contended for the
throne lie had lately occupied, and on this, as on many
other occasions, the Britons suffered as much from internal dissension as from the sword of the Normans. A
worse politician, and a less celebrated soldier, than the
sagacious and successful De Lacy, could not have failed,
under such circumstances, to negotiate as he did an advantageous peace, which, while it deprived Powys of a part of
its frontier, and the command of some i!mportant passes, in




1 I1        TALES OF TILE CRUS.AIDElR.S.
which it was the Constable's purpose to build castles, rendered the Garde Dolouireuse niore secure than formerly:
from  any sudden attack on the part of their fiery and
restless neighbouts.  De Lacy's care also went to reestablishing those settlers who had fled from their possessions, and putting the whole lordship, which now descended upon an unprotected female, into a state of
defence as perfect as its situation on a hostile frontier
could possibly permit.
Whilst thus anxiously provident in the affairs of the
orphan of the Garde Doloureuse, De Lacy, during the
space we have mentioned, sought not to disturb her filial
grief by any personal intercourse   His nephevw, indeed,
was despatched by times every morning to lay before her
his uncle's devoirs, in the high-flown language of the day,
and acquaint her with the steps which he had taken in
her affairs.  As a meed duetohisrelative's high services,
Damian was always admitted to see Eveline on such
occasions, and returned charged with her grateful thanks,
and her implicit acquiescence in whatever the Constable proposed for her consideration.
But when the days of rigid mourning were elapsed,
the young De Lacy stated, on the part of his kinsman,
that his treaty with the Welch being concluded, and all
things in the district arranged as well as circumstances
%would permit, the Constable of Chester now proposed
to return into his own territory, in order to resume his
instant preparations for the Holy-Land, which the duty
of chastising her enemies had for some days interrupted.
"  And twill not the noble Constable, before he departs
from this place," said Eveline, with a burst of gratitude
which the occasion well merited, " receive the personal
thlanks of her, that was ready to perish when he so valiantly came to her aid?"
" It was even on that point that I was commissioned
to speak," replied Darnmian; " but my noble kinsman
feels diffident to propose to you that which he most earncstly desires-the privilege of spealking to your owln




THE BET-ROTHE)D.  119
ear certain matters of high import, and wit. which ha
judges it fit to intrust no third party."
Surely," said the maiden, blushing, " there can be
nought beyond the bounds of maidenhood in my seeing
tile noble Constable whenever such is his pleasure."
" But his vow," replied Damian, " binds my kinsman
not to come beneath a roof until he sets sail for Palestine; and in order to meet him, you must grace him
so far as to visit his pavilion;-a condescension which,
as a knight and Norman noble, he can scarcely ask of a
damsel of high degree."
" And is that all?" said Eveline, who, educated in a
remote situation, was a stranger to some of the nice
points of etiquette which the damsels of the time observed in keeping their state towards the other sex.  " Shall
I not," she said, "go to render my thanks to my deliverer, since he cannot come hither to receive them?
Tell the noble Hugo de Lacy, that, next to my gratitude
to Heaven, it is due to him, and to his brave companions in arms. I will come to his tent as to a holy shrine;
and, could such homage please him, I woulll come barefooted, were the road strewed with flints and with thorns."
" My uncle will be equally honoured and delighted
with your resolve," said Darnian; "b lut it will be his
study to save you all unnecessary trouble, and with that
view a pavilion shall be instantly planted before ycur castle-gate, which, if it please you to grace it with your presence, may be the place for the desired interview."
Eveline readily acquiesced in what was proposed, as
the expedient agreeable to the Constable, and recommended by Damian; but, in the simplicity of her he:art,
she saw no good reason why, under the guardianship of
tl'e latter; she should not instantly, and without farther
form, have traversed the little familiar plain on which,
when a child. she used to chase butterflies and gather
king's-cups, and where of later years she was wont to
exercise her palfrey on this well-known plain, being the
only space, and that of small extent, which separated
her from the camp of the Constable.
I68




120          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
The youthfiul emissary, with whose presence sLe had
now  become familiar, retired to acquaint his kinsmt'an
and lord with the success of his commission, and Eveline experienced the first sensation of anxiety upon her
own account which had agitated her bosom, since t.he defeat and death of Gwenwyn gave her permission to dedicate her thoughts exclusively to grief, for the loss which
she had sustained in the person of her noble father.  B3ut
now, when that grief, though not satiated, was blunted
by solitary indulgence-now that she was to appear before the person of whose fame she had heard so much,
of whose powerful protection  she  had  received  such
recent proofs, her mind insensibly turned'upon the nature and consequences of that important interview.  She
had seen Hugo de Lacy, indeed, at the great tournament at Chester, where his valour and skill were the
theme of every tongue, and she had received the homage which he rendered her beauty when he assigned to
her the prize, with all the gay flutterings of youthfull
vanity; but of his person and figure she had no distinct
idea, excepting that he was a middle-sized man, dressed
in peculiarly rich  armour, and that the countenance
which looked out from  under the shade of his raised
visor, seemed to her juvenile estimate very nearly as old
as that of her father.  This person, of whom  she had
such slight recollection, had been the chosen instrument
employed by her tutelar protectress in rescuinog her frorn
captivity, and in avenging the loss of a father, and she
was bound by her vow to consider himl as tile arbiter of
her fate, if indeed he should deem  it worth his while to
become so.  She wearied lher rnmemorv with vain efforts
to recollect so rmuch of his features as might give her
some means of guessing at his disposition, and her judgmnent toiled in conjecturing what line of conduct he was
likely to pursue towards her.
The great Baron himself seemed to attach to their
meeting a degree of consequence, which was intimated
by the formal preparations wvlich lie made for it.  Eve
line had imagined that he might have ridden to the gate




THE  BETROTHED.                   12]A
of the castle in five minutes, and that, if a pavilion were
actually necessary to the decorum  of their interview, a
tent could have been transferred fiom his leaguer to the
castle-gate, and pitched there in ten minutes more.  But
it was plain that the Constable considered  much more
form and ceremony as essential to their meeting, for in
about half an hour after Damian  de Lacy lhad left the
castle, not fewer tlhan twenty soldiers anid lartificers, un —
der the  direction of a pursuivant, whllose tabard was
decorated  with the armorial bearings of tlhe hese of
Lacy, were employed in erecting before the gate of the
Garde Doloureuse one of those splendid p(vilions, w-hlich
were employed at tournaments and other occasions of
Dublic state.  It was of  pr)ple silk, valanced with gold
em-broidery, having the cords of the sanme rich niaterials.  The door-way was formed by six lantces, the staves
of whichl were plated with silver, and tlle blades composed of the same precious metal.  These were pitched into the ground by couples, and crossed at the top,
so as to form a sort of succession of arches, -whicll were
covered by drapery of sea-green silk, formnilng a pleasing
contrast with the purple and gold.
The interior of the tent Nwas declared by Dame Gillian
and others, whose curiosity induced them  to visit it, to be
of a splendour agreeing with the outside.  Tilere were
orieital carpets, and there were tapestries of Ghent and
Bruges, mIniglede  in gay profuision, while the top of the
pavilion, covered with sky-blue silk, was arrangcd so as
to resemble the firmament, and riclly studded  withl a
Sun, moon, and stars, composed of solid silver.  T his
gorgeous  pavilion had been  nirade for tlhe use of the
celebrated William  of Ypres, lwho acqlire(l suichl great
wealth as general of tile mercenlaries of Kingl Step'hen,
anid  wvas by limn created Earl of Albemarile; but tlhe
chance of war had aissigned it to dle L,atc', aiter one of
lthe d(Ircadtl engagelllellts, so nlnny of  v htillch occtlrred
durinlg tlhe civil wvars betwixt Ste)l-n alil tile Enpll.n' ss
Maude, or Alatilda.   The Constable ihadl ntever beilre
VOL. I.




122         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
been known to use it. for although wealthy and power.
ful, Hugo de Lacy was, on most occasions, plain and unostentatious; which, to those that knew him, made his
present conduct seem  the more remarkable.   At the
hour of noon he arrived, nobly mounted, at the gate of
the castle, and, drawing up a small body of servants,
p)ages, and equerries who attended llim, in their richest
liveries, placed himself at their head, and directed his
nephew to intimate to the Lady of the Garde Doloureuse, that the humblest of her servants awaited the honour of her presence at the castle-gate.
Among the spectators who witnessed his arrival, there
were many who thought that some part of the state and
splendour, attached to his pavilion and his retinue, had
been better applied to set forth the person of the Constable himself, as his attire was simple even to meanness, and his person by no means of such distinguished
bearing as might altogether dispense with the advantages
of dress and ornament.  The opinion became yet more
prevalent, when he descended from  horseback, until
which time his masterly management of the noble animal
he bestrode, gave a dignity to his person and figure,
which he lost upon dismounting forom his steel saddle.
In height, the celebrated Constable scarce attained the
middle size, and his limbs, though strongly built and well
knit, were deficient in grace and ease of movement.
His legs were slightly curved outwards, which gave him
advantage as a horseman, but showed unfavourably when
he was upon foot.  He halted, though very slightly, in
consequence of one of his legs having been broken by
the fall of a charger, and inartificially set by an inexperienced surgeon.  This, also, was a blemish in his deportment; and though his broad shoulders, sinewy arms,
and expanded chest, betokened the strength which he
often displayed, it was strength of a clumsy and ungracefiul character.  His language and gestures were those of
one seldom used to converse with equals, more seldom
still with superiors; short, abrupt, and decisive, almost
to the verge of sternness.  In the judgment of those




TIIE BETROTHED.                 123
who were habitually acquainted with the Constable,
there was both dignity and kindness in his keen eye and
expanded brow; but such as saw him for the first time
judged less favourably, and pretended to discover a
harsh and passionate expression, although they allowed
[his countenance to have, on the whole, a bold and martial character. His age was in reality not more than five
and forty, but the fatigues of war and of climate had
added in appearance ten years to that period of time.
By far the plainest dressed man of his train, he wore
only a short Norman mantle, over the close dress of
shamoy-leather, which, alnost always covered by his armour, was in some places slightly soiled by its pressure.
A brown hat, in which he wore a sprig of rosemary iln
memory of his vow, served for his head-gear-his good
sword and dagger hung at a belt made of sealskin.
Thus accoutred, and at the head of a glittering and
gilded band of retainers, who watched his lightest glance,
the Constable of Chester awaited the arrival of the
Lady Eveline Berenger, at the gate of her castle of
Garde Doloureuse.
The trumpets fiomn within announced her presencethe bridge fell, and led by Damian de Lacy in his gayest
habit, and followed by her train of females, and menial
o)r vassal attendants, she came forth in her loveliness
from under the massive and antique portal of her paternal fortress.  She was dressed withoult ornaments of any
kind, and in deep mourning weeds, as best befitted her
recent loss; forming, in this respect, a strong contrast
with the rich attire of her conductor, whose costly dress
gleamed with jewels and embroidery, while their age and
personal beauty made them in every other respect the
fair counterpart of each other; a circumstance which
probably gave rise to the delighted murmur and buzz
which passed through the bystanders on their appearance, and which only re spect for the deep mourning of
Eveline prevented from breaking out into shouts of apo
plause.




124         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
The instant that the fair foot of Eveline had tmade a
step beyond the palisades which formed the outward barrier of the castle, the Constable de Lacy came forward
to meet her, and bending his right knee to the earth,
craved pardon for the discourtesy which his vow had inmposed on him, while he expressed his sense of the honour
with which she now graced him, as one for which his life,
devoted to her service, would be an inadequate acknowledgment.
The action and speech, though both in consistence
with the romantic gallantry of the times, embarrassed
Eveline  and the rather that this homage was so plublicly
rendered.   She entreated the Constable to stand up,
and not to add to the confusion of one who was already
stfficient]y at a loss how to acquit herself of the heavy
debt of' gratitude whicJl she owed him.  The Constable
arose accordingly, after saluting her hand, which she extended to hlim, and prayed lher, since she was so far
condescending, to deign to enter the poor hut he liad
i)repared for her shelter, and to grant him the honour
of the audience lie had solicited. Eveline, without further answer than a bow, yielded him her hand, and desiring the rest of her train to remain wh lere they were,
commanded the attendance of Rose Flammock.
", Lady," said thle Constable, " the matters of which
I am compelled thus hastily to speak, are of a nature the
most private."
" This maiden," replied Eveline, " is my bowerwvoman, and acquainted with my most inward thoughts;
[ beseech you to permit her presence at our conference."
" It were better otherwise," said Hugo de Lacy, with
some embarrassment; " but your pleasure shall be
obeyed."
He led the Lady Eveline into the tent, and entreated
her to be seated on a large pile of cushions, covered
with rich Venetian silk.  Rose placed herself behind her
mistress, half kneeling upon the same cushions, and
watched the motions of the all-accomplished soldier and
statesman, whom the voice of fame lauded so loudly;




THE BETROTHED.                 125
enjoying his embarrassment as a triumph of her sex,
and scarcely of opinion that his shamoy doublet and
square form accorded with the splendour of the scene,
or the almost angelic beauty of Eveline, the other actor
therein.
" Lady," said the Constable, after some hesitation, " I
would willingly say what it is my lot to tell you, in such
terms as ladies love to listen to, and which surely youi
excellent beauty more especially deserves; but I have
been too long trained in camps and councils to express
my meaning otherwise than simply and plainly."
"I shall the more easily understand you, my lord,"
said Eveline, trembling, though she scarce knew why.
" Aly story, then, must be a blunt one.  Something
there passed between your honourable father and myself,
touching an union of our houses."  He paused, as if he
wished or expected Eveline to say something, but as she
was silent, lie proceeded.  " I would to God, that as he
was at the beginning of this treaty, it had pleased Heaven he should have conducted and concluded it with his
usual wisdom' but what remedy?-he has gone the path
which we must all tread."
"' Your Lordship," said Eveline, "has nobly avenged the death of your. noble friend."
" I have but done my devoir, lady, as a good knight,
in defence of an endangered maiden-a Lord Marcher
in protection of the frontier-and a friend in avenging
his friend.  But to the point.-Our long and noble line
draws near to a close. Of my remote kinsman, Randal
Lacy, I will not speak; for in him I see nothing that is
good or hopeful, nor have we been at one for many
years.  My nephew, Damian, gives hopeful promise to
be a worthy branch of our ancient tree-but he is
scarce twenty years old, and hath a long career of adxenture and peril to encounter, ere he can honourably
Irropose' to himself the duties of domestic privacy or
matrimonial engagements.  His mother also is English,
some abatement perhaps in the escutcheon of his armns
VOL. 1.




i26         TALES OF THE CRUSADERSyet, had ten years more passed over h,mn with the honl
ours of chivalry, I should have proposed Damian de
Lacy for the happiness to which I at present myself
aspire."
"You-you, my lord!-it is impossible!" said Eveline, endeavouring at the same time to suppress all that
co ld be offensive in the surprise which she could not
help exhibiting.
"I do not wonder," replied the Constable, calmly, —
for, the ice being now broken, he resumed the natural
steadiness of his manner and character,-"6 that you express surprise at this daring proposal.  I have not perhaps the form that pleases a lady's eye, and I have forgotten,-that is, if I ever knew them,-the terms and
phrases which please a lady's ear; but, noble Eveline,
the lady of Hugh de Lacy will be one of the foremost
among the matronage of England."
" It will the better become the individual to whom sc
high a dignity is offered," said Eveline, " to consider
how far she is capable of discharging its duties."
" Of that I fear nothing," said De Lacy.  " She who
liath been so excellent a daughter, cannot be less estimable in every other relation in life."
" 1I do not find that confidence in myself, my lord,"
replied the embarrassed maiden, " with which you are
so willing to load me-and I-forgive me-must crave
time for other inquiries, as well as those wllich respect
myself."
" Ilour father, noble lady, had this ulnion warmly at
heart.  This scroll, signed with his own hand, will show
it."  He bent his knee as lie gave the paper.  " The
wife of De Lacy will have, as the daughter of Raymond
Berenger merits, the rank of a princess; his widow, the
dcowery of a queen."'
" Alock me not with. your knee, my lord, while you
plead to me the paternal commands, which, joined to
~ther circumstances-"  She paused, and sighed deepy —" leave me, p.rhaps, but little room for free-will'"




THE BETR0OTHED.                 127
Emloldened by this answer,-De Lacy, who had hitherto remained on his knee, rose gently, and assuming a
seat beside the Lady Eveline, continued to press his
suit,-not indeed in the language of passion, but of a
plain-spoken man, eager y urging a proposal on which
ilis happiness depended.  The vision of the miraculous
image was, it may be supposed, uppermost in the mind
of Eveline, who, tied down by the solemn vow she had
nade on that occasion, felt herself constrained to return
evasive answers, where she might perhaps have given
a direct negative, had her own wishes alone been to decide her reply.
" You cannot," she said, " expect from me, my lord,
in this my so recent orphan state, that I should come to
a speedy determination upon an affair of sulch deep inmportance.  Give me leisure of your nobleness for con
sideration with myself-for consultation with my friends."
"Alas! fair Eveline," said the Baron, " do not be
offended at my urgency.  I cannot long delay setting
forward on a distant and perilous expedition; and the
short time left me for soliciting your favour must be anl
apology for my importunity."
" And is it in these circumstances, noble De Lacy,
that you would encumber yourself with family ties?"
asked the maiden tilidly.
"' I am God's soldier," said the Constable, " and He
in whose cause I fight in Palestine will defend my wife
in England."
" Hear then my present answer, my lord," said
Eveline Berenger, rising from her seat.   "To-morrow
I proceed to the Benedictine nunnery at Gloucester,
where resides my honoured father's sister, who is Abbess
of that reverend house. To her guidance I will coinmit myself in this matter."
" A fair and maidenly resolution," answered De
Lacy, who seemed, on his part, rather glad that the contference was abridged,'" and, as I trust, not altogether
unfavourable to the suit of your humble suppliant, since
the good Lady Abbess hath been long my honoured
frlend."  He then turned to Rose, who was abotlt to at




128        TALES OF THF  CRUSADERS.
tend her lady:-"- Pretty maiden," he said, utfermng a
chain of gold, " let this carcanet encircle thy neck, and
buy thy good-will."
"My good-will cannot be purchased, my lord," said]
Rose, putting back the gift which he proffered.
" Your fair word, then," said the Constable, again
pressing it upon her.' Fair words are easily bought," said Rose, still re-;ectirig the chain, " but they are seldom worth the pur
chase-money."
"Do you scorn my proffer, damsel?" said De Lacy;'it has graced the neck of a Norman count."
" Give it to a Norman countess then, my lord," said
the damsel; " I am plain Rose Flarmmock, the weaver's
daughter. I keep my good word to go with my good-will,
and a latten chain will become me as well as beaten gold."
"Peace, Rose," said her lady; "you are over mala.
pert to talk thlus to the Lord Constable.-And you, my
lord," she continued, " permit me now to depart, since
you are possessed of my answer to your present proposal. I regret it had not been of some less delicate na.ture, that by granting it at once, and without delay, 1
might have shown my sense of your services."
The lady was handed forth by the Constable of
Chester, with the same ceremony which had been observed at their entrance, and she returned to her own
castle, sad and anxious in mind for the event of this important conference.  She gathered closely around her
the great mourning veil, that the alteration of her countenance might not be observed; and, without pausing to
3peak even to Father Aldrovand, she instantly withdrea!o the privacy of her own bower.




THE BETiROTHEID                   129
CHAPTER XII.
Now all ye ladies of fair Scotland,
And iadies of England that happy would prove,
Marry never for houses, nor marry for land,
Nor marry ibr nothing but only love.
Farnily Quavrels.
WHEN the Lady Eveline had retired into her own
private chamber, Rose Flammock followed her unbidden,
and )proffered her assistance in removing tile large veil
which she llad worn while she was abroad; but the lady
refused her permission, saying, " You are forward with
service, maiden, whllen it is not required of you."
"You are displeased with me, lady!" said Rose.
" And  if I am, I lhave cause,"  replied Eveline.
" Yout know my difficulties-you know  what my duty
demands; yet, instead of aiding me to make the sacrifice, you relnder it more difficult."
"' Would -I had influence to guide' your path," said
Rose, " you sllouild find it a smooth one-ay, an honest
and straigllt one,* to boot."
" How mean you, maiden?" said Eveline.
" I would have you," answered Rose,; recall the encouragement-the consent, I may almost call it, you have
yielded to this proit-l Baron.   He is too great to be
loved himsell —too haulighty to love you  as you deserve.  If you wed him, you wed gilded misery, and, it
may be, dishonour as well as discontent."
"Remember, damsel," answered Eveline Berenger,
4" his services towards us."
" His services?" answered Rose.  " He ventured
his life for uLs, indeed, but so did every soldier in his
host.  And am I bound to wed any ruffling blade among
them, because he fought when the trumpet sounded? I
wonder what is the meaning of their devoir, as they call
it, when it shames them not to claim the highest reward.v-onian canl bestow, merely for discharging the duty o,




1,30       TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
a gentleman by a distressed creature.  A  gentleman
said I?-The coarsest boor in Flanders would hardly
expect thanks for doing the duity of a man by women
in such a case."
" But my father's wishes?" said the young lady.
"They had reference, without doubt, to the inclination
of your father's daughter," answered the attendant.  " I
will not do my late noble lord-(may God assoilzie himn!)
-the injustice to suppose he would have urged aught in
this matter which squared not with your free choice."
"' Then my vow-my fatal vow-as I had well nigh
called it," said Eveline.  "May Heaven forgive me my
ingratitude to my patroness!"' Even this shakes me not," said Rose; "I will never
believe our Lady of Mercy would exact such a penalty
for her protection, as to desire me to wed the man I
could not love. She smiled, you say, upon your prayer.
Go-lay at her feet these difficulties which oppress you,
and see if she will not smile again.  Or seek a dispensation from your vow —seek it at the expense of the
half of your estate-seek it at the expense of your
whole property.  Go a pilgrimage barefooted to Rome
-do anything but give your hand where you cannot give
your hleart."
" You speak warmly, Rose," said Eveline, still sighing as she spoke.
"Alas! my sweet lady, I have cause.  Have 1 not
seen a household where love was not-where, although
there was worth and good-will, and enough of the means
of life, all was embittered by regrets, which were not
only vain, but crirrinal?"
" Yet, methinks, Rose, a sense of what is due to our.
selves and to others, may, if listened to, guide and comfort us under such feelings even as thou hast described.'
" It will save us from sin, lady, but not from sorrow,'
answered Rose; "and wherefore should we, with our
eyes open, rush into circumstances where duty must war
with inclination?  Why row against wind and tide, when
you may as easily take advantage of the breeze?"




THE BETROTIHED.                 131
"Because the voyage of my life lies where winds and
currents oppose me," answered Eveline.  "It is my
f'ate, Rose."
" INot unless you make it such by choice," anrswered
ilose.  "0O! could you but have seen the pale cheek,
sunken eye, and dejected bearing of my poor mother!
-I have said too much."
" It was then your mother," said her young lady, " of
whose unhappy wvedlock you have spoken?"
"It was-it was," said Rose, bursting into tears.  " I
h1ave exposed my own shame to save you friom sorrow.
Unhappy she was, though most guiltless-so unhappy,
that tile breach of the dyke, and the inundation in which
she perished, were, but for my sake, to her welcome as
night to tile weary labourer.  She had a heart like
yours, formed to love and be loved; and it would be
doing honour to yonder proud Baron, to say he had
such worth as my- father's. —-et was she most unhappy.
Oh!my sweet lady, be warned, and break off this illomened match!"
Eveline returned the pressure with which the affectionate girl, as she clung to her hand, enforced her wellmneant advice, and then muttered, with a priofound sigh,
- " Rose, it is too late."
"Never —never," said Rose, looking eagerly round
the room.  " Where are those writing materials?-Let
me bring Father Aldrovand, and instruct him of your
pleasure-or, stay, the good father hath himself an eye
on the splendours of the world which he thinks he has
abandoned-lie will be no safe secretary.-I will go myself to the Lord Constable-me his rank cannot dazzle,
or his wealth bribe, or his power overawe.  I will tell
him  he doth no knightly part towards you, to press
his contract with your father in such an hour of helpless
sorrow-no pious part, in delaying the execution of his
vows for the purpose of marrying or giving in marriage
— no honest part, to press himself on a maiden whose
heart has not decided in his favour-no wise part, to




1 32 LTALES OF THE CRUSADERSB
marry one whom he must presently abandon, either tc
solitude, or to tile dangers of a profligate court."
"You have not clourage for such an embassy, Rose,"
said her mistress, sadly smiling through her tears at her
youtlhful attendant's zeal.
"Not courage for it!-and wherefore not?-Try
me," answered the Flemish maiden, in return.  " I am
neither Saracen nor Welchman-his lance anrd sworA
scare me not.   I follow not his banner-his voice ol
commlland concerns me not.  I could, with your leave,
boldly tell him  he is a selfish man, veiling with fair and
lionourable pretexts his pursuit of objects which concern his own pride and gratification, and founding high
claims on having rendered tile services which common
humanity demanded.  And all for wlhat?-Forsooth the
great De Lacy must have an heir to his noble house, and
hIis fair nephew is not good enough to be his representative, because his mother was of Anglo-Saxon strain, and
the real heir must be pure unmixed Norman; and for
this, Lady Eveline Berenger, in the first bloom of youth,
must be wedded to a man who might be her father, and
wvho, after leaving  her unprotected for years, ewill return
iii such guise as migllt beseem her grandlhtler!"
"Since lie is thtus scrupulous concerning purity of
lineage," said Eveline, " perhaps he may call to mind
wvhat so,ood a herald as he is cannot fail to know —that
I am of Saxon strain by my father's mother."
"IOh!" replied Rose, "h le will forgive that blot in
the heiress of the Garde Doloureuse."
" Fie, Rose," answered her mistress, "thou dost him
wr01on1 in taxing him with avarice."
l'erl]lps so," answered Rose; " but lie is undeniably ambitious; and Avarice, I have heard, is Ambition's
Ltstard brotller, tliough Amlbition be soIne'timnles ashamed
of tile relationship.''
" You sp)eak too boldly, damsel," said Eveline; " and,
nwhile I acknowmledge yoiur aflection, it becomnes lme to
lheck your mode of expression."




THE BETROTHED.                 133
"Nay, take that tone, and I have done," said Rose
— " To Eveline, whom I love, and who loves me, I can
speak freely —but to the Lady of the Garde Doloureuse,
the proud Norman damsel, (which when you choose to
be you can be,) I can curtsy as low as my station demands, and speak as little truth as she cares to hear"
" Thou art a wild but a kind girl," said Evel;ne;
" no one who did not know thee would think that soft
and childish exterior covered such a soul of fire.  Thy
mother must indeed have been the being of feeling and
passion you paint her; for thy father-nay, nay, never
arm in his defence until he be attacked-I only meant
to say, that his solid sense and sound judgment are his
most distinguished qualities."
" And I would you would avail yourself of them
lady," said Rose.
" In fitting things I will; but he were rather an unmeet
counsellor in that which we now treat of," said Eveline.
"You mistake him," answered Rose Flaminock, " and
underrate his value.  Sound judgment is like to tne
graduated measuring-wand, which, though usually appned only to coarser cloths, will give with equal truthl the
dimensions of Indian silk, or of cloth of gold."
"' Well —well-this affair presses not instantly at least,"
said the young lady.  " Leave me now, Rose, and send
Gillian the tirewoman hither-I have directions to give
about the packing and removal of my wardrobe."
"That Gillian, the tire-woman, hath been a mighlty
favourite of late," said Rose; "time was when it was
otherwise."
" I like her manners as little as thou dost,"  said
Eveline; "l but she is old Raoul's wife-she was a sort
of half-favourite with my dear father-who, like othel
men, was perhaps taken by that very freedom which we
think unseemly in persons of our sex; and then, there
is no other woman in the castle that hath such skill in
empacketing clothes without the risk of their being injured."
7 veoi,. i.




t34         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
" That last reason alone," said Robe, snullag, "is, I
admit, an irresistible pretension to favour, and Dame Gil
lian shall presently attend you.-But take my advice
lady-keep her to her bales, and her mails, and let her
not prate to you on what concerns her not."
So saying, Rose left the apartment, and her young
lady looked after her in silence-then murmured to herself-" Rose loves me truly; but she would  willingly
be more of the Mistress than the maiden; and then she
is somewhat jealous of every other person that approaches me.-It is strange, that I have not seen Damian de Lacy since my interview  with the Constable.
He anticipates, I suppose, the chance of his finding in!ne a severe aunt!"
But tile domestics, who crowded for orders with reference
to her removal early on the morrow, began now to divert
the current of their lady's thouights from  tile consideration of her own particular situation, which, as the Drospect presented notlling pleasant, with the elastic spirit of
youth, she willingly postponed till farther leisure.
CHAPTER Xlii.
Too much rest is rust,
Th'lere's ever cheer in changing;
We tyne by too much trust,
So we'll be up and ranging.
Old Sonr
EARLY on the subsequent morning, a gallant company, saddened indeed by the deep mourning which their
principals wore, left the well-defended Castle of the
Gardle Dolourelse, wlicll had been so lately thl- scene
af slsuch remarkable events.
The sun wvas jutst beginning to exhale the heavy dews;rhich had fallen during the night, and to disperse the




TIEI  Be TIIOTIEDe.               [3b
thin g-rey nlist whiclh eddied around towers anJi battlements, whlen Wilkin IF'larnmock, with six cross-bow men
on horseback, and as many spearmen on foot, sallied
forth fioln under the Gothic gate-way, and crossed the
sournding draw-bridge. After this advanced guard, came
four household servants well mounted, and after them,
as many inferior female attendants all in mourning. Then
rode forth  the young Lady Eveline herself;, occupying
the centre of the little procession, and her long black
robes formed a striking contrast to the colour of her
milk-white palfirey.  Beside her, on a Spanish jennet,
the gift of her affectionate father,-who had )procured it
at a high rate, and who would have given half his substance to gtratify his daughter,-sat the girlish form of
Rose Flammock, who hlad so much of juvenile shyness
in her manner, so much of feeling and of judgment in her
tihotghts and actions.  Dame Margery followed, mixed
in the party escorted by Father Aldrovand, whose company she chiefly frequented; for Margery affected a
little the cllaracter of the devotee, and her influence in
the family, as having been Eveline's nurse, was so great
as to reinder her no improper companion for the chaplain, when her lady did not require her attendance on
her own person.   Then came old Raoul the huntsman,
his wife, and two or three other officers of Raymond
Berenger's househlold; the steward, with  his golden
chain, velvet cassock, and white wand, bringing up the
rear, which was closed by a small band of archers, and
four men-at-arms.  The guards, and indeed the greater
part of the attendants, were only designed to give the
necessary degree of honour to the young lady's movements, by accompanying her a short space  from the
castle, where they were met by thle Constable of Clhester, who, with a retinue of thirty lances, proposed nimself to escort Eveline as far as Gloucester, the place
of her destination.  Under his protection no datnger was
to be apprehended, even if the severe defeat so lat:ely
sustained b) the Welsh had not of' itself beep likely
to prevent any attempt, on the part of t'iose hostile
769'




136         TALES OF THE CRUSADERtS.
mountaineers, to disturb the safety of the marches for
somie time to come.
Ini pursuance of this arrangement, which permitted the
armed part of Eveline's retinue to return for the protection of the castle, and the restoration of order in the
district around, the Constable awaited her at the fatal
bridge, at the head of the gallant band of selected horsemen whom he had ordered to attend upon him.  The
parties halted, as if to salute each other; but the Constable, observing that Eveline drew her veil more closely
around her, and recollecting the loss she had so lately
sustained on that luckless spot, had the judgment to confine his greeting to a mute reverence, so low that the
lofty plume which he wore, (for he was now  in complete
armour,) mingled with the flowing mane of his gallant
horse.  WVilkin Flammock next halted, to ask the lady
if she had any farther commands.
None, good Wilkin," said Eveline; "but to be, as
ever, true and watchful."
" The properties of a good mastiff," said Flammock.
"Some rude sagacity, and a stout hand instead of a sharp
case of teeth, are all that I can claim to be added to
them-I will do my best.-Fare thee well, Roschen!
Thou art going among strangers-forget not the qualities
which made thee loved at home.  The saints bless thee
-farewell!"
The steward next approached to take his leave, but in
doing so, had nearly met with a fatal accident.  It had
been the pleasure of Raoul, who was in his own disposition cross-grained, and in person rheumatic, to accommodate himself with an old Arab horse, which had been kept
for the sake of the breed, as lean, and almost as lame as
himself, and with a ternper as vicious as that of a fiend.
Betwixt the rider and the horse, was a constant inisunderstanding, testified on Raoul's part by oaths, rough checks
with the curb, and severe digging with the spurs, which
Mahound, (so paganishly was the horse named) answered
oy tlunging, bounding, and endeavouring by all eypedients to unseat his rider, as well as striking and lashing out




TILE BETROTHI V.                137
t~riously at whatever else approached him.  It was
thought by many of the household, that Raoul preferred this vicious, cross-tempered animal upon all occasions when he travelled in company with his wife, in order to take advantage by the chance, that amongst the
various kiclks, plunges, garnbades, lashlings out, and other
eccentricities of Mahound, his heels might come in
contact with Dame Gillian's ribs.  And now, when as
the important steward spurred up his palfrey to kiss his
young lady's hand, and to take his leave, it seemed to
the bystanders as if Raoul so managed his bridle and
spur, that Mahounrd yerked out his hoofs at the same
moment, one of which coining in contact with the steward's thigh, would have splintered it like a rotten reed,
had the parties been a couple of inches nearer to each
other.  As it was, the steward sustained considerable
damage; and they that observed the grin upon Raoul's
vinegar countenance entertained little doubt, that Mahound's heels then and there avenged certain nods,
winks, and wreathed smiles, which had passed betwixt
the gold-chained functionary and the coquettish tirewoman since the party left the castle.
This incident abridged the painfuil solemnity of parting betwixt the Lady Eveline and her dependants, and
lessened at the same time the formality of her meeting
with the Constable, and, as it were, resigning herself to
his protection.
Hugo de Lacy, having commanded six of his inenat-arms to proceed as an advanced-guard, remained himlself to see the steward properly deposited on a litter,
and then with the rest of his followers, marchetl in military fashion about one hundred yards in the rear of
Lady Eveline and her retinue, judiciously forbearing to
present himself to her society while she was engaged
in the orisons which the place where they met lalmurally
suggested, and waiting patiently until the elasticity of
youthful temper should require some diversion of tle
gloomy thoughts which the scene inspired.
VOL. I.




1383        TALES OF TIHE CRUSADERS.
Guided by this policy, the Constable d(lid not ap.
proachl the ladies until the advance of the morning rendered it politeness to remind them, that a pleasant spot
fotr breakin  their fast occurred in the neiglborllhod,
where he had ventured to make some preparations for
rest and refreshment.  Immediately after tile Lady Eve -
line had intimated her acceptance of this courtesy, thley
I'rme in sight of the spot he alluded to, marked by an ancient oak, which, spreading its broad branches far and
wide, reminded the traveller of that of Malure, under
which celestial beings accepted the hospitality of the
patriarch.  Across two of these huge projecting arms
was flung a piece of rose-coloured sarsnet, as a canopy to
keep off the morning beams which were already rising
high.  Cushions of silk, interchanged with others covered with the furs of animals of the chase, were arranged
round a repast, which a Norman cook had done his utmost to distinguish, by the superior delicacy of his art,
from the gross meals of the Saxons, and the penurious
simplicity of the Welch tables.  A fountain, which bubbled from under a large mossy stone at some distance,
refreshed the ear with its sound, and the taste with its
liquid crystal; while, at the same time, it formed a cistern for cooling two or three flasks of Gascon wine and
hippocras, which were at that time the necessary accompaniments of the morning meal.
When Eveline, with Rose, the Confessor, and at some
farther distance her faithful nurse, was seated at this sylvan banquet, the leaves rustling to a gentle breeze, the
water bubbling in the back-ground, the birds twittering
around, while the half-heard sounds of conversation and
laughter at a distance announced that their guard was in
their vicinity, she could not avoid making the Constable
some natural compliment on his happy selection of a
place of repose.
" You do me more than justice," replied the Baron;'the spot was selected by my nephew, who hath u
lancy like a minstrel.  Myself am but slow in imagin
ing sl:ch de.vices."




THE BETROTHEO.                   1 39
lRose looked full at her mistress, as if she endleav.
oured to look into her very inmost soul; but Eveline
answerel Nwithl the utmost simplicity,-" And whllerefore
biath not the noble Damian waited to join us at the entertainment which he hath directed?"
i He prefers riding onward," said the Baron, " with
some light-l-orsemen; for, notwithstanding there are
now  no Welch knaves stirring, yet tile  marches are
never free fiom robbers and outlaws; and though there
is nothing to fear for a band like ours, yet you should
not be alarmed even by the approach of danger."
"' I have indeed seen but too  much of it lately,"
said Eveline; and relapsed into the melancholy mood
from which the novelty of the scene had for a moment
awakened her.
Meanwhile, the Constable, removing, with the assistance of his squire, his mailed hood and his steel crest,
as well as his gauntlets, remained in his flexible coatof-mail, composed entirely of rings of steel curiously
interwoven, his hands bare, and his brows covered with
a velvet bonnet of a peculiar fashion, appropriated to the
use of knights, and called a mortier, which permitted
him both to converse and to eat more easily than when
he wore the full defensive armour.  His discourse was
plain, sensible, and manly; and, turning upon the state
of the country, and the precautions to be obserxed for
governing and defending so disorderly a frontier, it became gradually interesting  to Eveline, one of whlose
warmest wishes was to be the protectress of her father's
vassals.  De Lacy, on his part, seemed much pleased;
for young as Eveline was, her questions showed intelligence, and her mode of answering, both appreiension
and docility.  In short, familiarity was so far established
betwixt them, that in the next stage of their journey the
Constable seemed to tlhink his appropriate place was at
the Lady Eveline's bridle-rein; and altiough she certainiy did not counteince hlis attendance, yet neither did
she seem willing to  iscourage it.   Hi inself no ardent
lover, altloillgh captivated both with the beauty and the




f40         TALES OF THE CRUSADER.S
anliable qualities of the fair orpha. De Lacy was sattsfied with being endured as a companion, and made no
eflorts to improve the opportunity which this familiarity
afiorded him, by recurring to any of the topics of the
preceding day.
A halt was made at noon in a small village, where
the same purveyor lhad made preparations for their accommodation, and particularly for that of the Lady Eveline; but, something to her surprise, lhe himself remained  invisible.  The  conversation of the Constable of
Chester was doubtless in the highest degree instructive;
but at Eveline's years, a maiden might be excused for
wishing some addition to the society in the person of
a younger and less serious attendant; and when she
recollected the regularity with which Damian Lacy had
hitherto made his respects to her, she rather wondered
at his continued absence.  But her reflection went no
deeper than the passing thought of one who wasnotquite
so much delighted with her present company, as not to believe it capable of an agreeable addition.  She was lending a patient ear to the account which the Constable
gave her of the descent and pedigree of a gallant knight
of the distinguished family of Herbert, at whose castle
he purposed to repose during the night, when one of the
retinue announced a messenger from the Lady of Baldringham.
"' My honoured father's aunt," said Eveline, arising
to testify that respect for age and relationship which the
manners of the time required.
"I knew not," said the Constable, "' that my gallant
firiend had such a relative."
" She was my grandmother's sister," answered Eveline, " a noble Saxon lady; but she disliked the match
formed wVith a Norman house, and never saw her sistei
dfter the period of her inarriage.'
She broke off, as the messenger, who had the appearance of the steward of a person of consequence, entered their presence, and bending his lnee reverently
MelN ered a letter, which, being examine6 by Father A.




THIE BETROTHE}).                4 1
drovand, was found to contain the followi g invitation,
expressed not in French, then the general language oi
communication amongst the gentry, but in the old Saxon
language, modified as it now was by some intermixture
of French.
"If the grand-daughter of Aelfreid of Baldringham
hath so much of the old Saxon strain as to desire to
see an ancient relation, who still dwells in the house oi
her forefathers, and lives after their manner, she is thus
invited to repose for the night in the dwelling of Ermengarde of Baldringham."
" Your pleasure will be, doubtless, to decline the present hospitality?" said the Constable de Lacy; " the noble
Herbert expects us, and has made great preparation."
" Your presence, my lord," said Eveline, " will more
than console him for my absence. It is fitting and proper
that I should meet my aunt's advances to reconciliation,
since she has condescended to make them."
De Lacy's brow was slightly clouded, for seldom had
he met with anything approaching to contradiction of
his pleasure.  "I pray you to reflect, Lady Eveline,"
he said, " that your aunt's house is probably defenceless, or at least very imperfectly guarded —Would it not
be rour pleasure that I should continue my dutiful attendance?"
"Of that, my lord, mine aunt can, in her own house,
be the sole judge; and methinks, as she has not deemed it necessary to request the honour of your lordship's
company, it were unbecoming in me to permit yot to
take. the trouble of attendance;-you have already had
but too much on my account."
" But for the sake of your own safety, madam,"
said De Lacy, unwilling to leave his charge.
"My safety, my lord, cannot be endangered in the
house of so near a relative: whatever precautions she
may take on her own behalf, will doubtless be anlply
suticient for mine."
"' I hope it will be found so," said De Lacy; -' and 1
will at least add to them the security of a patrol wround




142         TALES OF TILE CRUSA.DERS.
the castle during your abode in it."   He stopped, alad
then proceeded wvith some hesitation to express his hope,
that Eveline, now about to visit a kinswoman whose preiudices against the Norman race were generally known,
would be on her guard against what she miglt hear upcn that subject.
Eveline answered with dignity, that the daughter of
Raymond Berenger was unlikely to listen to any opinions
which would affect the dignity of that good knight's nation and descent; and with this assurance, the Constable,
finding it impossible to obtain any which had more special
reference to himself and his suit, was compelled to remain satisfied.  He recollected also that the Castle of
Herbert was within two miles of the habitation of tile
Lady of Baldringham, and that his separation fiom Eveline was but for one night; yet a sense of the difference
betwixt their years, and perhaps of his own deficiency
in those lighter qualifications by which the female heart
is supposed to be most frequently won, rendered even
this temporary absence matter of anxious thought and
apprehension; so that, during their afternoon journey,
he rode in silence by Eveline's side, rather meditating
what might chance to-morrow, than endeavouring to avail
himself of present opportunity.  In  this unsocial maniier they travelled on until the point was reached where
they were to separate for the evening.
This was an elevated spot, from which they could see,
on the right hand, the Castle of Amelot Herbert, rising
high upon an erninence, with all its Gothic pinnacles and
turrets; and on the left, low-embowered amongst oaken
woods, the rude and lonely dwelling in which the Lady
of Baldringliam still maintained the customs of the Anglo-Saxons, and looked with contempt and hatred on all
innovations that had been introduced since the battle of
[astings.
Here the Constable De Lacy, having charged a part:f his men to attend the Lady Eveline to the house of
her relation, and to keep watch around it with the utmost
~igilance hut at such a distance as might not give offe uce




TIHE  BETROTH0ED.                143
or inconvenience to thle family, kissed her hand, and took
a reluctant leave.   Eveline proceeded onwards by a
path so little trodden, as to show the solitary condition
of the mansin to which it led.  Large kine, of an uncommon and valuable breed, were feeding in the rich
pastures arounld; and now and then fallow deer, which
appeared to have lost the shyness of their nature, tripped
across the glades of the woodland, or stood and lay in
small groups under some greatoak.  The transient pleasure which such a scene of rural quiet was calculated to
afford, changed to more serious feelings, when a sudden
turn brought her at once in front of the mansion-house,
of which she had seen nothing since she first beheld it
from the point where she parted with the Constable, and
which she had more than one reason fbr regarding with
some apprehension.
The house, for it could not be termed a castle, was
only two stories high, low and massively built, with doors
and windows forming the heavy round arch which is
usually called Saxon;-the walls were mantled with various creeping plants, which had crept along them  undisturbed-grass grew up to the very threshold, at which
hung a buffaloe's hiorn, suspended by a brass chain.  A
massive door of black oak closed a gate, which much resembled the ancient entrance of a ruined sepulchre, and
not a soul appeared to acknowledge or greet their arrival.
" Were I you, my Lady Eveline,"'aid the officious
dame Gillian, " I would turn bridle yet; for this old
dungeon seems little likely to afford food or shelter to
Christian folks."
Eveline imposed silence on her indiscreet attendant,
though herself exchanging a look with Rose whiclh confessed something like timidity, as she commanded Raoul
to blow the horn at the gate.  "' I have heard," she
said, " that my aunt loves the ancient customs so well,
that she is loath to admlit into her halls anything younger
than tile time of Edward the Confessor."
Raoul, in the meantime, cursing the rude instrunlent
vlinch baffled his skill in sounding a regular ca1ll, and




14 4        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS,
aive vogiue only to a tremendous and discordant rear,
which seemed to shake the old walls, thick as they were,
repeated his summons three times before they obtained
admittance.  On the third sounding, the gate opened,
and a numerous retinue of servants of both sexes appeared in the dark and narrow hall, at the upper end of
which a great fire of wood was sending its furnace-blast
up an antique chimney, whose front, as extensive as that
of a modern kitchen, was. carved over with ornaments
of massive stone, and garnished on the top with a long
range of niches, from each of which frowned the image
of some Saxon Saint, whose barbarous name was scarce
to be found in the Romish calendar.
The same officer who had brought the invitation from
his lady to Eveline, now stepped forward, as she supposed, to assist her from her palfrey; but it was in reality to lead it by the bridle-rein into the paved hall itself.
and up to a raised platform, or dais, at the upper end
of which she was at length permitted to dismount.  Two
matrons of advanced years, and four young women of
gentle birth, educated by the bounty of Ermengarde,
attended with reverence the arrival of her kinswoman.
Eveline would have inquired of them for her grand-aunt,
but the matrons rwith much respect laid their fingers on
their mouths, as if to enjoin her silence; a gesture which,
united to the singularity of her reception in other respects, still further excited her curiosity to see her venerable relative.
It was soon gratified; for, through a pair of foldingdoors which opened not far from the platform  on which
he stood, she was ushered into a large low apartment
hung wvith arras; at the upper end of which, under a
species of canopy, was seated the ancient Lady of
Baldringham.  Fourscore years had not quenched the
brightness of her eyes, or bent an inch of her stately
height; her grey hair was still so profuse as to form a
tier, combined as it was with a chaplet of ivy leaves;
hier long dark-coloured gown fell in ample folds, and the
1iroidereOd girdle, which gathered it around her, was fast



THE BETROTHED.                 1-45
ened by a buckle of gold, studded with precious stones,
which were worth an Earl's ransom; her features, which
had once been beautiful, or rather majestic, bore still,
though faded and wrinkled, an air of melancholy and
stern grandeur, that assorted well with her garb and deportment.  She had a staff of ebony in her hand; at
her feet rested a large aged wolf-dog, who pricked his
ears and bristled up his neck, as the step of a stranger,
a sound so seldom heard in those halls, approached the
chair in which his aged mistress sat motionless.
" Peace, Thryme," said the venerable dame; " and
thou, daughter of the house of Baldringham, approach,
and fear not their ancient servant."
The hound sunk down to his couchant posture when she
spoke, and, excepting the red glare of his eyes, might
have seemed a hieroglyphical emblem, lying at the feet
of some ancient priestess of Woden, or Freya; so strongly (lid the appearance of Ermengarde, with her rod and
her chaplet, correspond with the ideas of the days of
Paganism.  Yet he who had thus deemed of her would
have done therein much injustice to a venerable Christian matron, who had given many a hide of land to holy
church, in honour of God and Saint Dunstan.
Ermengarde's reception of Eveline was of the same
antiquated and formal cast with her mansion and her exterior.  She did not at first arise from  her seat when
the noble maiden approached her, nor did she even admit her to the salute which she advanced to offer; but,
laying her hand on Eveline's arm, stopped her as she advanced, and perused her countenance with an earnest and
unsparing eye of minute observation.
" Berwine," she said to the most favoured of the two
attendants,   our niece hath the skin and eyes of the Saxon hue; but the hue of her eyebrows and hair is from
the foreigner and alien.-Thou art, nevertheless, welcome to my house, maiden," she added, addressing Eveline,:' especially if thou canst bear to hear that tllu art
vOL I.




1406        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
not albsolutely a perfect creature, as doubtless these flat'erers around thee have taulght thee to believe."
So saying, she at'length arose, and saluted her niece
with a kiss on the forehead.  She released lher not, however, from lher grasp, but proceeded to give the attention
to her garments which she had hitherto bestowed upon
her features.
"' Saint Dunstan keep us from vanity!" she said; " and
so this is the new guise-and modest maidens wear such
tunics as tlhese, showing the shape of their persons as
plain as if (Saint Mary defend us!) they were altogether
without garments! And see, Berwine, these gauds on
the neck, and that neck itself uncovered as low as the
shoulder-these be tlle guises which  strangers have
broughtllt into merry England! and this pouch, like a
player's placket, hath but little to do with housewifery,
I wot; and that dagger, too, like a glee-man's wife, that
rides a mumming in masculine apparel-dost thou ever
bo to the wars, maiden, that thou wearest steel at thy
girdle?"
Eveline, equally surprised and disobliged by the depreciating  catalogue of her apparel, replied to the last
question with some spirit,-" The mode may have altered, mrn;dam; but I onlly wear such garments as are now
worn by those of my age and condition.  For the poniard, may it please you, it is not many days since I regarded it as the last resource betwixt me and dishonour."
"The maiden speaks well and boldly, Berwine," said
Dame Ermengarde; "and, in truth, pass we but over
some of these vain fripperies, is attired in a comely fashion.  Thy father, I hear, fell knight-like in the field of
battle."
" Ile did so," answered Eveline, her eyes filling with
tears at the recollection of her recent loss.
"I never saw him," continued Dame Ermengarde;
" he carried the old Norman scorn towards the Sax:on
st(ck, whom  they wed but for what they can malke by
tliem, as the bramble clings to the elm;-nay, never seek
t,) vindicate him," she continued, observing that Eveine




THE BETItOTHED,                  147
was about to speak, " I have known tile Norman spirit for
many a year ere thou wert born."
At this moment the steward appeared in the chamber
and, after along genuflection, asked his lady's pleasiiire
concerning the guard of Norman soldiers who remained
without the mansion.
Norman soldiers so near the house of Baldringham!"
said the old lady, fiercely; " who brings them rhither,
and for what purpose?"'llhey came, as I think," said the sewer, " ta, wait
on and guard this gracious young lady."
" What, my daughter," said Ermengarde, in a tone
of melancholy reproach,'" darest thou not trust thysell
unguarded for one night in the castle of thy forefathllers?"
" God forbid else!" said Eveline.  " But these lnen
are not mine, nor under my authority.  They are part
of the train of the Constable De Lacy, who left them
to watch around the castle, thinking there mliight be daneger firom robbers."
R obbers," said Ermengarde, " have never harmed
the house of Baldringham,   since a Norman robber stole
from it its best treasure in the person of thy grandmother.-And so, poor bird, thou art already captive-unhappy flutterer! But it is thy lot, and wherefore should
1 wonlder or repine? When was there fair maiden with
a wealthy dower, but she was ere maturity destined to
be the slave of some of those petty kings, who allow us
to call nothing ours that their passions can covet?  Well
-I cannot aid thee-I am  but a poor and neglected
womran, feeble both from  sex and age. —And to which
of these De Lacys art thou the destined household
drude?"
A question so asked, and by one whose prejudices
were of such a determined character, was not likely to
draw fiorn Eveline any confession of the real circumstances in which she was placed, since it was but too
plain her Saxon relation could have afforded her neither
sound counsel nor useful assistance.  She replied therefore briefly, that as the Lacys, and the Normans in gen



148        TALES OF TI-IE CRUSADERS.
eral, were unwelcome to her kinswoman, sne would
entreat of the commander of the patrol to withdraw it
ftom the neighbourhood of Baldringharn.
"Not so, my niece," said the old lady; " as we cannot escape the Norman neighbourhood, or get beyond
the sound of their curfew, it signifies not whether they
be neai our walls or more far off, so that they enter them
not.-And, Berwine, bid Hundwolf drench the Normans
with liquor, and gorge them with food-food of the best,
and liquor of the strongest.  Let them not say the old
Saxon hag is churlish of her hospitality.  Broach a piece
of wine, for I warrant their gentle stomachs brook no ale."
Berwine, her huge bunch of keys jangling at her girdle,
withdrew to give the necessary directions, and presently
returned..Meanwhile Ermengarde proceeded to question her niece more closely.  "Is it that thou wilt not,
or canst not, tell me to which of the De Lacys tihou
art to be bondswoman?-to the overweening Constable,
who, sheathed in impenetrable armour, and mounted on
a swift and strong horse, as invulnerable as himself,
takes pride that he rides down and stabs at his ease, and
with perfect safety, the naked Welshman?-or is it to his
nephew, the beardless Damian?-or must thy possessions
go to mend a breach in the foitunes of that other cousin,
Randal Lacy, the decayed reveller, who, they say
can no longer ruffle it among the debauched crusaders
for want of means?"
" My honoured aunt," replied Eveline, naturally dis
pleased with this discourse, "' to none of the Lacys, and
I trust to none other, Saxon or Norman, will your kinlswoman become a household drudge.  There was, before
tile death of my honoured father, some treaty betwixt
him  and the Constable, on which account I cannot at
present decline his attendance; but what may be the
issue of it, fate must determine."
"But I can show thee, niece, how the balance of
fate inclines," said Ermengarde, in a low and mysteriDus voice.  "Those united with us by blood have, in
some sot', the privilege of looking forward beyond the




THE  BETROTHED.                 149
points of present time, and seeing in their ver).ud the
thorns or flowers which are one day to encircle their
head."
" For my own sake, noble kinswoman," answered
Eveline,, "I would decline such foreknowledge, even
were it possible to acquire it without transgressing the
rules of the Church.  Could I have foreseen what has
befallen me within these last unhappy days, I had lost
thle enjoyment of every happy moment before that time."
" Nevertheless, daughter," said the Lady of Baldringham. "thou, like others of thy race, must within this
house conform to the rule, of passing one night within
the chamber of the Red-Finger.-Berwine, see that it
be prepared for my niece's reception."
" 1 —I-have heard speak of that chamber, gracious
aunt," said Eveline, timidly, " and if it may consist with
your good pleasure, I would not now choose to pass the
night there. My health has suffered by my late perils
and fatigues, and with your good-will I will delay to
another time the usage, which I have heard is peculiar
to the daughters of the house of Baldringham.'"
" And which, notwithstanding, you would willingly
avoid," said the old Saxon lady, bending her brows angrily.  " Has not such disobedience cost your house
enough already?"
" Indeed, honoured and gracious lady," said Berwine, unable to forbear interference, though well knowing the obstinacy of her patroness, " that chaulber is in
disrepair, and cannot easily on a sudden be made fit for
the Lady Eveline; and the noble damsel looks so pale,
and hath lately suffered so much, that, might I have the
permission to advise, this were better delayed."
"Thou art a fool, Berwine," said the old lady, sternly; " thinkest thou I will bring anger and misfoitune on
nay house, by suffering this girl to leave it without rendering the usual homage to the Red-Finger?  Go tolet the room be made ready-small preparation may
serve, if she cherish not the Norman nicety about bed
VOl.. 1




150t        TALES OF T-IE  CRUSADERS.
Maid lodging. Do not reply; but do as I command thee
-And youL Eveline-are you so far degenerated firom
the brave spirit of your ancestry, that you dare not pass
a few hlours in an ancient apartment?";' You are my hostess, gracious madam," said Eveline, " and must assign my apartment where you judge
proper-my courage is such as innocence and some
pride of blood and birth have given me.  It has been, of
late, severely tried; but, since such is your pleasure, and
the custom  of your house, my heart is yet strong enough
to encounter what you propose to subject me to."
She paused here in displeasure; for she resented,
in some measure, her aunt's conduct, as unkind and
inhospitable.  And yet when she reflected  upon the
foundation of the legend of the chamber to which she
was consigned, she could not but regard the Lady of
Baldringharn  as having considerable reason for her conduct, according to the traditions of the family, and the
oelief of the times, in which Eveline herself was devout
CHAPTER XIV.
Sometimes, methinks, I hear the groans of ghosts.
Then hollow sounds and lamentable screams;
Tlhen, like a dyilg echo from afar,
My mother's voice, that cries, " Wed not, AlmeydaForewarned, Almeyda, marriage is thy crime."
Don Sebastian.
THE evening at Baldringham would have seemed of
portentous and unendurable length, had it not been that
apprehended danger makes time pass quickly betwixt
tls and the dreaded hour, and that if Eveline felt little
interested or amused by the conversation of her aunt
and Berwine, which turned upon the long deduction of
their ancestors from the warlike Horsa, and the feats of




THE BETROTIEHEAD.               151
Saxon champions, and the miracles of' Sax, n nmonks, she
wvas still better pleased to listen to these legends, than to
anticipate her retreat to the destined and dreaded apartrient where she was to pass the night.   There lacked
not, however, such amusement as the house of Bald-,ringham could afford, to pass away the evening. Bless
ed by a grave old Saxon monk, the chaplain of' the house,
a sumptuous entertainment, which might have sufficed
twenty hungry men, was served up before Ermengarde
and her niece, whose sole assistants, besides the reverend man, were Berwine and Rose Flammock.  Eveline
was the less inclined to do justice to this excess of hospitality, that the dishes were all of the gross and substantial nature which the Saxons admired, but which contrasted disadvantageously with the refined and delicate cookery of the Normans, as did the moderate cup of light and
high-flavoured Gascon wine, tempered with more than
half its quantity of the purest water, with the mighty
ale, the high-spiced pigment and hippocras, and the other
potent liquors, which, one after another, were in vain
proffered for her acceptance by the steward Hundwolf,
in honour of the hospitality of Baldringham.
Neither were the stated amusements of the evening.nore congenial to Eveline's taste, than the profusion of
her aunt's solid refection.  When the boards and tresses,
on which the viands had been served, were withdrawn
from the apartment, the menials, under direction of the
steward, proceeded to light several long waxen torches,
one &ff which was graduated for the purpose of marking
the passing time, and dividing it into portions.  These
were announced by means of brazen balls, suspended
by threads from tile torch, the spaces betwixt them being
calculated to occupy a certain time in burning; so that,
when the flame reached the thread, and the balls fell,
each in succession, into a brazen basin placed for its
reception, the office of a modern clock was in some degree discharged.  By this light the party was arranged
for tile evening.
770




152        TALES OF TH E CRUSADERtSe
The:ncient Ermengarde's lofty and amly e chair wraw
removed, according to ancient custom, fron the middle
of tile apartment t9 the warmest side of a large grate.
filled with charcoal, and her guest was placed on her
right, as the seat of honour.  Berwine then arranged in
due order the felnales of the household, and, having seen
that each was engaged with her own proper task, sat
herself down to ply the spindle and distaff.  The men,
in a more remote circle, betook themselves to the repairing of their implements of husbandry, or new furbishing
weapons of the chase, under the direction of the steward
Hundwolf. For the amusement of the family thus as.sembled, an old glee-man sung-to a harp, which had but
four strings, a long and apparently interminable legend,
upon some religious subject, which was rendered almost
unintelligible to Eveline, by the extreme and complicated
affectation of the poet, who, in order to indulge in the
alliteration which was accounted one great ornament ol
Saxon poetry, had sacrificed sense to sound, and used
words in the most forced and remote sense, provided
they could be compelled into his service.  There was
also all the obscurity arising from elision, and from the
most extravagant and hyperbolical epithets
Eveline, though well acquainted with the Saxon language, soon left off listening to the singer, to reflect, for
a moment, on the gay fabliaux and imaginative lais of
the Norman minstrels, and then to anticipate, with anxious apprehension, what nature of visitation she might be
exposed to in the mysterious chamber in which she was
doomed to pass the night.
The hour of parting at length approached. At hall
an hour before midnight, a period ascertained by the
consumption of the huge waxen torch, the ball which was
secured to it fell clanging into the brazen basin placed
beneath, and announced to all the hour of rest.  The
old glee-man paused in his song, instantaneously and in
the middle of a stanza, and the household were all on
foot at the signal, some retiring to their own apartments,
others lighting torches or besr;ng lamps to conduct thc




THlE BETROrEHED.               153
visiters to their places ot repose.  Among these last was
a bevy of bower-women, to whom the duty was assigned
of conveying the Lady Eveline to her chamber for the
night.  Her aunt took a solemn leave of her, crossed her
forehead, kissed it, and whispered in her ear, " Be
courageous, and be fortunate."' May not my bower-maiden, Rose Flarnemock, or
my tire-woman, Dame Gillian, Raoul's wife, remain in
the apartment with me for this night?" said Eveline.' lammock —Raoul!" repeated Ermengarde, angrily;'" is thy household thus made up? The Flemings are
the cold palsy to Britain, the Normans the burping fever."
"And the poor Welch will add," said Rose, whose
resentment began to surpass her awe for the ancient Saxon dame, " that the Anglo-Saxons were the original disease, and resemble a wasting pestilellce."
" Thou art too bold, sweetheart,"  said the Lady
Ermengarde, looking at the Flemish maiden from under
her dark brows; "and yet there is wit ii' thy words.
Saxon, Dane, and Norman, have rolled like successive
billowvs over the land, each having strength to subdue
what they lacked wisdom to keep.  When shall it be
otherwise?"
" When Saxon, and Briton, and Norinan, and Fleming," answered Rose boldly, " shall leirn to call themselves by one name, and think themselves alike children
of the land they are born in."
" Ha!" exclaimed the Lady of Baldringham, in the
tone of one half-surprised, half-pleased.  Then turning
to her relation, she said, "' There are words and wit in
this maiden; see that she use, but do not abuse them."
" She is as kind and faithful, as she is prompt and
ready-witted," said Eveline.  " I pray you, dearest aunt
let me use her company for this night."
" It may not be-it were dangerous to both.  Alone
you must learn your destiny, as have all the ferr.ales of
our race, excepting your grandmother; and what have
been the consequences of her neglecting the rules ot




154        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
aur nouse?  Lo! her descendant stands before n e an
orphan, in the very bloorn of youth."
"I will go then," said Eveline, with a sigh of resig.
nation; " it. shall never be said I incurred future woe, to
thun present terror."
"Your attendants," said the Lady Ermengarde, "may
occupy the anteroom, and be. almost within your call
Bertwine will show you the apartment-I cannot; tor
we, thou knowest, who have once entered it, return not
thithllcr again.  Farewell, my child, and may heaven
bless thee!"
With more of human emotion and sympathy than she
had yet shown, the lady again saluted Eveline, and signed to her to follow Berwine, who, attended by two damsels bearing torches, waited to conduct her to the dreaded apartment.
Their torches glared along the rudely built walls and
dark arched roofs of one or two long winding passages;
these by their light enabled them to descend the stels of
a winding stair, whose inequality and ruggedness showed its antiquity; and finally led into a tolerably large
chamber on the lower story of the edifice, to which
some old hangings, a lively fire on the hearth, the moonbeams stealing through a latticed window, and the boughs
of a myrtle plant which grew around the casement, gave
no uncomfortable appearance.
" This," said Berwine, " is the resting-place of your
attendants," and she pointed to the couches which had
been prepared for Rose and Dame Gillian; " we," she
added, "proceed farther."
She then took a torch from the attendant maidens,
both of whom seemed to shrink back swith fear, which
wvas readily caught by Dame Gillian, although she was
not probably aware of the cause. But Rose Flaminock,
unbidden, followed her mistress without hesitation, as
Berwine conducted her throughi a small wicket at the
upper end of the apartment, clenched with many an iron
nail, into a second but smaller anteroom or wardrobe,
at the end of which was a similar door.'This wardrobe




THE IIETROTHIED.                155
I)ad also its casement mantled with evergreens, a'd, like
the former. it was faintly enlightened by the moon-beam.
Berwine paused here, and pointing to Rose demnanded of Eveline, " Whly does site follow?"
" To share my mistress's danger, be it what it nmay,"
answered Rose, with her characteristic readiness oI
speech and resolution.  " Speak," she said " my dearest lads," 1grasping Eveline's hand, while she addressed
her; " you will not drive your Rose firom you?  If 1
am less high-minded than one of your boasted race, I am
bold and quick-witted in all honest service.-You tremble like the aspen! Do not go into this apartment —
do not be gulled by all this pomp and mystery of ter —
rible preparation; bid defiance to this antiquated, and,
think, half-pagan superstition."
" The Lady Eveline must go, minion," replied Berwine sternly; " and she must go without any malapert
adviser or companion."
"Must go-must go," repeated Rose; " Is this language to a free and noble maiden?-Sweet lady, give
me once but the least hint that you wish it, and their; must go' shall be put to the trial.  I will call fiom the
casement on the Norman cavaliers, and tell them  we
have fallen into a den of witches, instead of a house of
hospitality."
"Silence, mad woman," said Berwine, her voice quivering with anger and fear; " you know not who dwells
in the next chamber!"
" I will call those who will soon see to that," sa.d
Rose, flying to the casement, when Eveline, seizing her
arm in her turn, compelled her to stop.' I thank thy kindness, Rose," she said, " but it cannot help me in this matter.  She who enters yonder
door, must do so alone."
" Then I will enter it in your stead, my dearest lady,"
said Rose.  " You are pale-you are cold-you will
die of terror if you go on.  There may be as much o1
trick as of supernatural agency in this matter-me tlley




I O9        TALES OF THE CRUSADEhS.
shall not deceive-or if some stern spirit craves a victim,
-better Rose than her lady.9
"Forbear, forbear," said Eveline, rousing up her
own spirits, "a you make me ashamed of myself.  This
is an ancient ordeal, which regards the females descended& from the house of Baldringham as far as in the third
degree, and them only.  I did not indeed expect, in my
present circumstances, to have been called upon to undergo it; but, since the hour summons me, 1 will meet
it as fireely as any of my ancestors."
So saying, she took the torch from the bhand of Berwine, and wishing good-night to her and Rose, gently
disengaged herself fonom the hold of the latter, and advanced into the mysterious chamber.  Rose pressed
after her so far as to see that it was an apartment of
moderate dimensions, resembling that through which
they had last passed, and lighted by'the moon-beams,
which came through a window lying on the same range
with those of the anterooms.  More she could not see,
for Eveline turned on the threshold, and kissing her
at the same time, thrust her gently back into the smaller
apartment which she had just left, shut the door of corn
munication, and barred and bolted it, as if in security
against her well-meant intrusion.
Berwine now  exhorted Rose, as she valued her life,
to retire into the first anteroom, where the beds were
prepared, and betake herself, if not to rest, at least to
silence and devotion; but the faithful Flemish girl stoutly
refilsed her entreaties, and resisted her commands.
" Talk not to me of danger," she said; " here I remain, that I may be at least within hearing of my mistress's danger, and woe betide those who shall offer her
injury!-Take notice, that twenty Norman spears sur
round this inhospitable dwelling, prompt to avenge whlatsoever injury shall be offered to the daughter of Raynilond Berenger."
" Reserve your threats for those who are mortal,'
said Berwine, in a low, but piercing whisper; " the




THE BETROTHED. 157
owner of yonder chamber fears them not.  Farewell —
thy danger be on thine own head."
She departed, leaving Rose strangely agitated by whax
had passed, and somewhat appalled at. her last words.
" These Saxons," said the maiden within herself, "' are
but half converted after all, and hold many of their old
hellish rites in the worship of elementary spirits.  Their
very sair]w are unlike to the saints of any Christian country, and have, as it were, a look of something savage
and fiendish-their very names sound pagan and diabolical. It is fearful being alone here-and all is silent
as death in the apartment into which my lady has
been thus strangely compelled.  Shall I call up Gillian?
— but no-she has neither sense, nor courage, nor principle, to aid me on such an occasion-better alone than
have a false friend for company.  I will see if the Normans are on their post, since it is to them I must trust,
if a moment of need should arrive."
Thus reflecting, Rose Flamnmock went to the window
of the little apartment, in order to satisfy herself of the
vigilance of the sentinels, and to ascertain the exact
situation of the corpsode garde.  The moon was at the
full, and enabled her to see with accuracy the nature of
the ground without.  In the first place, she was rather
disappointed to find, that instead of being so near the
earth as she supposed, the range of windows, which gave
light as well to the two anterooms as to the mysterious.chamber itself, looked down upon an ancient moat, by
which they were divided from the level ground on the
farther side.   The defence which this fbsse afforded
seemed to have been long neglected, and the bottom,
entirely dry, was choked in many places with bushes and
low trees, which rose up against the wall of the castle,
and by means of which it seemed to Rose the windows
might be easily scaled, and the mansion entered.  From
the level plain beyond, the space adjoining to the castle
vwas in a considerable degree clear, and the moon-beams
slumbered on its close and beautiful turf, mixed wiit:
long shadows of the towers and trees.  Beyond this es
V8 O'L. I.




t158        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
planade lay the forest ground, with a few gigai tic oak,
scattered individually along tile skirt of its dark and
ample domain, like champions, who take  their gtound:f defiance in firont of a line of arrayed battle.
The calm beauty and repose of a scene so lovely, tlhe
stillness of all around, and the more mlatured reflections
which the whole suggested, quieted, in some measure,
the apprehensions whliich the events of the evening had
inspired.  "After all," she reflected, " why shlould I bce so
anxious on account of the Lady Eveline? Tiere is among
thte proud Normans and the dogged Saxons scarce a single family of note, but must needs be held distingluisled
from others by some superstitious observance peculiar to
their race, as if they thought it scorn to go to heaven
like a poor simple Fleming, such as I am.-Could I but
see a Norman sentinel, I would hold myself satisfied ol
my mistress's security.-And yonder, one stalks along
the gloom, wrapt in his long white mantle, and the moon
tipping the point of his lance with silver. —Wlat, ho, Sir
Cavalier!"
The Norman turned his steps, and approached the
ditch as she spoke.  " What is your pleasure, damsel?"
he denmanded.
" Tile window next to mine is that of the Lady Eveline Berenger, whom  you  are appointed  to guard.
Please to give heedful watch upon this side of the castle."
" Doubt it not, lady," answered the cavalier; and,
enveloping himself in his long chalpe, or military watchcloak, he withdrew to a large oak-tree at some distance
and stood there with folded arms, and leaning on hi3
lance, more like a trophy of armour than a living warrior.
Emboldened by thle consciousness, that in case of
need succour was close at hand, Rose drew bhack into her
little chamber, and having ascertained, by iistening, that
there was no noise or stirring in that of Eveline, she
began to make some preparations for hler own repose
F'or this purpose she went into the outward  anterornm
v hlere Dame Gilliani, whose fears had given way to thte
stP0,i'fe1l s FefI.ects of a cOullous dr.laught of li'hc-tiGcs




THE  BETROTIHI'D-.                 159
j(ildl ale, of the first strength and quaiity,) slel ( as so(und
* sleep as that generous Saxon beverage could procure.
lMuttering  an indignant censure on her sloth and indiflerence, Rose caughlt, firom the empty couch which had
been destined for hler own use, tile upper covering, and
dragging it with her into the inner anteroom, disposed it
so as, with the. assistance of the rushes whllich strewed
that apartment, to form  a sort of couchl, upon  which,
hlalf-seated, half-reclined, she resolved to pass the nlight
in as close attendance upon her mistress as circumstances permitted.
Thus seated, her eye on the pale planet which sailed
ill full glory through the blue sky of midnight, slhe proposed to herself thlat sleep should not visit her eyelids
till the dawn of morning should assure her of Eveline!s
safety.
Her thoughts, meanwhile, rested on the boundless and
shadowy world beyond the grave, and on the great and
perhaps yet undecided question, whether the separation
of its inhabitants firom  those of this temporal sphere is
albsolute and decided, or whether, influenced by motives
which we cannot al)preciate, they continue to hold shadowv  communication with those yet existing in earthly
reality of flesh and blood?  To have denied this, would,
in the age of crusades and  of miracles, have incurred
the guilt of heresy; but Rose's firm good sense led hler
to cioubt at least the firequency of supernatural interference, and she comforted herself with an opinion, contradicted, however, by her own involuntary starts and shudderings at every leaf whllich moved, that, in submitting
to performance of the rite imposed on her, Eveline incurred no real danger, and only sacrificed to an obsolete
family superstition.
As this conviction strengthened on Rose's mind, her
purpose of vigilance began  to decline —lher thoughlts
wandered to objects towards which they w-ere tnot (lirected, Wke sheep which stray beyond the charge of thleir
shepherd-her eyes no longer brought back to her a disinet apprehelsion of the broad, round, silvery orb oni




160iO       TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
which they continued to gaze.   At length they closed,
and, seated on the folded mantle, her back resting against
the wall of the apartment, and her white arms folded or
lier bosom, Rose Flamnlock fell fast asleep.
Her repose was fearfully broken by a shrill and piercing shriek from the apartment where her lady reposed.
To start up and fly to the door was the work of a moment with the generous girl, who never permitted fear
to struggle with love or duty.  The door was secured
with both bar and bolt; and another fainter scream, or
rather groan, seemed to say, aid must be instant, or in
vain.  Rose next rushed to the window, and screamed
rather than called to the Norman soldier, who, distinguished by the white folds of his watch-cloak, still retained
his position under the old oak-tree.
At the cry of " Help, help!-the Lady Eveline is
murdered!" the seeming statue, starting at once into
active exertion, sped with the swiftness of a race-horse
to the brink of the moat, and was about to cross it, opposite to the spot where Rose stood at the open casement, urging him to speed by voice and gesture.
" Not here-not here!" she exclaimed with breathless precipitation, as she saw him make towards her" the window to the right-scale it, for God's sake, and
undo the door of communication!"
The soldier seemed to comprehend her-he dashed
into the moat without hesitation, securing himself by
catching at the boughs of trees as he descended.  In one
moment he vanished among the underwood; and in
another, availing himself of the branches of a dwarf oak,
i'ose saw him upon her right, and close to the window
of the fatal apartment.  One fear remained-the caseIaient might be secured against entrance from withoLtLut no! at tile thrust of thie Norman it yielded, and its
cl.asps or fastenings being worn with time, fell inward
with a crash which even Dame Gillian's slumbers were
i1nable to resist.
Echoing scream upon scream, in the usual fashion of
fools an) cowards, she entered the cabinet from  the




anterot;ms,jlsl (as Il.c (io(Jy oi' Eveline's chamnbei pened, and the solciiel-i icjearcid, bearing in his arms the
half-undressed and lifeless formn of the Norman Inaiden
herself.   Without speaking a word, lie placed her in
Rose's arms, and with the same precipitation with which
he had entered, threw himself out of the opened window
from which Rose had summoned him.
Gillian, half distracted with fear and wonder, heaped
exclamations on questions, and mingled questions with
cries for help, till Rose sternly rebuked her, in a tone
which seemed to recall her scattered senses.   She became then composed enough to fetch a lamp which remained lighted in the room she had left, and to render
herself at least partly useful in suggesting and applying
the usual modes for recalling the suspended sense.  In
this they at length succeeded, for Eveline fetched a
fuiller sigh, and opened her eyes; but presently shut them
again, and letting her head drop on Rose's bosom, fell
into a strong shuddering fit; while her faithful damsel,
chafing her hands and her temples alternately with affectionate assiduity, and mingling caresses with these efforts,
exclaimed aloud, " She lives!-She is recovering!Praised be God!"
" Praised be God!" was echoed in a solemn tone
from the window of the apartment; and turning towaids
it in terror, Rose beheld the armed and plumed head of
the soldier who had come so opportunely to their assistance, and who, supported by his arms, had raised himself so high as to be able to look into the interior of the
cabinet.
Rose immediately ran towards him.  " Go-go —
good friend," she said; "the lady recovers-your reward
shall await you another time.  Go —-bego:le!-yet stay!
-keep on your post, and I will call you if there is farther
need.  Begone-be faithful, and be secret."
The soldier obeyed without answering a word, and
she presently saw him  descend into the moat.  Rose
then returned back to her mistiness whom  shie found
VOL. I.




H6i2        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
supportld by  Gillian, moaning  feebly, and mutterii.g
hurried and unintelligible ejaculations, all intimating tlhai
she labouLred under a violent shock sustained from some
alarnming  cause.
Dame Gillian had no sooner recovered some degree
of self-possession, than her curiosity became active ir
proplortion.  " What means all this?" she said to Rose ~
"wlllht has been doing among you?"
"I do not know," replied Rose.
"I Tf you do not," said Gillian, " Who should?-Shall
I call the other women, and raise the house?"
" Not for your lite," said Rose, " till my lady is able
to give her own orders; and for this apartment, so help
me Heaven, as I will do my best to discover the secrets
it contains!-Support my mistress the whilst."'
So saying, she took tl)e lamp in her hand, and crossing hler brow, stepped  boldly  across the mysterious
threshold, and holding -up the light, surveyed tlle apartment.
It was merely an old vaulted chamber, of very moderate dimensions.  In one corner was an image of the
Virgin, rudely cut, and placed  above a Saxon font ol
curious worfkmanshlip.   Tlhere were two seats, and a
couctl, covered with coarse tapestry, on which it seemed
that Eveline had been reposing.  The fragments of the
shattered casement lay on the floor; but that opening had
been only made when the soldier forced it in, and she
saw no other access by which a stranger could hlave entered an apartment, the ordinary access to  which was
barred and bolted.
Rose felt the influence of those terrors which she had
hitllerto surmounted; she cast her mantle hastily around
her head, as if to shrould her sight from soime blighting
vision, and tripping back to the cabinet, with more speed
and a less fir-n step than when she left it, she directed
G(illian to lent( ner assistance in conveying Eveline to the
iiext room; aad llaving done so, carefully secured the
toor of communication  as if to put a barrier betwixt
tl1emn- and the suspected langer.




TIHE BETROTHED                   163
The Lady Eveline was now so far recovereI tllat sl e
could sit up, and was trying to speak, tlhough but faintly.
"Rose," she said at length, "I have seen her-nly
doom is sealed."
lRose immediately recollected the imprudence of suffering Gillian to hear what her mistress miglht say at
such an awful moment, and hastily adopting the Prol?'sashe ilad before declined, desired her to go and call otllei
two maidens of their mistress's household.
" And where am I to find them in this house," said
Dame Gillian, " where strange men run about one's
chamber at mliidnigllt, and devils, for auglht 1 know, fiequent the rest of the habitation?"
" Find them  where you can," said Rose, sharply;
"but begone presently."
Gillian withdrew lingeringly, and muttering at the same
time something which could not distinctly be understood.
IN o sooner was she gone, than Rose, giving way to the
enthusiastic affection whicll she felt for her mistress, imnplored her, in the most tender terms, to open her eyes,
(for she had again closed them,) and speak to Rose, lier
own Rose, who was ready, if necessary, to die by lher
mistress's side.
" To-morrow-to-morrow, Rose," murmured Eveline-" I cannot speak at prlesent."
" Only disburden your mind with one word-tell what
has thus alarmed you0-what danger you apprehend."
"i have seen her," answered Eveline- " 1 have seen
the tenant of yonder chamber —the vision fatal to my
race! —Urge me no more-to-morrow you shall know
all.,"15
As Gillian entered with two of the maidens of her
mistress's household, they removed the Lady Eveline,
by Rose's directions, into a chamhber at some distance,
tvhich the latter lhad occupied, and placed lier in one:f Jleir beds, where Rose, dismissing the others, (Gillian
excepted) to seek repose where tlhey could find it, continued to watch iher mistress.  For some time she continued ver  -i ch disturbed, but, gradually, fatigue. and




164         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
the influence of some narcotic which Gillian had sense
enough to recommend and prepare, seemed to compose
her spirits.  She fell into a deep' slumber, fronm whicn
she did not awaken until the sun was high over the dis
tant hills.
CHAPTER XV.
I see a hand you cannot see,
Which beckons me away;
I hear a voice you cannot hear,
Which says I must nlot stay.
MALLET.
WHEN Eveline first opened her eyes, it seemed to be
without any recollection of what had passed on the niglht
preceding.  She looked round the apartment, wlichl was
coarsely and scantily furnished, as one destined for the
use of domestics and menials, and said to Rose, with a
smile, " Our good kinswoman maintains the ancient
Saxon hospitality at a homely rate, so far as lodging is
concerned.   I could have willingly parted  with last
night's profuse supper, to have obtained a bed of a softer
texture.  Methinks my limbs feel as if I had been under
all the flails of a Franklin's barn-yard."
"' I am glad to see you so pleasant, madam," answered Rose, discreetly avoiding any reference to the events
of the night before.
Dame Gillian was not so scrupulous.  " Your iady
ship last night lay down on a better bed than this," she
said, " unless I am much mistaken; and Rose Flam-.
mock and yourself know best why you left it."
If a look could have killed, Dame Gillian would have
been ir deadly peril from that which Rose shot at her,
by wag  f rebuke for this ill-advised communication. It




THE BETRIOTHEOD         [        6a
nad instantly the effect which was to be apprehended, foI
Lady Eveline seemed at first surprised and confused;
then, as recollections of the past arranged themselves
in her memory, she folded her hands, looked on the
ground, and wept bitterly, with much agitation.
Rose entreated her to be comforted, and offered to
fetch the old Saxon chaplain of the house to administer
spiritual consolation, if her grief rejected temporal
comfort.
" No-call him  not," said Eveline, raising her head
and drying her eyes-" I have had enough of Saxon
kindness.  What a fool was I to expect, in that hard and
unfeeling woman, any commiseration for my youth-my
late sufferings —my orphan condition! I will not permit
her a poor triumph over the Norman blood of Berenger,
by letting her see, )w much I have suffered under her
inhuman infliction.  But first, Rose, answer me truly,
was any inmate of Baldringham witness to my distress
last night?"
Rose assured her that she had been tended exclusively by her own retinue, herself and Gillian, Blanche
and Ternotte.  She seemed to receive satisfaction from
this assurance.   " Hear me, both of you," she said,
"and observe my words, as you love and as you fear me.
Let no syllable be breathed from your lips of what has
happened this night.  Carry the same charge to my
maidens.  Lend me thine instant aid, Gillian, and thine,
my dearest Rose, to change these disordered garments
and arrange this dishevelled hair.  It was a poor vengeance she sought, and all because of my country.  I
am resolved she shall not see the slightest trace of the
sufferings she has inflicted."
As she spoke thus, her eyes flashed with indignation,
which seemed to dry up the tears that had before filled
them. Rose saw the change of her manner with a mixture of pleasure and concern, being aware that her nistress's predominant failing was incident to her, as a spoiled child, who, accustomed to be treated with kindness,
deference, and indluilgenee, by all around her, was apt to




16(         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
eseiv warn:'y whatever resembled neglect or contradic-'God knows," said the faithfull bower-maiden, "1
would hold my hand out to catch drops of molten lead,
rather than endure your tears; and Vet, my sweet mistress, I would ratller at present see you grieved than
angry. This ancient lady hath, it would seem, but acted
according to some old superstitious rite of her family,
which is in part yours.  Her name is respectable, both
fiom her conduct and possessions; and, hard-pressed as
you are by the Normans, with whom your kinswoman,
the Prioress, is sure to take part, I was in hope you might
have had some shelter and countenance from the Lady of
Baldringham."
"Never, Rose, never," answered  Eveline; "you
know  not-you cannot guess what she has made me
suffer-exposing me to witchcraft and fiends.  Thyself
said it, and said it truly —the Saxons are still half Pagans, void of christianity, as of nurture and kindliness."
" Ay, but," replied Rose, " I spoke then to dissuade
you from a danger;-nov that the danger is passed and
over, I Inay judge of it otllerwise."
"Speak not fobr them, Rose," replied Eveline, angrily; " no innocent victim was ever offered up at the altar
of a fiend with more indifierence than nmy father's kinswoman delivered up me-me an orphan, bereaved of my
natural and powerful support.  I hate ller cruelty-I
hate her house-I hate the thought of all that has happened here-of all, Rose, except thy matchless faith and
fearless attachment.  Go, bid our train saddle directly
-I will be gone instantly —  will not attire myself," sihe
added, rejecting tlhe assistance she ihad at first required
— " I will have no ceremony-tarry for no leave-taking."
In the hurried and agitated manner of her mistress
Rose recognized uwith anxiety another mood of the same
rritable and excited temperament, which had before
discharged itself in tears and fits.  But perceiving, am
tlhe same time, that remonstrance was in vain, she gave
tlhe necessary orders for collecting their' cormpany, sad




TtlHE BET-ROTHI-ED.            167
dling, and preparing for departure; hoping, that as her
mistress removed to a farther distance firom the scene
whlere her mind had received so severe a shock, her
equanimity might, by degrees, be restored.
Dame Gillian. accordingly, was busied with arranging
the packages of her lady, and all the rest of Lady Eve —
line's retinue in preparing for instant departure, when.
preceded by her steward, who acted also as a sort ol
gentleman usher, leaning upon her confidential Berwine,
and followed by two or three more of the most distinguislied of her household, with looks of displeasure on
her ancient yet lofty brow, the Lady Ermengarde entered
the apartment.
Eveline, with a trembling and hurried hand, a burning
cheek, and other signs of agitation, was herself busied
about the arrangement of some baggage, when her relation made her appearance. At once, to Rose's great
surprise, she exerted a strong command over herself,
and repressing every external appearance of disorder,
she advanced to meet her relation, with a calm anid
haughty stateliness equal to her own.
" I come to give you good mnorning, our niece," said
Ermengarde, haughtily indeed, yet with more deference
than she seemed at first to have intended, so much did
the bearing of Eveline impose respect upon her;-" 1
find that you have been pleased to shift that chamber'liich was assigned you, in conformity wit!h the ancient
custom  of this household, and betake yourself to the
apartment of a menial."
" Are you surprised at that, lady?" demanded Eveline in her turn; "' or are you disappointed that you find
me not a corpse, within the limits of the chamber which
your Ilolpitality and aflfection allotted to me?"' Youtl sleep, then, has been broken?" said Ermengarde, looking fixedly at the Lady Eveline, as she spoke.
"If I comnplain not, niadam, the evil must be deemed
of little consequence.  What has happened, is over and
past, and it is not amy intention to trouble you with the
recital"




168         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.' She of the ruddy finger," replied Ermengarce,
triumphantly, " loves not the blood of the stranger."
" She had less reason, while she walked the earth,
to love that of the Saxonl," said Eveline, " unless her
legend speaks false in that matter; and unless, as I well
suspect, your house is launted, not by the soul of the
dead who suffered within its walls, but by evil spirits,
such as the descendants of Hengist and IHorsa are said
still in secret to worship."
" You are pleasant, maiden," replied the old lady
scornfully, " or, if your words are meant in earnest,
the shaft of your censure has glanced aside.  A hlouse.
blessed by the holy Saint Dunstan, and by the royal and
holy Confessor, is no abode for evil spirits."
"' The house of Baldringhain," replied Eveline, "is
no abode for those who fear such spirits; and as I will,
with all humility, avow  myself of the number, I shall
presently leave it to the custody of Saint Dunstan."' Not till you have broken your fast, I trust?" said
the Lady of Baldringham; c" you will not, I hope, do
my years and our relationship such foul disgrace?"' Pardon me, madam," replied the Lady Eveline,
" those who have experienced your hospitality at night,
have little occasion for breakfast in the morning. —Rose,
are not those loitering knaves assembled in the courtyard, or are they yet on their couches, making up for the
slumber they have lost by midnight disturbances?"
Rose announced that her train was in the court, and
mounted; when, with a low reverence, Eveline endeavoured to pass her relation, and leave the apartment without farther ceremony.  Ermengarde at first confronted
her with a grim and furious glance, which seemed to
show a soul fraught with more rage than the thin blood
and rigid features of extreme old age had the power of
expressing, and raised her ebony staff as if about even to
proceed to some act of personal violence.  But she
changed her purpose, and suddenly made way for Eveline, who passed without fulrther parley; and as she
iescended the staircase wlhicl conducted from the apart



THE BETROTHED.                    1 D
ment to the gateway, she heard the voice of her aunt behind her, like that of an aged and offended sibyl, denouncing  wrath and woe upon her insolence and presumption.
"  ride," she exclaimed, " goeth before destr.uction,
and a haughty spirit before a fall.  She wlo scornetl
the houz;e of her forefathers, a stone from  its battlemenlts shall crush her! She who mocks the grey hairs
of a parent, never shall one of her own locks be silvered
with age    She who weds with a man of war and ot
blood, her end shall neither be peaceful nor bloodless!"
Hurrying to escape fiorom  these and other ominous
cdenunciations, Eveline rushed from the house, mounted
her palfrey with the precipitation of a fugitive, and, surrounded by her attendants, who had caught a part of her
alarm, though without conjecturing the cause, rode hastily into the forest; old Raoul, who was well acquainted
with the country, acting as their guide.
Agitated more than she was willing to confess to herself, by thus leaving the habitation of so near a relation,
loaded with maledictions,.instead of the blessings which
are usually bestowed on a departing kinswoman, Eveline hastened forward, until the huge oak-trees witlh intervening arms had hidden from her view the fatal mansion.
The trampling.and galloping of horse wvas soon aftei
heard, announcing the approach of the patrol left by the
Constable for the protection of the mansion, and whlo
now, collecting from their different stations, came lprelp)red to attend Lady Eveline on her farther road to Gloucester, great part of which lay throllgh tlhe extensive
forest of Deane, then a sylvan region of large ext!:nt,
though now much denuded of trees for thle service ot
the iron mines.  The cavaliers came ul) to join tlle retinue of Lady Eveline, with armour glittering in the
morning rays, trumpets sounding, horses prancing, ilelghing, and thrown, each by his chivalrous rider, int,) the
attitude best qualified to exhibit the beauty of the steed.
and dexterity of the horseman;'while- their lances
VOL. 1.




!t70        TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
strearning with long penoncelles, were brandished in e% e:y
manner which could display elation of heart and readiness
of' hand.  The sense of the military character of her
countrymel of' Normandy gave to Eveline a feeling at
once of security and of'tliumph, which operated towards
the dispelling of her gloomy thoughts, and of tile feverish disorder which affiected her nerves.  The rising sun
also-the song of the birds among the bowers-the lowtmn  of'the cattle as they were driven to pasture —the sight
of the hind, who, with her fawn trotting by her side,
often crossed somne forest glade within view of' the travelJers,-all contributed to dispel the terror of Eveline's noc.turnal visions, and soothe to rest the more angry passio-:s
which had agitated her bosom  at her departure fior!l
Baldringham.  She suffered her palifey to slacken his
pace, and, with female attention to propriety, began to
adjust her riding robes, and compose her head-dress,
disordered in her hasty departure.  Rose saw her cheek
assume a paler but more settled hue, instead of the angry
lhectic which had coloured it-saw her eye become more
steady as she looked with a sort of triumph upon her
military attendants, and pardoned (what on other occasions she would probably have made some reply to) her
enthusiastic exclamations in praise of her countrymen.
C  WTe journey safe," said Eveline, " under the care
of the princely and victorious Normans'.  Theirs is the
noble wrath of the lion, which destroys or is appeased
at once-there is no guile in their romantic affection,
no sullenness mixed with their generous indignation —
tlhey know the duties of the hall as well as those of battle;
and were they to be surpassed in the arts of war, (which
will only be when Plinlimmon is removed froia its base,)
they would still remain superior to every other people in
generosity and courtesy."
" If I do not feel all their merits so strongly as if I
shared their blood," said Rose, "1 am  at least glad to
see them around us, in woods whicll are said to abound
with dangers of various kinds.  And I confess, my heart
is the lighter. that I can now no longer observe the least




THE  BETROTHED.                  3I7
vestige of that ancient mansion, in whchl!   we passed se
unpleasant a night, and the recollection of which will al
ways be odclious to me."
Eveline looked sharply at her.  " Confess the truth
Rose; tllou wouldst give thy best kirtle to know  all ol
my horrible adventure."
" It is but confessing that I am a woman," answered
Rose; " and did I say a man, I dare say the difference
of sex would imply but a small abatement of curiosity."
" Thou makest no parade of other feelings, which
prompt thee to inquire into my fortunes," said Eveline;' but, sweet Rose, I givetlbeenotthe less credit for them.
Believe me, thou shalt know all —but, I think, not now."
" At your pleasure," said Rose; " and yet, methinks,
the bearing in your solitary bosom such a fearful secret
will only render the weight more intolerable.  On my
silence you may rely as on that of the Holy Image,
which hears us confess what it never reveals.  Besides,
such tliings become familiar to the imagination when
they have been spoken of, and that which is familiar
gradually becomes stripped of its terrors."' Thotl speakest with reason, my prudent Rose; and
surely in tlhis gallant troop, borne like a flower on a bush
by my good palfifey Yseulte-.-fresh gales blowing round
us, flowers opeing and birds singing, and having thee
by my bridle-rein, I ougllt to feel this a fitting time to
comnmunicate what tlhou lhast so good a title to know.
And-yes!-thou shalt know  all!-Thou  art not, I
presume, ignorant of the qualities of what the Saxons of
this land call a Bahr-gcist?"
"Pardon me, lady," answered Rose, " my father disccuraged my listening to such discourses.  I might see
evil spirits enough, he said, withomlt my imagination beilug taught to forln such as were fantastical.  The word
Bahr-geist, I have heard used by Gillian and other Saxons; but to me it only conveys some idea of indefinite
terror, of wxvich I have never asked nor receivea an
explanation."




[72        FTA L, S OF THE CIt UADEII.E
"Know then," said Eveline, "it is a spectre, usually the
image of a departed person, who, either for wrong sustained ill some particular place during life, or through treasur  hidden there, or from some such other cause, haunts
th2 pot from  time to time, becomes familiar to those
who dwell there, takes an interest in their fate, o( casionally for good, in other instances or times for evil, The
Bahr-geist is, therefore, sometimes regarded as the good
genius, sometimes as the avenging fiend, attached to
particular families and classes of men.  It is the lot of
the family of Baldringham, (of no mean note in other
respects,) to be subject to the visits of such a being."'" May I ask the cause (if it be known) of such visitation?" said Rose, desirous to avail -herself to the utter
most of the communicative mood of her young lady,
which might not perhaps last very long.
" I know the legend but imperfectly," replied Eveline, proceeding with a degree of calmness, the result ol
strong exertion over her mental anxiety, " but in general it runs thus:-Baldrick, the Saxon hero who first
possessed yonder dwelling, became enamoured of a fail
Briton, said to have been descended from those Druids
of whom  the Welch speak so much, and deemed not
unacquainted with the arts of sorcery which they practised, when they offered up human sacrifices amid those
circles of unhewn and living rock, of which thou hast
seen so many.  After more than two years wedlock,
Baldrick became weary of his wife to such a point, that
he formed the cruel resolution of putting her to death.
Some say he doubted her fidelity -some that the matter
was pressed on him by the church, as she was suspected
of heresy - some that he removed her to make way for
a more wealthy marriage - but all agree in the result.
tIe sent two of his Cnichts to the house of Baldringham
to put to death the unfortunate Vanda, and commanded
them to bring him the ring which had circled her finger
on the day of wedlock, in token that -iis orders were accomrplished. The men were ruthless in their office, they
btranglerl Vanda in yonder apartment, and( as the hand




TH E BETROTHED.                 173
was so swollen that no eqcrt could draw  off the ring,
they obtained possession of it by severing tie fin.1ger.
But long befor,. the return of those cruel perpetrators of
l)er death, the shadow of Vanda had appeared before
her appalled husband, and holding up to him her bloody
hand, made him  fearfully sensible how well his savage
commands had been obeyed.  After haunting him  in
peace and war, in desert, court, and camp, until he died
despairingly on a pilgrimage to the Holy-land, the Bahrgeist, or ghost of the murdered Vanda, became so terrible in the House of Baldringham, that the succour of
Saint Dunstan was itself scarcely sufficient to put bounds
to her visitation. Yea, the blessed saint, when he had
succeeded in his exorcism, did, in requital of Baldrick's
crime, impose a strong and enduring penalty upon every
female descendant of the house in the third degree;
namely, that once in their lives, and before their twentyfirst year, they should each spend a solitary night in the
chamber of the murdered Vanda, saying therein certain
prayers, as well for her repose, as for the suffering soul
of her murderer. During that awful space, it is generally believed that the spirit of the murdered person appears to the female who observes the vigil, and shows
some sign of her future good or bad fortune.  If- favourable, she appears with a smiling aspect, and crosses them
with her unbloodied hand; but she announces evil fortune by showing the hand from which the finger was
severed, with a stern countenance, as if resenting ipon
the descendant of her husband his inhuman cruelty.
Sometimes she is said to speak.  These particulars I
learned long since from an old Saxon dame, the mother
of our Marjorie, who had been an attendant on my grandmother, and left the House of Baldringham when she
made her escape from it with my father's father."
"Did your grandmother ever render this homage,"
said Rose, " which seemns to me-under favour of Saint
l)unstan-to bring humanity into too close intercomise, ith a being of a doubtful nature?"
VOL, I.




174         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"My grandfather thought so, and never permitted,rvy
grandnlother to revisit the House of Baldringhant after
her marriage; lence disunion betwixt him and his son
on thle one part, and the members of that family ou the
other.  They laid sundry misfortunes, and particularly
the loss of' male heirs which at that time befell them, to
nay parent's not having done the hereditary homage to
the bloody-fingered Bahr-geist."
" And how could you, my dearest lady," said Rose,' knowing that they held among them an usage so hideous, think of accepting the invitation of Lady Ermengarde?"
"1 can hardly answer you the question," replied Eveline.  " Partly I feared my father's recent calamity, to be
slain (as I have heard him say his aunt once prophesied of
him) by the enemy he most despised, might be the result of
this rite having been neglected; and partly I lhoped, that if
my mind should be appalled at tile danger, when it presented itself closer to my eye, it coul(l not be urged on me
in courtesy and humanity.  You saw how soon my cruelhearted relative pounced upon tile opportunity, and how
impossible it became for me, bearing the name, and, I
truist, the spirit of Berenger, to escape finom the net in
which I had involved myself.''
" No regard for name or rank should have engaged
me," replied Rose, " to place mylself where aplprellension alone, even without thle terrors of a real visitation,
might have punished my presumlltlon with insanity.  But
what, in the name of Heaven, did you see at this horrible rendezvous?"
" Ay, there is the question," said Eveline, raising her
band to her brow-" how I could witness that whlich I
distinlctly saw, yet be able to retain command of tlhought
and intellect!-1 had recited the prescribed devotions for
the murderer and his victim, and sitting down oil the
couch which was assigned me, had laid aside such of my
l!othes as might impede my rest-I had surmounted, in
short, the first shock wlhich 1 experienced in committing
-nyself to this mysterious cLiamber, and I hoped to pass




THE BETROTHED.                  175
the ut gilt in slumber as. sound as my thoughts were innocent.   But I was fearfully disappointed.  I cannot
judge how long I had slept, when my bosomn was oppressed by an unusual weight, which seemed at once to stifle,
my voice, stop the beating of my heart, and prevent me
friom drawing t.y breath; and when I looked up to discover the cause of this horrible suffocation, the form oi
the murdered British matron stood over my couch, taller
than life, shadowy, and with a countenance where traits
of dignity and beauty were mingled with a fierce expression of vengeful exultation.  She held over me the
hand which bore the bloody marks of her husband's
cruelty, and seemed as if she signed the cross, devoting
me to destruction; while with an unearthly tone she uttered these wclds:Widow'd wife and wedded maid
Betroth'd, betrayer, and betray'd!
The phantom stooped over me as she spoke, and lowered her gory thngers, as if to touch my face, when terror
giving me the power of which at first it deprived mne, I
screamed aloud-the casement of the apartment was
thrown open with a loud noise-and-But what signifies
my telling all this to thee, Rose, who show so plainly, by
the movement of eye and lip, that you consider me as a
silly and childish dreamer?"
" Be not anlgry, my dear lady," said Rose; " I do
indeed believe that the witch we call Mara* lhas been
dealing with you; but she, you know, is by leeches considered as no rcal phantom, but solely the creation of our
own imagination, disordered by causes which arise from
bodily indisposition."
"Thou art learned, maiden," said Eveline, rather
peevishly; " but when I assure thee that my better angel
came to my assistance in a human form-that at his ap.
pearance the fiend vanished-and that he transported me
n his arms out of the chamber of terror, I think thou
Ephialtes, or Nightmare.




1l6         TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
wilt, as a goodA Christian, put more faith in that which I
tell you."
" Indeed, indeed, my sweetest mistress, 1 cannot,"
replied Rose.   " It s even that circumstance of the
guardian angel which makes me consider the whole as
a dream.   A Norman sentinel, whom I myself called
from his post on purpose, did indeed come to your
assistance, and, breaking into your apartment, transported you to that where I myself received you from his
arms in a lifeless con(lition."
"' A Norman soldier, ha!" said Eveline, colouring
extremely; " and to whom, maiden, did you dare give
commission to break nto mny sleeping-chamber?"
" Your eyes flash anger, madam, but is it reasonable
they should? —Did I not hear your screams of agony,
and was I to stand fettered by ceremony at such a moment?-no more than if the castle had been on fire."
" I ask you again, Rose," said her mistress, still
with discomposure, though less angrily than at first,
" whom you directed to break into my apartment?"
" Indeed I know not, lady,"  said Rose; " for, besides that he was muffled in his mantle, little chance was
there of my knowing his features, even had I seen them
fully.  But I can soon discover the cavalier; and I
will set about it, that I may give him the reward I promised, and warn him to be silent and discreet in this
matter."
C' Do so," said Eveline; " and if you find him among
those soldiers who attend us, I will indeed lean to thine
opinion, and think that phantasy had the chief share in
the evils I have endured the last night."
Rose struck her palfrey with the rod, and, accompanied by her mistress, rode up to Philip Guarine, the
Constable's squire, who for the present commanded their
little escort.   " Good Guarine," she said, "I had talk
with one of these senti lels last night fiom my window,
and he did me some service, for which I promised him
recompenlce-Will you inquire for the man, that I may
pay him hlis guerdon?'




T'HE B ET'lOTHED.               i
b" Truly, I will owe him a guerdon also, pretty maiien," answered the squire; "for if a lance of tohem aL
proached near enough the house to hold speech r'om the
windows, he transgressed the precise orders of his watch."
"Tush! you must forgive that for my sake." said
Rose.  "I warrant, had I called on yourself, stout Gtuatine, I should have had influence to bring you under m/
chamber window."
Guarine laughed, and shrugged his shoulders. "True
it is," he said, " when women are in place discipiiue is
in danger."
lie then went to make the necessary inquiries a;m!long
his band, and returned with the assurance. that hii,.soldiers, generally and severally, denied having approaachltd
tile mansion of the Lady Ermengarde on the preceding
niglht.
" Thou seest, Rose," said Eveline, with a significant
look, to her attendant.
" The poor rogues are afraid of Guarine's severity,"
said Rose, c and dare not tell the truth —I shall have
some one in private claiming the reward of me."
" I would I had the privilege myself, damsel," said
Guarine; " but for these fellows, they are not so timorous as you suppose them, being even too ready to avouch
their roguery when it hath less excuse-Besides, I promised them  impunity. —Have you anything farther to
order?"
" Nothing, good Guarine," said Eveline; " only this
small donative to procure wine for thy soldiers, that they
may spend the next nlight more merrily than the last.
-And now he is gone,-Maiden, thou must, I think,
be now well aware, that what thou sawest was no earthly
being?"
"I must believe mine own ears and eyes, madam,"
replied Rose.' Do-but allow me the same privilege," answered
Eveline.  "Believe me that my deliverer (for so I must
call him,) bore the features of one who neither was, no)
(crultd be, i the neighllhouhood of Paldringham. — Tell




t7s         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
me but one thing-What dost thou think of this exlraor
di;nary predictionVidLour'(d wife and Nwedded maid,
3etrothl'd, betraycr, and betray'd 7
Th;.r., wilit say it is an idle invention of my brain —-but!!hink it for a moment the speech of a true diviner, and
what wouldst thou say of it?"
" That you may be betrayed, my dearest lady, but
r cv.er can be a betrayer," answered Rose with animation.
Evuline reached her hand out to her friend, and. as
slhe pressed affectionately that which Rose gave in return,
she -whispered to her with energy, " 1 thank thee for tile
itl!gtment, which my own heart confirms."
A cloud of dust now  announced the approach of the
C(onstable of Chester and his retinue, augmented by the
attendance of his host Sir William Herbert, and some
of his neighbours and kinsmen, who came to pay their
respects to the orphan of the Garde Doloureuse, by whichl
appellation Eveline was known upon her passage through
their territory.
Eveline remarked, that, at their greeting, De Lacy
looked with displeased surprise at the disarrangement of
her dress and equipage, which her hasty departure from
Baldringhlam had necessarily occasioned; and she was,
on her part, struck with an expression of countenance
which seemed to say, " I am not to be treated as an ordinary person, who may- be rece;ived with negligence,
and treated slightly with impunity.'  For the first time,
she thought that, though always deficient in grace and
beauty, the Constable's countenance was formed to express the more angry passions with force and vivacity,
and that she who shared his rank and name must lay her
account with the implicit surrender of her will and wishes
to those of an arbitrary lord and master.
But the cloud soon passed from the Constable's brow;
and in the conversation which he afterwards maintained
with Herbert and the other knights and gentlemen, who
from Pime to time came to greet and accompany thetn




THE BETROTHED.                   179
for a little way on their journey, Eveline had occasion
to adlnire his stlperiority, both of sense and expression,
antd to remnark the attention and delrence with whichll
his wordls were listened to by men too  ighl in rank, and
too proud, readily to admit any pre-eminence that was
not  tbunded on acknowledged merit.  Th'le regard of
wvomen is generally much influenced  by the estimation
which an individulal maintains in the opinion of men; and
Eveline, wlhen sle concluded her journey in the Benedictine nunnery in Gloucester, could not think without
respect upon the renowned warrior, and celebrated politician, whose acknowledged abilities appeared to place
himn above every one whomn she had seen approach him.
His wife, Eveline thought, (and she was not without ambition,) if relinquishing some of those qualities in a husband which are in youth most captivating to the femalle
imagination, must be still generally 1honoured and respected, and have contentment, if not romantic felicity,
within her reach.
CHAPTER XVI.
THF, Lady Eveline remained nearly fmor monthis with
her aunt, the Abbess of tile Benedictine nunnery, under
whose auspices the Constable of Chester saw his suit
advance and prosper, as it would probably have done
und(er that of tile deceased Raym-ond Berenger lier
mother.  It is probable, however, that, but flor tile supposed vision of the Virgin, and the vow of gratitude whlich
that supposed vision had called forth, tile natural dislike of
so young a person to a matcll so unequal in years,,nilght
have effectually opposed his success.  indeed Eveline,
while lionouring the Constable's virtues, doing justice to
his high character, and admirinpg his talents, could nevet
altogether divest herself of a secret fear of him, which,




180        TALES OF. TIHE CRUSADERS.
while it prevented her from expressing any direct dis
approbation of his addresses, caused her sometimes t(
shudder, she scarce knew why, at the idea of theii
secoming successful.
The ominous words, " betraying and betrayed," would
then occur to her memory; and when her aunt (the period of the deepest mourning being elapsed) had fixed a
day for her betrothal, she looked forward to it with a
feeling of terror, for which she was unable to account to
herself, and which, as well as the particulars of' her
dream, she concealed even from Father Aldrovand in
the hours of confession.  It was not aversion to the
Constable-it was far less preference to any other suitor
-it was one of those instinctive movements and emotions
by which Nature seems to warn us of approaching danger, though furnishing no information respecting its nature, and suggesting no means of escaping from it.
So strong were these intervals of apprehension, that
if they had been seconded by the remonstrances of
Rose Flammock, as formerly, they might perhaps have
led to Eveline's even yet forming some resolution unfavourable to the suit of the Constable.  But, still more
zealous for her lady's honour than even for her happiness,
Rose had strictly forborne every effort which could affect
Eveline's purpose, when she had once expressed her
approbation of De Lacy's addresses; and whatever she
thought or anticipated concerning the proposed marriage, she seemed from that moment to consider it as an
event which must necessarily take place.
De Lacy himself, as he learned more intimately to
know the merit of the prize which he was desirous of
possessing, looked forward with different feelings towards
the union, than those with which he had first proposed
the measure to Raymond Berenger.  It was then a mere
match of interest and convenience, which had occurred
to the mind of a proud and politic feudal lord, as the
best mode of consolidating the power and perpetuatinpg
the line of his family.  Nor did even the splendour ci
Eveline's beaut  mnake that impression uplon De Lacy,




THE BETROTHED.                 18J
which it was calculated to do on the fiery and impassicn
ed chivalry of the age.  He was past that per;od oi
life when the wise are captivated by outward form, and
might have said with truth, as well as with discretion,
that he could have wished his beautiful bride several
years older, and possessed of a more moderate portion
of personal charms, in order to have rendered.the match
more fitted for his own age and disposition. This stoicism, however, vanished, wvhen, on repeated interviews
with his destined bride, he found that she was indeed inexperienced in life, but desirous to be guided by superior
wisdom; and that, although gifted with high spirit, and
a disposition which began to recover its natural elastic
gaiety, she was gentle, docile, and, above all, endowed
with a firmness of principle, which seemed to give assurance that she would tread uprightly, and without spot,
the slippery paths in which youth, rank, and beauty, are
doomed to move.
As feelings of a warmer and more impassioned kind
towards Eveline began to glow in De Lacy's bosom,
his engagements as a crusader became more and more
burdensome to him. The Benedictine Abbess, the natural guardian of Eveline's happiness, added to these
feelings by her reasoning and remonstrances. Although
a nun and a devotee, she held in reverence the holy state
of matrimony, and comprehended so much of it as to be
aware, that its important purposes could not be accomplished while the whole continent of Europe was interposed betwixt the married pair; for as to a hint from the
Constable, that his young spouse might accompany him
into the dangerous and dissolute precincts of the Crusader's camp, the good lady crossed herself with horror
at the proposal, and never permitted it to be a second
time mentioned in her presence.
It was not, however, uncommon for kings, princes, and,ther persons of high consequence, who had taken utpon
them the vow to rescue Jerusalem, to obtain delays, and
even a total remission of their engagement, by proper ap9  vo:,. I.




182         TALES OF TIHE CRUSADERS.
plicariort to the Church of Rome.  The Constable was
sure to possess the full advantage of his sovereign's,,terest and countenance, in seeking permission to remain
in England, for lhe was the noble to whose valour and
policy Henry had chiefly intrusted the defence of the
disorderly Welch marches; and it was by no means
with his gopd-will that so useful a subject had ever assumed the cross.
It was settled, therefore, in private betwixt the Abbess
and the Constable, that the latter should solicit at Rome,
and with the Pope's Legate in England, a remission ol
his vow for at least two years; a favour which it was
thought could scarce be refiused to one of his wealth and
influence, backed as it was with the most liberal offers of
assistance towards the redemption of the Holy Land.
His offers were indeed munificent; for lie proposed, it
his own personal attendance were dispensed with, to send
an hlundred lances at his own cost, each lance accompa.nied by two squires, three archers, and a varlet or horseboy; being double the retinue by which his own person
was to have been accompanied.  He offered besides to
deposit the sum of two thousand bezants to the general
expenses of the expedition, to surrender to the use of
thle Christian armament those equipped vessels whicl he
had provided, and which even now awaited the embarkation of himself and his followers.
Yet, w!ile makling these magnificent proffers, the Constable could not help feeling they would be inadequate
to the expectations of the rigid prelate Baldwin, who,
as lie had himself preached the crusade, and broughlt
the Constable and many others into that holy engagement, must needs see with displeasure the work of hlis
eloq!uence endangered, by the retreat of so important an
associlate fiom his favourLite enterprise.  To soften, tllelretore, h)is disappointment as mucll as possible, the C6onot.iable ofrelrd to the Arclhbishop, that, in thle event of his
hlbtailiing license to remain in Britain, his forces should
be led by his nepllew, Damian Lacy, already renownedl
for hij early feats of chivalry, the present hope of his




THE  BETOTIE.                     1 83
house, and, failing heirs of his own body, its f...ture hea d
nld stupport.
The Constable  took the most prudent mretllod  ot
comrnunicating this proposal to the Archbishop ijaldwi:.:..
throughl   a mutiual friiend, on whose good offices lhe cc ul
depend, and whose interest withl the Prelate was regar,;ed as great.  But notwitllstanding the splendour of ti,e
pro)osal, the Prelate heard it with sullen and obsti:.ltte
silence, and referred for answer to a personal conference
withl the Constable at an appointed day, when concerns
of the church would call the Archbishop to the city of
Gloucester.  The report of the mediator was such as induced the Constable to expect a severe struggle with the
proud and powerful churchman; but, himself' proud and
powerfid, and backed by the favour of his sovereign, he
did not expect to be foiled in the contest.
The necessity that thlis point should  be previously
adjusted, as well as the recent loss of Eveline's father.
gave an air of privacy to De Lacy's courtship, and prevented its being signalized by tournaments and feats of
Inilitary skill, in  v which he would have been otherwise
desirous to display his address in  the  eyes of his
mistress.  The rules of the convent prevented his (givillg
entertainments of dancing, music, or other more pacific
revels; and although the Constable displayed his affection by the most splendid gifts to his future bride and her
attendants, the whole affair, in the opinion of the experienced Dame Gillian, proceeded more with the solermnity of a funeral, than the light pace of an approaching
bridal.
The bride herself felt something of thlis, and thought
occasionally it might- have been lightened by the visits
of young Damian, in whose age, so nearly corresponding to her own, she mighlt have expected some relief firom
the formal courtship of his graver uncle.  But he calne
not; and from what the Constable said concerning him.
she was led to imagine that the relations had, for a time
at least, exchanged occupations and character.   The
el~!er De Lacy continued, indeed, in nominal orservance




184        TALES OF THE CRtUSADERS.
of his vow, to dwell in a pavilion by the gates ol
Gloucester; but he seldom  donned his armour, substituted costly damask and silk for his war-worn shamoy
doublet, and affected at his advanced time of life more
gaiety of attire than his contemporaries remembered as
distinguishing his early youth.  His nephew, on the contrary, resided almost constantly on the marches of Wales,
occupied in settling by prudence, or subduing by main
force, the various disturbances by which these provinces
were continually agitated; and Eveline learned with surprise, that it was with difficulty his uncle haol prevailed on
him to be present at the ceremony of their being betrothed
to each other, or, as the Normans entitled the ceremony,
their fiancailles. This engagement, which preceded the
actual marriage for a space more or less, according to
circumstances, was usually celebrated with a solemnity
corresponding to the rank of the contracting parties.
The constable added, with expressions of regret, that
Damian gave himself too little rest, considering his carly
youth, slept too little, and indulged in too restless a disposition-that his health was suffering-and that a learn
ed Jewish leech,. whose opinion had been taken, had
given his advice that the warmth of a more genial climate was necessary to restore his constitution to its
general and natural vigour.
Eveline heard this with much regret, for she remembered Damian as the angel of good tidings, who first
brought her news of deliverance from the forces of the
Welch; and the occasions on which they had met,
though mournful, brought a sort of pleasure in recollection, so gentle had been the youth's deportment, and so
consoling his expressions of sympathy.  She wished she
could see him, that she might herself judge of the nature of his illness; for, like other damsels of that age,
she was not entirely ignorant of the art of healing, and
had been taught by Father Aldrovand, himself no mean
physician, bow to extract healing essences from plants
and herbs gathered under planetary hours.  She thought
it possi l)]e that her talents in this art, slight as hey ivwere,




THE BETROT1I'ED.                185
might perhaps be of service to one already lher frict-i
and liberator, and soon about to become her very near
relation.
It was therefore with a sensation of pleasule, mingled
with some confusion, (at the idea, doubtless, of assmllning
the part of' medical adviser to so young a patilent,) that
one evening, while the convent was assemblled ab)out
some business of their chapter, she heard Gillian announce that the kinsmlan of the Lord Constable desired
to speak witll lher.  She snatched up the veil, whicl slle
wore in comnpliance with the customs of the ihouse, and
hastily descended to the parlour, commanding the attendance of Gillian, who, nevertheless, did not think propex
to obey the signal.
When she entered the apartment, a man whom she had
never seen before advanced, kneeled on one knee, and,
taking up the hem of her veil, saluted it with an air of
the most profound respect.  She stepped back, surprised
and alarmed, although there was nothing in the appearance of the stranger to justify her apprehension.   He
seemed to be about thirty years of age, tall of stature,
and bearing a noble though wasted form, and a countenance on which disease, or perhaps youthful indulgence had anticipated  the traces of age.   His de-:neanour seemned coutrteous and respectful, even in a
degree which approached to excess.  He observed Eveline's surprise, and said, in a tone of pride, mingled with
emotion, " I fear that I have been mistaken, and that
mny visit is regarded as an unwelcome intrusion."
"Arise, sir," answered Eveline, " and let me know
your name and business.  I was summoned to a kinsman
of the Constable of Chester."
"And you expected the stripling Damian," answered the stranger.   " But the match with vhich
England  rings will connect you with others of the
house besides that young person; and armongst these,
with the luckless Randal de Lacy.  Perhaps," continued he, " the fair Eveline Berenger may not even
have heard his namre breathed by his more fortanate
VOI.. 1.




I1Pi86      T-iLES OF THE CRUSADERS.
iinsman —nore fortunate in every respect, but most for-..unate't his present prospects.'
Ti:s compliment wvas uccompanied bly a detp reverence, an i Eveline stood mucll enmbarrassed how to relply
to his civilities; for although she now well remembered
to hlave heard this Randal slightly mentioned by the. Constab'le when speaking of his fanriily, it was in terms which
implied that there was no good understanding betwixt
thein.   Slle therefore only returned  his courtesy by
general thanks for the honour of his visit, trusting lie
would then retire; but suchll  as not his purplose.
"' I comprehlend," he said, " from the coldness wvith
whlich the Lady Eveline Berenger receives me, that
wllat she has heard of me fioln my kinsman, (if indeed
lie thought me worthy of being mentioned to her at all,)
has been, to say the least, unfavourable.  And yet my
nane once stood as high in fields and courts, as that of
the Constable; nor is it aughlt more disgracefull than
wvhat is indeed often esteemed the Nworst of disgracespoverty, which prevents my still aspiring to pllaces of honour and fname.  If my youthful follies have been numerous, I have paid for them by the loss of my fortune, and
the degradation of my condition; and therein my ha ppy
kinsman might, if he pleased, do me some aid-I mean
not with his purse or estate; for, poor as I am, I would
not live on alms extorted firom the reluctant hand of an
estranged friend; but his countenance would put him to,io cost, and, in so far, I might expect some favour."
" In that my Lord Constable," said Eveline, " must
judge for himself.  I have-as yet, at least-no right to
interfere in his family affairs; and if 1 should ever have
such right, it will well become me to be cautious how I
use it."
" It is prudently answered," replied Randal; " but
whdat I ask of you is merely, that you, in your gentleness,
would please to convey to i ty cousin a suit, which I find
it hard to bring my ruder 1 ongue to titter with suflicient
submission.  The usurers whose claims have eaten like a
eanker inte my means, now menace  tilme with a dun



THE BETROTHED.                    IElI;eon; a threat which they dared not mutter, far less attempt to execute, were it not that they see me an outcast,
unprotected by the natural head of' my family, and regard me rather as they would sone un-lriended vagrant,
than as a descendant of the powverfli  House of Lacy."
" It is a sad necessity," replied Eveline; " but I see
not llow 1 can help you in such extremity."
"Easily," replied Randal de Lacy.  " The day of
your betrothal is fixed, as I hear reported; and it is
your right to select what witnesses you please to the
solemnity, which may the saints bless! To every one
but myself, presence or absence on that occasion is a matter of mere ceremony-to me it is almost life or death.
So am I situated, thlat the marked instance of slight or
contempt, implied by my exclusion fr'om this meeting of
our family, will be held for the signal of my final expulsion from the house of the De Lacys, and for a thousand
blood-hounds to assail me without mercy or forbearance,
whom, cowards as they are, even the slightest show of
countenance from my powerful kinsman would compel
to stand at bay.  But why should I occupy your time
in talking thus?-Farewell, madam-be happy —and do
not think of me the more harshly, that for a few minutes
I have broken the tenor of your happy thoughts, by forcing my misfortunes on your notice.'"' Stay, sir," said Eveline, affected by the tone and
manner of the noble suppliant; " you shall not have it
to say that you have told your distress to Eveline Berenger, without receiving such aid as is in her power to
give.  I will mention your request to the Constable of
Chester."
" You must do more, if you really mean to assist me,"
said Randal de Lacy, " you must make tliat reltquest your
own.  You do not knowv,' said he, continlling to bend
on ller a fixed and expressive look, " llov l11(rd it is to
chlange tie fixed purp)ose of a De Lacy — a twelve:mlonth
hIence you will probably be better acquainted wit!l tile irlm
texture of our resolutions.  1B1ut, at present, what can
withstand your wish should you deign to express it ~"




iS8S         TALIES OF THE CRUSADERlS'Your suit, sir, slall not be lost for iwant;f my adPancing it with my good word and good wishes," replied'Eveline; " but you Imust be well aware that its success
or failure must rest with the Constable himselL:"
Randal de Lacy took his leave with the same air of
deep reverence which had marked his entrance; only
that, as he then saluted the skirt of Eveline's robe, lihe
now rendlered the same homage by touching her hand
with his lip.  She saw him depart with a mixtmure of emotionS, in which compassion was )predominant; although
in his complaints of the Constable's unkindness to him
there was something offensive, and his avowal of follies
and excess seenled uttered rather in the spirit of wounded pride, than in that of contrition.
When Eveline next saw the Constable, she told him
of the visit of Randal, and of his request, and strictly
observing his countenance while she spoke, she saw, that
at the first mention of his kinsman's name, a gleam ot
anger shot along  Ihis features.    He soon subdiued it,
lhowever, and, fixing his eyes on the ground, listened to
Eveline's detailed account of the visit, and her request
"' that Randal might be one of the invited witnesses to
their fiancailles."
The Constable paused for a moment, as if lie were
considering how to elude the solicitation.  At length he
replied, " You do not know for whom  you ask this, or
you would perhaps have forborne your request; neither
are you apprized of its full import, though my crafty
cousin well knows, that when I do him this grace which
he asks, I bind myself, as it were, in the eye of the world
once mIore-and it will be for the third tinie-to interfere
in his affairs, and place them on such a footing as mnay
aflbrd him tile means of re-establishing hlis fallen conse(1Uence, and repairing his numerlous errors."
" And wherefore not, my lord?" said the generous
Eveline.  " If lie has been ruined only through follies
e- is now- of' an age whllen these are no longer tem}nti;,
stlares; and it' his hleart and hand Le good, he may ytef
be all hlenoulr ttl the House of De Lacy."




TIHE BETROT'IIED.                  ISP
The Constable shook his head.  " He hath indeed."
hie said,  a heart and hand fit for service, God knowTeth
whether in good or evil.  But never shall it be said that
you, my fair Eveline, made request of Hugh de Lacy,
which he was not to his uttermost willing to comply
w-th. Randal shall attend at our fJiancailles;-there
is indeed the more cause for his attendance, as I somewhat fear we may lack that of our valued nephew Damianll, whose malady rather increases than declines, and, as
I hear, with strange symptoms of unwonted disturbance
of mind and starts of temper, to which the youth bath
not hitherto been subject."
CHAPTER XVII.
Ring out the merry bells, the bride approaches.
The blush upon her cheek hath shamed the morning,
For that is dawning palely. Grant, good saints,
These, clouds betoken nought of evil omen.
Old Play.
THE day of the fiancailles, or espousals, was now ap[)roaching; and it seems that neither the profession of
the Abbess, nor her practice at least, were so rigid as to
prevent her selecting the great parlour of the convent foi
that holy rite, although necessarily introducing many
male guests within those vestal precincts, and notwith
standing that the rite itself was the preliminary to a state
which the inmates of the cloister had renounced forever.
The Abbess's Norman pride of birth, and the real interest.which she took in her niece's.advancement, overcame all scruples; and the venerable mother might be
seen in unwonted bustle, now  giving orders to the gardener for decking the apartment with flowers-now to her
ceilaress, hler precentrix, and the lay-sisters of the kitchen, for prepa -'ing a splnridid banquAet, mingling her corn



196t         TALES OF T'I'HE CRUSADERS.
mnands on these worldly subjects with ani occasino;al ejaculatipn on their vanity and worthlessness. aindl ever y now
and then converting the busy and a       nxious looks which she
thrrew upon her preparations into a solemn tur'ning upward
of eyeVs and folding of ihands, as one who sighed over
the mre eartllly pomp which she took such trouble in superintend(ing.  At another time the good lady might have
been seen in close consultation with Father Aldrovand
upon thle cerernlonial, civil and religious, whllich was to acconpa.l y a solemnity' of such consequence to her fahmily.
l41c.anwl:le the reins of. discipline, although relaxed
fi)r a s  asorn, were not entirely thrown loose.'T]e
Cltll',ourt of th.e convent was indeed for the time opened Ifr flie receiptiun of the male sex; but the younger
ss.rprs and novices of the house being carefully secluded
in'.1he more inluer apartments of tlle extensive building,
t;der t.he irnmmediate eye of a grim old nun, or, as thle
co:venrual, rule designed her, an ancient, sad, and virtucats pterso,o  tcrmed Mistress of the Novices, were not
permitted to pollute their eyes by looking on waving
piulines and rustling mantles.  A few sisters, indeed, of
die Abbess's own standing, were  left at liberty. being
such goods as it was thought could niot, in shopman's
phrase, take harm from the air, and which are therefore
left 1ying loose on the counter.  These antiquated dames
went mumping about with much affected indifference,
a.nd a great deal of real curiosity, endeavouring indirectly to get information concerning names, and dresses, and
X,:-corations, without daring to show such interest in these
vanities as actual questions on the subject mnight have
implied.
A stout band of the Constable's spearmen guarded the
gate of thle nunnery, admittinig withiin tihe hallowved precinct the few only who w\ere to be present at tle solelnity,
wvitll their principal attendants; and wIile tlie former
were ashlered wvitl all due ceremony into thle apartmlents
iressedtl out for the occasion, th}e attendants, aIltlougtlh
detained in the outer court, were liberally sil)plpied w\ith!
refreshments of tile most substantial kind; and had thle




THE BETROTHED.                   191
3musement, so dear to the menial classes, of examining
and criticising their masters and their mistresses, as tliey
passed into the interior apartments prepared for their reeption.
Amongst the domestics who were thus employed were
old Raoul the huntsman and his jolly dame;-he gay
and glorious, in a new cassock of green velvet, she gracious and comely, in a kirtle of yellow silk, fiinged with
minivair, and that at no mean cost, were equally busied
in beholding the gay spectacle.   The most inveterate
wars have their occasional terms of truce; the most bitter and boisterous weather its hours of warlnth and of
calmnlless; and so was it with tile matrimonial horizon of;his amiable pair, which, usually cloudy, had now  for
b:ief space cleared up.   The splendour of their new
appllarel, the mirtli of the spectacle around them, with the
aid, perhaps, of a bowl of muscadine quaffed by Raoul,
and a cup of hippocras sipped by his vife, had rendered
themn rather more agreeable in each other's eyes than
was their wont l; good cheer being in such cases as oil is
to a rusty lock, the means of making those valves move
smoothll  and glibly, which otherwise work not together
at all, or by shrieks and groans express their reluctance
to move in union.  The pair had stuck themselves into
a kind of niche, three or four steps from  the ground,
which contained a small stone bench, whence their curious eyes could scrutinize with advantage every guest
who entered the court.
Thus placed, and in their present state of temporary
concord, Raoul with his frosty visage formed no unapt
representative of January, tile bitter father of tile year,
and though Gillian was past the delicate bloom of youtliful'tMay, yet the melting fire of a full black eye, and the
genial glow of a ripe and crimson cheek, made her a
lively type of the fiuitfill and jovial ArLugust.  Dame
Gillian used to malke it hler boast, that she could please
every body wvith her gossip, when she chose it, fiomn
i.vmond Berenger down to Robin the horse-boy; and
Il1, a good housewife, wvho to keep her hand in use.




192        TALLS OF'THE CRUSADERS,
will sometimes even condescend to dress a dish for her
husband's sole eating, she now thought proper to practise
her powers of pleasing on old Raoul, fairly conquering,
In her successful sallies of mirth and satire, not only his
cynical temperament towards all human kind, but his
peculiar and special disposition to be testy with his spouse.
Her jokes, such as they were, and the coquetry with
which they were enforced, had such an effect on this
Timon of the woods, that he curled up his cynical nose,
displayed his few straggling teeth like a cur about to bite,
broke out into a barking laugh, which was more like the
cry of one of his own hounds-stopped short in the ex..
plosion, as if he had suddenly recollected that it was
out of character; yet, ere lie resumned his acrimonious,gravity, shot such a glance at Gillian as made his nutcracker jaws, pinched eyes, and convolved nose, bear
no small resemblance to one of those fantastic faces which
decorate the upper end of old bass-viols.
"; Is not this better than laying your dog-leash on youi
loving wife, as if she were a brach of the kennel?" said
Auglust to January.
" In troth is it," answered January, in a frost-bitten
tone;-" and so it is also better than doing the brachtricks which bring the leash into exercise."'" Humph!" said Gillian, in the tone of one who
thought her husband's proposition might bear being disputed; but instantly changing the note to that of tender
complaint, " Ah! Raoul," she said, " do you not remember how you once beat me because our late lord, —
Our Lady assoil him! —took my crimson breast-knot for
a peony rose?"
"Ay, ay," said the huntsman; " I remember our old
master would make such mistakes-Our Lady assoilzie
him! as you say-The best hound will utint counter."' And how-could you think, dearest Raoul, to let the
wife of thy bosom go so long without a new kirtle?" said
his helpmrate.
"' Why, thou hast got one firom  oulr young lady that
nmighlt serve a countess," said Raoul, his concord jarred




THE BETRO'riLD.                    19.3
by her touching this chord —" how many kirtles would'sl
thou have?"
Only two, kind Raoul; just that folk may not count
tlheir children's age by the date of Dame Gillian's last'IeW gown."
" Well, well-it is hard that a man cannot be in good
humour once and away without being made to pay for
it.  But thou shalt have a new  kirtle at Michaelmas,
when 1 sell the bucks'lhides for the season.  The very
antlers should bring a good penny this year."' Ay, ay,)) said Gillian; "I ever tell tllee, husband,
tlhe horns would be worth the hide in a fair market."
Raoul turned  briskly round as if a wasp had stung
him, and there is no guessing what his reply might have
been to, this seemingly innocent observation, had not a
gallunt horselnan at tliat instant entered the court, and,
dismounting like the others, gave his horse to the charge
of a squire, or equerry, whose attire blazed with eni-.
broidery.
" By Saint Hubert, a proper horseman, and a destrier
for anl earl," said Raoul; " and my Lord Constable's
liveries withal-yet, I know not the gallant."
"But I do," said Gillian; " it is Randal De Lacy,
the Constable's kinsman, and as good a man as ever came
of the name!"
" Oh! by Saint Hubert, I have heard of him-men
say lhe is a reveller, and a jangler, and a waster of his
goods."
"' Men lie now and then," said Gillian dryly.
I' And women also," replied.Raoul;-" why, methinaks he winked on thee just now."`' rj t right eye of-thine saw never true since our
goodr iord —.Sanut i;Iary rest him!-flung a cup of wine
in 1hy face, for pres.sirng over boldly into his withdrawv-;'       mar d el,  said Rlaol, as if he heard her not, " that
ondc r Lrut.i er crones hitier.  I have heard that le is
V /    i.




(1 941       TALES OF THE CIIUSADERS.
suspected to have attempted the Constable's life, and
that they have not spoken together for five years.": He comes on my young lady's invitation, and t lal
I know full wxell," said Dame Gillian; " and lie is less
like to do the Constable wvrong thlan to have wrong?at
lhis hand, poor gentleman, as indeed lie has hlad enough
of that aleacly."
" And who told thee so?" said Raoul bitterly.
" No matter, it was one who knew  all about it vcry
well," said thle dame, who began to fear that, in displaying her triumph of superior information, she had been
rathler over-colnmunicutive.' It must have been the devil, or Randal himself,"
said Racul, " fbr no other mouth is large enough for
such a lie.-]But hark ye, Dame Gillian, who is he that
presses forward next, like a man that scarce sees how
lie goes?"
"Even your angel of grace, my young Squire Damian," said Dame Gillian.
" It is impossible!" answered Raoul-" Call me blind
if thou wilt; but I have never seen  manl so changed
in a few weeks-and his attire is flung on him so wildly
as if he wore a hlorse-cloth round him instead of a mantle-What can ail the youth?-he has made a dead
pause at the door, as if he saw something on the threshold
that debarred his entrance.-Saint Hubert, but lie looks
as if lie were elf-stricken!"
" You ever thought him such a treasure!" said Gillian;
" mlld now look at him  as he stands by the side of a
real gentleman, how  lie stares and trembles as if lihe
were distraught."'I will speak to Ihim;" said. Raoul, forgetting  his.ameness, and( springing from  his elev.tc-J station-"  I
vill speak to him; and, if lhe be uIMwell:  i have my lancets and fleams to bleed man as  e'll a;s "uSe."
" And a fit physician for sUch l a    llt)  mutieltet(A
Gillian,-'L a dog-leecl  for;a d(Ie;imv  ra c!man l, i.at
neither krnows his own disease  lor the way (U, cure it."




TIHtE BETRuo'.IIEDl.              1 95
MTeanwl:ile tlle old huntsman ma(le his way towar(ls
tlie entrance, befbre whicll Damian relmainied standlilg,
in apl}parent uncertainty wlietiler lle shouldl enter or not,
regardless of the crowd around, and at the sam-e time
att.iacting their attention by the singularity of his depo rtmnent.
Raoul had a private regard for Damian; for whlich,
perllaps, it was a chief reason, thlat of late his wif'e had
been in tlhe hlabit of speaking of' hlim in a tone more disrespectfuil than she usually apiplied to hlanclsome young
men.  Besides, lie understood tile youth was a second
Sir Tristreln in sylvan sports by -wood and river, and
there needed no Inore to fetter Rlaoul's soul to hin with
bands of steel.  lie saw with great concern hIis conduct
attract general notice, mixed with some ridicule.
"He stands,") said tile town-jester, who hlad crowded
into thle gay thron~ " before the gate, like Balaarn's ass
in thie M.ystery, wlhen the animnal sees so much more than
can be seen by any one else."
A cut from Raoul's ready leash rewarded the felicity
of thiis application, and sent the fool howling off to seek
a more favourable audience for his pleasantry.  At the
same tilne Raoul pressed up to Damnian, and with an
earnestness very different fomrn his usual dry causticity
of manner, beggeed him  for God's sake not to make himself the general spectacle, by standing there as if the devil
sal on the door-way, but either to enter, or, what might
be as becoming, to retire, and make himself more fit in
apparel for attending on a solemnity so nearly concerning his house.
" And what ails my apparel, old man?" said Da.mian, turning sternly on the huntsman, as one who has
been hastily and uncivilly roused from a reverie.
1 Onlly, with respect to your valour,"  answered the
huntsman, " men do not usually put old  mantles over
newv doiiublets; and methinks, with submission, tlhat of
yours neither accords with your dress, nor is fitted for
this noble presence."




196         IALES OF THE CRUSADERs-.
"Thou art a fool!" answered Damian, " and as greer,
in wit as grey in years.   Know you not that in tlhese
days the young and old consort together —contract together-wed together? and should we take more care to
malke our apparel consistent thlan our actions?"
"For God's sake, my  lord," said Raoul, " forbear
these wild and dangerous words! they may be lleard by
other ears than mine, and construed by worse interpreters.   There may be here those wllo will pretend to
track mischief from light words, as I would find a buck
fiom his frayings.   Your cheek is pale, mny lord, your
eye is blood-shot; for Heaven's sake retire!"'" I will not retire," said Damian, with yet more distemperature of manner, " till I have seen the Lady Eveline."
" For the sake of all the saints," ejaculated Raoul,
"' not nowV!-You will do my lady incredible injury by
forcing yourself into her presence in this condition."
" Do you think so?" said Damian, the remark seeming to operate as a sedative which enabled himin to collect his scattered tlouglhts-" Do you really think so?
-1 thoug-it that to have, looked upon her once more —
but no-you are in the right, old man."'
He turned from the door as if to withdraw, but ere he
could accomplish his purpose, he turned yet more pale
than before, staggered, and fell on the pavement ere
Raoul could afford him his support, useless as that might
have proved.  Those who raised him were surprised to
observe that his garments were soiled with blood, and
that the stains upon his cloak, which had been criticised
by Raoul, were of the same complexion.   A  gravelooking personage, wrapped in a sad-coloured mantle,
camne forth from the crowd.
1" I knew how it would be," he said; " I made venesection this morning, and commanded repose and sleep
according to the aphorisms of Hippocrates; but if young
ge0ntlemen will neglect the ordinance of their pi ysiciau,
Mnedicine will avenge herself.  It is impossible that my




THE BETROTHE1D                   9'
ban(lage or ligature, knit by these fingers, should have
started, but to avenge the neglect of the precepts of art."
" What means this prate?' said the voice of the Constable, before which all others were silent.  He hlad
been summoned forth just as the rite of espousal oi
betrothing was concluded, on the confusion occasioned
by Damian's situation, and now sternly commanded the
physician to replace the bandages which had slipped from
his nephew's arm, himself assisting in the task of supporting the patient, with the anxious and deeply agitated
feelings of one who saw a near and justly valued relative
-as yet, the heir of his fame and family-stretched
before him in a condition so dangerous.
But the griefs of the powerful and the fortunate are
often mingled with the impatience of interrupted prosperity.  " What means this?" he demanded sternly of
the leech.  " I sent you this morning to attend my nephew on~ the first tidings of his illness, and commanded that
he should make no attempt to be present on this day's
solemnity, yet I find him in this state, and in this place."
"So please your lordship," replied the leech, with a
conscious self-importance, which even the presence of the
Constable could not subdue-" Curatio est canonica non
coacta; which signifieth, my lord, that the physician
acteth his cure by rules of art and science-by advice
and prescription, but not by force or violence upon the
patient, who cannot be at all benefited unless he be vol.
untarily amenable to the orders of his medicum."
" Tell me not of your jargon," said De Lacy;  i' if
my nephew was light-headed enough to attempt to come
hither in the heat of a delirious distemper, you should
have had sense to prevent him, had it been by actual
force."
"It m,,nay be," said Randal de Lacy, joining the crowd,
who, forgetting the cause which had brought thein togetlher, were now assembled about Damian, " that more powerful was the magnet which drew our kii sman hither, than
augh the leech could do to withhold him."
VOL. 1.




1i9         TALES OF TifE  CRUSADERS.
The Constable, still busied about his nephew, looked
up as Ranidal spoke, and when he was done, asked, wifil
fortnml coldness o(f manner, " Ha, fair kinsmlan, of what
Ilnacget (do you speak?"
"Surtely of' your nephew's love and regard to your
lordsilip,"  answered Rlandal, " which, not to mention
his respect for thle Lady Eveline, must have compelled
hini lhitlier, if his limbs Nwere able to bear him.-And
here tile bride comes, 1 think, in charity, to thank him
for hlls zeal."
"What unhappy case is this?" said lhe Lady Eveline, pressing forward, much disordered witll the intelligence of Damnian's danger, which llad been suddenly
conve-yed to her.  "Is there nothing in whlich my poor
service nmay avail?"
"Nothing, lady," said tlle Constable, rising fiomin besidle his neplhew, and taking lher hand;  "your kindness
is here mistimed.  This motley assembly, this unseeming confuilsion, become not your presence.'"
"Unless it could be helpful, my lord," said Eveline,
eagerly.  "It is your nephew  wlho is in danger-my,leliverer —one of Iny deliverers, I would say."
"' He is fitly attended by his chirurgeon," said the
Constable, leading back hlis reluctant bride into the convent. while the medical attendant triumphantly exclaimed,
" Well judgeth my Lord Constable, to withdraw his
noble lady from  the host of petticoated empirics, who,
like so many Amazons, break in upon and deranige the
regtlar course of physical practice, with their letulant
prognostics, their rash recipes, their mithridate, their
febrifuges, their amulets, and their charms.,Well speakethl the Efthnic poet,' No! audlet, nisi qua didicit, dare queod medicorum est;
Promlitaint medici —tractant fabrilia fabri.' "
A.s he repeated these lines withl much emphasis, the
doctor permitted his patient's arm to drop fiom rn  is hand,
that he might aid the cadence with a flourish of his'wn    " There," said he to the spectators  "; is what




THE BETRITHEOD-)-                  1 96
none of you understand —no, by Saint Luke, ior the
Constable himself."'" But he knows how to whip in a hound that babbles
when he should be busy," said Raoul; and, silenced
ly this hint, the chirurgeon betook hilnself to his proocr duty of superintending the removal of young Damian to an apartmnent in the neighbouring street, where the
symptoms of his disorder seemed rather to increase than
jiminish, and speedily required all the skill and attention
which the leech could bestow.
Tihe subscription of the contract of marriage had, as
already noticed, been just concluded, when the company
assemnbled on the occasion were interrupted by the news
c-f Damian's illness.  When the Constable led his bride
erom the court-yard into the apartment where the cornPany was assembled, there was discomposure and uneasiness on the countenance of both; and it was not a little
increased by the bride pulling lher hand hastily from thle
hold of the bridegroom, on observling tlhat the latter was
stainedi with recent blood, atid lhad in tluth left the saine
stamp uplon her own.  Witli a faint exclamation slle
showed the marks to Rose, sayillg, at tile saime  tiie,
"What bodes this?-Is tl)is the revetnge of the 13loodyfilnger alreadty commencill?"
" It'bodes nothing, my dearest lady," said Rose-' it is our own fears that are prop}llets, not those trifles
wllich we take for alttnlry.    For God's sake, speak to
my lord f! He is surrprised at yotlr apitation."
" L,et hlim ask mle tile cause  himllsel;,"' saild'veline;' fitter it shlould be told at his biddinlg, tlhan be offered by
ne unrasled."
Tl1ie Constable, while hlis bride stood thlus convercing
wviti ler maiden, hlad also observed, thlat in tiis anxiety to
assist lils nepllew, he llad  transferred part of hIis blood
fi'oll Ills ownI lands to Eveline's dress~   He camct foirwarttl to al)ologize for what at such a moment seelledl tlm!ost ominous.'" Fair lady,'" said lhe, " thle blood( of a
true De Lacy can never bode aught but peace and happiness to you."7
773




200        TALES OF THE CRUSADI' RS
Eveline seemed as if she would have answered, rJui
coul(l not immediately find words.  The faithful Rose, al
the risk of incurring the censure of being over forward,
hastened to reply to the compliment.  " Every damsel
is bound to believe what you say, my noble lord," was
her answer, " knowing how readily that blood hath ever
flowed for protecting the distressed, and so lately for our
own relief."
"It is well spoken, little one," answered the Constable; " and the Lady Eveline is happy in a maiden
who so well knows how to speak when it is her own pleasure to be silent.-Come, lady," he added, " let us
l:ope this mishap of my kinsman is but like a sacrifice
to fortune, which permits not the brightest hour to pass
without sonie intervening shadow.  Damian, I trust, will
speedily recover; and be we mindful that the blooddrops which alarm you have been drawn by a friendly
steel, and are symptoms rather of recovery than of illness.-Come, dearest lady, your silence discourages our
friends, and wakes in them doubts whether we be sincere
in the welcome due to them.  Let me be your sewer,"
he said, and taking a silver ewer and napkin fiom the standing cupboarb, which was loaded with plate, he presented
them on his knee to his bride.
Exerting herself to shake off the alarm into which she
had been thrown by some supposed coincidence of the
present accident with the apparition at Baldringham,
Eveline, entering into her betrothed husband's humour,
was about to raise him from the ground, when she was
interrupted by the arrival of a hasty messenger, who,
coming into the room without ceremony, informed the
Constable that his nephew was so extremely ill, that ii
he hoped to see him  alive, it would be necessary he
should come to his lodgings instantly.
The Constable started up, made a brief adieu to Eveline and to the guests, who, dismayed at this new alnd
dlisastrous intelligence, were-preparing to disperse tllemelves, lwhen, as he advanced towards thie door, lie was
tnet 1, a Paritor or Summoner of the Fccleslastical




1' tiE  BE'TROTHED.                201
Court, whose official dress had procured hirn unob-tructed entrance into the precincts of the abbey.
"'Deus vobiscum," said the paritor; "1 would  know
which of this fair company is the Constable of Chester?"
"I am lie," answered the elder De Lacy; " but il
thy business be not the more hasty, I cannot now speak
xsitll thee-1 am bound on matters of life and death."
"I take all Clristian people to witness that 1 have
discllarged my duty," said the paritor, putting into the
hand of tile Constable a slip of parchment.' How is this, fellow?"  said the Constable in great
indignation-" fobr whom  or what does your master the
Archlbishop take  ile, that lhe deals with me in this uncoLurteous tasllion, citing ime to compear before hiil more
like a delinquent than a friend or a nobleman?"
M' MAy gracious lord," answered the paritor haughtily,
" is accountable to no one but our Holy Father the Pope
for tlhe exercise of thle power which is intrusted to him
by the canons of thlle Church.   Your lordship's answer
to my citation?"
" Is the Archbishop present in this city?"  said the
Constable, after a momenat's reflection —" I knew not of
his purp)ose to travel hither, still less of his ourpose to
exercise atlthority within these bounds."
" ly gracious  lord the Archbisllop," said the paritor,
" is blt now  arrive(l in tllis city, of which Ihe is metropolitan; and, besides, by llis apostolical commilssion, a
leroate a latere  ath leilanry jurllisdiction  thlroullglout all
Ellnland, as those may, fiild (whatsoever be their degree)
who;  lay dare to disobey his sumtnmons.'"
"Hark thlee, fellow," said  the  Constable, regarding
tile )paitor witll a grini and;lngry coluntenance;' were
it not for certain respects which I promllise tllce tlyv taw;ndy
hood liath little to d(o with, thiou wet. better Ilave swalloxved( thly citation, seal and all, tllan (leliveret it to ille wvit
tlhe addition of sulclh sauicy terlls.  Go lienlce, andt8   tell
yiouir inaster I will sae hinim witin tlle space of an holinr,
Iduiring whichl tilne   aim delaye d by tie necessity of attending a sick relation."




202          TALES OF THE CIUSADE.RS.
The paritor left the apartment with more hurnilit) ir his
manner than when he had entered, and left the assenmbled
guests to look upon each other in silence and dismay.
The reader cannot fail to remember how severely the
yoke of the Roman supremacy pressed both on the clergy and laity of England during the reign of Henry 11.
Even the attempt of that wise and courageous monarch
to make a stand for the independence of his tihrone in
the memorable case of Thomas a Becket, had such an
unhappy issue, that, like a.suppressed rebellion, it was
found  to add ne;v strength to the domination of the
church.  Since the submission of tlhe king in that illfated struggle, the voice of Rome had double potency
whenever  it was heard, and the boldest peers of England held it more wise to submit to her imperious dictates, than to provoke a spiritual censure wlicli had so
many secular consequences.  Hence the sligllt and scornful manner in whiichl the Constable was treated by thle
prelate Baldwin struck  a chill of astonishment into thle
assembly of friends whom  he had collected to witness!ins espousals; and as lie glanced 1his haughty eye around,
he saw that many whlo would have stood by him through
life and death in any other quarrel, had it even been withl
his sovereign, were turning rpale at the very tlhougllt of a
collision with the Churcil.  Embarrassed, anld at the same
tinme  incensed at their timidity, thle Constable liasted to
dismiss them, with tlhe general assurance tlhat all Nwould
be well —tlat his nephew's indisposition was a trifling
complaint, exaggerated by a conceited phllysician, and xby
his own  want' of care  and that the message of tlie
Archbishlop, so uncerenmoniously delivered, was lutt tlle
consequence of their mutual and  friendly  flaililarity,
whicll induced tlietn sometiines, for tile jest's sake, to
reverse or neglect the ordiillnry forms of illtercoturse. —
I f I wanted to speak with the lprelate Baldwin on express business and in hlaste, sucllh is tlle lhumility and indifference to form of that wortly p)illar of thle chutrchll
that I should not fear ofience," said the Constable," did




THE  BET''ROTHE D.               2i3
[ i.nd tile meanest horseboy in my troop to ask an audience of him."
So lie spoke-but  there was something in his coulitenanle which contradicted his words; and his friends
al.d relations retired from the splendid and joyfull ceremony of his espousals as friom a funeral feast, with anxious thouglhts and with downcast eyes.
Randal was the only person, who, having attentively
watched the whole progress of tile affair during tile evening, ventured to approach his cousin as he left thle house,
and asked him, 1" in the name of their re-united friendship, whether he had nothing to command him?" assuring him, with a look more expressive than his words, that
lhe would not find him cold in his service.
"I have nought which can exercise your zeal,-fair
cousin," replied the Constable, writh the air of one who
partly questioned the sl)eaker's sincerity; and the parting reverence with which lie accompanied llis words, lefl
Randal no pretext for continuing his attendance, as he
seemed to have designed.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Oh, were I seated higlh as my ambiition,
I'd place this naked foot on necks of monarchs!
Mllysterious Motler.
THE most anxious and unhappy moment of Hugo da
Lacy's life, was unquestionably tllat in wliich, by espousinrg Eveline with all civil and religious solemnity, hp
seemed to approach to what for some time he had considered as the prime object of hlis wishes.  He was assured of the early possession of a beautiful and amiable
wife, endowed with such advanltage of worldly goods, as
gratmfied his ambition as Wvell as his affections-Yet.'yen in this fortunate momer t, the horizonl darkened




204          TALES OF TIIE  CRUSADERS.
r'oulld him, in a manner whlich presaged nought but
storm annd calainity.  At his nephew's lodging lie learned1 that thle pulse of thle patient had risen, and his delirium
had auginentecd, and al! around lim  spoke very doubtfilly of  his chance of recovery, or surviving a crisis
w-llicll seelned speedily  approaching.   The Constable
stole torwards the door of tile apartment which his feelings per lnitted liini not to enter, and listened to the
raving which the fever gave rise to.   Nothing can be
more melancholy tlan to hear the mind at work concerning its ordinary occupations, whlen tile body is stretchied
in p!ain and danger ulpon the couch of severe sickness;
the contrast betwixt tile ordinary state of' health, its joys
or its labours, renders doubly affecting  the actual helplessness of the patient before whonm tlhese visions are
risiilg, and we feel a corresplon(ling  degree of com)passion for the sufflerer whose thougllts are wandering so far
ftirom  his real condition.
Th'le Coinstable felt this acutely as lie heard his nepliew
sllout the rwar-cry of thle family repeatedly, appearing,
by the words of commnand and direction whiich lhe uttered from time to timne, to be actively engaged ill leading
his men-at-armns against the Welch.  At another time
lhe muttered varioaus terms of the manege, of falconry,
andr of the chase-lie mentioned hlis uncle's name repeatedly on these occasions, as if thle idea of his kinsman
had been connected alike with Ilis martial encou-nters,
and witli his sports by wood anid river.   Other sounds
there were, which lie muttered so low as to be altogether undistinguisllable.
With a lheart even still more softened towards his
kinsman's sufferings from bearing the points on which his
mind wandered, the Constable twice applied hIis hand
to the latch of the door, in order to enter the bed-room,
and twice forbore, his eyes running faster with tears than
he chose should  be witnessed by the attendants.   At
length, relinquishing his purpose, he hastily left thle hlouse,
miounted his horse, and, followed only by four of his personal attndants, rode towards the palace of thiq Bishop,




THE BETROTITED                  205
where, as he learned from  public rumoui  the Arc.hprelate Baldwin had taken up his temporary residJence.
Tile train of riders and of led horses, of sumpter
mules, and of menials and attendants, both lay and ecclesiastical, which thronged around the gate of the Episcopal mansion, together with the gaping crowd of inhabitants who had gathered around, some to gaze upon
the splendid show, some to have the chance of receiving
the benediction of the Holy Prelate, was so great as to
impede the Constable's approach to the palace-door;
and when this obstacle was surmounted, he found another in the obstinacy of the Archbishop's attendants, who
permitted hirn not, though announced by name and title,
to cross the threshold of' the mansion, until they should
receive the express command of their master to that effect.
The Constable felt the full effect of this slighting reception.  He had dismounted from his horse in full confidence of being instantly admitted into the palace at
least, if not into the Prelate's presence; and as he now
stood on foot among the squires, grooms, and horse-boys
of the spiritual lord, he was so much disgusted, that
his first impulse was to re-mount his horse, and return
to his pavilion, pitched for the time before the city walls,
leaving it to the Bishop to seek him  there if he really
desired an interview.  But the necessity of conciliation
almost immediately rushed on his mind, and subdued the
first haughty impulse of his offended pride.  " If our
wise King," he said to himself, " hath held the stirrup
of one Prelate of Canterbury when living, and submitted
to the most degrading observances before his shrine
when dead, surely I need not be more scrupulous towards his priestly successor in the same overgrown authority."   Another thought, which he dared hardly to
acknowledge, recommended the same humble and submissive course.  He could not but feel that, in endeavouring to evade his vows as a crusader, he was incurring
some just censure from the Church; and he was not
unwilling to hope, that his present cold and scornful re
10  VOL. l.




206         TAIES OF TILE CRUSADERS~
ception on Balldwin's part, might be meant as a part o1
tile penance which his conscience informed him his condi(et was' ab)out to receive.
After a short interval, De Lacy was at length invited
to enter the palace of the Bishop of Gloucester. in
which lie was to in et the Primate' of England; but
there was more than one brief pause, in hall andanteroom, ere lie at length was admitted to Baldwin's presence.
The successor of the celebrated Becket had neitller
the extensive views, nor the aspiring spirit, of that redoubted personage; but, on the other hand, saint as the
latter had become, it may be questioned whether, in his
professions for the weal of Christendom, lie was hlalf so
sincere as was the present Archbishop.  Baldwin was,
in truth, a man well qualified to defend the powers which
the Cllurch had gained, though perhaps of a character
too sincere and candid to be active in extending tllem.
Tlhe advancement of the crusade was the chic! businless of his life, his success the principal cause of llis
pride; and, if the sense of possessing the povers of
elolquent persulasion, and skill to bend tlie minds of men
to his purpose, was blended with his religious zeal, still
the tenor of his life, and afterwards his death before
Ptolernais, showed that the liberation of the Holy Sepulchre froin the infidels was tlle unfeigned object of al
his exertions.  Hugo de Lacy well knew tllis; and the
difficu.lty of managing sichll a telllper apl)eared much
greater to liiin on the eve of tlle interview in whli'h the
atternmpt was to be made, than lie had slffered himself to
sti},plose when tlhe crisis was yet distant.
The Prelate, a man of a handsomne and stately forrm
u ith featulres rather too severe to be pleasing, receiveo
tte Conrstabie in all thle pol)i of ecclesiastical dignity.
le. was seated on a chair of oak, richly carved with Gethic ornam-ents, and placed above the rest of the floor unidie a niche  of the same workmansllip.  His dress w'.so
tlhe rich epliscopal robe, ornalnented witli costly einbroid-,'y, and fringed around the neck and cufls; it opelnec




THE BETRtOTIHED.                  201
fmrn the throat and in the middle, and showed an under
vestlnent of en'broidery, betwixt the folds of whicih, 1as
if imperfectly concealed, peeped tile close slirt of haircloth which the Prelate constantly wore under all his
pompous attire.  His mitre was placed beside him  on
an oaken table of the same workmanship with his throne,
agoainst which also rested his pastoral staff, representing
a shlepherd's crook  of the simplest forin, yet which
had iproved more powerful and fearful than lance or
scimitar,  when  wielded  by  the hand of Thomas a
Beeket.
A chaplain in a white surplice kneeled at a little distance before a desk, and read forth fiom an illuminated
volhille some portion of a theological treatise, in which
Baldwin appeared so deeply interested, that lie did nlot
senmi to notice thle entrance of tlle Constable, who, highly
displeased at this additional slight, stood on the floor ot
the hall, undetermined whlether to interrupt the reader
and address the Prelate at once, or to witlldraw xwithout saluting tlIin at all.  Ere lie had fbrmed a resolution,
the chaplal1in had arrived at some convenient pause in tile
lecture, wllere the Archbishop stopt himl with, Sat's est,
mi fli.
It was in vain that tile proud secular Baron strove to
conceal tile elbarrasslllelnt with whlich lie approached
the Prelate, whose atiitudle was plainly assumed for the
pulrpose of ilnpressint, Ibim  with awe and solicitude.  He
tried, indeed, to exhlibit a d(eineanlour of such ease as
might cllaracterize their old firiendship, or at least of' such
indifference  as migllt illfet tile possession  of pertfect
tranquillity; but lie failed in both, an(i his address
expressed mortified pride, mixed witll no ordinary degree of embarrasslnent.   The gellius of the C(atholic
Church was on such occasions sure to predominate ovei
tile haughtiest of the laity.
"1 perceive," said De Lacy, collecting his thoughts
and ashamed to find he had difficuty in doing so,-" 1
perceive thai an old friendship is here dissolved.   Meliitiks Hugo le Lacy mighlt have expected another tres



208         TAL,,ES OF TillH; CItUSADERS.
senger to sunmmon him to this reverend presence, and
that another welcome slhould wait him on his arrival."'lThe Arclbishop raised himself slowly in his seat, and
made a half inclination towards the Constable, who, by
an instinctive desire of conciliation, returned it lower than
lhe had intended, or than the scanty courtesy merited.
Tihe Prelate at the same time signing to his chaplain, the
latter arose to withdraw, and received permission in
tile phrase " Do veniam," retreated reverentially, without eitler turlnin-g his back or looking upwards, his eyes
fixed on the ground, htis hands still folded in his habit,
and crossed over his bosom.
When this nmute attendant had disappeared, the Prelate's brow becaine more open, yet retained a dark slade
of grave displeasure, and he replied to the address of
De Lacy, but still without rising from his seat.   "It
skills not now, my lord, to say what the brave Constable
of Chester has been to the poor priest Baldwin, or with
what love and pride we beheld him assume the holy sign
3f salvation, and, to honour Him by whom he has himself
been raised to honour, vow himself to the deliverance
of the Holy Land.  If I still see that noble lord before
me, in the same holv resolution, let me know  the joyful
truth, and I will lay aside rochet and mitre, and tend his
horse like a groom, if it be necessary by such menial
service to show the cordial respect I bear to him."
"' Reverend father," answered De Lacy, with hesitation, " I had hoped that the propositions  wlhich were
made to you on my part by the Dean of Hereford,
might have seemed  more satisfactory in your eyes."
Then, regaining his native confidence, he proceeded
witlh more assurance in speeclh and manner; for the cold
inflexible looks of the Archbishop irritated him.  "If
these proposals can be amended, my lord, let me know
in what points, and, if possible, your pleasure shall be
done, even if it should prove somewhat unreasonable. I
would have peace, my lord, with Holy Church, and am
the last w;!ho  would despise her mandates.  This has been
iowtxv by my deeds in field, and counsels in the state;




THE BETROTHED.                   209
nor can I think my services have merited cold looks and
cold language from tile Primate of England."
CI Do you upbraid tile Church with your services, vain
man?" said Baldwin.  " I tell thee, Hugh de Lacy, thai
whlat Heaven hath wrought for the Church by tlh)y  and,
could, had  it been thle Divine pleasure, have been
achieved with as much ease by the meanest horseboy in
thy host.  It is thiou that art lhonolured, in being the
c;losen instrument by which great tlhings have been
Vroughllt in Israel.-Nay, interrupt me not-I tell tllee,
pro d baron, that, in thle sight of Heaven, tlly wisdom is
but as folly-thy courage, whllicl thou dost boast, but the
cowardice of a village maiden-tlhy strength weaknessthy spear an osier, and thy sword a bulrush."
"All this I know, good father," said the Constable,
" and have ever heard it repeated when such poor services as I may llave rendered are gone and past.'Marry,
whlen there was need for my lhelping hand, I was the very
good lord of priest and prelate, and one who should be
honoured and prayed for with patrons and founders who
sleep in the choir and under the high altar.  There was
no thlought, I trow, of osier or of bulrush, when I have
been prayed to coucll my lance or draw my weapon; it
is only when they are needless that they and their owner
are undervalued.  Well, my reverend fatller, be it soif the Church can cast the Saracens from the Holy Iand
by groomns and horseboys, wherefore do you preach
kiiilts and nobles firom  the hlomes and the countries
whl~ih1: they are born to protect and defend?"
The Archbishop looked steadily on him as he replied,' Not tor the sake of their fleshly arm do we disturb your
hiilghts and barons in their prosecution of barbarous festiv-ities and murderous feuds, which you call enjoying
their hoines and protecting their doinains —not that Omeni potence requires ttheir armn of flesll to execute the great
predestined work of liberation,-bu: for the weal of' their
imlnortal souls."  These last word: bh  pronounc:ed with
great emphasis.
VOL. m.




!210          TALES OF THE  CRUSADEIRh*
The Constable paced the floor impatiently, and muttered  to himself, " Such is the airy guerdon for which
hosts on hosts hlave been drawn firomi Europe to drench
the sands of Palestine with their gore —suctlh the vain
promises for which vwe are called upon to barter our cou)try, our lands, and our lives."
"Is it Hutgo de Lacy speaks thus?" said the Archbishop, arising from  his seat, and qualifying his tonle )f
censure with the appearance of shaine and of regret -'" Is it he who underprizes tlle renown of a knigllt-the
virtue of a Christian —the advancement of lhis eartlly
honour —the more incalculable profit of his ilnmortal sou?
- Is it he who desires a solid and substantial reconipence in lands or treasure, to be won by warring oili his
less powerful neighbours at hoine, while k1nigltly lhonour
and religious faith, his vow  as a knight and his baptism
as a Christian, call him to a more glorioius and moree dangerous st'ife?-Can it be indeedl Hugo de Lacy, tle miirror of the Anglo-Norman chivalry, wlhose tiotuglhts can
conceive such sentimllents, whllose words canll utter ttie in?"
4 Flattery and ftair speech, suitablly mixed with taunts
and reproaches, my lord," aniswered the Conlstable, colouring and biting his lip, "' may carry your point Mwith
others; but I amn of' a temper too solid to  be eitllhe
wheedled or goaded into measures of imlortance.  Forbear, theretore, this strain of allected amazement; and
believe me, tlhat whlethler lie goes to  tlhe crunsade or
abides at llome, tlie cllaracter of I-ugll Lacy will remain
as lnimprltelctled in point of couratve as that of the Arcllbishlop  aldwill in point of sallctitude."'' 1 May  it stliand mnucl i higler,'" said thle A rchlbishop
"'than tihe reCplttation wit.h whichl Yoi1 vouclisaIhe to compa)re it! but a blaze mniayr be extinguislied as well as a
spark; and I tell the Constable of Cihester, that the fame
wxlich lhas sat on his basnet for so man  years, may flit
frorn it in one moment, never to be recalled."
Who J    dares to say so?" said the Constable, tremblingly alive to the hlonolr for whliclh lie lidtl encotuntered,;o ni any dtangers.  "6 A friiend," said the Prelate. " whose




Tril    ETROTHED.                 21 1
stripes slhould he received  as benefits.   You think oj
py,1 Sir Constable, and of guerdon, as if you still stood
inl the market, free to chaffer on the terms of your servicec.  I tell you, you are no longer your own masteryou iare, by the blessed badge you have voluntarily assumied, the soldier of God himself; nor can you fly from
your standard without such infamy as even coistrels or
grooms are unwilling to incur."
" You deal all too hardly with us, my lord," said Hugo
de Lacy stopping short in his troubled walk.  " You ot
the spilituality make us laynen the pack-horses of your
own concerns, and climb to arlbitious heights by the
help of our overburdened  shoulders; but all bath its
limits —Becket transgressed it, and     "
A gloomy and expressive look corresponded with the
tone in which lie spoke this broken sentence; and the
Prelate, at no loss to comprehend his meaning, replied,
in a firm and determined voice, " And he was murdered!
-that is what you dare to hint to mne,-even to me,
the successor of' tlhat glo'ified saint-as a motive for
complying with your fickle and selfish wish to withdraw
your hand fr'om the plough.   You know  not to whom
you address such a threat.  True, Becklet, from a saint
militant on earth, arrived, by tlle bloody path of martyrdomn, to tlle dignity of a saint in heaven-; and no less
true is it, that, to attain a seat a thousand degrees benealth tllat of his blessed predecessor, the unwortlly Baldwin were willing to sulbmit, ulnder Our Lady's protection,
to wliatever tIle worst of wicked men can inflict on his
earthly firame."
"'Thtlere needls not this show of courage, reverend
father," said I)e  Lacy, recollecting  himself, "v wliere
tihere neither is, nor can be, danger.  I pra  you, let us
debate tllis matter more deliberately.   I have never
mneant to brealk off mly )iurpose   fol thle Holy land, but
only to postlonie it.  Aletlinks tIle ofiers tlhat I lave
made are fair, an(d ought to obtain for ine what lias been
granted to others in thle like case-a slight delay in the
titne of mny departure."




"2,12       TAIS OiF'HE CRUISADERS.
A'  slight delay on the part of such a leade, as you,
noble De lacy," answered the Prelate, " were a deathblow to our holy and most gallant enterprize.  To meaner men we mighllt have granted tile privilege of marrying and giving in marriage, even although they care not
for the sorrows of Jacob; but you, my lord, are a main
prop of our enterprize, and, being withdrawn, the whole
fabric may fall to the ground. Who in England will deem
himself obliged to press forward, when EHugo de Lacy
falls back? Think, my lord, less upon your plighlited
bride, and more on your plighted word; and believe not
that a union can ever come to good, whlich shakes your
purpose towards our blessed undertaking for the honour
of Christendom."
The Constable was embarrassed by the pertinacity
of the Prelate, and began to give way to his arguments.
though most reluctantly, and only because the habits and
opinions of the time left him no means of combating his
arguments otherwise that by solicitation.  " I adimit,"
he said, " my engagemlents for the Crusade, nor hIave I
-I repeat it-fiurtller desire than that brief interval which
may be necessary to place my important affairs in order.
Meanwhile my vassals, led by my nephewv    "
"G Promise that whllich is within thy power," said the
Prelate.  "' Wllo knows whether, in resentment of thy
seeking after other things than His most holy cause, thy
nephew may notbe called hence, even while we speak
together?"
"' God fo.rbid!" said the Baron, starting up, as if about
to fly to his nephew's  assistance; then suddenly pausing, he turned on the Prelate a keen and investigating
glance.  " It is not well," lhe said, " that your reverence
should thus trifle wvitll tlle dangers which threaten lmy
house.  Damian is dear t- me for his own good qualllties- dear for tlle sake o  my only brother.-Alay Gaol
forgive us botll! lie die( wllen ie  were in nlllin-dness
wit  eachl other.-My lord, your vwords imn)ort tlati lly
beloved nel)llewv suffers plain, and incurs danger on ac-.ounlt of:ny ofnllces?"'




The Archbishop perceived he had at lengtil:  u iched the chord to which his refiractory lienitent's ieartstrings must needs vibrate.  He replied with citrculmspection, as well knowing with whom he had to deal," Far be it from me to presume to interpret the councils
of Heaven! but we read in scripture, that when the fathers eat sour grap)es, the teeth of the children are set
on edge.  What so reasonable as that we should be
punished for our pride and contulnacy, by a judgment
specially calculated to abate and bend that spirit of surquedry?16 You yourself best know if this disease clung
to thy nephew before you had meditated defection firom
the banner of the Cross."
Hugo de Lacy hastily recollected himself, and found
that it was indeed true, that, until he thought of his
union with Eveline, there had appeared no change in his
nephew's health.   His silence and confusion did not
escape the artful Prelate.  He took the hand of the
warrior as he stood before him  overwhelned in doubt,
lest his preference of the continuance of his own house
to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre should have been
punished by the disease which threatened his nephew's
life.  " Come," he said, " noble De Lacy-the judgment provoked by a moment's presumption may be even
yet averted by prayer and penitence.   The dial went
back at the prayer of the good King Hezekiah-down,
down upon thy knees, and doubt not that, with confession, and penance, and absolution, thou may'st yet atone
for thy falling away fronm the cause of Heaven."
Borne down by the dictates of the religion in which
he had been educated, and by the fears lest his delay
was punished by his nephew's indisposition and danger,
the Constable sunk on hi, knees before the Prelate,
whom lie had shortly before well nigh braved, confessed,
as a sin to be deeply repented of, his purpose of delaying lhis departure for Palestine, and received, with patience at least, if not with willing acquiescence, the
penance inflicted by the Arcllbishop; whlichl conisted
in a prohibition to proceed farther in his proposed wed



214          TALES OF THE CI'USAOIDEtS.
lock with the Lad)y Eveline until lie was returned f:orn
Palestine, wllere lie was bound by his vow to abide fob
the term of three years.
" And now, noble De Lacy," saidl the Prelate, " ()nce
more mny best beloved  and most honoured friend-is
not thy bosom lighter since thou hast thus nobly acquitted
thee of thy debt to Heaven, and cleansed. thy gallanit
spirit fromn those selfish and earthly stains which diimmed
its brightness?'
The Constable sighed.  " My happiest thoughts at
tllis moment,'  he said,' would arise fiom  knowledge
tlhat my nephewv's health is amended."
-" Be not discomlforted on the score of the noble Damian, your hopeful and valorous kinsman," said the
Arclhbishop,'" for well I trust shortly ye shall hear of his
recovery; or that, if it shall plecse God to remove him
to a better world, the passage shall be so easy, and, his
arrival in yonder haven of bliss so speedy, that it were
better for him to have died than to hlave lived."
The Constable looked at him, as if to gather from his
countenance more certainty of his nepllhew's fate tllan
his words seemed to imply; and the Prelate, to escape
being fahrter pressed on a subject on vwhliich lie was perhaps conscious lie had adventured too far, rung a silver
bell which stood before him on the table, and cornmanded the chaplain who entered at the summons, tlhat lie
should desl)atch a carefill messenger to the lodging of
Damian Iacy, to bring )particular accounts of his health' A  stranger," answered the chaplain, " just come
fi om the sick chamber of the noble DIamiJan Lacy, waits!i re even now to hbave speec.h of my lord Constable."
" Admit llim  instantly," said tile Arcllbishop)-"   my
mlind tells me lie bI,'inls uis joyf'll tidtings.-Never knew
I suclh  llumble penitence,- -sucll willing resignation of
nl,ltral affections and desires to the doing of Heaven's
servi-ce, rbut it twas rewarded with a guerdon either telmp)oral or spiritual."
As he spoke, a man singularly dressed entered  the
apartment.  Hiv garments, of various colours and show




THE BETROTiLEiD.                  215,dy disposed, were none of the newest or cleanest. neith
er were tlley altogethler fitting- for thle presence in which
lie llow sto(od.
" Flow now, sirrall!" said the Prelate; " when was
it that julgglers and minstrels pressed into tile coripanv
of such as we witllhout p)ermission?"' So please you," said the man, " my instant l)usiness
was not with your reverend lordsllip, but witll my lora
ttie Constable, to whom I will hope that my good news
may atone for my evil apparel."
" Speak, sirrah, does my kinsman live?" said the Constable eagerly.
" And is like to live, my lord," answered thle mrnan" a favourable crisis (so the leeches call it) hath taken
place in his disorder, and they are no longer under any
apprehensions for his life."
Now, God be praised, that hath granted me so much
mlercy!" said the Constable.
" Alnen, amlen!" replied the Archbishop solemnly.;" About what period did this blessed chang'e takfe place?"
" Scarcely a quarter oft' an hour since," said thle messenger, " a soft sleep fell on the sick youthl, like dew
upon a parcled field in summer-he breathed freelythlle burning 1heat abated-and, as I said, the leeches no
longer fear for his life."
" Marked you the hour, my Lord Constable?" said the
Bishop  with exultation-s" even then you  stooped to
those councils: which  Heaven suggested  through the
meanest of its servants-! But two words avouching penitence-but one brief prayer-and some kind saint has
interceded for an instant hearing, and a liberal granting
of thy petition.  Noble Hugo," lie continued, grasping
his hand in a species of enthusiasln, " surely Heaven
desi.ggns to work highl tllings by the hand of him whose
aulllts are thus readily forgiven-whvlose prayer is thuts instantly heard.  For this shall Te Deum Laudamus be
said in each church, and each convent of Gloucester. ere:he world be a day older."
7-74




2 16        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
The Constable, no less joyful, though perhaps less
able to perceive an especial providence in his nephew's
recovery, expressed his gratitude to the messenger of the
good tidings, by throwing him his purse.
1 I thank you, noble lord," said the man; " but if I
stoop to pick up this taste of your bounty, it is only to
restore it again to the donor."
" How now, sir?" said the Constable, "m ethinks thy
coat seems not so well lined as needs make thee spurn
at such a guerdon."
" He that designs to catch larks, my lord," replied
the messenger, " must not close his net upon sparrows —
have a greater boon to ask of your lordship, and therefore I decline your present gratuity."
" A greater boon, ah!" said the Constable,-" I am
no knight-errant, to bind myself by promise to grant it ere
I know its import; but do thou come to my pavilion tomorrow, and thou wilt not find me unwilling to do what
is reason."
So saying, he took leave of the Prelate, and returned
homeward, failing not to visit his nephew's lodging as he
passed, where he received the same pleasant assurances
which had been communicated by the messenger of the
particolo ted mantle.
CHAPTER XIX.
He was a minstrel-in his mood
Was wisdom, mix'd with folly;
A tame companion to the good,
But wild and fierce among the rude,
And jovial with the jolly.
ARCHIBALD ARMSTRONG.
THE events of the preceding day had been of a na.
ture so interesting, and latterly so harassing, that the




THIE BETROTUHEAD.                 2 17
Const-ablse felt weary, as after a severely conttested lbattlefielCd, and slept soLunlCly until tile earliest beams of (lawn
Salktle(d him1l tihrouLgh tile opening of tlie tent.  It was
t!hen that, with a mingled feeling of pain and sa!.isfaction,
lie belan to review the cliange whicll had take,, phla'e in
his condition since the p)receding morning 1.  HIe had then
a.isen an ardent bridegroomn,  nxious to find favotur in
the eyes of his fair bride, andc scrupulous aboutl his dress
and appointments, as if lie had been as young in years
as in hopes and wishes.  This was over, and lie hadi
now before him the painful task of leaving his betrothed
for a term of years, even before wedlock had united tlleln
indissolubly, and of reflecting that she was exposed to
all the dlangers which assail female constancy in a situation tlhullS critical.   When the immediate anxiety for llis
nepllew was removed, le was tempted to thirnk that lihe
had been sonmething hasty in listening to the argulments
of the Arcllbishop, and believing that Dainian's death or
recovery depended upon hlis own accomplislhing, to the
letter, and without delay hlis vow for the Holy Land.
" How many princes and kings," lie thought to himself,
h lave assumed the cross, and delayed or renounced it,
yet lived and died in wealth and( honour, without sustaining such a visitation as that with which Baldwin threatened me; and in what case or particular did such men
deserve more indulgence than I?  But the die is now
cast, and it signifies little to inquire whether my obedience
to the mandates of the Church has saved the life of my
nephew, or whether I have not fallen, as laymen are
wont to fall, whenever there is an encounter of wits betwixt thlem and those of the spirituality.  I would to God
it may prove otherwise, since, girding on my sword as
heaven's champion, I might the better expect heaven's protection for her whom I nlust tunhappily leave behind rne."
As these reflections passed through his mind, he heard
the warders at the entrance of his tent challenge somne
tOe whose footsteps were heard approaching it.  The
peerson stopped on their challenge, and presently aftei
roI,. t.




21 8             TALES OF THEf CRUSADERS.
was }heard the sound  of a rote, (a small species; of lutc )
tlle,trings of whichl were mania-eed              by mleans of a sunalll
wheel.    After a sllort prelude, a manly  voice, of good
C)llpass, sung verses, v-lliclh, tianslated  into  miodern  iangualge, might run nearly  thus:
I.
"Soldtier. wake-the d(ay is peeping,
Hlonour ne'er was won in sleeping,
Never when the sunbeaims still
Lay unrefieeted on the hill:'Tis when they are glillte(l back
Fronm axe and armlour, spear and jack,
That they I)romlise fiture story
Many a page of deathless glory.
Shields that are tile tbeman's terror,
Ever are the Inoriintg's mirror.
II.
" Arm and up-the morning beam
Hath call'd the rustic to his teamrn,
Ilath calld the ftilc'ner to tIhe lake,
Hlath call'd the huntsInan to the brake;
The early student ponders o'er
iJis d!usty tomes of ancient lore.
Sol(dier, wake-thy harvest, fame;
T1'1 studly, conquest; war, thy game.
Shield, thlat would be focnlan's terror
Still should gleam the morniings mirror.
III.
" Poor mlire repays tlle rustic's pain;
More paltry still the sportsman's gain;
Vainest of all, the student's theme
Ends in some metaphysic dream:
Yet each;:is up, and eachl has toil'd
Sinc e f;lst the peep of dawn has smined;
And each is eagerer inll his aim
Than lthe whlo barters lihf fob ftlme.
Up l., tand arm thee, sonl of terror!
lBe thy bright sllield thie morninlg's mirror."'
When the song was finished, the Constable heard some
talking without. and  presently   Philip  Guarine  entered
the pavilion  to tell that a person, come hithllr as Ie sai(i




Tr zE  BETR OTHED.                219
nv tle Constable's appointment, waited perIissicn to
spealk w7ith him.
By  my  appoitmnienii?" sid De - Lacy; " admit
himin immnediately."
The messenger of the preceding evening entered the
tent, holding in one hand his small cap and feather, in
the other the rote on which he had been just playing.
His attire was fantastic, consisting of more than one
inner dress of various colours, all of the brighltest and
richest dyes, and disposed so as to contrast with each
other-the upper garment was a very short Norman cloak
of brighllt green.  An embroidered girdle sustained, in
lieu of offensive weapons, an inkhorn with its appurtenances on the one side, on the other a knife for the purposes of the table.  His hair was cut in imitation of the
clerical tonsure, which was designed to intimnate that lie
had arrived to a certain rank, in his profession; for the
Joyous Science, as the profession of minstrelsy was termed, had its various ranks, like the degrees in the church
and in chivalry.  The features and manners of the man
seemed to be at variance with his profession and habit;
for, as the latter was gay and fantastic, the former had
a cast of gravity, and almost of sternness, which, unless
wlhen kindled by the enthusiasm of his poetical and musical exertions, seemed rather to indicate deep reflection,
than the thoughtless vivacity of observation which characterized most of his brethren.  His countenance, though
not handsome, had therefore somethling in it striking and
impressive, even from its very contrast with the particoloured hues, and fluttering shape of his vestmnents; and
the Constable felt something inclined to patronize him,
as lie said, " Good mnorrow, fiiend, and I thank thee for
tlhy riorning greeting; it was well sung and well meant,
for when we call forth any one to bethink him how tinme
passes, we do hlim  tlle credit of supposing that le can
employ to advantage that flitting treasure."
The man, who had listened in silence, seemed to pause
and make an effort ere he replied, " Mly intentions, at
least. were good, when I ventured to disturb my lord thus




2'20         TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS
carly; and I am glad to learn that my boldness hath noi
been evil received at his hand."
"True," said the Constable, " you had a boon to ask
of me.  Be speedy, and say thy request —my leisure is
short."
"It is for permission to follow you to the Holy Land,
nmy lord," said the man.
"Thou last asled wllat I can hardly grant, my friend,"
a:nswered De Lacy —" Thou art a Ininstrel, art thou not?"
" An unworthy graduate of tile Gay  Science, my
lord," said the musician-; " yet let me say for myself,
tL:at I will not yield to the king of minstrels, Geoffiey
Pludel, though the King of England hath given him four
i: anors for one song.  I would be willing to contend with
1 rn in romance, lay, or fable, were the judge to be King
Henry himself."
" You have your own good word, doubtless," said De
I acy; " nevertheless, Sir Minstrel, tlhou goest not with
I! e.  The Crusade las been already too much encumrn-!berel by men of thy idle profession; and if thlou dost
add to ithe nu!mber, it slall not be under my protection.
I am too old to be charmed by thy art, charm thou never
so wisely."
" He that is young enough to seek for and to win the
love of beauty," said the minstrel, but in a submnissive
tone, as if feailng his freedom miglht give offence, " should
not terlim }him;se!l' too old to feel tile charms of minstrelsy."
The Constable smiled, not insensible to the flattery
w]hich assigned to him the character of a younger gallant.
"Thou art a jester," lhe said, " I warrant me, in addition
to thy otlher qualities?"'" No," replied the minstrel, "' it is a brlanch of our
irofession wlliclh I have for some time relnounced-my
fo'rtunes have put tne out of tune for jesting."
"Nay, comrade," said tile Constable,' if thou hasi
been ]hard(ly dealt witll in thle  iorld, and canst comply
-ith the rules of a family so strictly ordered as mine,
it;s possible we may agree together better than I thorugtl




TIlE BETROTHED.                 221
What is thy name and country?  thy speech, metbinks,
sounds somewhat foreign."
" I am an Armorican, my lord, from the merry shores
of Morbihan; and hence my tongue hath some touch of
my country speech.  My name is Renault Vidal."
Such being the case, Renault," said the Constable,'" thou shalt follow me, and I will give orders to the
master of my household to have thee attired something
according to thy function, but in more orderly guise than
thou now appearest in.  Dost thou understand the use
of a weapon?"
" Indifferently, my lord," said the Armorican; at
the same time taking a sword from the wall, he drew it,
and made a pass with it so close to the Constable's body
as he sat on the couch, that he started up, crying " Villain, fbrbear!"
" La you! noble sir," replied Vidal, lowering with
all submission the point of his weapon-" I have already
given you a proof of sleight which has alai med even your
experience-I have an hundred other besides."
" It may be so," said De Lacy, somewhat ashamed at
having shown himself moved by the sudden and lively
action of the juggler; "but I love not jesting with edge
tools, and have too much to do with sword and swordblowvs in earnest, to toy with them; so I pray you let us
have no more of this, but call me my squire and my
chamberlain, for I am about to array me and go to mass."
The religious duties of the mormninmg performed, it was
the Constable's intention to visit the Lady Abbess, and
communicate, with the necessary precautions and qualifications, the altered relations in which he was placed
towards her niece, by the resolution he had been compelled to adopt, of departing for the Crusade before accomplishing his marriage, in the terms of the pre-contract already entered into.  He was conscious that it
would be difficult to reconcile the good lady to this
change of measures, and he delayed sometime ere hc
could think of the best mode of communicating and
VOL. I.




A'v'*'!'AILES OF Tl'E CI1:SADI'RS.
-ofteing tile unlpleasant intelligence.  An iltervt l was
also spent in a visit to his nephiew, whvlose state of con
valescence continued to be as favourable,..s if in truth ii
}had beeh a niraculous consequence of' the Constable'q
having coinmplied with tile advice of' tile Archbishop.
From the lodging of Damian, the Constable proceeded to the convent of the Benedictine Abbess.  But she
had been already made acquainted with the circumstances
whic  l he came to communicate, by a still earlier visit
fiom  the Archbishop Baldwin himself.  The Primate
had undertaken the office of mediator on this occasion.
conscious that his success of the evening before must
have placed the Constable in a delicate situation with
the relations of his betrothed bride, and willing, by his
countenance and authority, to reconcile the disputes which
might ensue.  Perhaps he had better have left Hugo de
Lacy to plead his own cause; for the Abbess, though
she listened to the communication with all the respect
due to the highest dignitary of the English Church, drew
consequences fiom the Constable's change of resolution
which the Primate had not expected.   She ventured to
oppose no obstacle to De Lacy's accomplishment of his
vows, but strongly argued that the contract with her niece
should be entirely set aside, and each party left at liberty to form a new choice.
It was in vain that the Archbishop endeavoured to
dazzle the Abbess with the fiture honours to be won by
the Constable in the Holy Land; the splendour of
which would attach not to his lady alone, but to all in 3he
remotest degree allied to or connected with her.   All
his eloquence was to no purpose, though upon so favourite a topic he exerted it to the utmost.   The Abbess,
it is true, remained silent for a mc-nent after his arguments had been exhaulsted, but it'was only to consider
how she should intimate, in a suitable and reverent manner, lthat children, the usual attendants of an lhapIpy ulnion,
and the existence of which slie looked to for thile contilnuation of tihe horuse of her flathler and brother, could not
ble hop'ed for with any probability, unless the pre-cen



THIB BETROTHED.                   22 3
iract was followed by marriage, and the rcslrdence of
tile married parties in tile salme country.  Slie therefolre
insisted, that the Constable having altered his intentions
in tllis most important particular, the.fi an cail/es should
be entirely abrogated and set aside; and she demanded
of the Primate, as an act of justice, tlhat, as lie had interfered to prevent the bridegroonl's execution of his
original purpose, he should now assist with his influence
wholly to dissolve an engagement which had been thus
materially innovated upon.
The Primate, who was sensible he had himself occasioned De Lacy's breach of contract, felt himself
bound in honour and reputation to prevent consequences so disagreeable to his friend, as the dissolution of an
engagement in which his interest and inclinations were
alike concerned.  He reproved the Lady Abbess for the
carnal and secular views which she, a dignitary of thle
church, entertained upon the subject of matrimony, and
concerning the interest of her house.  He even upbraided her with selfishly preferring the continuation of the
line of Berenger to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre,
andc denounced to tier that Heaven wvould be avenged
of thle short-sighted and merely human policy, wlhich
postponed the interests of Christendom  to those of an
individual family.
After this severe lhomilv, the Prelate took his delarture, leaving thle Abbess highly incensed, though  she
prudently forebore returning any irreverent answer to
his paternal admonition.
In this hulmour the venerable lady was found by thle
Constable himself, when, with some embarrassment, he
proceeded to explain to her the necessity of his present
departure for Palestine.
She received the communication witll sullen diglnity:
ller ample black robe and scapl)llar seeming, as it were,
o swell out in yet prouder folds as she listened to thle reasons and tile emeragencies whiich conlpelled tle Constable
)f Chester to defer the marriage. which lhe avowed was




224         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
the dearest wish of his heart, until after his return from
the Crusade, for which he was about to set forth.
" Methinks," replied the Abbess, with much coldness,
if this communication is meant for earnest, —and it
were no fit business —I myself no fit person-for jesting
with, —methinks the Constable's resolution should have
been proclaimed to us yesterday, before the fiancaillcs
had united his troth with that of Eveline Berenger, under expectations very different from those which he now
announces."
"On the word of a knight and a gentleman, reverend
lady," said the Constable, "1 I had not then the slightest
thought that I should be called upon to take a step no
less distressing to me, than, as I see with pain, it is unpleasing to you."
" I can scarcely conceive," replied the Abbess, " the
cogent reasons, which, existing as they must have done
yesterday, have nevertherless delayed their operation
until to-day."
4' I own," said De Lacy, reluctantly,'" that I entertained too ready hopes of obtaining a remission from my
vow, which my Lord of Canterbury hath, in his zeal
for Heaven's service, deemed it necessary to refuse me."
" At least, then," said the Abbess, veiling her resentment under the appearance of extreme coldness,
" your lordship will do us the justice to place us in the
same situation in which we stood yesterday morning
and, by joining with my niece and her friends in desiring the abrogation of a marriage contract, entered into
with very different views from  those which you now
entertain, put a young person in that state of liberty of
which she is at present deprived by her contract with
you?"
" Al, madam!" said the Constable, " what do you
ask of me? and in a tone how cold and indifferent do
you demand me to resign hopes, the dearest which my
tbosom ever entertained since the life-blood warmed it ["
" I am unacquainted with language belonging to suck
fe flings, nmy lord," replied the Abbess; " but methinks
the p)rospects whllichll rcold be so easily adjiourned foi




THE BTF,TOP'HEbi.                 S,25
years, might, by a little, and a very little, furthc" selfcontrol, be altogether abandoned."
Huio de Lacy paced the room  in agitation, nor did
lie answer until after a considerable pause.  "If your
niece, madam, shares the sentiments which you have
expressed, I could not, indeed, with justice to her, or
perhaps to myself, desire to retain that interest in her,
wlich our solemn espousals have given me.  But I mlst
know my doom fi'om her own lips; and if it is as severe
as that whllich your expressions lead me to fear, I will go
to Palestine the better soldier of Heaven, that I shall
lhave little left on earth that can interest me."
The Abbess, writhout fartller answer, called on her
Precentrix, and desired her to command her niece's at-.endance immediately.  The Praecentrix bowed reverently, and withdrevw.
" May I presume to inquird," said De Lacy, " whether thle Lady Eveline bIatlh been possessed of thle circumstances   llich have occasioned this unhappy alteration in
my purpose?"
" 1 ha;ve communicated the whole to her, fiom point to
point," said the Abbess, " even as it was explained to
me this morlning by my Lord of Canterbury  (for with
him I bhave already spoken upon the subject,) and confirmed hut now by your lordship's own mouth."
"'1 am little obliged to the Archlbisllop," said the Constable, " for hlaving forestalled my excuses in the quarter
where Zt was most important for me that tlhey should be
accilr?.tely stated, and favourably received."
"'t'lat," said the Abbess, " is but an item of the account hetwixt )you and thle iPrelate,-it concerns not us."' J)are I venture to  hope,"  continued  De Lacy,
witlhout taking offence at the dryness of the Abbess's
mItnner,  "tllat Lady Eveline lhas heard this most unllappv c:l!ange of circumstances without emotion, —I  would
say wvitiiout dlis.pleasure?"
Sh!e is thle daughilter of a Bere-nger, my lord," an-wered( tle Abbess, " and( it is out' custom  to punish a
b:eacn of' faith), or to conteinn it-never to arieve over it
Whilat mny niece mnay do in this case, I know not.  i am




'72()       TA1i, ES OSF T IIlE CI:USADI'R.
a womlian of religion, sequestered fomrn the wnrlt', a.rd
would advise peace and Cllristian  forgiveness, with a
proper sense of contempt for the unwortlhy treatmenl
which slie las received.  Slie has followvers and vassals.
and fiiends, doubtless, and advisers, xvwho may not, in
blinded zeal for worldly honour, recomnmend to her to sit
dowvn slighltly with thiis injury, but desire she should
rather appeal to the King, or to the arms of her father's
followers, unless her liberty is restored to her by the
surrender of the contract into wlhich she has been enticed.-But she comes to answer for herself."
Eveline entered at the moment, leaning on Rose's arm.
She had laid aside mourning since the ceremony of tlje
fi'anfailles, and was dressed in a kirtle of white with an
upper robe of pale blue.   Her head was covered with
a veil of white gauze, so thin, as to float about her likl
the misty cloud usually painted around the countenance
of a seraph.  But the face of Eveline, though in beauty
not unworthy one of this angelic order, was at present
falr from resembling that of a seraph in tranquillity of expression.   Her limbs trembled, her cheeks were pale,
tihe tinge of red around the eyelids expressed recent
tears; yet amidst these natural signs of distress and uncertainty, there was an air of profound resignation —a
resolution to discharge her duty in every eirergence,
reigning in the solemn expression of her eye and evebrow, and slowving her prepared to govern the agitation
which she could not entirelv subdue.  And so well were
tlhese opposing qualities of timidity and resolution mingled
on her cheek, that Eveline, in the utmost pride of her
beauty never looked more fascinating than at that instant;
and  Hugo de Iacy, hitherto rather an unimpassioned
lovet, stood in her presence with feelings as if all the
exaggerations of romance were realized, and his mistress
were a being of a high]er sphere, from  wlhose doom he
was to receive happiness or misery, life or death.
It was under the influence of such a feeling, that the
warrior dropped  on one knee before Eveline, took Ihe,
fawld which shle rathler resigned than gave to him. press



TIlE B E TROTHIE D.               227
ed it to h:s lips fervently, and ere lie parted with it, niistmenei it with one of tile few tears which lie was ever known
to shed.   Bunt, although surprised, and carried out ot
llis character by a sudden impullse, he regained his conlposure on observing that tlle Abbess regarded his humiliation, if it can be so termed, with an air of triumph;
and lhe entered on his defence before Eveline wvith a manly earnestness, not devoid of' fervour, nor free friom agitation, yet made in a tone of firmness and pride, whllich
seemed assumed to meet and control that of the offended
Abbess.
L' Iady," he said, addressing Eveline, " you have
heard from  the venerable Abbess in what unhappy posi
Jion I have been placed since yesterday by the rigour of
the Arcllhishop-perhaps I should rather say, by his just
tlhough severe interpretation of' my engagement in the
Crusade.   I cannot doubt that all this has been stated
with accurate truth by the venerable lady; but as I Inust
n1o lon;;er call her my friend, let me fear whether she
las done me justice in her commentary upon thle unhappy necessity  wvhich must presently compel me to leave
my country, and with my country to forego-at best to
postpone-tle fairest hopes which man ever entertained.
The venerable lady hath upbraided me, that being myself the cause that the execution of yesterday's contract
is postponed, I would fain keep it suspended over your
head for an indefinite term of years.  No one resigns
willingly such rights as yesterday gave rnme; and, let me
speak a boastful word, sooner than yield them up to man
of woman born, 1 would hold a fair field against all
comers, with grinded sword and sharp spear, from sunrise to sun-set, for three days' space.  But what I would
retain at tile price of a tllousand lives, I am willing to
renounce if it would cost you a single sigh. If, therefore,
vonl tllink you cannot remain happy as the betrotlled ol
De Lacy, you may command my assistance to have the
contract aimulled, and make some more fortunate mano
hiapliy."'




A8      -   TALES  P'F T'HE CRUSADERS.
HL wo1uid have gone on, but felt tile danger of bein,
overpowered again by those feelings of tenderness so new
to his stead)y nature, that he blushled to give way to tlhem.
Eveline remlained silent.  Tlie Abbess took tile word.
Kinswoman," she said, " you hear that the generosity
-   the justice-of the Constable of Chester, prolpcses,
in consequence of his departure upon a distant and perilous exFedition, to cancel a contract entered into upon tlle
specific and precise understanding that he was to remain
in England for its fulfilment.   You cannot, mnetlinks,
hesitate to accept of the freedom wshich lie offers you,
with thanks for his bounty.  For iny part, 1 will reserve
mine own until I shall see that your joint application is
sufficient to win to your purpose his grace of Canterbury,
who may again interfere with the actions of his firiend
ihe Lord Constable, over whoIn he has already exerted
so much influence-for the wveal, doubtless, of his spiritual concerl'lS 3)
c" If it is meant by your words, venerable lady,)' said thle
Constable, " thlat I hlave any purpose of sheltering, nmyself
behind the Prelate's autthority, to avoid doing that whlicl I
proclaim my readiness, tlhough not my willingness, to do, I
can only say, that you are the first who has doubted tile faith
of Hug'h de [,acy.''-And while the proud Baron thus addressed a female and a recluse, lie could not prevent
his eye from sparkling, and his cheek from flushing.: My gracious and venerable kinswoinan," said Eveline, summoning together her resolution, "' and you, my
good lord, be not offended if I pray you not to increase
by  groundless suspicions and hasty resentments your
difficulties and mine.  My lord, the obligations which 1
lie Iunder to you are such as I can never discharge, since
they comprehend fortune, life, and honour.  Know that,
in my anguish of mind, wvlen besieged by the Welch in
my castle of tle Garde Doloureuse, I vowed to thle Virgin, that (my honour safe) I would place myself at tthe
disposal of him whom Our Lady slhould employ as hler
instrumelt to relieve me from  yonder hour of agony.




THE BEJ!TROTHF,'E..29
In giving me a deliverer, she gave me a i~laste;'; not
could I desire a more noble one than Hugo de Lacy.
"God forbid, lady," said the Constable, speaking
eagerly, as if he was afraid his resolution should fail
him ere he could get the renunciation uttered, " that 1
should, by such a tie, to which you subjected yourself
in the extremity of your distress, bind you to any resolution in my favour which can put force on your own
inclinations!"
The Abbess herself could not help expressing her applause of this sentiment, declaring it was spoken like a
Norman gentleman; but, at the same time, her eyes
turned towards her niece seemed to exhort her to beware how she declined to profit by the candour of De
Lacy.
But Eveline proceeded, with her eyes fixed on the
ground, and a slight colour overspreading her face, to state
her own sentiments, without listening to the suggestions of
any one.  " I will own, noble sir," she said, "that when
your valour had rescued me from  approaching destruction, I could have wished-honouring and respem ting you,
as I had done your late friend my excellent fatherthat you could have accepted a daughter's service from
me.  I do not pretend entirely to have surmounted these
sentiments, although I have combated them, as being unworthy of me, and ungrateful to you.  But from  the
moment you were pleased to honour me by a claim on
this poor hand, I have studiously examined my sentiments towards you, and taught myself so far to make
them coincide with my duty, that I may call myself assured that De Lacy would not find in Eveline Berenger
an indifferent, far less an unworthy, bride.  In this, sir,
you may boldly confide, whether the union you have
sounght for takes place instantly, or is delayed till a longel
season.  Still farther, I must acknowledge that the postponement of these nuptials will be more agreeable to me
than their immediate accomplishment.  I am at present
very young, and toally inexperienced.   Two or three
1 1..,\..




230(          TALES OF THE  CRUSADE RS.
years will, I trust, render me yet more wvorthy the regard
of a man of honour.'l
At tllis declaration in his favour, however cold and
qualified, De Lacy  had as nluch difficulty to restrain
his [ransports as formerly to moderate his agitation.
6' Angel of bounty and of kindness!" he said, kneeling
once more, and again possessing himself ofl her hand,'perhaps I ought in honour to resign voluntarily those
hopes which you decline to ravish from nie forcibly.  But
wh:o could be capable of such unrelenting  magnanimity?
-Let me lhope that my devoted attachlnlent-that which
you shall hear of me when at a distance-that which you
shall know  of me when near you-may give to your
sentiments a more tender warnithi than they  now  express; and, in the meanwhile, blame me not that I accept your plighted faith anew, under the conditions -whichl
you attach to it.  I am conscious my wooing has been too
late in life to expect the anima;ted returns proper to youtlhfull passion-Blame me not if I reomain satisfied with
those calmer sentiments which make life happy, tlhougii
th-ey canlnot make passion rapturous.  Your lhand remains
in my grasp, but it acknowledges not my pressure-Ca;i
it be that it refuses to ratify whllat your lips have said?"
" Never, noble De Lacy!" said Eveline, with more
animation than she had yet expressed; and it appeared
that the tone was at length sufficiently encouraging, since
her lover was emboldened to take the lips themselves
for guarantee.
It was with an air of pride, mingled with respect, tihat,
dfter having received this pledge of fidelity, lie turned
to conciliate and to appease the offended Abbess.  "I
tru'st, venerable motler," lhe said, " that you will resurme
your former kind thoughts of ne, whiclh I am awalre were
only interrupted by your tender anxiety for tile interest
of her who slhould be dearest to us both.  Let me hope
thlat I may leave this fair flower under protection of the
honoured lady who is'her next in blood, happy and se.,
cure as she must ever be, wlhile listening to your coun
sels, anfd residin,;t within these sacred walls."




THE BETROTHED.                 X31
But the Abbess was too deeply displeased to rte propiitiated by a compliment, which perhaps it had been
bietter policy to have delayed till a calmer season.  " mIv
lord," she said, " and you, fair kinswoman, you ouglht
needs to be aware how little my counsels-not frequentIty given where they are unwillingly listened to —can be
of avail to those embarked in worldly affairs.  I am a
woman dedicated to religion, to solitude, and seclusionto the service, in brief, of Our Lady and Saint Benedict.
1 have been already censured by my superior because I
have, for love of you, fair niece, mixed more deeply in
secular affairs than became the head of a convent of recluses-I will merit no farther blame on such an account;
nor can you expect it of me.  My brother's daughter,
unfettered by worldly ties, had been the welcome sharer
of my poor solitude.  B3ut this house is too mean foi
the residence of the vowed bride of a mighty baron 
nor do I, in my lowliness and inexperience, feel fitness
to exercise over su:h a onethat authority, which must
belong to me over every one whom  this roof protects.
The grave tenor of our devotions, and the serener contemplation to which the females of this house are devoted," continued the Abbess, with increasing heat and vehernence, " shall not, for the sake of my worldly connexions, be disturbed by the intrusion of one whose thoughlts
must needs be on the worldly toys of love and marriage."
" I do indeed believe, reverend mother," said the
Constable, in his turn giving way to displeasure, " that
a richly dowered maiden, unwedded, and unlikely to wed,
were a fitter and more welcomne inmnate to the convent,
than one who cannot be separated from the world, and
whose wealth is not likely to increase the Hiouse's revenues."
The Constable did the Abbess great injury in this hasty
insinuation, and it only went to confirm her purpose of
rejecting  all chanrge of her niece durin  lhis absence.
She was an truthl as disinterested as haughty; and her
only reason for anger against her niece was, that he.
775




TALES OF TiHE CRUSADERS.
advice had not been adopted without hesitation, althui gh
the matter regarded Eveline's happiness exclusively.
Thie ill-timed reflection of the Constable confirmed hel
in the resolution which she had already, and hastily
adopted.  " May Heaven forgive you, sir knight," she
replied, " your injurious thoughts of his servants   It is
indeed time, for your soul's sake, that you do penance in
tile Holy Land, having such rash judgrrents to repent of.
-For you, my niece, you cannot want that hospitality.
which, witlhout veriiying, or seeming to verify, unjust suspicions, I cannot now  grant to you, while you hlave, in
your kinswoman of Baldringham,  a secular relation, v whose
nearness of blood approaches mine, and who may cpen
her gates to you without incurring the unworthy censure,
that she means to enrich herself at your cost."
The Constable saw the deadly paleness which caine
over Eveline's cheek at thlis proposal, and, without knowing the ca',se of' her repugnance, he hastened to relieve
her from the apprehensions which she seemed evidently
to entertain.  " No, reverend mother," he said; " since
you so harsh-ly reject the care of your kinswoman, she
shall not be a burden  to any of her other relatives.
While Hugo de Lacy hath six gallant castles, and many
a manor besides. to maintain fire upon their hearths, his
betrothed bride shall burden no one with her society,
wvho may regard it as otherwise than a great honour;
and -ethinks I were much poorer than Heaven hath
made me, could I not furnish friends and followers sufficient to serve, obey, and protect her."
"No, my lord," said Eveline, recovering from the dejection into which she had been thrown by the unkindness of her relative; " since some unhappy destiny
separates me from the protection of my father's sister, to
whom  I could so securely have resigned myself, I wii!
neither apply for shelter to any more distant relation.
nor accept of that which you, my lord, so generously
offer; since my doing so might excite harsh, and, I am
sure, undeserved reproaches, against her by whom I was
d;riven to choose a less advisable dwelling-place.  1 lha e




TIHE BETlROTHLED.                233
made my resolution.  I have, it il true, orn-y one firieni
left, but she is a powverftl  one, and is ahle to protect
me against tile particular evil fate whicll seems to follow
me, as well as against tlle ordinary evils of h-unman life."
" Tile Queen, I suppose?" said the Abbess, interrupting her impatiently.
" Tile Queen of Heaven! venerable kinswoman,"' answered Eveline;' Our Lady of the Garde Doloureuse,
ever gracious to our house, and so lately my especial
guardian and protectress.   Methinks, since the vowed
votaress of the Virgin rejects me, it is to her holy patroness whom  I ought to apply for succour."
The venerable dame, taken somewhat at unawares
by this answer, pronounced the interjection "11Umph!" in
a tone better befitting a Lollard or an Iconoclast, than a
Catholic Abbess, and a daughter of the House of Berenger.  Truth is, the Lady Abbess's hereditary devotion
to the Lady of the Garde Doloureuse was much decayed
since she had known the full merits of another gifted
image, the property of her own convent.
Recollecting herself, however, she remained  silent,
while the Constable alleged the vicinity of the Welch, as
vwhat might possibly again render the abode of' his betrothed bride at the Garde Doloureuse as perilous as she had on
a forrmer occasion found it.  To this Eveline replied, by
reminding hirn of the great strength of lier native fortress
-the various sieges which it had withstood-and the important circumstance, that, upon the late occasion, it was
only endangered, because, in compliance wit!: a point of
honour, ler father Raymond had sallied out witli the garrison, and fought at disadvantage a battle under the walls.
She farther suggested, that it was easy for the Constable
to name, fi'om among his own vassals or hers, a senesclial
of such approved prudence and valour, as might insure
the sitfety of tle i)lace, and of its lady.
Ere De TLacy could reply to lier arguments the Abbess
rose, and, pleading her total inability to give counsel in
se.ular affairs, ind the rulhe of her order, which called
VOL. 1.




234          TALES OF THE CRUSADEIR.
tier, as she said, with a heightened colour and raised voice
to tile simple and peacefuil discharge of lier conventual
duties," she left tile  betrotlled parties in tile locutory,
or parlour, witllout any company, save Rose, who pru.
dently remained at some distance.
Th'le issue of their private conference seemed agree
able to both; and wh-len Eveline told Rose that they weic
to return presently to thle Garde Doloureuse, under a
sufficient escort, and were to remain there dluring the period of tile Crusade, it was in a tone of hleartfelt satistaction, whichl her follower htad not heard her make use of for
manLy days.  She spoke also highly in praise of tile kind
ac(1uiescence of tile Constable in her wislles, and of Iiis
whllole conduct, with a warmth of gratitude approaching
to a more tender feeling.
" And yet, my dearest lady," said Rose, " if you will
speak unfeignedly, you must, I am  convinced, allow that
you look upon tllis interval of years, interposed betwixl
your contract and your marriage, rather as a respite than
in any other light."
"1 coniess it," said Eveline, " nor llhave I concealed
from my future lord that such are niy feelings, unpgracious as they may seem.  BLut it is my youtli, Rose.
my extreme youth, which makles ine fear the dtities of
De Lacy's wife.  Then those evil auguries hang strangely about me.  Devoted to evil by one kinswomran, expelled alhnost from the roof of another, 1 seem to myself, at
present, a creature  who  must carry distress with her
pass where she will.  Tllis evil llour, and, what is nlore
tile apl)rehensions of it, will give way to time. Xihen 1
shall have attained tile age of twenty, Rose, I shall be a
full-grown woman, with all tile soul of a Berenger strong
within me, to overcome those doubts and tremors which;tgitate the girl of seventeen."
"Al! my sweet mistress," answered Rose, " may
God anll our La(ly of tile Garde Doloureuse guide all
for thle best!-iBut I would that this contract had not
taken place, or, having taken place, that it could. have
been fullfilled by your iirliediate union "




TIlE  BtETROTHEIn.                   235
CHAPTER XX.
The King called down Ihis merry-men all,
13y o)le, anlld by two, an(l three;
Earl Marshal was wollt to be the foremost man,
13ut the hindmost man was-he.
Old Ballad.
IF the Lady Eveline retired satisfied and pleased frorn
Lher l)rivate interview with De Lacy, tile joy on tile part
of thle Constable arose to a hiigher pitclh of rapture tllan
le was in thle habit of feeling or expressing; and it was
augmented by  a visit of the leeches wlho attended  his
ne)hewv, froi wlhoin lie received a minute and particular
account of his present disorder, withl every assurance of a
speedy recovery.
The Constable caused almns to be distributed to the
convents and to the poor, masses to be said, and tapers
to be lighlted.  He visited tlle Arcllbishop, and received
firom  himt  his full aplprobation of the course which lie
proposed  to pursue, with  thle promise, that oult of the
plenary power which lie held fromn tile l'ope, tlle Prelate
was *willing, in consideration of his instant obedience, to
limit hlis stay in the Holy Land to the terl11 of tlhree years,
to become current fromn lis leaving 1Britain, and to iiielude the space necessary for his rettlrn to llis native
countitry.   Indeed, hraving stucceeded in tile main  poillnt
tlhe A:nlbisllop jlldged it wise to concede every 4inferiol
consideration to a person of the Constable's rank a;nd
character, lwhose goodl-will to the proposed expedition
was perhaps as essential to its success as his bodily presonce.
In short, the Constable returned to his pavilion highly
satisfied with the manner.in which lhe had extricated himself from  those diffielulties which in the moniming seeined
alnmost insnlperhle ~   and when his oficers assembled tt:




236          TA1LES OF TIlE  CRUSADERS.
disrobe hJim, (for great feudal lords had their levees ani
couclees, in iinitation of sovereign princes,) lhe distributed gratuities among tlhem, and jested and laughed in a
mucli gayer hunmour t.lan they lhad ever before witnessed.
F' 1or thee," lie said, turning to Vidal tle minstrel,
who, sumptuously dressed, stood  to pay his respects.Jnion(r thle other attendants, "LI wvill give thje noughtl at
present; but do tilou remain by Iny bed-side until I am
asleep, and I wvill next morning reward tlhy minstrelsy as
I like it."
" My lord," said Vidal, "I am already rewarded, both
by thle lhonour, and by tile liveries, which better befit a
royal minstrel tlian one of my Inean faline; but assign
me a subject, and I vill do tny best, not out of greed of
future largesses, but gratitude  ibr last. lavours."
" Granmercy,  good  fellow,"  said  tile  Co-stable.
Guarile," lie added, addressing lis squire, -' let thle
watch be posted, an  doto thou remain within the tentstretch thyself on the bear-hide, and sleep, or listen to the
minstrelsy, as thou likest best.  Thou thinkest thyself
a judge, I hlave heard, of such gear."
It was usual, in thlose insecure times, for some faithful
domestic to sleep at ni1ght within the tent of every great
baron, tlat, if danger arose, le migllt not be unsuilported or uinprotected.  Guarine accordingly drew his sword,
and, takinlg it in his iland, stretched  inimself on the ground
in sucl a manner, thlat, on the sliglltest alarmn, Ihe could
spring up, sword( in hand.   His broad black  eyes, in
which sleep contended  with  a desire to listen  to the
music, were fixed on Vidal, who saw them  glittering in
the reflection of tile silver lamp, like those of a dragon or
basilisk.
After a fexw  preliminary touches on the chords of llis
rote, tihe minstrel requested of the Constable to name the
subject on which lie desired tile exercise of llis powers.
" The truth of woman," answered Hugo de Lacy, as
he laid hlis hlead upon his pillow.
After a short urlelude, the minstrel obeyed, by singipg
nerly ss,,ollmow




T'IE   BETROTITHEID                         2{'7
1.
Woman's faith, and woman's trust1l -ite the cllharacters in (lust;
Stampl them on the rnlning stream,
Priit thliem  on the nooon's pale beam,
And each evanescent letter
Shall le c(earer, firiecr, better,
And nore perinaiient, I ween,
Than tlh thing tg those letters imean.
II.
I have strained the sp;der's thread'Gainst the promise of' a maid;
I have weighed a grain of sand'Gainst lier pliglit of heart and hand;
I told mly trre love of the token,
How lier faith proved ligilt, and her word was broken t
Again her word and troth she plight,
And I believed them again ere night.
Ho{w  now, sir knave,"  said the  Constable, raising
himself on his elbow, " from  what drunken rhymer did
you learn  tllat half-witted satire?"
"Froln  an old, ragged, cross-grained  friend of mine.
called Experience," answered Vidlal.  "' I pray  heaven
lie may never take yotlr lordship, or any  other worthy.nan, under hlis tuition."
" Go to, fellow," said the Constable in  reply; " thou
art one of those wiseacres, I warrant me, that would fain
be thought witty, because  tlott canst make  a jest of
those  lhirngs    wlich wiser men hold worthy of most wo0
siip- the  Ihonlour of  men, and  the  truth  of  womeai.
Dost thou  call thyself a  minstrel, and  hast no  tale of
female fidelity!"
" I had right many a one, noble sir, but I laid  thein,side when I disused my practice of the jesting  part ot
the  Joyous  Science.    Nevertheless, if it pleases your
nobleness to listen, I can sing you an established lay upon
suchl1 a subject."
De Lacy made a sign of acquiescence, and laid himself
as if to slulnber; while Vidal bhgan one of those intero1inabhle and  almnost innIImerahbl  adventures concernina




238         r'AL.EIS OF THE CRUIADIi;RS.;hat paragon of true loverl fair Ysolte; and of the constanlt and uninterrupted  faathi and affection whlich slhe
displayed in numerous situations of difficulty and peril,
to her paramour, tile gallant Sir Tristrem, at tile expense
of her less favoured husband, the luckless King Mark ol
Cornwall; to whom, as all the world kivwvs, Sir Tristrem
was nepllew.
This was not the lay of love and fidelity which De
Lacy would have chosen; but a feeling like sliame pre.
vented his interrupting it, perhaps because he was unwilling to yield to or acknowledge the ullpleasing sensationls
excited by the tenor of the tale.   He soon fell asleep,
or feigned to do so; and the harper continuing for a
time his monotonous  chant, began at length hinmself to
feel tle influence of slumber; his words, and the notes
which he continued to touch upon the harp, were broken
and interrupted, and seemed to escape drowsily fioni;lis fingers and voice.  At length the sound ceased entilrely, and the minstrel seemed to lhave sunk into proloundl
repose, with his head reclining on his breast, alnd one
arm dropped down by his side, while tlle other rested
on his harp.  His slumber, however, was not very lonlg,
andl when he awoke fiom it, and cast his eyes around
him, reconnoitring, by the light of the night-lamp, whlatever was in the tent, lie felt a heavy  hand, which lpressed
his shoulder as if gently to solicit his attention.  At thle
same time the voice of the vigilant Pllilip Guarine whispered in his ear, " Thine office for tile night is ended
-depart.u thine own quarters with all the silence thou
may'st."
The minstrel wrapt himself in his cloak witlhofu reply,
though perhaps not witl'olt feelivg, cone resentment at
a dismissal so unceremoMLous.




'TlHE BETROTHEID,                239
CHAPrTER XX1.
0! then I see Queen Mab has been with you.
Romeo and JLlid.
THE subject on which the mind has last been enraged
at night is apt to occupy our thoughts even during  hiilnber, when Imagination, uncorrected by the orgatls of
sense, weaves her own fantastic web out of whatever
ideas rise at random in the sleeper.  It is not surprising,
therefore, that De Lacy in his dreams had some coniised
idea of being identified with the unlucky Mark of ( orinwall; and that he awakened from such unpleasant vi- ions
with a brow more clouded than when lie was preparing
for his couch on the evening before.  He was silent, and
seemed lost in thought,  while his squire assisted at his
levee with respect now only paid to sovereigns.  " Guarine,"' at length lie said, "' know  you the stout Fleming,
who was. said to have borne him  so well at the siege
of the Garde Doloureuse?-a tall, big, brawny man."
" Surely, my lord," answered his squire; "I know
Wilkin Flammock-I saw him but yesterday."
"' Indeed!" replied the Constable-" Here, meanest
thou?-In this city of Gloucester?"
"Assuredly, my good lord.  He came hither partly
about hIis merchandize, partly, I think, to see his daughter Rose, who is in attendance on the gracious young
Lady Eveline."
" Ie is a stout soldier, is lie not?"
"Like most of his kind-a rampart to a castle, but
rubbish in the field," said the Norman squire.
"Faithful, also, is lie not?" continued the Constable.
6 Faithful as most Flemings, while you can pay for their
faitll," replied Guarine, wondering a little at the unusual
interest. taken in onre whom lhe esteemed a being of ail




t2.4()      TALES OF TIIE CRUSADERS.
infierior order; when, after some farther inquiries, the
Constable ordered the Fleming's attendance to be presently commanlded.
Other business of the morning now occurred, (for his
speedy departure required many arrangements to be
lhastily adopted,) when, as the Constable was giving audience to several officers of his troops, the bulky figure
of WVilkin Flammock was seen at the entrance of the
pavilion, in jerlkin of white cloth, and having only a knife
by his sidce.
" Leave the tent, my masters," said De Lacy, " but
continue in attendance in the neiglbourlhood; for here
colnes one I must speak to inll rivate."
The officers withdrew, and the Constable and Flemillg were left alone.  " You are Wilkin Flarnmmock, who
lought well against the Welch at tle Garde Doloureuse?"
" I did my best, my lord," answered Wilkin —" I was
nound to it by my bargain; and I hope ever to act like
a man of credit."
" Methinks," said the Constable, "' that you, so stout
of limb, and, as I hear, so bold in spirit, might louk a
little higher than this weaving trade of thine."'; No one is reluctant to mend his station, my lord,"
said Wilkin; " yet am  I so far from  complaining of
mine, that I would willingly consent it should never be
better, on condition I could be assured it were never
worse."
"  Nay, but, Flammock," said the Constable, " I mean
higher things for you than your modesty appreliends-J
mean to leave thee in a charge of great trust."
" Let it concern bales of drapery, my lord, and no
Dne will perform it better," said the Fleming.'" Away! thou art too lowly-minded," said the Constable.      V What think'st thou of being dubbed knight,
as tlhy valollr well deserves, and left as Chattelain of the
Garde Dolourenuse?"
" For the knighthood, my lord, I should, crave your
forgiver'ess; for it would sit on me like a gilded helmel




TIE BET"ItTEDID.                 241
ol a hog.  For any charge, whether of castle or cottage, I trust I mighllt disclarge it as well as anotller."
" I fear me thy rank must be in some vway nlended,"
said the Constable, surveying tile unmilitary dress of the
ligure before himn; " it is at present too mean to befit the
protector and guardian of a young lady of high birth
and rank."
"  tlle guardian of a young lady of birth and rank!'
aid Flammock, his lighlt, large eyes turning  larger,
lighter, and rounder as lhe spoke.
"Even thou," said the Constable.   "The Lady Eveline p)roposes to take up her residence in her castle of
thle Garde Doloureuse.  I have been casting about to
whorn I may intrust thle keeping of lher )erson, as well as of
tlie stronglold. Weie I to clhoose solne knight of nalne,as
I 1have many in my hlousehold, hie would be setting about
to do deeds of vassalage uIpon tl)e Welcli, and eng,,ing
nimself in turmoils, whicll would render tile safety of thle
castle precarious; or lie would be absent on feats of
chivalry, tournaments, and lhunting parties; or lie would,
perchance, have sliows of that lighlt nature under the
walls, or even within tile courts of the castle, turning the
socluded and quiet abode, which becomes the situation
of' the Lady Eveline, into the misrule of a dissolute revel.
-Tllee 1 can confide in -tlou wilt figlht when it is requisite, yet wilt not provoke danger for the sake of danger itself-tliy birth, thy habits, will lead thee to avoid
those gaieties, which, however fascinating  to otlhers,
canntot but be distasteful to thee-ty  managemeneitnt will
)e as regular, as I will take care tllat it shall be honolrable; and thy relation to her favourite, Rose, will reunder thy guardianship more agreeable to the Lady Eveline, tlan, percl-ance, one of her own rank-And, to
speak to thee a language which thy nation readily comprellends, the reward, Fleming, for thle regular discharge
of this mlost weigllty trust, shall be beyond thy most flattering hotle i'




242         TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS.
The Flelning had listened to the first part of this discourse wvith an expression of surprise, which gradually
gave way to one of deep and anxious reflection.  HIe
gazed fixedly on thle earth for a minute after tile Constable had ceased speaking, and then raising up hlls eyes
suddenly, said, "It is needless to seek for roundabout
excllses.  This cannot be your earnest, my lord —but if
it is, tlle scheme is noughllt."
" How, and wherefore?" asked the Constable, with
displeased surprise.
" Another man might grasp at your bounty," continued
Wilkin, " and leave you to take chance of the value you
were to receive for it; but 1 ain a downright dealer, I
will not take payment for service I cannot render."'" But I delnand, once more, wherefore tlou cansi
not, or rather wilt not, accept this trust?" said the Constable.  " Surely, if I am  willing to confer such confidence, it is well thy part to answer it."' Truel, my lord," said the Fleming; " blt methlinnks
the noble Lord de Lacy should feel, and the wise Lord
de lacy  should foresee, tllat a Flemish weaver is no
litting guardian for his plighted bride.  Think lier shut
upl in yonder solitary castle, under such respectable p)rotectionl, an(l reflect how long tlle place will be solitary in
tiis land of love anid of advenlture!  We shall llave  iinstrels singing ballads by the threave under our wvindlows.
anl sucll twangling of harps as would be enougll  to
friighten ollr watlls from  tleir foundations, as clerks say
happened to those of Jericho-We shall have as many
knights-errant around us as ever had Charlemnagne, or
King  Arthur.  Mercy on me! A less matter than a fine
and noble recluse immured-so will they term  it-in
a tower, under the guardianship  of an old Flemish
weaver, would bring half the chivalry in England round
us, to break lances, vow vows, display love-liveries, and
I know not what follies besides-Think you such gallants, with the blood flying through their veins like quicksilver, would much mind my bidding them begone?"




T'E BETROTHIED.                  243
6, Draw bolts, up with the draw-bridge, drop portcullis," said the Constable with a constrained smile.
" And thinks your lordship such gallants would mind
these impediments?  Such are tile very essence of the
adventures which they come to seek. —The Knight of
tile Swan woulcd swvim  through the moat-he of the
Eagle would fly over the walls-he of the Thunderbolt
would bulrst open the gates."
" Ply cross-bow and mangonel-" said De Lacy.
"And be besieged in form," said the Fleming, " like
the castle of Tintadgel in thle old hangings, all for the
love of' Itir lady?-And thlen those gay dames and denoiselles, wlho go upon adventure fiom castle to castle,
firom  toulrnament to tournament, withl bare bosoms, flaunting p)lumes, poiiiards at their sides and javelins in their
hands, chattering like magpies, and fluttering like jays,
and, ever and anon, cooing like doves,-low  am I to
exclude such firom the Lady Eveline's privacy?"
" By keeping doors shliut, I tell thee," answered the
Constable, still in the same tone of forced jocularity;;' a woo(len bar %will be thly warrant."
" Ay, but," answvered Flanmniock, " if the Fliemish
weaver say shut, when the Normlan young lady says open,
think whlichl has best chance of being obeyed? At a word,
my lord, for tlhe matter of guardianshlip, and such like, I
wash my hands of it-I would not undertake to be guardian to the chaste Susannah, thougIh1l she iived in an enchanted castle whichl no living thling could approach."
" Thou loldest the language and thouglts," said De
Lacy, " of a vulgar debauchee, who laughs at female
constancy, because he has lived only with the most
worthless of the sex.  Yet thlou should'st know the contrary, having, as I know, a mnost vilrtuOUS dall(ughter-"
" Whose mother was not less so," said Wilkin, breaking in iponii thle Constable's speech with somewltiat more
elnotion tlan lie usually displayed.  " But law, my lord,,_save in:e authority to govern and direct -nmy wife, as both
law and nature give me power and charge over my daughter. Thlat which I can govern, I can be answerable for




244          TALES OF TH'I CRUSADERS.
but hlow to discharge me so well of a delegated trust, is
anotlher questiGn. —Stay at home, any good!ord," conl
tinued  thle honest Fleming, observing that his speecih
made some impression upon De Lacy; "let a fool's advice for once be of avail to change a wise man's purpose,
taken, let me say, in no wise hour.   Remain in yoiur
own land —rule your own vassals-and protect your own
bri.e   You only can claim her cheerful love and ready
obedience; and sure I am, that, withlout pretending to
guess what she may do if separated trom  you,, slhe will,
unlldler your own eye, do the dcuty of a faithful and a loving spouse."
"' And the Holy Septi:chre?" said the Constable, with
a sigh, his heart confessing the wisdom of tle advice,
which circumstances prevented Iiim from following.
" Let those who lost the Holy Sepulchre regain it, my
lord," replied Flammock.  " If tllose Latins and Greeks,
as they call them, are no better men than I have heard.
It signifies very little wllether they or tlhe leatlen have.
the country that has cost Europe so much blood ana
treasure."' n good faith," said the Constable, " there is sense
in what thou say'st; but I caution thee to repeat it not,
lest thou be taken for a heretic or a Jew.  For me, my
word and oath are pledged beyond retreat, and I have
only to consider whom I nmay best name for tlbat important station, whichl thy caution hias-not without some
shadow of reason-induced thee to decline."
" There is no man to whom  your lordship can so'latlrally  or honourably transfer such a charge,"  said
Wilkin Flainmock. " as to the kinsman near to youl, and
oossessed of your trust; yet mucht better would it be
were there no such trust to be reposed in any one."
If;," said thle Constable. " by mYn near kinslfman, you
mean Randal de Lacy, I care not if I tell you, thlat I
consider himii  as totally worthless, and undeserving     o
honourable confidence."'0 Nay. I mean  another," said Flammock,' nearer
to vou by blood, and, unless I greatly mistaklo  muich




THE BETROTHEI)                  2.4b
aigher also in affection —I had in mind your r el hew
Damlian de Lacy."
The Constable started as if a wasp had stung llim
but instantly replied, with forced composure, " Damian
was to have gone in my stead to Palestine-it now seemns
I must go in his; for, since this last illness, tile leeches
have totally changed their minds, and consider that
warmth of the climate as dangerous, which they formerly decided to be salutary.  But our learned doctors, like
our learned priests, must ever be in the right, change
their counsels as they may; and we poor laymen still
in the wrong.  I can, it is true, rely on Damian with thle
utmost confidence; but he is young, Flammock —-very
young-and, in that particular, resembles but too nearly
the party who might be otherwise committed to his
charge."
" Then once more, my lord," said the plain-spoken
Fleming, " remain at home, and be yourself the protector
of what is naturally so dear to you."
" Once more I repeat that I cannot," answered the
Constable.  "The step which I have adopted as a great
duty, may perhaps be a great error-l only know tlhat it
is irretrievable."
" Trust your nephew, then, my lord,' replied Wilkin
-" lie is honest and true; and it is better trusting young
lions than old wolves.  He may err, perhaps, bhut it will
not be firom premeditated treachery."
" Thou art right, Flammock," said the Constable;' and perllaps I ought to wish I had sooner asked thy
counsel, blunt as it is.  But let what has rassed he a
secret betwixt us; and bethink thee of something that
nay advantage thee more than the priv!ege of speaking
about my affairs."
"That accompt will be easily settled, my lord," replied Flammock; "for my object was to ask your lordship's favour to obtain certain extensions of our privileges
ii yonlder wild corner where we Flemings have made
our retreat."
VOL. 1.




246         T4LES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
" Tllou shalt have them, so they be not exorbitant,'
3aid the Constable.   And the honest Flemini, arnonlv
whose good qualities scrupulous delicacy was not the
foremost, hastened to detail, with great minuteness, thle
particulars of his request or petition, long pursued in vain,
but to which this interview  was the means of insuring
success.
The Constable, eager to execute the resolution which
he had formed, hastened to the lodging of Damian de
Lacy, and, to the no small astonishnL,;e:. of his nephew,
intimated to him his change of destination; alleging his
own hurried delparture, Damian's late and present illness,
together with the necessary protectionl L be afforded to
the Lady Eveline, as reasons why his nephew must needs
remain behind hini-to represent him during his absence
— to protect the family rights, and assert the family honour of the house of De Lacy-above all, to act as the
guardian of the young and beautiful bride, whom  his
uncle and patron had been in some measure compelled
to abandon for a time.
Darmian yet occupied his bed while the Constable cornmunicatecl thisclllangeof purp!ose. Perhaps ie might tlink
the circulnstance fortunate, that in this p)osition lie could
conceal fromn lis uncle's observation the various emnotions
which lie could not hlell feeling; while the Constable,
with the eagerness of one who is dtesirous of hastily fi:slh —
ing what lie has to say on an tnplieasing subject, hulrried
over an account of the arrangenlents wliich lie lhad mrade,
in order that his nepllew  mighlt have the means of disclharginll, with sufficient effect, the important trust comnritted to him.tn
Ther_ youth listened as to a voice in a dream, which he
tad not the power of iiterruptin-, though there was
sotnmeling within lim;n which whlisperedl thiere wcr.lld be both
prtuden "e and iltcg,'ity in ll relonstrtig  Raginst }i is Iuncle's
alteraii:, n of Ilan.  Somilethlingi lie accoltliigl!y atteinpted
to say, when thle Constable at lengtli patsed; butt ir was
too feebly spoken to shla'"c a resolution fiully thliough hastily adopted, Lnd explicitly announced, by one not in tlit




THE  BETROTHED.                 2 17
use to speak be Ore his purpose. was fixed, or to alter ii
wtien it was declared.
The renmonstrance of Damian, besides, if it could be
termhed such, was spoken in terms too contradictory to be
intelligible.  In One moment he professed his regret for
tile laurels whlich he had hoped to gather in Palestine.
and implored his uncle not to alter his purpose, but
permit hitn to attend his banner thither; and in the next
sentence, he professed his readiness to defend the safety
of Lady Eveline with the last drop of his blood.  De
Lacy saw nothing  inconsistent in these feelings, though
they were for the moment contradictory to each other.
It was natural, he thought, that a young knight should be
desirous to win honour- natural also that he should willingly assume a charge so honourable and important as
that with which he proposed to invest him; and therefore
lie thought it was no wonder that, assuming his new office
willingly, the young man should yet feel regret at losing
the prospect of honourable adventure, which he must
abandon.  He therefore only smiled in reply to the broken expostulations of his nephew; and, having confirmed
his former arrangement, left the young man to reflect at
leisure on his change of destination, while he himself, in
a second Visit tr. the Benedictine Abbey, communicated
the purpose which he had adopted, to the Abbess, and
to his bride-elect.
The displeasure of the former lady was in no measure
abated by this communication; in which, indeed, she
affected to take very little interest.  She pleaded her
religious duties> and her want of knowledge of secular
affairs, if she should chance to mistake the usages or
the world; yet she had always, she said, understood.
that the guardians of the young and beautiful of her
own sex were chosen from the more mature of the other.' Your own unkindness, lady," answered the Constaole, " leaves mne no better choice than I have made
Since the Lady Eveline's nearest friends deny her the,il'vilege of their roof, on account of the claim  with
which she llas honoulred me, 1, on my side, wore wortse




248         T'ALES OF THE CRUS1 DERS.
than ungrateful did I not secure for her the protection
of my nearest male heir.  Damnian is young, but he Is
true and honourable; nor does the chivialry of England
afford me a better choice."
Eveline seemed surprisesd, and even struck with consternation, at the resolution which her bridegroon thtts
suddenly announced; and perhaps it was fortunate that
the remark of the Lady Abbess made the answer of the
Constable necessary, and prevented him fronm observing
that her colour shifted more than once from pale to deep
red.
Rose, who was not excluded from  the conference,
drew close up to her mistress; and, by affecting to adjust her veil, while in secret she strongly pressed her
hand, gave her time and encouragement to compose her
mind for a reply. It was brief and decisive, and announced with a firmness which showed that the uncertainty of the moment had passed away or been suppressed.  " In case of danger," she said, " she would
not fail to apply to Damian de Lacy to come to her aid,
as he had once done before; but she did not apprehend any danger at present, within her own secure castle of the Garde Doloureuse, where it was her purpose
to dwell, attended only by hier own household.  She was
resolved," she continued, "' in consideration of her peculiar condition, to observe the strictest retirement, which
she expected would not be violated even by the noble
young knight who was to act as her guardian, unless some
apprehension for her safety made his visit unavoidable."
The Abbess acquiesced, though coldly, in a proposal,
which her ideas of decorum  recommended; and preparations were hastily made for the Lady Eveline's return to the castle of her father.  Two interviews which
intervened before her leaving the convent, were in their
nature painfill. The first was when Damian was formally
presented to her by his uncle, as the delegate to wlhom
he had committed the charge of his own property, and,
which was much dearer to him, as he affirmed, the pro
tection of her pe:son and interest.




TI1E   B r. ROTIHEL..'249
Eei. ie scarce trusted herseif with one glance; but.hat sinlie look co-nprelhelided and reported t. hler tile Iavage wliiclh disease, aid(ed by secret orief, had ma(le on thle
manly form and handsome countenance of the youth befor6e ler.  She received his salutation in a  iannler as
embarrassed as that in which it was made; and, to hi,
hesitating prof'fer of service, answered, that she trusted
only to be obliged to llim for his good-will during the
interval of his uncle's absence.
IHer parting witi the Constable was the next trial which
she was to undergo.  It was not without einotion, although she preserved her modest composure, and De
Lacy llis calm gravity of deportment.  His voice faitere(1, however, when lie came to announce, " that it were
tlljust she should be bound by the engagement which
she had been graciouslv contented to abide under. Three
years lie had assigned for its term; to which space the
Arcilbisliop Baldwin hlad consented to shorten tlhe period
of hlis absence. 1f' I appear not when these are elapse(d,
i!e said, " let the Lady Eveline conclude that the grave
lholdls De Lacy, and seek out for her mate somne happier
man.- She cannot find one more grateful, though there
are many w\lo better deserve her."
On these terms thiey parted; and the Constable, speedily afterwards embarking, ploughed tile narrow seas for
the shores of Flanders, vwhere he pl'oposed to unite his
forces with the Count of that rich and warlike country,
who had lately taken the Cross, and to proceed by the
route which should be found most practicable on their
destination for the Holy Land.  The broad -pennon,
withi tile arms of the IJacys, streamed forward with a
favourable wind firom the prow of the vessel, as if pointing to the quarter of the hlorizon wilere its renolwn was
to be a1)augmented; and, considering the fame of the
lealer, anlld the excellence of the soldiers who follo-Ned
hlimll a  mLore gallant band, in propt rtion to their nunibers, never wevent to avenge on the Sarace:ls the evils
endlired bf the Iatins of Palestine.




250         TAIES OF TIE, CRUSADERS.
Meanw-hile Eveline, after a cold parting with the Ab.
bess, whose offended dignity had not yet forgiven the
slight regard which she had paid to her opinion, resumed
her journey homeward to her paternal castle, where her
household was to be arranged in a manner suggested by
the Constable, and approved of by herself.
The same preparations were made for her accommodation at every halting-place which she had experienced
upon her journey to Gloucester, and, as before, the pur
veyor was invisible, althoughl she could be at little loss to
guess his name.  Yet it appeared as if the character of
these preparations was in some degree altered.  All the
realities of convenience and accommodation, with the
most perfect assurances of safety, accompanied her
every where on the route; but they were no longer ming..
led with that display of tender gallantry and taste, which
mnarked that the attentions were paid to a young and
beautiful female.  The clearest fountain-head, and thle
most shady grove, were no longer selected for the noontide repast; but the house of some franklin, or a small
abbey, afforded the necessary hospitality.  All seemed
to be ordered with the most severe attention to rank and
Jecorum-it seemed as if a nun of some strict order.,
rather than a young maiden of high quality and a rich
inheritance, had been journeying through the land; and
Eveline, though pleased with the delicacy which seemed
thus to respect her unprotected and peculiar condition,
would sometimes think it unnecessary, that, by so many
indirect hints, it should be forced on her recollection.
She thought it strange also, that Damian, to whose care
she had been so solemnly committed, did not even pay
his respects to her on the road.   Something there was
which whispered to her, that close and frequent inter
course might be unbecoming-even dangerous; but surely the ordinary duties of a knight and gentleman enjoinea
him some personal communication with the maiden under
his escort, were it only to ask if her accommodations
had been made to her satisfaction, or if she had any
special wish which was tiunratified. The onlv intercourse,




r'1HE BEITROTHFED.              251
however, which took place betwixt them, was throuIih
means of Amelot, Darnian de Lacy's youthful page, who
came at mnorn and evening  to receive Eveline's commands concerning their route, and the hours of journey
and repose.
These formalities rendered the solitude of Eveline's
return less endurable; and had it not been for the  ociety of Rose, she would have found herself tinder an
intolerably irksome degree of constraint.  She even
hazarded to her attendant some remarks upon the singularity of De Lacy's conduct, who, authorized as he was
by his situation, seemed yet as much afraid to approach
her as if she had been a basilisk.
Rose let the first observation of this nature pass as it
it had been unheard; but when her mistress made a
secoad remark to the same purpose, she answered, with
the truth and freedom of her character, though perhaps
with less of her usual prudence, " Damnian de Lacy
judges well, noble lady.  He to whom the safe keeping
of a royal treasure is intrusted, should not indulge himself too often by gazing upon it."
Eveline blushed, wrapt herself closer in her veil, nor
(lid she again during their journey mention the name ol
Damian de Lacy.
When the grey turrets of the Garde Doloureuse greeted her sight on the evening of the second day, and she
once more beheld her father's banner floating from its
highest watch-tower in honour of her approach, her sensations were mingled with pain; but, upon the whole
she looked towards that ancient home as a place of refuge,
where she might indulge the new train of thoughts which
circumstances had opened to her, amid the same scenes
which had sheltered her infancy and childhood.
She pressed forward her palfrey, to reach the ancient
portal as soon as possible, bowed hastily to the wellknown faces which showed themselves on all sides, but
spoke to no one, until, dismounting at the chapel door,
she had penetrated to the crypt, in wrlich was preserved
the miraculous painting. There, prostrate on the ground.




4252          T'ALES'OF THE  CRUSADERS.
dshe  implored tle guildance and pro!ection  of thle Holy
Virgipn throtlgll those itricacies in wlliclh she had involved Ihself;  by flfilllnellt of the vow wvllich she had made
in tier anguish before thle sanme shrine.  If tlhe prayer was
misdirected, its purlort was virtuous and siiicere; ror
are we disposed to doubt tlhat it attained  that Heai:n
towards which it was devoutly addressed.
CHAPTER XXII.
The Virgin's image fals-yet some, I wren,
Not unforgiven the suppliant knee, might bend,
As to a visible pro\er, ill which might blend
All liat was Imix'd, and reconciled in her
01 morlier's lov- with maidlen's plurity,
Of lhigh with (lo,, celestial with terrcne.
WORDS WORTH.
TILE  household  of the  Lady Eveline, though of an
establishment becoming  her present and future rank,
was of a solemn and sequestered character, correspon(ding to her place of residence, and the privacy connected
with her situation, retired as she +wxas from  the class of
maidens who are yet unengaged, and yet not united with
that of matrons, who enjoy the protection of a married
name.  Her immediate fermale atten)dants, with whom the
reader is already acquainted, constituted   alnmost her whole
society.  The garrison of the castle, besides household
servants, c;nsisted of veterans of tried faith, the followers of Berengerl and of De lacy in many a bloody field,
to whom  the duities of wiatchino  aend \vardino wer'e as
familiar as arty of their more or dinary   occupations, a.nd
whose courage, nevertheless, teimperedl by ace atnd experience, was niot likely to eniaoe in any rash adventure or
accidental quarrel.  These mnen maintainecd   a constant
and watchful guard, commanded by the steward, but un



TIIE'  ETRlOTrIIED               263
der the eve of Father Ald.rovand, who, besides discharg.
inug his ecclesiastical functions, was at times pleased to
show some sparkles of his ancient military education.
Whilst this garrison afforded security against any sudioen attempt on the part of the Welch to surprise the
(:astle, a strong body of forces were disposed within a few
1niles of the Garde Doloureuse, ready, on the least alarm,
to advance to defend the place against any more numerous
boldy of invaders, who, undeterred by the fate of Gwenwyn,
iniTht have the hardihood to form a regular siege. To this
band, which, under thle eye of Damian de Lacy himself,
was kept in constant readiness for action, could be added
on occasion all the military force of the AMarches, comprising the numerous bodies of Flemings, and other foreigners, who held their establishments by military tenure.
While the fortress was thus secure from hostile violence,.the life of its inmnates was so unvaried and simple, as
might have excused youth and beauty for wishing for
variety, even at the expense of some danger.  The
labours of the needle were only relieved by a walk round
the battlements, where Eveline, as she passed arm in arm
with Rose, received a military salute from each sentinel
in turn, or in the court-yard, where the caps and bonnets
of the domestics paid her the same respect which she
received above firom the pikes and javelins of the warders.  Did they wish to extend their airing beyond the
castle gate, it was not sufficient that doors and bridges
were to be opened and lowered; there was besides an
escort to get under arms, who, on foot or horseback as
the case might require, attended for the security of the
I ady Eveline's person.  Without this military attendance
thiey could not in safety move even so far as the mills,
whlere honest Wilkin Flarnmock, his warlike deeds fbrgotten, wvas occupied with his mechanical labours.   But
if a further disport was intended, and the Lad)y of the
Garde Doloureuse l)roposed  to hunt or hawk for a few
hours, her safety was not confided to a guard so feeble
as tie garrison of the castle could afrord.  It was nefes12  vOL. 1.




;)t 5       TALES OF THE CRUSADFU(S.
sary tblat Rnoul should announce her putlnpse to Dtamian
by a special messenger despatched the evening- before.
thiat there mnight be time before dayN-break to scour, with
a body of light cavalry, the region in which she intended
to take her pleasure; and sentinels were placed in ali
suspicions places xwhile she continued in the field.  in
truth, she tried, upon one or two occasions, to mate an
excursion, without any formal annunciation of her intention; but all her purposes seemed to be known to Damiau
as soon as they were formed, and she was no sooner
abroad than parties of archers and spearmen from his camp
were seen scourin tlhe valleys,and guarding tf.e mountain-pass, and Damnian's own plumre vas usually beheld
conspicuous among the distant soldiers.
The formality of these preparations su ituch allayed
the pleasure derived from the sport, that Eveline seldom
resorted to amusement which was attended with such
bustle, and put in motion so many persons.
The day being worn out as it best might, in the evening
Father Aldrovand was wont to read out of some holy
legend, or firom the homilies of some departed saint, such
passages as lie deemed fit for the hearing of his little
congregation.  Sometimes also he read and expounded
a chapter of the Holy Scripture; but in such cases, the
good man's attention was so strangely turned to the military part of the Jewish bistory, that he was never able to
quit the books of Judges and of Kings, together with the
tri.imphs of Judas Maccabeus; although the manner in
which he illustrated the victories of the children of
Israel, was much more amusing to himself than edifying
to his female audience.
Sometimes, but rarely, Rose obtained permission for
a strolling minstrel to entertain an hour with his ditty of
love and chivalry; sometimes a pilgrim  fiom  a distant
shrine, repaid by long tales of the wonders which he had
seen in other'lands, the hospitality which the Garde Dolmureuse afforded; and sometimes also it happened, thai
the interest and intercession of the tiring-womrran obtained
admission for travel in.g merchants or pedlars, who, al




TIHE BETROTHED.                   25L,he risk of their lives, found profit by carrying firom cas.
tie to castle tile materials of rich dresses and femrale or
mnarents.
Tile usual visits of mendicants, of jugg,lers, of travel
lig jesters, are not to be forgotten in this/ list of amusements; and though his nation subjectad him  to close
watch and observation, even the Welch bard, with his
lhuge  harp strung  with horse hair, was sometimes admitted to vary the uniformity of their secluded life.  But,
saving such amusemnents, and saving also the regular attendance upon the religious duties at the chapel, it was
impossible for life to glide away in more wearisome monotony than at tlhe castle of the Garde Doloureuse.
Since the death of its brave owner, to whom feasting and
hospitality seemed as natural as thoughts of honour and
deeds of chivalry, the gloom of a conoent might be said
to have enveloped the ancient mansion of Raymond Berenger, were it not that the presence of so many armed
warders, stalking in solemn state on the battlements, gave
it rather the aspect of a state-prison; and the temper
of the inhabitants gradually became infected by the character of their dwelling.
The spirits of Eveline in particular felt a depression,.whlichl her naturally lively temper was quite inadequate
to resist; and as her ruminations became graver, had
caught that calm  and contemplative manner, which'is
so often united with an ardent and enthusiastical temperament.  She meditated deeply upou the former accidents of her life; nor -can it be wondered that her
thoaglits repeatedly wandered back to the two several
periods on which she had witnessed, or supposed that
she had witnessed, a supernatural appearance.  Then it
was that it often seemed to her, as if a good an'd evri
power strove for mastery over her destiny.
Solitude is favourable to feelings of self-importance 
and it is when alone, and occupied only with their own
thoughts, that fanatics have reveries, and imagined saints
lose tlhemselve-c in imtaginalry ecstasies.  With Eveline
the int iilencc of ent!usiasm went not Qt'11{ a lellgthl. ycIt




2.fif'1JTAIES OF THIE CRIU1,DE. S.
t. seemed to hier as if in tile vision of the night The saw
sonmetimes the aspect of thle Lady of the Garde Dolourelse, bencing upon hler glances of pity, comfiort, and
protection; sometimes the ominous form  of the Saxon
castle of Baldringham, holding up the bloody hand as
witness of tile injuries with which she had been treated
whlile in life, and menacing with revenge the descendant
of hier murderer.
On awaking from such dreams, Eveline would reflect
that she was tile last branch of her house-a house to
which the tutelage and protection of the miraculous
Image, and the enmity and evil influence of the rere,.gefull Vanda, had been peculiarly attached for ages.
It seemed to h. r as if she were the pri;,e, for the disposal of which the benign saint and vindictive fiend were
now to play their last and keenest game.
Thus thinking, and experiencing little interruption ol
her meditations firom any external circumstance of interest and amusement, she became pensive, absent, wrapt
herself up in contemplations which withdrew hler attention from  the conversation around her, and walked in
the world of reality like one who is still in a dream.
When she thought of hler engagement with the Constable
cf Chester, it was with resignation, but without *a wish,
and almost without an expectation, that she would be
called upon to fulfil it.  She had accomplished her vow
by accepting the faithl of her deliverer in exchange for
her own; and although she held herself willing to redeem
the pledge-nay, would scarce confess to herself lhe
il'luctance with which she thouglht of doing so-yet it is
certain that she entertained unavowed hopes that Our
l,ady of the Garde Doloureuse would not be a severe
cred(itor; but, satisfied with the readiness she had shlown
to accomplishl her vow, would not insist upon hler clailn
in its iull rigour.  It would have been the blackest ingr;tintu(le, to have wished that hler gallant deliverer
w\lloi Ti e had so much cause, to pray for, slould experience Dny of those fatalities which in the Holy Land so
often cllanc,,el tile laurlel-xvreatlh into cypress; but other




THE  BETItOTHED.                     257
accidents ihanced, when men had been long abroad, tG
altet those  pur)oses with which they had left honme.
A strolling minstrel, who soughlt the Garde Doloureulse
lhad recited, for the amusement of tlle lady and house
hloldl, the celebrated lay of the Count of Gleichen, who
already mnarried in his orwn country, laid himself under so
many obligations in the east to a Saracen princess, through
whllose means he achieved his freedom, that lie married
hbo  also.  The Pope and his conclave were pleased to
approve of the double wedlock, in a case so extraordinary; and the good Count of Gleichen shared his nuptial
bed between two wives of equal rank, and now  sleeps
between them, under the same Inonument.
The commentaries of the inmates of the castle had
been various and discrepant upon tlhis legend.   Father
Aldrovand considered it as altogether false, and an unworthy calumny on tile hlead of the church, in affirming his
Holiness  wvould  countenance  sucll irregularity.   Old
M1arjory, xwitli tile tender-lleartedness of an ancient nurse,
wept ~bitterly for ptity during tlhe tale, andl never (questioning eitl)er tile 1rower ol tile Polpe, or the preolpiety of' llis
dfecision, was pleasedl that a mhode of extricationl was oulrnd
for a corlllllication of love (listresses wlhiclh seeinedl alliost
inextricable.  Datne Gillian declared it unreasonable, tllat,
since a vwonian \vwas only allowed  one [lus:antl, a nlan
slihould, lflelr an'y circllinsta lces, )e )erini ttedl to lrave two
wives; whilst Rlaoul, glanicing towards her a look of verjjuice, litied( the del)lorabie idiocy of tlle man wleo  could
be fbol enlouglh to avail hlimlself of such a p)rivilege.
" leace, all tile rest of yotl," said thle Lady Eveline;
" an;i do youl, imy  dear Rose, tell me your judgiment ulinl
tihis Count of Gleicicen a1ndf  llis two wives."
R]ose blushed, andl replied, " Shle was not minrl] acCIustomned to thlilk of such llatterS; but tlhlt, in Ir 1 ap)ireliension, tlie wif'e'\!o coll(i be coalteited wvitil bhut one
Ialt' of ier lurtshancd's affectioins, hfadi never deserved tc
engage thie slightest sllare of tlemn."
T'lioti alt p1artly right, Rose," said Eveline; "and
anetllil-ls the European  lady, xwhen she found  liersell
VOl.. 1.




TALES OF THE (RUSADElRS.
outshone by the young and beautiful foreign princess
would have best consulted her own dignity in resigning
the place, and giving the Holy Father no more trouble
than in annulling tile marriage, as has been done in cases
of more frequent occurrence."
This she said with an air of indifference and even
gaiety, which intimated to her faithiful attendant with how
little effort she herself could have made such a sacrifice,
and served to indicate the state of her affections towards
the Constable.  But there was another than the Constable on whom her thoughts turned more frequently, though
involuntarily, than perhaps in prudence they should hlave
done.
The recollections of Damian de Lacv had not been
erased from Eveline's mind.  They were, indeed, rcnewed by hearing his name so often mentioned, and by
knowing that he was almost constantly in the neighbourhood, with his whole attention fixed upon her convenience, interest, and safety; whilst, on the other hand, so
far from waiting on her in person, he never even attempt-.
ed, by a direct communication with herself, to consult
her pleasure, even upon what most concerned her.
The messages conveyed by Father Aldrovand, or by
Rose, to Amelot, Damian's page, while they gave an air
of formality to their intercourse, which Eveline thought
unnecessary, and even unkind, yet served to fix her attention upon the connection between them, and to keep
it ever present to her memory. The remark by which
Rose had vindicated the distance observed by her youthful guardian, sometimes arose to her recollection; and
while her soul repelled with scorn the suspicion, that, in
any case, his presence, whether at intervals or constantly,:ould be prejudicial to his uncle's interest, she conjured
tip various arguments for giving him a fi'equent place in
her mnemory.-Was it not her duty to think of Damian
often and kindly, as the Constable's nearest, best-loved,
and most trusted relative?-Was he not her former deliverer and her present guardian?-And'might he not be
c0ossidtered q- an instrument specially elmploved by her




THE BETROTHED.                   259
Ovine patloness, in rendering effectual the protection.
with whlich she hall graced her in more than one enE.rgency?
Eveline's mind mutinied against the restrictions which
were laid on their intercourse, as against'something which
inferred suspicion and degradation, like thl -oompelled
seclusion to which she had heard the Paynim infidels of
the East subjected their females.  Why should she see
her guardian only in the benefits which he conferred upon
hei, and the cares lie took for her safety, and hear his
seiltiments only by the mouth of others, as if one of thein
had been infected with the plague, or some other fatal or
infectious disorder, which might render their meeting dangerous to the other?-And if they did meet occasionally, what else could be the consequence, save that the
care of a brother towards a sister-of a trusty and kind
guardian to the betrothed bride of his near relative and
honoured patron, might render the melancholy seclusion
of the Garde Doloureuse more easy to be endured by one
so young in years, and, though dejected by present circumstances, naturally so gay in temper?
Yet, though this train of reasoning appeared to Eveline,
when tracing it in her own mind, so conclusive, that she
several times resolved to communicate her view of the
case to Rose Flammock, it so chanced that, whenever
she looked on the calm steady blue eye of the Flemish
maiden, and remembered that her unblemished faith was
mixed with a sincerity and plain dealing proof against
every consideration, she feared lest she might be subjected in the opinion of her attendant to suspicions firom
which her own mind freed her; and her proud Norman
spirit revolted at the idea of being obliged to justify herself to another, when she stood self-acquitted to her own)
mind.  " Let things be as they are," she said; " and let
ius endure all the weariness of a life which might be so
easily rendered more cheerfuil, rattler than that this zealous but punctilious friend should, in the strictness and
uicety of her feelings on my account, conceive me capable
If encourag ing an illtercouLrso  Wlhich could lead to a less




260          TALES OF TIE  CRUSADERS.
wortlhy thought of me in the mind of tile lnost sctrup_-ilbius
of man-or of woman-kind."   But even this vacillation
of opinion and resolution tended to bring tile image of the
llandsome young Da-nian more frequently  before the
Lady Evelile's fancy, tlhan perhllaps hlis uncle, ihad he
known it, wolild altogetlher lhave ap),loved of.  In such
reflections, hlowever, she never indullged long, ere a sense
of the singular destiny vhlich hlad hitllerto attended her,
led lher back into the more melanclloly comtenlllations
froln which tile buoyancy of ller youthllfulJ f.any had for
a sliort time emancipated her.
CHAPTER XXIII.
----— Ors is the skie,
Wh'llere at what fbwl -we p)lease our hawk shall flie.
Randolph.
ONE bright September morning, old Rnaoul was bus)
in the mewvs wliere lie kept his ]havkis, grurnblilg all the
vwhile to hlitmself as lie surveyed tlle condition of eac]h
bird, and blaming   alternately the carelessness of the tinder-falconer, and tlle situation of thle building, andt the
weather, and the wind, and all tilings around hitm, for
the dilapidation which timne and disease had made in the
neglected hawking establishment of the Garde Doloureuse.  While in these unpleasing meditations, he was surprised by tile voice of his beloved Dame Gillian, who
seldomN was an early riser, andc yet more rarely3 visited hin,
whlen lie was in his sphlere of peculiar autllority. " Raoul
RaoJul! whlere art tlhou, man?-Ever to seek for, when
thou canist make otuglht of advantage for thy-self or ire "
4 And  hllat Nwant'st tliou, dame?" said IRaoil,' w.lat
means thy screarming worse tlan the sea-gull before Nwet
weather?  A mrrurrain on thy voice t it is enouglh to fray
tverrt  halwk fotn tl l? perchll."




THE BETROThIIED.                    1
~' Hawk!" answered Dame Gillian; " it is time to be
looking for hawks, when here is a cast of the bravest fal-::ons come hither for sale that ever flew by lake, brook,
or meadow."
" Kites! like her that brings the news," said Raoul.
" No, nor keistrils like him  that hears it," replied
Gillian;   but brave jerfalconls, with large nares, strongly armed, and beaks short and something bluish-"
P" shaw, with thy jargon!-.'Where came thley from?'
3said Raoul, interested in the tidings, but unwilling to give
his wife the satisfaction of seeing that he was so.
" Frorn the Isle of Man," replied Gillian.
"They must be good, then, though it was a woman
brought tidings of them," said Raoul, smiling grimly at
ilis own wit; then, leaving the mews, he demanded to klnow
vlwhere this famous falcon-mnerchant was to be met withal
"Why, betwejen the barriers and the inner gate.'
replied Gillian, "wwhere other men are admitted that
have wares to utter-Where should lie be?"
" And who let him  in?" demanded the suspicious
Raoul.
W' Why, -Master Steward, thou owl!" said Gillian;;' he came but now to my chamber, and sent me hither to
call youL."
" Oh, the steward-the steward-I might have guessed as much.  And he camne to thy chamber, doubtless,
because lie could not hlave as easily come hither to me
himself. —Was it not so, sweetheart?"
" I do not know why he chose to come to me rather
than to you, Raoul," said Gillian; " and if I did know,
perhaps I would not tell you.  Go to-miss your bargain,
or make your bargain, I care not whvlicl-the man will
not wait for you —he has good proffers from the Senes-:hal of Malptas, and the Welchll Lord of Dinevawr."
" I corne-I come," said Raoul, who felt the necessity
uf embracing tills opportunity of improving his hawkina
astablisl'nment, and hastened to the gate, where he mnet the
mercha::t, attended by a servant,.who kept in separate
eaaes the trliee falcons which he offered for sale




2 (62       TALES OF THIE CRUSADERSo
The first glance satisfied Raoul that they were of the
nest breed in Europe, and that, if their education were
in correspondence to their race, there could scarce be
a more valuable addition even to a royal mews.  The
merchant did not fail to enlarge upon all their points of
excellence; the breadth of their shoulders, the strength
of their train, their full and fierce dark eyes, the boldness with which they endured the approach of strangers,
and Ithe lively spirit and vigouI' with which they pruned
their plumes, and shook, or, as it was technically termed,
roused themselves.  He expatiated on the difficulty and
danger with which they were obtained from the Rock of
Ramsey, on wl-ich they were bred, and which was an
eyry unrivalled even on the coast of Norway.
Raoul turned apparently a deaf ear to all these commendations.  "'Friend merchant," saia be, "I know a
falcon as well as thou dost, and I will not deny that thine
are fine ones; but if they be not carefully trained and
reclaimed, I would rather have a goss-hawk on my perch,
than the fairest falcon that ever stretched wing to weather."
I  grant ye," said the merchant; " but if we agree
on the price, for that is the main matter, thou shalt see
the birds fly if thou wilt, and then buy them or not as
thou likest.  I am no true merchant if thou ever sawest
birds beat them, whether at the mount or the stoop."
"That I call fair," said Raoul, " if the price be equally so."
" It shall be corresponding," said the hawk-merchant;
"for I have brought six casts from the island, by the
good favour of good King Reginald of Man, and I have
sold every feather of them save these; and so, having
emptied my cages and filled my purse, I desire not to be
troubled longer with the residue; and if a good feilow,
and a judge, as thou seemest to be, should like the hawks
when he has seen them fly, he shall have the price of
his own making.:"
"Go to," said Raoul, "'we will have no blind bargains; my lady, if the hawks be suitable, is more able to




THE  YE'lrttOTIF;).             263
pa) for theim than thou to give thern away. —-Will a
oezant be a comforimable price for the cast?"
"' A bezant, Master Falconer! —By my faitl you are
no bold bodesman! nevertheless, double your offer, and I
will consider it."
"' If the hawks are well reclaimed," said Raoul, " I
will give you a bezant and a half, and I will see them
strikie a heron ere I will be so rash as deal with you."
" It is well," said the merclhant, " and I had better take
your offer tlian be longer cumbered with them; for were
I to carry them into Wales, I might get paid in a worse
fashlion by some of their long knives. —Will you to horse
presently?"
" Assuredly," said Raoul; " and, thougli March be the
fitter month for hawking  at the hleron, yet I will show you
one of these frogpeckers for the trouble of riding the
matter of a mile by the water-side."
" Content, Sir Falconer," said the merchant.  " But
are we to go alone, or is there no lord or lady in the
castle wlio would take pleasure to see a piece of game
gallantly struckl?  1I am not afraid to show these hawks
to a countess.:'
L" iy lady rused to love the sport well enough,"  said
Raoul;' but I wot not why, she is moped and mazed
ever since her father's death, and lives in her fair castle
like ar tn in acloister, witlhout disport or revelry of any
kind. —Nevertheless, Gillian, thou canst do something
with her-,ood no0xv, do a kind deed for once, and move
her to come out and look on this rnorninig's sport —The
9oor heart hlatll seen no pastine this sutnIler."
"That I wvill do," quoth Gillian; " and, moreover, I
till show her sucll a new riding-tire for the head, that no
woman born could ever look at without the wish to toss it
a little in the wind."
As Gillian spoke, it appeared to her jealous-pated-husband that he surprised a glance of more intelligence exclianged betwixt her and the trader than brief acquaint
ince seemed to warrant, even when allowance was made
for tlhe extreme fr'ankness of Dame Gillian's disposition.
777




264        1'TALES OF TIIE CRtUSADERS.
He thought also, that, on looking more closely at the
merchant, his lineaments were not totally unknown to
him; and proceeded to say to him dryly, "  e have met
before, firiend, but I cannot call to remelnbrance where."
" Like enough," said the merchant; " I have used tnis
country often, and may have taken money of you in the
way of trade.  If I were in fitting place, I would gladly
bestow a pottle of wine to our better acquaintance."'Not so fast, friend," said the old huntsman;." ere
I drink to better acquaintance with any one, 1 must be
well pleased with what I already know of him.  We will
see thy hawks fly, and if their breeding match thy brag-,1ing, we may perhaps crush a cup together.-And here
come grooms and equerries, in faith-my lady has consented to come forth."
The opportunity of seeing this rural pastime had offered itself to Eveline, at a time when the delightful brilliancy of the day, the temperance of the air, and the joyous
work of harvest, proceeding in every direction around,
made the temptation to exercise almost irresistible.
As they proposed to go no farther than the side of the
aeighbouring river, near the fatal bridge, over whicl a
small guard of infantry was constantly maintained, Eveline dispensed with any farther escort, and, contrary to
the custom of the castle, took no one in her train save
Rose and Gillian, and one or two servants, who led spaniels or carried appurtenances of the chase.   Raoull, the
merchant, and an equerry, attend3edr her of course, each
holding a hawk on his wrist, and',:xiously adjusting the
mode in which they should throw temil off, so as best to
ascertain the extent of their powers and training.
When these important points tlA been adjusted, the
party rode down the river, carefully looking on every side
for.he object of their gamne; but r-:.. heron was seen
stalking on the usual haunts of tlu,~ bird, although there
was a heronry at no great distar. ee.
Few disappointments of a small ita;ure are more teazing than that of a sportsman, who, l;-ving set out with all
means and appliances for destruction of game, findcl thatl




THI'    B HETIAl)T[iE17D.         2,6
there is none to be met with; because lhe conceives hinmself, with his full shooting triml and his empty game-)ouch,
to be subjected to tile sneer of every passing rustic. The
party of the Lady Eveline felt all the degradation of
such disappointment.
"A fair country this," said the merchant, " where
an two miles of river, you cannot find one poor hleron!"
"It is the clatter those d     d Flemingrs make wvith
their water-mills and fulling-mills," said Raoul; " tiley
destroy good sport and good company wherever Ithey
come.   But were my lady willing to ride a mile or so
farther to tlle Red Pool, I could show you a long-slianked
fellow who would make your hawks cancelier till theii
brainls were giddy."'" Tile Red Pool!"  said  Rose;  "thou knowest.
Raoul, it is more than three miles beyond the bridge,
and lies up towards tile hlills."
"' Ay, ay," said Raoul, " anotlher Flemish fireak to
spoil pastime!  They are not so scarce on the Marches
these Flemish wenches, tlhat they should fear being hawked at by Welch llaggards."
"Raoull is riglit, Rose," answered Eveline;' It is
absurd to be cool)ed lup like birds in a cage, when all
around us has been so uniformly (uiet.  I am determinedl to break out of bounds for once, and see sport in our
old fashion, witlhout being surrounded with armed men like
prisoners of state.   We will merrily to the Red Pool,
wenclh, and kill a heron like free maids of tlle Aarchles."' ILet me bhut tell mny flither, at least, to mount and
followv us," said Rose-for thley were now near the reestablished manufacturing hlouses of tlle stout F;emini' I care not if thou dost, Rose," said Eveline; " yet
credit me, girl', we will be at thle Red Pool, and thius far
oil ouir wV'ay liOlne  again, ere tly father has donned his
hcst doublet, giirded on llis two-handed sword, and accontetrl i is strong F'landerkin ele}pllar;t   of a hlorse, wllich
ne judiciously namnes Sloth-nay, fri wn not —and lose
VOL. I




266         TALES OF TR'LE CRUSABI)E;SK.
not, iiY justifying thy father, the time that may tie better
spent in calling hlim  out."
Roese rode to the mills accordingly, when Wl0:ilkin
Flaminock, at the command of his liege mistress, readily hastened to get his steel cap and habergeon, and ordered half-a-dozen of his kinsmen and servants to get
1n1 horseback.  Rose remained with him, to urge him
to more despatch than his methodical disposition rendered natural to him; but in spite of all her efforts to stimulate him, the Lady Eveline had passed the bridge more
than half an hour ere her escort was prepared to follow her.
Meanwhile, apprehensive of no evil, and riding gaily
on, with the sensation of one escaeped firom confinement,
Eveline moved forward on her lively jennet, as light as
a lark; the plumes with which Dame Gillian had deck
ed her riding-bonnet dancing in the wind, and her attendants galloping behind her, with dogs, pouches, lines, and
all other appurtenances of the royal sport of hawking.
After passing the river, the wild greensward path whict
they pursued began to wind upward among small eAminences, sometimes bare and craggy, sometimes overgrown with hazel, sloe-thorn, and other dwarf shrubs, and
at length suddenly descending, brought themn to the verge
of a mountain rivulet, that, like a lamb at play, leapt
merrily from  rock to rock, seemingly uncertain which
way to run.
" This little stream was always my favourite, Dame
Gillian," said Eveline, "and now metllinks it leaps tle
lighter tllat it sees me again."'" Al! lady," said Dame Gillian, whose turn for conversation never extended in such cases beyond a few
phrases of gross flattery, " many a fair knight wouid
leap shoulder-height for leave to look on you as free as
the brook may! more especially now that you have
donned that riding-cap, which, in exquisite delicacy of
invention, methinks is a bowshot before aught that I
ever invented-What thinkest thou, Raoul?"




'vnIE BETROTHED.                 261'1 think," answered her well-natured helpmate,' that
women's tongues were contrived to drive all the game
iut of the country. —Here we come near to the spot
where we hope to speed, or nowhere; wherefore, pray,
my sweet lady, be silent yourself, and keep your followers
as much so as their natures will permit, while we steal
along the bank of the pool, under the wind, with our;awks' hoods cast loose, all ready for a flight.".As he spoke they advanced about a hundred yards
up the brawling stream, until the little vale through whicb
it flowed, making a very sudden turn to one side, show.
ed them the Red Pool, the superfluous water of which
[ormed the rivulet itself.
This mountain lake, or tarn, as it is called in some
countries, was a deep basin of about a mile in circumference, but rather oblong than ci.cular.  On the side
next to our falconers arose a ridge of rock, of a dark
red hue, giving name to the pool, which, reflecting this
massive and dusky barrier, appeared to partake of its
colour.  On the opposite side was a heathy hill, whose
autumnal bloom had not yet faded from purple to russet; its surface was varied by the dark green furze
and the fern, and in lnany places grey cliffs, or loose
stones of the same colour, formed a contrast to the ruddy
precipice to which they lay opposed.  A natural road of
beauttiful sand wvas formed by a beach, which, extending
all the way around the lake, separated its waters from
thle precipitous rock on the one hland, and on the other
fiorm the steep and broken hill; and being nowhere less
than five or six yards in breadth, and in most places
greaIly more, offered around its whole circuit a temptillg opportunity to the rider, who desired to exercise and
breathe the horse on which lie was mounted.  The verge
of the pool on the rocky side was here and there strewi.d with fragments of large size, detached from the precipice above, but not in such quantity as to encumber this
pleasant horse-course.  Many of these rocky masses,
having passed the mnargin of the water in their fall, lay
immersed there like small islets; and, placed amongst




268          TALES OF THE CRUSADLYrC,
a little archipelago, the quick eye of Raoul detected the
heroil wlhichl tile) wevre in searcll of:
A nmolnent's consultation was }held to consider in wh-l
manner tley slhould aplprloach tlhe sad and' solitary bird.
w'liichl, unconscious tihat itself was the object of a formniidable amnbuscad(e, stood motionless on a stone, by tlhe
blrink of the lake, watchin'g for such] small fish or waterrelptiles as miglit chance to pass by its lonely station.
A brief debate took l)lace betwixt Raoul and the ]laxwkmerchant on thie best lnodle of starting the quarry, so as
to allow Lady Eveline and her attendants the most perfect view of tle fligllt.  The facicity of killing thie  eron
at the fa rjcttee or at tie jctteeferr —that is, upon  the
hither or Iarther side of tile pool-was  aln:;iously debated
in language of brerthless importance,,s if some great
and perilous enterpi ze was about to ble executed.
At length the arranlgements wel e fixeJ, and the party
bean to advance towvards the aquatic hermit, who, by
tlis time aware of tlieir approaclh, d(rew  himself up to
hiis full lheight, erected his long lean neck, spread hisbroad fan-like wings, uttered his utsual clanging cry, and,
projecting his lenllti of tlhin legs far behind him, rose
upon the gentle breeze.  It was then, with a loud A-hol:o,
of encouragement, that thle merchant threw off the noblit
hawk lie bore, having first unhooded  her to give her a
view of her quarry.
Eager as a friiate in chase of some rich galleon, dalted the falcon towards the enemy, whllich she had been
taught to pursue; while, preparing  for defence, if he
should be unable to escape by flight, the heron exerted
all his powers of speed to escape fiom  an enemy so
formidable.  Plying his almost unequalled strength of'inlg, he ascended high and higher in the ail by  short
gyrations, that the haawk might gain no vantage ground
for pouncing at him;. while lhis spiked beak, at the extremity of so long a neck as enabled  him  to strike an
object at a yard's distance in every direction, possessed
for any less spirited assailant all the terrors of a Aloorisb
javelin




TL E IsET'ROqt',).              269
Another hawk was now thrown off, and encoura ed by
thle lhalloos of tl:he falconer to join her companion.  Both
kept mnounting, or scaling the air, as it were, by a succesionl of' small circles, endeavouring to gain that superior
lheighlt which the lheron on his part was bent to preserve;
and to thle exquisite delight of the spectators, the contest
was continued until all three were well nigh mingled with
the fleecy clouds, fiom which wvas occasionally heard the
harsh and l)laintive cry of the quarry, appealing as it were
to the heaven which lhe was approaching, again'st the
wanton crutelty of those by whom lie was persecuted.
At length one of the falcons had reached a pitch from
wlhich she ventured to stoo) at the lleron; but so judiciously did the quarry maintain his defence, as to receive
on his beak the stroke wlhich the falcon, shooting down
at full descent, had made against his right wing; so that
one of his enemies, spiked throughl the body by llis own
weight, fell fluttering into the lake, very near the land, on
the side farthest from the falconers, and perished there.
" There goes a gallant falcon to the fishes," said
Raoul.'" MTerchant, thy cake is dough."
Even as lie spoke, however, the remaining bird had
avenged the fate of her sister; for the success which
the heron met with on one side, did not prevent his being
assailed on the other wing; and the falcon stooping boldly, and grappling with, or, as it is called in falconry, binding
his prey, both came tumbling down together, from  a
great height in the air.  It was then no small object on
tlie p)art of the falconers to come in as soon as possible,
lest the falcon should receive hurt from the beak or talons of the heron; and the whole party, the men setting
spurs, and the females switching their palfreys, went ofl
like the wind, sweeping along the fair and smooth beach
betwixt the rock and the water.
Lady Eveline, far better mounted than any of lier train,
her spirits elated by the sport, and by the speed at which
slhe moved was much sooner than any of her attendants
at the spot where the falcon and heron, still engaged i:
VOL. I.




7-7O0       TALEc:,-i THE CtUISA.DERS,
their mnortal struggle, lay fighting upon the moss; tne
wing of the latter having been broken by the stoop ol
the fobrmer.  The duty of a falconer in such a crisis was
to rush il and assist the hawk, by thrusting the heron's
bill into the earth, and breaking his legs, and thus permitting the falcon to despatch him on easy terms.
Neither -would the sex nor quality of the Lady Evelinf.
have excuse:d her becoming second to the falcon in this
cruel manner; but, just az she had dismounted for that
purpose, shle was surprised to find herself seized on by
a wild form, who exclaimed in Welch, that he seized
her as a waif, for hawking on the demesnes of Dawfyd
with the one eye.  At the same time many other Welchmen, to the number of more than a score, showed themselves from behllind crags and bushes, all armed at point
with the axes called Welch hooks, long knives, darts,
and bows and arrows.
Eveline screamed to her attendants for assistance, and
at the same time made' use of what Welch phrases she
possessed, to move the fears or excite the compassion of
the outlawed mountaineers; for she doubted not that she
had fallen under the power of such a party.  When she
found her requests were unheeded, and she perceived it;was their ourpose to detain her prisoner, she disdained to
use farther entreaties; but demanded at their peril that
they slould treat her with respect, promising in that case
that she would pay them a large ransom, and threatening
tlhein with the vengeance of the L,(-rds Marcllers, and
particularly of Sir Damian de Lacy, if they ventured to
use her otherwise.'rlTe men seem-ed to understand her, and although they
proceeded to tie a bandage over her eyes, and to bind
ner arms with her own veil, yet they observed in these
acts of violence a certain delicacy and attention both to
her feelings and her safety, which led her to hope that
her request had had some effect on them. They secured
her to the saddle of her palfiey, and led her away wifh
tlhem through the recesses of the hills; while she had
the additional cistress to hear behind her the noise of d




THE...      -.  BETLRO, a.,  i  t71
conflitt, occasioned by the fruitless efforts of her retinuc
to procure her rescue.
Astonishment had  at first seized the hawking party.
when they saw from  some distance their sport interrupted by a violent assault on their mistress.  Old Raoul valiantly put spurs to his horse, and calling on the rest to follow him to the rescue, rode furiously towards the banditti 
lbut. having no other arms save a hawking-pole and short
sword, he and those who followed him in his meritorious
but ineffectual attempt were easily foiled, and Raoul and
one cfr two of the foremost severely beaten; the banditti
exercising upon them their own poles till they were broken to splinters, but generously abstaining from the use of
more dangerous weapons. The rest of the retinue, completely discouraged, dispersed to give the alarm, and the
merchant and Dame Gillian remained by the lake, filling
tile air with shrieks of useless fear and sorrow.   The
outlaws, meanwhile, drawing together in a body, shot a
few arrows at the fugitives, but more to alarm  than to
injure them, and then marched off, as if to cover their
companions who had gone before, with the Lady Eveline
in their custody.
CHAPTER XXIV
Four ruffians seized me yester mornAlas! a maiden most forhlrn!
They choked my cries with wicked might,
And bound me on a palfirey white.
COLERIDGE.
SUCH adventures as are now only recorded in works
of mere fiction were not uncommon in the feudal ages,
w1heln might was so universally superior to right; and( it
followed that those whose condition exposed them to fieqpient violence. were more prompt in repelling, and more




27.        T'&LE;S (IF  nIuF'RUSADERS.
patient in enduring it, than could otherwise have been
expected firom their sex andl age
The Lady Ereline felt that she was a prisoner not
was she devoid of fears concerning the purpose of this
assault; but she suffered neither her alarm, nor tile violence with which she was hurried along, to deprive her
of the power of observing and reflecting.   Fromn thle
noise of hoofs which now increased around, she concluded that the greater part of the ruffians by whom she had
been seized  had betaken themselves to their horses.
This she knew was consonant to the practice of the Welch
marauders, who, although thle small size and slightness
of their nags made theim totally unfit for service in battle,
availed themselves of their activity and sureness of foot
to transport them with the necessary celerity to and from
the scenes of their rapine; insuring thlis a rapid and unperceived approach, and a secure and speedy retreat.
These animals traversed without difficulty, and beneath
the load of a heavy soldier, the wild mountain paths by
which the country was intersected, and in one of which
Lady Eveline Berenger concluded she was now engaged,
firom thle manner in which her own palfrey, supported by
a man on foot at either rein, seemed now to labour up
sorne precipice, and anon to descend with still greater
risk on the other side.
At one of tlhose moments a voice which she had not
yet distinguished addressed her in the Anglo-Norman
language, and asked, with apparent interest, if she sat
safely on her saddle, offering at the same time to have
heri accoutrements altered at her pleasure and convenience.
Insul not not my condition with the mention of safety,"
said Eveline; " you may well believe that I hold my
safely altogether irreconcilable with these deeds of vio(ence.  If I or my vassals have done injury to any of the
Cynmry7let me know, and it shall be amended —f it is
ransom which you desire, name the sum, and I will send
an order to treat for it; but detain me not prisoner fo,.hat can but iniurt. me. and will avail you nothing."




THE  BETROTHED.                  2783'The Lady Eveline,"  answered the voice, still in a
tone of courtesy inconsistent with the violence wlich slhe
sustained, " will speedily find tIhat our actions are more
rough than our purposes."
"If you know who I am," said Eveline, " you cannot
doubt tlhat this atrocity will be avenged-you nmust know
by whose banner my lands are at present protected."
" Under De Lacy's," answered thle voice, with a tone
of indifference.  " Be it so-falcons fear not falcons."
At this mioment tlhere was a halt, and  a confused
murmnur arose antongst those around her, who had llitherto been silent, unless when muttering to each other iin
Welcll, and as briefly as possible, directionswhich way to
hold, or encourafgelnent to use hlaste.
These  murmurs ceased, and tlhere was a pause of
several minutes; at length Eveline again heard the voice
whlich formerly addressed her, giving directions which she
could not Lunderstand.  lie then spoke to herself, " You
wxill presently  see," lie said, " whether I have spoken
truly, when I said I scorned the ties by wvhich you are fettered.  But yotu are at once the cause of strife and the
reward of victory —your safety must be cared for as time
will admit; and, strange as tlhe mode of protection is to
which we are to commit you, I trust the victor in the approaching strl,'gle will find you uninjured."
" Do not, for tIle sake of the Blessed Virgin, let there
be strife and bloodsllhed!" said Eveline; " rather unbind
my eyes, andi let me speak to those whose applroach you
dread.  If ifriends, as it would seem to me, I will be the
means of peace between you."
"I despise peace," replied the speaker.  " I have not
undertaken a resolute and daring adventure to resign it
as a child dotll his plaything, at the first frown of lortune.
Please to alight, noble lady; or rather be not offended
that I thus lift you fionm the seat, and place you on the
greensward."
As lie spoke, Eveline felt herself lifted firom her plfrey, and placed carefully and safely on the ground, in a
sltting posture.  A moment after tile same peremptory




274          TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS.
valet who had aided her to dismount, disrobed he.- of her
cap, the masterpiece of Dame Gillian, and of her upper
mantle.  "I must yet further require you," said the bandit leader, "' to creep on hands and knees into this narroiw
aperture.  Believe me, I regret the nature of the singular fortification to which 1 commit your person for safety."
Eveline crept forwards as directed, conceiving resistance to be of no avail, and thinking that compliance with
the iequest of one who spoke like a person of consequence, might find her protection against the unbridled
fury of the Welch, to whom she was obnoxious, as being
tlhe cause of Gwenwyn's death, and the defeat of the
Britons under the walls of the Garde Doloureuse.
She crept then forwards through   a narrow and damp
passage, built on either side with rough stones, and so
low that she could not have entered it in any other posture.   When she had proceeded  about two or three
yards, the passage opened into a concavity or apartment high enough to permit her to sit at her ease, and
of irregular, but narrow dimensions.  Atthe same tiile
she became sensible, fi'om tile noise which she heard behind her, that tle ruffians were stopping ulp thle passage by
which shie had been thus introduced into the bowels of' thle
earth.  Slle could distinctly hear the clattering of' stones
with whichI they closed the entrance, and she became
sensible that the current of fresh air, which had rushled
tlhroulglh thle opening, was gradually failing, and tllat tile
atmosplllere of the subterranean apartmemmt became yet
more damp}, earthy, and oppressive, tllan at first.
At thlis moment came a distant sotlnd firomn  witholut. in
qiyhich Eveline thought she could distinguish cries, blows,
the trampling of horse, the oaths, slhouts, and screams oi
thie conmbatants, but all deadened by the rude walls ol
Iher prison, into a confused hollow  murmur, conveying
such intelligence to her ears as we may suppose the dead
to hear iirom the world they have quitted.
Influenced by desperation, under circumstances so
dreadfuil, Eveline struggled for liberty wvith such fraultik
onergy, that she partly effected her purpose by forcine




THE  BETROTHED.. 7:,
hler arnts firom  the bonds which confined thelm.   But
this only convinced her of the impossibility to escape'
for, rending off the veil which wrapt her head, she found
lierself in total darkness, and  flinging her arms hlastily
around her, she discovered she was cooped up in a subterranean cavern of very narrow dimensions. I-Her hands,
wllichl groped around, encountered only pieces of decayed metal, and a substance which, at another mloment
wullld have made her shudder, being, in truth, the moulderiJn  bones of the dead.  At present, not even this circlinstance could add to her fears, immured as she seemed to be, to perish by a strange and subterranean death,
wvhile her friends and deliverers were probably witllin a
few yards of her.  She flung her arms wildly  arouind
in search of some avenue of escape, but every effort she
imade for liberating herself from the ponderous circumnvallation, was as ineffectual as if directed against the dome
of a cathedral.
The noise by which her ears were at first assailed increased rapidly, and at one moment it seemed as if the
covering of the vault under which she lay sounded repeatedly to blows, or the shock of substances which had
fallen, or been thrown, against it.  It was impossible that
a human brain could have withstood these terrors, operating upon it so immediately; but happily this extremity
lasted not long.  Sounds, more hollow, and dying away
in distance, argued that one or other of the parties had
retreated; and at length all was silent.
Eveline was now left to the undisturbed contemplation
of her own disastrous situation.  The fight was over,
and, as circumstances led her to infer, her own friends
were conquerors; for otherwise the victor would have
relieved her from  her place of confinement, and carried
her away captive with him, as his words had menaced.
But what could the success of her faithful friends and
followers avail Eveline, who, pent up under a place of
concealment which, whatever was its character, nmust
have escaped their observation, was left on th( field of
battle, to become again the prize of the enemy, should




276           TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
their band venture to return, or die in darkness and privation, a death as horrid as ever tyrant invented, or martyr
underwent, ad whllich tile unfortunate young lady coutld
not even bear to thlilntk of, witllout a player that' her agony
might at least be shortened.
In this hour of dread she recollected the poniard which
she wore, and the dark thought crossed her mind, that,
whllen life became hopeless, a speedy death was at least
wivhin her reach.  As her soul shuddered at so dreadf tl
an alternative, the question suddenly occurred, might not
this weapon be put to a more halloxwed use, and aid her
emancipation, instead of abridging'ler sufferings?
This hope once adopted, the daughter of Raymond
Berenger hastened to prove the experiment, anti by repeated efforts succeeded, though wxvith difficulty, in changing her posture, so as to admit of lher inspecting her place
of confinement all around, but particularly tlle passage by
which she had entered, and by which slhe now attenmptet
again to return to tile ligllt of day.  Slhe crept to the
extremity, andl found it, as she expected, strongly blocked tup xvith large stones and earthll, rammed together in
such a manner as nearly to extingtlish all hlope of escape.
Trhe work, hlowever, had been hastily periorlmed, and life
and liberty were prizes to stimulate exertions.  Witl her
poniard shle cleared away the earth and sods —witli her
banlds, little accustomed to sucl  labour, she removed several stones, and advanced in her task so fiar as to obtain
a glimmering  of liglht, and, what was scarce less lprecious,
a supply of purer air.  But, at tlhe same timhe, shle had
the misfortune to ascertain, thlat, friom thle size anld Inmassiveness of a huge stone which closed the extremity of
the passage, there was no hope that her unassisted strength
could effect her extrication.  Yet her condition was imllproved by thle admlission  of air and1 light, as vell as by
the opportunity aflorded of callillg out for assistance.
Such cries, indeed, were for sollne timle tlttercd in vain
-the field had probably been left to the dead and the
dying; for low and indistinct groans w-ere the only answver
which she received for several minlltes.  At length, as




TIl'E BETROTHED.                  277
she repeated her exclamation, a voie:. faint as that of
one just awakened from a sw-oon, pronounced these words
In answer:-" Edris of the Earthen H{ouse, dnst thou
call from thy tomb totlhe wretch who j ust hastens to bis own?
-Are the boundaries broken down which connect mne
with the living?-And  do I already'hear, with fleshly
ears, the faint and screaming accents of thle dead?"
" It is no spirit who speaks," replied Eveline, ovcrjoyed at finding she could at least communicate her existence to a living person-" no spirit, but a most unhap)py
maiden, Eveline Berenger by name, immured benetlh
this dark vault, and in danger to perish horritly, unless
God send me rescue!"
" Eveline Berenger!" exclaimed he whom  she addtressed, in the accents of wonder.  " It is impossible! —
I watched her green mantle —I watched her plullny bonnet as I saw her hurried from the field, and felt mny OWnI
inability to follow to the rescue; nor did force or exertion
altogether leave me till the waving of the robe and thle
dancing of the feathers were lost to my eyes, and all 1hoFe
of rescuing her abandoned my hleart."' FaithfUl vassal, or right true fiiend, or courteous
stranger, whichsoever I may name thee," answered Eveline, "know  thou hast been abused by the artifices of
tlhese Welch banditti-thle mantle and hlead-gear of 1E1ve 
line Berenger they have in'deed witll tllem, and nmay hlave
used them to mislead those trule friends, whlo, like tllhee,
are anxious for my fate.  lWherefore, brave sir, devise
some succour, if thou canst, for thyself and me; since I
dread that these ruffians, wllen they shall have escaped
immediate pursuit, will return hitlier, like tile robber to
the hoard where lhe has deposited hlls stolen booty."
"Now, the Holy Virgin be praised," said the wounded man, " that I can spend thle last breath of my life in
thy just and honourable service! I would not before ~blow
my bugle, lest I recalled from the pursuit to tlle aid of
mrny worthless self some of those who might lie eflectulallv
eihgaged in thy rescue: may Heaven grant that thie recaui
13 VOL. 1.




278          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
may now be heard, that my eyes may yet see the Lady
Eveline in safety and liberty!"
The words, though spoken in a feeble tone, breathed
a spirit of enthusiasm, and were followed by tile blast of
a horn, faintly winded. to which no answer was made
save the echoing of the dell.  A sharper and louder blast
was then sent forth, but sunk so suddenly, that it seemed
the breath of him who sounded the instrument had failed
in the effort.-A  strange thought crossed Eveline's mind
even in that moment of uncertainty and terror.  " That,'
she said, " was the note of a De Lacy-surely you cannot be my gentle kinsman, Sir Damian!"
" 1 am that unhappy wretch, deserving of death for the
evil care which I have taken of the treasure entrusted to
me.-What was my business to trust to reports and ruessengers?  I should have worshipped the saint who was
committed to my keeping, with such vigilance as avarice
bestows on the dross which he calls treasure-I should
have rested nowhere, save at your gate; outwatched
the brightest stars in the horizon; unseen and unknowvl
myself,  I should never have parted from your neighbourhood; then  had yotu not been in the present danger, and,
-nmuch  less imlortant consequence,-thlou, Damian de
Lacy, hlad not filled the grave of a foresworn and negligent caitiff!".Alas  noble Darnian," said Eveline, " break riot
my heart by blaming yourself for an imnprutldence which
is ahltogethler my own.  Tllhy succour was ever near whien
I intimnated thle least want of it; and it embitters iny
ow\n misfortunle to know  that my raslhness has been thle
caulse of your disaster.  Answer me, gentle kinsman,
nl give mlle to hlope that the vounds yout have suffiered
are stuch as may be cured. — Alas! how mnuch of your
blood have I seen spilled, and whlat a fate is mine, that I
shoulld ever bring distress on all for whom I would most
willingly sacrifice lny own happiness!-lBut do not let us
emtblitter tile moments given us in mercy, oy fi'uitle.ss 1epinlings-Try whlat you can to stop thine ebbing blood,




THE BETROTHED.                     2 9 (
w-hich is so dear to England-to Eveli ie —ad t thi.ne
Damian groaned as she spoke, and was silent; whllile,
malddened vwith tle idea that he Inight be perishing foi
want of aid, Eveline repeated her efforts to extricate
herself for her kinsman's assistance, as well as her own.
It was all in vain, and she had ceased the attempt in
despair; and, passing from  one hideous subject of terror to another, she sat listening, with sharpened ear,
for tllh dying groan of Damian, wlen-feeling of ecstasy!
-the grotindl was sllaken with horses' feet advancing
rapidly.  Yet this joyful sound, if decisive of life, did
not assulre ller of liberty-It mnlight be the banditti of the
mountaills retullning to seek their calptive.  Even then
they would surely allow her leave to look upon andl bind
up the wotunds of Damian de Lacy; for to keep him
as a captive mighllt vantage them more in many degrees,
than could his death.  A horseman came up —Eveline
invoked his assistanc-e, and the first wsord she heard wvas
an exclamnation in Firnmish from the faithful Wilkin Flammock, wllicll nothing save some spectacle of the most
unuisual kind was evel known to compel from that phlegmatic person.
His presellce, indeed, was particularly usefiul on this
occasion; tfor, beiing informed by the Lady Eveline in
what condition she was pilaced, and implored at the same
time to look to the situation of Sir Damian de Lacy, he
began, with admirable composure and some skill, to stop
the wounds of the one, while his attendants collected
levers, left by the Welch as they retreated, and were
soon ready to attempt tlie liberation of Eveline.   With
much caution, and under tile experienced  direction of
Flanrmock, the stone was at lengthl so much raised, thai
the Lady Eveline was visible, to the delight of all, and
eslpecially of the faithful Rose, who, regardless of the
risk of personal harm, fluttered  around her mistress's
place of confinement, like a bird robbed of her nestling,
art-und the cage in which the truant urc' hin has imprison778




280         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
ed them.  Precaution was necessary to remove the stont
lest falling inwards it might do the lady injury.
At length the rocky fragment was so much displacea
thf.t she could issue forth; while her people, as in
hatred of the coercioi which she had sustained, ceased
not to heave, with bat and lever, till, totally destroying
the balance of the heavy mass, it turned over fromn the
little flat on which it had been placed at the mouth of
the subterranean entrance, and, acquiring force as it revolved down a steep declivity, was at length put into
rapid motion, and rolled, crashed, and thundered, down
the hill, amid flashes of fire which it forced from the
rocks, and clouds of smoke and dust, until it alighted in
the channel of a brook, where it broke into several massive fragments, with a noise that might have been heard
some miles off.
With garments rent and soiled through the violence
she had sustained; with dishevelled hair, and disordered
dress; faint from the stifling effect of her confinement,
and exhausted by the efforts she had made to relieve
herself, Eveline did not, nevertheless, waste a single
minute in considering her own condition; but, with the
eagerness of a sister hastening to the assistance of her
only brother, betook herself to examine the several severe
wounds of Damian de Lacy, and to use proper means to
stanch  the blood and recall him from his swoon.  We
have said elsewhere, that, like other ladies of the time,
Eveline was not altogether unacquainted with the surgical art, and she now displayed a greater share of knowledge than she had been thought capable of exerting.
There was prudence, foresight, and tenderness, in every
direction which she gave, and the softness of the female
sex, with their officious humanity, ever ready to assist
in alleviating human misery, seenmed in her enhanced,
and rendered dignified, by the sagacity of a strong and
powerful understanding. After hearing with wonder for
a minute or two the prudent and ready-witted directions
of her mistress, Rose seemed at once to recollect that
the patient should not be le"t to the exclusive rare o1




THE BETROTHED.                   281
the Lady Eveline, and joining, therefore, in tne Mask,
she rendered whlat- assistance she coulu, while ti.e attendants were employed in forming a litter, on which the
wounded knight was to be conveyed to the castle of the
Garde Dolourcuse.
CHAPTER XXV.
A menrry place,'tis said, in days of yore,
But something ails it nowv-the place is cursed.
WORDSWORTH.
THE place on which the skirmish had occurred, and
the deliverance of the Lady Eveline had. been effected,
was a wild and singular spot, being a small level plain,
forming a sort of stage, or resting-place, between two
very rough paths, one of which winded up the rivulet
from below, and another continued the ascent above.
Being surrounded by hills and woods, it was a celebrated
spot for finding game, and, in former days, a Welch
Prince, renowned for his universal hospitality, his love
of crw and of the chase, had erected a forest-lodge,
where he used to feast his friends and followers with a
profusion unexampled in Cambria.
The fancy of the bards, always captivated with magnificence, and having no objections to the peculiar species of profusion practised by this potentate, gave him
the surname of Edris of the Goblets; and celebrated
him in their odes in terms as high as those which exalt
the heroes of the famous Hirlas Horn.  The subject ol
their praises, however, fell finally a victim to his propensities, having been stabbed to the heart in one of those
scenes of confusion and drunkenness whi h were frequently the conclusion of his renowned banquets. Shocked at this catastrophe the assembled Britons interred
VOL. I.




282           TA.LES OF TIlE  CRUSADERS.
the relics of tha prince on the place where he had diet;
witIlii tile narrow  vatult where Eveline had been confine.d, and having larrlicaded tile entrance of the seliulcihre with f(iagmnets of' rock, Ihe.ped over it an ininOe..!se
cair'2, or pile of stones, on tile summit of wvlhich thley
put tile assassin  to  deathl.  Superstition  guarded  tlhe
spot; alnd fbr niatnty a year this mneiorial of Ectris remained unviolated, althouigh the lodge lhad gone to ruin,
and its vestiges had totally decayed.
Inl latter years, some prow. ling band of Welch roLotrs had discovered the secret entrance, and opened it
witll the view  of ransacking thle toll-) for arms ar-:d
treasures, which were in ancient times often} blmnie(t with
the deid.'lihese marauders wvere disappointed, and obtaine(l  nothing by the violation of the grave of Edris,
excel)ting tile knowledge of a secret place, which nmight
be used tor depositing their booty, or even as a place of
retreat for one of their number in at case of emergency.
Whllen the follonwers of Danmian, five or six in number
explained their part of the history of the day to Wilkin
Flammock, it appeared  that Damian h1a(l ordered thlem
to horse at break of day, with a more  considerable hbody,
to act, as they understood, against a part)ty of insurgent
peasants, when of a sudden he had altered his nind, and,
dividing his force into small bands, employed himself
and them  in reconnoitring more tlla)1 one mountain-pass
betwixt Wales and the Marches of tle English  country,
in the neighblourhlood of tle Garde Doloureuse.  This
was an occupation so ordinary for him that it excited no
particular notice.   These manceuvres were frequently
undtertaken by tile warlike marchers, for the purpose o:
intimidating the Welch in general, more especially the
bandis of outlaws, who, independent of any regular government, infested these wild frlontiers.   Yet it escaped
lout comment, thlat, in undertaking such service at tilis
moment, Damian seemned to abaldon tlat of dislersinlg
the insurgents, w-hich had been considered  as the chief
objec' o' the day.




THE B ETROTHED.                   2SJ
It was about noon, when, falling in, as good fortune
w'ould have it, with one of the fuigitive grooms, Danaian
and his immediate attendants received information of the
violence committed on the Lady Eveline, and, by their
perfect knowledge of the country, were able to intercept
the ruffians at the Pass of Edris, as it was called, by
which the  Welchl rovers ordinarily  returned  to their
strong-holds'n the interior.  It is probable t'hat the banditti were not aware of the small force which Damian
headed in person, and at the same time knew that there
would be an immediate anti hot pursuit in their rear; and
these circumstances led their leader to adopt the'singular
expedient of hiding Eveline in the tomb, while one ot
their own number, dressed in her clothes, might serve
as a decoy to deceive their assailants, and lead thIem from
the spot whlere she was really concealed, to which it was
no doubt the purpose of the banditti to return, when they
had eluded their pursuers.
Accordingly, the robbers had already drawn up before
the tomb for the purpose of regularly retreating, until
they should find some suitable place either for maling a
stand, or where, if overmatched, they might, by abandoning thleir horses, and dispersing among the rocks,
evade the attack of the Norman cavalry.  Their plan
had been defeated by the precipitation of Damian, who,
beholding as lie thought the plumes and mantle of the
Lady Eveline in the rear of tlheir party, charged them
without considering either the odds of numbers, or the
lightness of his own armour, which, consisting only of a
head-piece and a buff surcoat, offered hut imperfect resistance to tlle Welch  klives and glaives.   He was accordingly woundedl severely at the onset, and would lhave
been slain, but for the exertions of his few followers, and
the fears of the Welch, thlat, while thus continuing tlhe
battle in front, they mighlit be assaulted  in the rear by
the lollowers of Eveline, whom  they must now sulppose
were all in arms and motion.  They retreated, therefore, or ratlher fled, and ttle attendants of Daminian were
despatched after themn b1 their fallen master, wi'h dire,'




'284'r P.TALES OF THE CR1USADEITR.
tioni to let no consideration induce them to leavk o.ff he
chase, until the captive Lady of the Garde Doloureuse
was delivered friom her ravishers.
The outlaws, secure inl their knowledge of the paths
and the activity of their small Welch horses, madle an
orderly retreat, with the exception of two or three of their
rear-guard, cut dtown by Damian in his furious onset.
They shot arrows, firom time to time, at the men-at.-arms,
and laughed at the ineffectual efforts whlich these heavyarmed warriors, with their barbed horses, made to overtake them.  But the scene was changed by the appearance of Wilkin Flammock, on his puissant war-horse,
who was beginning to ascend the pass, leading a party
consisting both of foot and horse.  The fear of being
intercepted caused the outlaws to have recourse to their
last stratagem, and, abandoning their Welch nags, they
betook themselves to the cliffs, and. by superior activity
and dexterity, baffled, generally spealing, the attempts
of their pursuers on either hand.  All of them, however, were not equally fortunate, for two or three fell
into the hands of Flalmmoclk's party; amongst others
the person uponl whoim  Eveline's clothes had been placed, and whlo now, to the great disappointment of those
who had attached themselves to his pursuit, proved to
be, not the ladly whom  they were emulous to deliver,
but a fair-haired youn, Welchiman, whose wild looks,
and incoherent speeclt, seemed  to argue a disturbed
ilnagination.  Tilits would not have saved him  from  immediate death, thle usual doom of captives taken in such
skir;nishes, lbad not thle faint blast of Danmian's horn,
sounding  firotn above, recalled his own party, andi sulnmrnoned tllat of WVilklin Flamlmock to the spot; while, in
tile confusion and 11lurry'   of' tlleir obeying the signal
thle p)ity or the contemplt of hlis gtiards suffererd tlhe prisoner to escape.  They Imad, indeed, little to learn from
hinm, even lhad he been disposed to give intelliegence, or
capable of comMUlinuicating it.  All were well assured
tlhat tlmeir la ly had fallen into an ambuscade, formred by
[)awfyd tl;i one-eyed, a redoubted fireebooter of the pe



THE BETROT'HED.               285
nod, who had veitured upon this hardyenterprizeinlthe
hope of obtaining a large ransom for the captive Eveline,
and all, incensed at his extreme insolence and audacity,
devoted his head and limbs to the eagles and the ravens.
These were the particulars which the followers ot
Flammock and of Damian learned by comparing notes
with each other, on -he incidents of the day. As they
returned by the Redl Pool they were joined by Dame
Gillian, who, after many exclamations of joy at the unexpected liberation of her lady, and as many of sorrow
at the unexpected disaster of Damian, proceeded to inform the men-at-arms, that the merchant, whose hawks
had been the original cause of these adventures, had
been taken prisoner by two or three of the Welch in
their retreat, and that she herself and the wounded Raoul
would have shared the same fate, but that they had no
horse left to mount her upon, and did not consider old
Raoul as worth either ransom, or the trouble of killing.
One had, indeed, flung a stone at him as he lay on the
hill-side, but happily, as his dame said, it fell something
short of him-" It was but a little fellow who threw it,"
she said-" there was a big man amongst them, if he
had tried, it's like, by our Lady's grace, he had cast
it a thought farther."  So saying, the dame gathered
herself up, and adjusted her dress for again mounting on
horseback.
The wounded Damian was placed on a litter, hastily
constructed of boughs, and, with the females, was placed
in the centre of the little troop, augmented by the rest
Df the young knight's followers, who began to rejoin his
standard.  The united body now marched with military
order and precaution, and winded through the passes
with the attention o men prepared to meet and to repel
injury.




28(          TALES OF THE CRUSADE~RS.
CHAPTER XXVI.
What! fair, and Voung, and faithful too?
A miracle, if this be true.
Rose:, )y nature one of the most disinterested and af
fectionate maidens that ever breathed, was the first who,
hastily considering the peculiar condition in which her
lady was placed, and the marked degree of restraint
which had hitherto characterized her intercourse with
her youthful guardian, became anxious to know  how
the wounded knight was to be disposed of; and yet,
when she came to Eveline's side for the purpose of asking this important question, her resolution well nigh failed her.
The appearance of Eveline was indeed such as migllt
have made it almost cruelty to intrude upon her any
other subject of anxious consideration than those with
which her mind had been so lately assailed, and was
still occupied.  Her countenance was as pale as death
could have made it, unless where it was specked with
drops of'blood; her veil, torn and disordered, was soiled with dust and with gore; her hair, wildly dishevelled,
fell in elf-locks on her brow and shoulders, and a single
broken and ragged feather, which was all that remained
of her head-gear, had been twisted among  her tresses,
and still flowed there, as if in mockery, rather than ornament.  Her eyes were fixed on the litter where Damnian
was deposited, and she rode close beside it, without apparently wasting a thoughtl  on anything, save the dangei
of hirm who was extended there.
Rose plainly saw that her lady was under feelings of
excitation, which might render it (iflicult ifor her to take
a xwise and prudent view of her own situation.  Slhe endeavoured gradually to awaken  her to a sense of i;.




THE  BETRG'THED.'87
Dearest lady," said Rose, " will it plcase ) o, to take
my mantle?"
Torment me not," answered  Eveline, with some
shiarpness in her accent.
" Indeed, my lady," said Dame Gllian, bustling up
as one who feared her fuinctions as mistress of the robes
might be interfered  with —" indeed, my  lady, Rose
Flammock speaks truth; and neither your kirtle nor your
gown are sitting as they should do; and, to speak truth,
they are but barely decent.  And so, if Rose will turn
herself, and put hler horse out of my way,"  continued
the tire-woman, " I will put your dress in better order in
the sticking in of a bodkin, than any Fleming of them
all could do in twelve hours."
" I care not for my dress," replied Eveline, in the
same manner as before.
" Care then for your honour-for your fame," said
Rose, riding close to her mistress, and whispering in her
ear; " think, and that hastily, how you are to dispose oi
this wounded young man."
"' To the castle," answered Eveline, aloud, as if scorning the affectation of secrecy; " lead to the castle, and
that straight as you can."
" Why not rather to his own camp, or to Maipas?" said
Rose-" )Dearest lady, believe, it will be for the best."
"Wherefore not —wherefore not? -wherefore not
leave him  on the way-side at once, to the knife of the
Welchman, and the teeth of the wolf?-Once-twicethree times has he been my preserver.  Where I go, he
shall go; nor will I be in safety myself a moment sooner than I know that he is so."
Rose saw that she could make no impression on her
mistress, and her own reflection told lher that the wounded man's life mighlit be endlangered bv a lonrer transportation than was absolultely necessary.  An expedlient occurred to hier, by which she imnagined thlis objection mItlit
be obviated; but it was necessary she should consult  her
fat Itier.  Slhe struck htier pallfirey  ithl helr riding-rod, and
Mt a niowient h!cr ('diminlutive, tlloutl  beautilul figure, land




28.3        TALES OF Ti'HE; ClRUSADFERS,
iher spirited little jennet, were by the side of the gigantic
Fleming and his tall black horse, and riding, as it we, e, ir
their vast shadow.   " My dearest father,'" said Rose,
~4 the lady intends that Sir Damian be transported to the
castle, where it is like'he may be a long sojourner;-;what think you?-is that wholesome counsel?"
" Wholesome for the youth, surely, Roschlen," answered the Fleming, " because he will better escape the
risk of a fever."
" True; but is it wise for my lady?" continued Rose.
" Wise enough, if she deal wisely.  But wherefore
shuldst thou doubt her, Roschen?"' I know not," said Rose, unwilling to breathe even
to her father the fears and doubts which she herself enteltained; "but where there are evil tongues, there may
be evil rehearsing.  Sir Damian and my lady are both
very young-lMethinks it were better, dearest father,
would you offer the shelter of your roof' to the wounded
knigiht, in the stead of his being carried to the castle."
" That I shall not, wench," answered the Fleming,
hastily —" that I shall not, if I may help.  Norman shall
not cross my quiet threshold, nor Englishman neither,
to mock my quiet thrift, and consume mny stubstance.
Thou dost not know them, because thou art ever with
thy lady, and hast her good favour; but I know them
well; and the best I can get from them is Lazy Flanderkin, and Greedy Flanderkin, and Flemish sot-I thank
the saints they cannot say Coward Flanderkin, since
Gwenwyn's Welch uproar."
" I had ever thought, my Father," answered Rose,
"tihat your spirit was too calm to regard these base calurmnies. Bethink you we are under this lady's banner,
and that she has been my loving mistress, and her father
was your good lord; to the Constable, too, are you beholden, for enlarged privileges.  Monev may pay debt,
but kindness only can requite kindness; and I forebode
that you will never have such an opportunity to do kindness to the houses of Berenger and De Lacy, as by
O}pelinog the doors of your house to this wounded knight 




THE B;r'rRoTHEID.               289
" Thle doors of my house!" answered the Fleming
-"  do I know  how long I may call that, or any house
upon earth, my own?  Alas, my daughter! we came
hlitler to fly from  the rage of the elements, but who
knows how soon we may perish by the wrath of men?"
6' You speak strangely, my father," said Rose; "it
holds not with your solid wisdom to augur such general
evil from the rash enterprize of a Welch outlaw."
"I think not of the One-eyed robber," said Wilkin;
"although the increase and audacity of such robbers as
Dawfyd is no good sign of a quiet country.  But thou,
who livest within yonder walls, hearest but little of what
passes without, and your estate is less anxious;-you
had known nothing of the news from me, unless in case
I had found it necessary to remove to another country."
" To remove, my dearest father, from the land where
your thrift and industry have gained you an honourable
competency?"
" Ay, and where the hunger of wicked men, who
envy me the produce of my thrift, may likely bring me
to a dishonourable death.  There have been tumults
among the English rabble in more than one county, and
their wrath is directed against those of our nation, as if
we were Jews or heathens, and not better Christians
and better men than themselves.  They have, at York,
Bristol, and elsewhere, sacked the houses of the Flemings, spoiled their goods, misused their families, and
murdered themselves. — And why?-except that we have
brought among them the skill and the industry which they
possessed not'; and because wealth, which they would
never else have seen in Britain, was the reward of our
art and our toil  Roschen, this evil spirit is s__:ading
widler daily.  Here we are more safe than elsewhere,
because we form a colony of some numbers and strengtll.
But 1 confide not in our neighbours; and hadst not
thou, Rose, been in security, I would long ere this have
given ip all, anid left Britain."
%'OL. I.




290          TAIJES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"'; Given up all, and left Britain!"-The words soundi
ed prodigious il: the ears of his daughter, wlho knein
better than any one how successful her father had been
in his industry, and how unlikely one of his firm and
sedate temper was to abandon known and present advantages for the dread of distant or contingent pcril.
At lengthl she replied, " If such be your peril, my fiather,
nrethinks your house and goods cannot hlave a better
protection thllan the presence of this noble knight.  Where
lives the man who dare aughlt of violence against the
house which harbours Dan-ian de Lacy?"
"' I know not that," said tile Fleming, in the same
composed and steady, but ominous tone-" May Heaven
forgive it ine, if it be sin! but I see little save folly in
these Crusades, which the priesthood have preached up
so successfully.-Here has the Constable been absent
for nearly three years, and no certain tidings of his life
or death, victory or defeat.  He marched fiom hence
as if lie meant not to draw bridle or sheathe sword until
the Holy Sepulchre was won from the Saracens, yet we
can hear with no certainty whether even a lhamlet has
been taken from the Saracens.  In the meanwhile, the
people tlhat are at home grow discontented; their lords,
with the better part of their followers, are in Palestine
-dead or alive we scarcely know; the people themselves
are oppressed and flayed by stewards and deputies, whose
yoke is neither so light nor so lightly endured as that of
the actual lord.  The commons, who naturally hate the
knights and gentry, think it no bad time to make some
head against them-ay, and there be some of noble blood
who would not care to be their leaders, that they may
htave their share in the spoil; for foreign expeditions
and p)rofligate hlabits llave made many poor0; and lie that
is poor will murder his father for money.  I hate l)oor
people; and I would tle devil had every man who cannot keep himself by the work of his own hand!"
The Fleming concluded, with this characteristic mnlprecation, a speeclh wllicll gave Rose a more fiighltfitl, icw of thle state of England, than, shlut up as shle was




THE BETROTHIEDo                   291
within tle Garde Doloureuse, she hIad before had an opportrinity of learning.   " Surely," shle said —" surely
these violences of whlich you speak are not to be dread
cd by those vwlo live under tile banner of De Lacy and
of Berelnger?"
"Bereng er subsists but in name," answered Wilkin
Flar-mloc, "' and Damian, thotll a brave youtil, hathl not
Ilis uncle's ascendency of character and authority.  His
men also complain that they are harassed withl the duty
of watching for protection of a castle, in itself impregnable, and sufficiently garrisoned, and that they lose all
opportunity of honlourable enterprize, as they call it-that
is, of fighlt and spoil-in this inactive arnd inglor'ioLus manner of life.  They say that Damian the Beardless was a
man, but that Damian with the moustache is no better
than a woman; and that age, which lhas darkened his upper lip, hath at the salne timle blenched his courage. —And they say more, which were but wearisome to tell."
"Nay, but, let me know what tley say; let me know
it, for Heaven's sake!" answered Rose, " if it concern,
as it must concern, my dearl ladsy."
"4 Even so, Rosclhen," answered Wilkin.  " There are
many amnong the Norman men-at-arms wvho talk, over
their wine cups, lhowv that Danmian de Lacy is in love
with hlis uncle's betrothed bride; ay, and that they correspond together by art magic."'By art magic, indeed, it must be," said Rose, smiling
scornfuilly, " for by no earthly means do they correspond,
as I, for one, can bear witness."
"To art magic, accordingly, they impute it," quoth
Wilkin Flammnock, " that so soon as ever my lady stirs
beyond the portal of her castle, De Lacy is in the sad(lie with a party of his cavalry, though thley are positively
certain that lie has received no messenger, letter, or other
ordin:ary notice of her purpose; nor lhave tlhey ever, on
such occasions, scoured the passes long, ere they have
seen or heard of my lady Eveline's being abroad."
"This has not escaped me," said Rose;' and niv
1 dy has expressed herself even displeased at tile accu




2(92        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
racy which Damian displayed in procuring a knowlet e of
her motions, as well as at the officious punctuality wvith
which he has attended and guarded them.  To-day has,
however, shown," she continued, "t hat his vigilance mnay
serve a good purpose; and as they never met upon tlhese
occasions, but continued at such distance as excluded
even the possibility of intercourse, methinks tlhey might
have escaped the censure of the most suspicious.'"
Ay, my daughter Rosclhen!" replied Wilklin, " but
it is possible even to drive caution so far as to excite suspicion.  Why, say the men-at-arms, should these two observe such constant, yet such guarded intelligence with
one another?  Why should their approach be so near,
and why, yet, should they never meet? If they had been
merely the nephew and the uncle's bride, they must have
had interviews avowedly and frankly; and on the other
hIand, if they be two secret lovers, there is reason to believe that they do find their own private places of meeting, though they have art sufficient to conceal theln."
" Every word t1at you speak, my father," replied the
generous Rose, "increases tho absolute necessity that you
receive this wvounded youth into your house.  Be the
evils you dread ever so great, yet, may you rely upon it,
that they cannot be augmented by admitting him, with a
few of his faithful followers."
" Not one follower," said the Fleming hastily, "not
one beef-fed knave of them, save the page that is to attend him, and the doctor that is to attempt his cure."
" But I may offer the shelter of your roof to these
three, at least?" answered Rose.
" Do as thou wilt, do as thou wilt," said the  doting
father.  " By my faith, Roschen, it is well for thee thou
hast sense and moderation in asking, since I am so foolishly prompt in granting. This is one of your freaks, now,
of honouror generosity —but commnend me-to prudence
and honesty.-Ah! Rose, Rose, those who wouldt do
what is better than good, sometimes bring about what is
worse than bad! —But I think I shall be quit of the troutle for thle fear; and that thy mistress, who is, with reveretnce, somethtin  of a damsel-errant. will stand stoutl)




THIE BETROTHED                 2c93
for the chivalrous privilege of lodging her knight ai her
own bower, and tending him in person."
The Fleming prophesied true.  Rose had no sooner
made the proposal to Eveline that the wounded Damian
should be left at her father's house for his recoverv, than
her mistress briefly and positively rejected the proposal.
" He has been my preserver," she said, " and if there be
one being left for whom the gates of the Garde Doloureuse should of themselves fly open, it is to Damian de
Lacy.-Nay, damsel, look not upon me with that susplicious and yet sorrowful countenance-they that are beyond disguise, my girl, contemn suspicion-It is to God.
and Our Lady that I must answer, and to them my bosom
lies open!"
They proceeded in silence to the castle gate, when the
Lady Eveline issued her orders that her Guardian, as she
emphatically termed Damian, should be lodged in her
father's apartment; and, with the prudence of more advanced age, she gave the necessary directions for the
reception and accommodation of his followers, and the
arrangements which such an accession of guests required
in the fortress.  All this she did with the utmost composure and presence of mind, even before she altered or arranged her own disordered dress.
Another step still remained to be taken.  She hastened
to the Chapel of the Virgin, and prostrating herself before her divine protectress, returned thanks for her second
deliverance, and implored her guidance and direction,
and, through her intercession, that of Almighty God, for
the disposal and regulation of her conduct.  "' Thou
knowest," she said, " that from no confidence in my own
strength, have I thrust myself into danger.  0 make me
strong where I am most weak —Let not my gratitude and
my compassion be a snare to me; and while I strive to
discharge the duties which thankfulness imposes on me,
save me froml the evil tongues of men-and save —-(
save me forom the insidious devices of my own heart!"
VOL. 1.




294          TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
She then told her rosary  with devout fervour, and
retiring fiom tile chapel to her own apartment, summoned
her women to adju:t- her tlress, and remove the external
appearance of the violence to which she had been so lately subjected.
CHAPTER XXVII.
J2tlia.   -. Gentle sir,
You are our captive-but we'll use you so,
That you shall think your prison-joys may match
Whate'er your liberty hlath known of p)leasule.
Roderick. No, fairest, we hlave trifled here too long;
And, lingering to see your roses blossom,
I've let my laurels wither.
Old Play.
ARRAYED in garments of a mourning colour, and of a
fashion more matronly than perhaps altogether befitted her
youth-plain to an extremity, and devoid of all ornament,
save her rosary-Eveline now  performed the duty of
waiting upon her wounded  deliverer; a duty whicl the
etiquette of the time not only permitted, but peremptorily enjoined.   She was attended by Rose and Dame
Gillian.   Margery, whose element was a sick-chamber.
had been already despatched to that of the young knight,
to attend to whatever his condition might require.
Eveline entered the room  with a light step, as if unwilling to disturb the patient.   She paused at the door,
and cast her eyes around her.  It had been her father's
chamber; nor had she entered it since his violent death.
Around the walls hnung  a part of his armour and weapons,
with hawkinl-gloves, hunting-poles, and other instruments
of sylvan sport.   These reliques brought as it were it:
living form  before her, the stately presence of old Sir
Raymoitd.  " Frown not, mny father,"-her lips ibrmied




THE  BETROTHED.                     295
tile words, though her voice did not utter them —" frown
not-Eveline will never be unworthy of thee."
Father Aldrovand, and  Amelot, the page o, Damian,
were seated by the bedside.  They rose as Lady Eveline
entered; and the first, who meddled a little with the healing art, said to Eveline, " tlat the knight had slumbered
for some time, and was now about to awake."
Amnelot at the same time came forward, and in a hasty
and low  voice, begged that the chamber might be kept
quiet, and the spectators requested to retire.  "My lord,"
hi: said, "ever since his illness at Gloucester, is apt to
speak sometiling wildly as lie awakes from sleep, and will
be displeased with me should I permit any one to be near
him."
Eveline accordingly caused her women and the monk
to retire into the anterootm, while she 1herself remained
standing by the door-commnlnication whlich connected tlhe
apart"ments, and heard Damian mention-i her name as he
turned hlimself painfully on his couchl.  " Is she safe anld
unllarlled?" was his first questioll, and it was asked with
an eagerness whicll intimated how far it preceded all other
conllsierations.-X lien Amnelot replied in tihe affirnative,
lie siglled, as onle;1whose bosoni is relieved  from some
lveigllty load, and in a less animl(ated voice, asked of( the
paae \whlere lthey were.  "'llis  apartment,"  lie  said,
" witl its furnitlure, are all stlralge to nte."
" iy dear master," said Amelot, "' you are at present
too weak to!ask qllestions and receive explanations."
B;l!e I wliere I will,"  said  Damian, as if' recovering
lhis recollection, " I am  not in tile place wlhere my duty
calls ine.  Tell      trumplll)ets t) sound to horse — to hlorse,
and let Rallph Genlvil cl-arry my banner.  To horse-to
horse! we have not a mlonent to lose!"'The wounmded lknight nJade  some effort to rise,  h-lich,
in lls state of weakness,'Amelom  was easily able to  i'bustrtlte.:' I'}toth art riiglt.," l'e said, as lie stlink back inlto
nis reclinlilng posture —"  thou art rilht-I amn  weak- bul
wh) shioiuld str,.nglth remain when honiour is lost'"
7,79




296        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
The unhappy young man covered his face with li s
nands, and groaned in agony, which seemed more that
of the mind than of the body.  Lady Eveline approached his bedside with unassured steps, fearing she knew not
what, yet earnest to testify the interest which she felt in
the distresses of the sufferer.  Damian looked u) and
beheld her, and again hid his face with his hands.
" What means this strange passion, Sir Knight?" said
Eveline, with a voice which, at first weak and trembling,
gradually obtained steadiness and composure.  " Ought
it to grieve you so much, sworn as you are to the duties
of chivalry, that Heaven has twice made you his instrument to save the unfortunate Eveline Berenger?"
" Ono, no!" he exclaimed with rapidity;' since you
are saved, all is well-but time presses —it is necessary 1
should presently depart-nowhere ought I now to tarryleast of all, within this castle —Once more, Amelot, let
them get to horse."
" Nay, my good lord," said the damsel, " this must
not be.  As your ward, I cannot let my guardian part
thus suddenly-as a physician, I cannot allow my patient
to destroy himself-It is impossible that you can brook
the saddle."
" A  litter —a bier-a cart, to drag forth the dishonoured knight and trmaitor-all were too good for me-a
coffin were best of all-but see, Amelot. that it be framed like that of the meanest churl-no spurs displayed on
the pall-no shield with the ancient coat of the De Lacys
-no helmet with their knightly crest must deck the hearse
of him whose name is dishonoured!"
" Is his brain unsettled?" said Eveline, looking with
terror from the wounded man to his attendant; "or is
there some dreadful mystery in these broken words?If so, speak it forth; and if it may be amended by life
or goods, my deliverer will sustain no wrong."
Amele! regarded her with a dejected and melancholy
air, shook his head, and looked down on his master with
a countenance which seemed to express, that the questions which she asked could not be prudently answer(ed




THE BETROTHED.                 291
n Sir Damian's presence.  The Lady Eveline observng this gesture, stepped back into the outer apartment,
and made Amelot a sign to follow her.  HIe obeyed,
after a glance at his mnaster, who remained in the same
disconsolate posture as formerly, with his hands crossed
over his eves, like one who wished to exclude the light,
and all which the light made visible.
When Amelot was in the wardrobe, Eveline, making
signs to her attendants to keep at such distance as the
room permitted, questioned him closely on the cause of
his master's desperate expression of sorrow and remorse.
"' Tlhou knowest," she said, " that I am bound to succour
thy lord, if I may, both from  gratitude, as one whom
he hath served to the peril of his life-and also from
kinsmanship.  Tell me, therefore, in what case he stands,
that I may help him if I can-that is," she added, her
pale cheeks deeply colouring, " if the cause of his distress be fitting for me to hear."
The page bowed low, yet showed such embarrassment
when he began to speak, as produced a corresponding
degree of confusion in the Lady Eveline, who, nevertheless, urged him  as before " to speak without scruple or
delay-so that the tenor of his discourse was fitting for
her ears."
" Believe me, noble lady." said Amelot, "s your comtnands had been instantly obeyed, but that I fear my master's displeasure if I talk of his affairs without his warrant; nevertheless, on your command, whTom 1 know lie
honours above all earthly beiings, I will speak thus far,
that if his life be safe fiom the wounds he has received,
his honour and worship may be in great danger, if it please
not Heaven to send a remedv."
" Speak on," saiid Eveline; " and be assured you
will do Sir Damian de Lacy no prejudice by the confidence you may rest in me."'
" I well beiieve it, lady," said the page.   " Know,
tlhen, if it be not already known to you, that the clowns
tlnd rabble who have taken arms against the nobles.n




298          TALES OF I'HE CR1tSADEtS.
the west, pretend to be favoured in tlheir insurrection, to
only by Randal Lacy: but by my master, Sir Damian.":
"' They lie that dare charge him with such foul treason
to his own blood, as well as to his sovereign!" replied
Eveline.
" Well do I believe they lie," said Amelot  " but this
hinders not their falsehoods from being believed by those
who know him less inwardly.  More than one run-away
from  our troop have joined this rabblement, and that
gives some credit to the scandal.  And then they saythey say-that-in short, that my master lonrs to possess the lands in his proper right which he occupies as
his uncle's administrator; and that if the old Constable
-I crave your pardon, madam —should return from
Palestine, he should find it difficult to obtain possession
of his own again."'
"The sordid wretches judge of others by their own
base minds, and conceive those temptations too powerful
for men of worl, wlich- they are thlemselves conscious
they would be unable to resist.  But are the insurgents
then so insolent and so powerful? We have heard of their
violences, but only as if it had been some popular tumult."
" We had notice last nighlt that they have drawn togeth —
er in great force, and besieged or blockaded Wild Wenlock, with his men-at-arms, in a village about ten miles
hence.  He hiath sent to my master, as his kinsman and
colllanion-at-arms, to come to hlis assistance.  We were
on horseback this morning  to march to the rescuewllen "
He paused, and seemed unwilling to proceed. Eveline
caught at the word.      Wllen you heard of' my dlallger "
she said.  " I would ye h1ad rather heard of my denthl!"
" Slurely, noble lady," said the page, witll llis eves
fixe(l on the ground,  lllthing hut so strong a cauise could
have lmade my nmaster halt his troop, andi carry the better
part of thern to the Welchl mountains, wllen his countryroan's distress, and tile commands of tile King's Lieutenant, so peremptorily demanded his piesence elsewhere 




THE BETROTHED.'299
"I knew it," she said-" I knew I was born to be his
destruction! yet methinks this is worse than I dreamed
of; when the worst was in my tlloughts.  I feared to occasion his death, not his loss of fame.  For God's sake,
young Amnelot, do what thou canst. and that without:oss
of time!  Get thee straightway to horse, and join to thy
own mnen as many as thou canst gather of mine-Go —
iride, my brave youth —show thy master's banner, and let
them see that his forces and his heart are withl'them,
though his person be absent.  Haste, haste, for the time
is precious!"
I" But the safety of this castle-But your own safety?"
said tlle page.  " God knows how willingly 1 would do
auglht to save his fame! But I know my master's mood;
and were you to suffel by my leaving the Garde Doloureuse, even altllouhll I were to save him lands, life, and
honour, by my doing so, I should be mlore like to taste of
his dagger, tlhan of his thanks or bounty."' Go, nevertheless, dear Amnelot," said she; " gather
vwhat force thou canst make, and be gone."'; You spur a willing horse, madamrn," said the page,
springing to his feet; " and in the condition of my aiaster, I see nothing better than that his banner should be
displayed against these churls."
T"'o arms, then," said Eveline, hastily; "to arms,
anrd win thy spurs.  Bring me assurance that thy master's
honour is safe, and I will myself bluckle them  on thy
heels.   Here-take thlis blessed rosa ry-bind it on thy
crest, and be the thoutght of the Virgin of the Garde
1)oloureuse, that never failed a votary, strong with thee
in the hour of conflict."
She had scarcely ended, ere Amelot fleu: firom her
presence, and summoning together such horse as lie could
assemble, both of his master's, and of those belonging to
the castle, there were soon forty cavaliers mounted in the
court-yard.
But although the page was thus far readily obeyed, yct
when the soldiers heard they were to go forth on a dangerous expedition, with no more experienced genera'




300         TALIES OF THI'  CRUSADiERS.
thlan a youth of fifteen, they showed a decided reltuctance
to move friom the castle.  The old soldiers of De Lacy
said, Damian himself was almost too youthful to command
ther, and had no riglht to delegate his authority to a mere
boy; while the followers of Berenger said, their;istress
mlight be satisfied with her deliverance of the morning,
without trying falrther dangerous conclusions by diminishing
the garrison of her castle-" The times," they said, "were
stormy, and it was'wisest to keep a stone roof over their
heads."
The more the soldiers communicated their ideas and
apprehensions to each other, the stronger their disincli
nation to the undertaking became; and when Amelot,
who, page-like, had gone to see that his own horse
was accoutred and brought forth, returned to the castle-yard, lie found them standing confusedly together,
some mounted, some on foot, all men speaking loud, and
all in a state of disorder.   Ralph Genvil, a veteran
whose  face  was seamed  with many a scar, and who
had long followed the trade of a soldier of fortune, stood
apart from the rest, holding his horse's bridle in one hand,
and in the other the banner-spear, around which the banter of De Lacy was still folded.
" What means this, Genvil?" said the page, angrily.
" Why do you not mount your horse and display tile banner? and what occasions all this confusion?"
"Truly, Sir Page," said Genvil, composedly, " I am
not in my saddle, because I have some regard for this
old silken rag, whllich I have borne to honour in my
time, and I will not willingly carry it where men are
unwilling to follow and defend it."
"No march-no sally-no lifting of banner to-day!"
cried the soldiers, by way of burden to the banner-mall's
discourse.
"' How now, cowards? do you mutiny?" sa'o Anielot,
laying his hand on his sword.
"Menace not me, Sir Boy," said G(,nvil; " nor shake
your sword my way.  I tell thee, Amelot, were iny
wtea.pon to cross with yours, never flail sent ablro-)ad rrmote




'THE BETROTHED.                301
chaff than I would make splinters of your hatched and
gilded toasting-iron.  Look you, there are grey-bearded
men here that care not to be led about on any boy's
Ihumour.  For me, I stand little upon that; and I care
not whether one boy or another commands me.  But I
am the Lacy's man for the time; and I am not sure, that
in marching to the aid of this Wild Wenlock, we shall
do an errand the Lacy will thank us for.  Why led
he us not thither in the morning, when we were commnanded off into the mountains?"
" You well know the cause," said the page.
"Yes, we do know the cause; or if we do not, we can
guess it," answered the banner-man, with a horse laugh,
which was echoed by several of his companions.
" I will cram the calumny down thy false throat,
Genvil!" said the page; and drawing his sword, threw
himself headlong on the banner-man, without considering their great difference of strength.
Genvil was contented to foil his attack by one, and
as.it seemed, a slight movement of his gigantic arm.
with which he forced the page aside, parrying at the same
time his blow with the standard-spear.
There was another loud laugh, and Amelot, feeling
all his efforts baffled, threw his sword from  Lim, and
weeping in pride and indignation, hastenedbackto tell the
Lady Eveline of his bad success.  "All," he said, " is
lost-the cowardly villains have mutinied, and will not
move; and the blame of their sloth and fainr-heartedness
will be laid on my dear master."
" That shall never be," said Eveline, " should I die
to prevent it.-Follow me, Amelot."
She hastily threw a scarlet scarf ovei her dark garments, and hastened down to the court yard, followed
by Gillian, assuming as she went various attitudes and
actions, expressing astonishment and pity, and by Rose,
carefully suppressing all appearance of the feelings which
she really entertained.
14 VOL. I.




302         TAIAES OF THE CRUSADERS
Eveline entered the castle-court, with the kindling eye
and glowing brow which her ancestors were wont to beai
in danger and extremity, when their soul was arming to
meet the' storm, and displayed'in their rmien and looks
high command and contempt of danger.  She seemed
at the moment taller than her usual size; and it was with
a voice distinct and clearly heard, though not exceeding
tihe delicacy of feminine tone, that the mutineers beard
lher address them.  " How  is this, my masters?" she
said; and as she spoke, the bulky forms of the armed
soldiers seemed to draw closer together, as if to escape
her individual censure.  It was like a group of heavy
water-fowl, when they close to avoid the stoop of the slight
and beautiful merlin, dreading the superiority of its nature and breeding over their own inert physical strengtL.
-"'  ow now?" again she demanded of' them; "is it
a time, think ye, to mutiny, when your lord is absent,
and his nephew  and lieutenant lies stretched on a bed
of sickness? —s it thus ye keep) your oaths? —Tlus ye
merit your leader's bounty? —Shame on ye, craven
hounds, that quail and give back the instant you los,
sight of the huntsman!"
There was a pause-the soldiers looked on each otlher,
and then again on Eveline, as if asliamed alike to holtl
out in thleir mutiny, or to return to their usual discipline.
1' I see how it is, my brave friends-ye lack a leadei
liere; but stay not for. that —  will guide you inysell,
and, woman as I am, there need not a man of you fear
disgrace where a BIerenger commands.-Trap my )alfrey with a steel saddle," she said, " and that instantly."
Shle snatched friom  tile ground the page's ligllt head.piece, and threw it over her hair, cauglgt up his drawn
sword, and went on.  " Here I promise yout my couil-:enance and guidance-this gentleman," she pointed to
Genvil, " shall supply my lack of military sklill.  Jle
looks like a man that hath seen many a (lay of battle:
a.id can well teach t young leader her devoir."




TH1E BETROTHED.                 3(0
" Certes," said the old soldier, smliling in bpite ol
liimself, and shaking his head at tile same time " many
a lbattle have I1 seen, but never under such a comnmander.'
"Nevertheless," said Eveline, seeing how the eyes
of the rest turned on Genvil, " you do not-cannotwill not-refuise to follow me?  You do not as a soldier, for my weak voice supplies your captain's orders
-you cannot as a gentleman, for a lady, a forlorn and
distressed female, asks you a boon-y0tou will not as an
Englishman, for your country requires your sword, and
your comrades are in danger.  Unfurl your banner, then,
and march."
" 1 would do so, upon mny soul, fair lady," answered
Genvil, as if )reparing to unfold  the banner-"' and
Armelot might lead us well enolghll, with advantage of
some lessons from me.   But I wot not whether you are
sending us on the right road."
" Srurely, surely," said Eveline, earnestly; " it must
be the right road which conducts you to tile relief of
Wenlock and his followers, besieged by the insurgent
boors."
I 1 know not," said Genvil, still hesitating.   " Our
leader here, Sir Damian de Lacy, protects the commons
— rnen say lie befriends them-and I know he quarrelled
with Wild Wenlock once for some petty wrong lie did to
the miller's wife at Twyford.  We should be finely off;
when our fiery younr leader is on. foot again, if he should
find we had been fighting against the side hlie favoured."
" Assure yourself," said the maiden, anxiously, " the
more hle would protect the commons against oplpression,
the more lie would lput them  down when oppressing
otlhers.  Mount and ride —save WXenlock and his menthere is life and death in every momrent.  I will warrant
with my life and lands, that whatsoever you do will be
held good service to De Lacy.  Come, then, follow me."
" None surely can know Sir Damian's purpose better than y'ou, fair damsel," answered Genvil; " nay, for
that matt r, you can make him change as ye list-And
io I will nmarch with the men, and we will aid Wenlock ii




304         TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS.
it is yet time, as I trust it may; for he is a rugged wolf,
and when he turns to bay, will cost the boors blood enough
ere they sound a mort.  But do you remain within the
castle, fair lady, and trust to Amelot and me.-Come,
Sir Page, assume the command, since so it must be;
though by my faith it is pity to take the head-piece from
that pretty head, and the sword from that pretty handBy Saint George! to see them there is a credit to the
soldier's profession."
The lady accordingly surrendered the weapons to
Amelot, exhorting him  in few words to forget the offence
he had received, and do his devoir manfully.   Meanwhile Genvil slowly unrolled the pennon-then shook it
abroad, and without putting his foot in the stirrup, aided
himself a little with resting on the spear, and threw himself into the saddle, heavily armed as he was.  " We are
ready now, an it like your juvenility," said he to Ainelot;
and then while the page was putting the band into order.
he whispered to his nearest comrade, " Methinks, instead
of this old swallow's tail,18 we should muster rarely under
a broidered petticoat-a furbelowed petticoat has no fellow in my mind.-Look you, Stephen Pontoys-I can
forgive Damian now for forgetting his uncle and his own
credit about this wench; for by my faith she is one I could
have doted to death upon par amours. Ah I evil luck be
the womten's portion!-they govern us at every turn,
Stephen, and at every age.  When they are young, they
bribe us with fair looks and sugared words, sweet kisses
and love tokens; and when they are of middle age, they
work us to their will by presents and courtesies, red wine
and red gold; and when they are old, we are fain to run
their errands to get out of sight of their old leathern visages.  Well, old De Lacy should have staid at home and
watched his falcon.  But it is all one to us, Steplien, and
we may make some vantage to-day, for these boors have
plundered more-than one castle."
"': Ay, ay," answered Pontoys, the " bcor to the booty
and the b2nner-mar to the boor, a right pithy proverb




THE BETROTHbED                 305
But, prithee, canst thou say why his page-siip leads us
alot forward yet?"
" Pshaw!" answered Genvil, "the shake I gave him
has addled his brains-or perchance he has not swallow..
ed all his tears yet; sloth it is not, for'tis a forward cockleril
for his years, wherever honour is to be won. —See, tlhey
now begin to move. —Well, it is a singular thing this gentle blood, Stephen; for here is a child whom I but now
baffled like a school-boy, must lead us grey-beards where
we may get our heads broken, and that at the command
of a light lady."
" I warrant Sir Damian is secretary to my pretty lady,"
answered Stephen Pontoys, " as thlis springald Armelot
is to Sir Damian; and so we poor men must obey and
keep our mouths shut."
" But our eyes open, Stephen Pontoys-forget not
that."
They were by this time out of the gates of the castle,
and upon the road leading to the village, in which, as they
understood by the intelligence of the morning, Wenlock
was besieged or blockaded by a greatly superior number
of the insurgent commons.  Amelot rode at the head of
the troop, still embarrassed by the affiont which lie had
received in presence of the soldiers, and lost in meditating how he was to eke out that deficiency of experience,
which on former occasions had been supplied by the counselsof the banner-man, with whornm  lie was ashamed to
seek a reconciliation.  But Genvil was not of a nature
absolutely sullen, though anhiabitual grumbler.  He rode
up to the page, and having made his obeisance, respectfully asked him whether it were not well that some one
or two of their number pricked forward upon good horses to learn how  it stood with Wenlock, and whether
they should be able to come up in time to his assistance.
M" Methinks, banner-man," answered Amnelot, " you
should take the ruling of the troop, since you know so
fittingly what shot. d be done.  You may be the fitter to
command, because  But I will not upbraid you."
V*Lo. T




.30?6        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS'
"Because I know so ill how to obey," reiplied Genvil,
that is wlhat you would say; and by my faith, I cannot
deny but there may be some truth in it.   But is it not
peevish in ithee to let a fair expedition be unwisely conducted, because of a foolish word or a sudden action?Come, let it be peace with us."
" With all my heart,"  answered Amelot; " and I will
send out an advanced party upon the adventure, as thou
hlast advised mne."
" Let it be old Stephen Pontoys and two of the Chester
spears-he is as wily as an old fox, and neither liope nor
fear will draw him  a  hairbreadth farther tlan judgment
Warrants."'
Amelot eagerly enibraced the ]lint, and, at his com
mand, Pontoys anld two lances darted forward to reconnoitre the road before thlem, and inquire into the conldition of thlose wllom  they  were adtvancinlg  o succour.
" And now that we are on the old terms, Sir Page," said
tile banner-man, " tell nme, if' tlhout canst, dotll not yonder
fair lady love our landsome knlighllt par aliours?"' It is a false caluiny,"' s-id Amnelot indignantly;
",ietrotliedl as slte is to hlis tuncle, I ani convincetd slhe
would rathler die thlan llave sucll a thoughlit, an1d so wv-otld
ouir tirastel.   1 1have noted this hleretical belief in thlee
before now, Genvil, and I hlave prayed thee to chleck it.
You know tthe tliing cannot be, for you know thley have
scar'ce ever itlet."'' flow slihoulid I know that," said Cenvil, "or thlotu
eithler?  Watchll thein ever so close-n uchl water slides
pst time )nill thlat Hob Aliller never weots of.  I'liey  do
corrtes)ld; thlat, at least, tliou canst not deny?"
"1 (10 leny it," said Anielot, " as I deny all that can
touchl tlheir honours."
1" Then how, in Heaven's name, comes lie by such
plerfect knowledge of lher motions, as lie has displaayed no
lounger since than thle Imorning?"
~' How should I tell?" answered thle page; " tlhere be
such things, surely, as saints and good angels, and i!




THE  BETROTHIED.                     337
there be one on  earth deserves their p.otection, it is
Dame Eveline Berenger."
"  Well said, Master Counsel-keeper," replied Genvil,
laughing; " bult that will hardly pass on an old trooper.
— Saints and  angels, quotha! most saintlike  doings, I
warrant you."
The page was about to continue his angry vindication,
when Stephen Pontoys and his followers returned upon
the spur.  " Wenlock holds out bravel,"  lie exclaimed,
" thoulgh he is felly girded in with these boors.  The large
cross-bows are doing good service; and I little doubt his
maklJing his place good till we come up, if it please you
to ride something sharply.  They have assailed the barriers, and  were close up to them  even now, but were
driven back with small success."
Tile party were now  put in as rapid motion as might
consist with order, and soon reaclled the top of a srmall
eminence, beneath which lay the village where Wenlock
was making his defence.   The air 1ung L    witli the cries
and shouts of the insurgents, whllo, numeous as bees, and
possessed of that dogged spirit of courage so pectlliarl to
the Englisll, thronged like ants to tile barriers, and endeavoured to break down tile palisades, or to clilmb over
tlhem in despite of thle sioiwers of stones andl arrows f'ron
w\itlin, by wvllicll they sffieredl great loss, as well as by
tile swords and( battle-axes of lile lelln-at-arms, lwhenelver
they c(]ame to hlanld-blows.
"We are in tilne, we are in time," saidl AInelot, llropping the reins of lhis bridle, a:tl  joyfl;llly clolpilng!his
Ilands; " sliake tlly banner abroa(l, G(envil —,i ve,'Vlellock and hlis fellows a fair view of it. —Collr'a(ldes, lIalt —
breathle )your  I lorses for a Iolllent.-lH a-k hithlaer, (;envil
-If we descend bly y)onller 1broad patlway  ilito  the
mneadow w-lere the cattle are-"'r aI'Hv(o, Il)' y'Ot)ll  litl'loii "l replliedl Cel vil, w\l)ose
love of b-attle, like thlat of thie var-lhorse of Jolb, ki.diled
at tlhe sighlt of' t le spealrs, and at tl e sound of' thie truinpet; "we shall lhave then an easy field lbr a charge on
yonder knaves."




308         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
" What a thick black cloud the villains make!" said
Alnelot; " but we will let day-light through it with our
lances-See, Genvil, tile defenders hoist a signal to show
they have seen us.'
" A signal to us!" exclaimed Genvil.  "By Heaven
it is a white flag-a signal of surrender."
"Surrender! they cannot dream of it, when we are ad
vancing to their succour," replied Arnelot; when two o0
three melancholy notes from the trumpets of the besieg.
ed, with a thundering and tumultuous acclamation from
the besiegers, rendered the fact indisputable.
"' Down goes Wenlock's pennon," said Genvil, " anlt
the churls enter the barricades on all points. —Here has
been cowardice or treachery-Whlat is to be done?"
" Advance on them," said Amlelot, " retake the place,
and deliver the prisoners."
"Advance, indeed!' answered the banner-man"Not a horse's length by my counsel-we should. have
every nail in our corslets counted with arrow-shot, before
we got down the hill in the face of such a multitude; and
the place to storm afterwards-It were mere insanity."'4 Yet come a little forward along with  me," said the
page; "perhaps we may find some path by which we
could descend un)perceived."
Accordingly they rode forward a little a'ay to reconnoitre the face of the hill, the page still urging the possibility of descending it unperceived amid the conflusion,
when Genvil ansnwered impatiently,    " Unperceived!you are already perceived-here comes a fellow, pricking.
towards us as fast as his beast may trot."
As lie spoke, the rider came up to tllern.  He was a
short, tlick-set peasant, in an ordinary frieze jacket and
hose, with a blue cap on his head, whicll lie had been
scarcely able to pull over a shock head of red llair, that
seemed in arms to repel tile covering.  Thle man's hands
were bloody, and lie carried at llis saddle-blow a linen
bag, wl(uichl was also stained with blood. 1" Ye be of Da.
rnian de Lacy's comlpainy, be ye not?" said thiis lru,le
messenger; and, when they answered in the affir-native




''11         B  l,'l':I'i'OT       I}.  309
he proceeded, wX ith the samne blunt courtesy, " Hob AMiller
of Twyford coinmends hirn to Dainian de Lacy, and, knowing his purpose to amend disorders in the commonwealth,
Hob Miller sends him toll of the grist which he hath grinded;" and with that he tool from the bag a human head,
and tendered it to Amelot.
" It is Wenlock's head," said Genvil-" how his eyes
stare!"
"' They will stare after no more wenches now," said
tile boor-" I have cured him of caterwauling."
" Thou!" said Amelot, stepping back in disgust and
indignation.
"Yes, I myself," replied the peasant; "I am Grand
Justiciary of the Commons, for lack of a better."
"Grand hangiman, thou would'st say," replied Genvil.
" Call it what thou list," replied the peasant. "' Truly,
it behoves men in state to give good example.  I'll bid
no man do that I am  not ready to do myself.  It is as
easy to hang a man, as to say hang him; we will have no
splitting of offices in this new world, which is happily set
up in old England."
"' Wretch!" said Amelot, 1" take back thy bloody token
to them that sent thee! Had'st thou not come upon assurance, I had pinned thee to the earth with my lanceBut, be assured, your cruelty shall be fearfully averoged.
-— Come, Genvil, let us to our men; there is no farther
use in abiding here."
The fellow, who had expected a very different reception, stoodI staring after them  for a few moments, then
replaced his bloody trophy in the wallet, and rode back to
tllem who sent him.
"This comes of meddling with men's amourettes,"
said Genvil; " Sir Damian woulld needs brawl with
Wenlock about his dealings with this miller's daughter,
and you see they account him a favourer of their enterprize; it will be well if others do not take up thle samne
opinion  -I kwish we were rid of the trouble wthich such
suspicions may bring upon us-ay, were it at the tprice
of my' best hom se-i am like to lose llim at any rate witll




310          TALES OF TLE CRUSAI)EPS.
the day's hard seriice, and I would it were the worst't
is to cost us."
Thie party returned, wearied and discomforted, to tle
castle of the Garde Doloureuse, and not without losing
several of their number by the way, some straggling,
owing to the weariness of their horses, and others taking
the opportunity of desertion, in order to join with the
bands of insurgents and plunderers, who had now gath.eredl together in different quarters, ai!d were augmented
by recruits from. the dissolute soldiery.
Anmelot, on his return to the castle, found that the state
of his master was still very  precarious, and  that tlhe
Lady Eveline, though much exhausted, liad not yet retired to rest, but was awaiting his return with impatience.
He was introduced to her accordingly, and, with a heavy
heart, mentioned the ineffectual event of his expedition.
" Now the saints have pity upon us!" said the  l,adly
Eveline; " for it seems as if' a plague or pest attached to
me, and extended itself to all -who interest themselves in
my welfare.  From  the moment they do so their very
virtues became snares to them; and what Wvo-tld, in
every otlier case, reconmmend tlhel  to honIourL1, is tlined
to destruction to tlle friends of' Evelinle BSeregelr.
"Fear not, fair lady," replied Amlelot;; tlhere are
still men enourll in nyv master's camnlp to [Iput down these
disturbers of' tlle puib)lic I)eace.  1 ill )tbut abidle to ireceive his instructionlls, anl will  hence tn()-mlorrow, alnd
drawv outt a force to restore quiet ill tills part of the
coullltry. "
"' Alas! you knowv not yet tl]e worst of it," replied
Eveline.'" Since you went lhence we  1a\ve received
c(lrtain notice, that vlwhen tile soldiers at Sir 1Dlaian'~s
cari;p heard of the accident wlichl1 lie thlis inorl'ingl  act
wvitlm, all:eady discontented witll tile ilncative life wuliicli hly
iia( of late led, and disipirited by tile itn1rts a:-nd rc1pr'tced
deatlh of their leader, tley  hlave altogedtler broken u p;iand dispersed their forces.-Yet be of good courageP, Amnelot,'" she slid; " this house is' sirong enough to bear
omit a wrorse tempest than any that is likely to be poured




THE  BE;TROTHED.                        31ll
on it; and if all men desert your master in wounds an:d
affliction, it becomes yet more the part of Eveline Berenger to shelter and protect lier deliverer."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
" Let our proud trumpet shake their castle wall,
Menacing death and ruin."
OTWAY.
TIlE evil news with which the last chapter concluded
were necessarily told to Darnian de Lacy, as the person
whom  they chiefly  concerned; arid Lady  Eveline herself undertook the task of com-municatinig them, mningling
what she said  with  tears, and  again interrtlpting  th-lose
tears to suggest topics of' Ilope and  conllfrt, which carried no consolation to her own bhosoim.
The wounded  knirllt (onntille(ld with  hlis  face tulrned
towards ller, listenintg to  tlhe   dtisastrots titdings, as one
who was no otlierwise  afi[cte(i by  thlelm, thlan a s thley
regarded  hter who told the storv.    Vh.l:en slie had dlone
s;leakilar, ie conltililued as in a reverie, witl Ills eyes so
intelItly fixed    )oll liefr, that slhe rose tip, witll thie ptlrpo,)se of' witviddrawin, firtonl I)ooks lby  lich  shle fe lt!l: herself
etllll)arrassetl.   lie!iastelied  to speak, tlhat ie lii.!rlit
)'reven;t lter dfltirttulre.'    All tihalt voi hlave said, fiair
1l.dt y,"!h?  elitri,(, "!' ~ Iha(d bi enougth!, if told by anlltler, to ha1tve  lrt)oken  nll' Iarlt1t; (ir- itt tells 111e tjlat tl(e w)()w!er an(tli,t)otr of' ii]v!I!ose, sro  solenllrn   (ornti,1itted  to
my (limr'ge, have t)een Iblastedt  in IIyr misfrtutmies.  [B uIt
wtleln  I looik  tipo)n  yoil, andll    ieatl  our voice, I forg e1
evet-h'@  atJi,.Sa'1Vio1(r ilit vt)1 IllicV, b~en  res.iemd, a iid a1re
ber1'e i1n  al-)o.!om ({ nod'saetvl.  e  llmei i   tlierue'ore  plr:'I  of
VOn!.' Irt)(i'{1neSS tlhl:i I lIl\'v (be re!lloved  fi'rol' tle  (c:alstie
vhichl lolds yl,. and sen>t elsewlhere.   I ain in no shape




31k2         TAiLES OF THE CtUSADEit,11S.
worthy of your farther care, since I have no longer the
swords of others at my disposal, and am  totally unable
for the present to draw my own."
" And if you are generous enough to think of me in
your own misfortunes, noble knight," answered Eveline,
can you suppose that I forget wherefore, and in whose
rescue, these wounds were incurred?  No, Dandian,
speak not of removal-while there is a turret of the
Garde Doloureuse standing, within that turret shall you
find shelter and protection.  Such, I am well assured,
would be the pleasure of your uncle, were lie here in
person."
It seemed as if a sudden pang of his wouMc had seized
upon Damian; for, repeating the words " My uncle!"
be writhed himrnself round, and averted hIis face from
Eveline; then again composing himself, replied, " Alas!
knew my uncle how ill I lhave obeyed his precepts, instead of sheltering me within this house, lie would command me to be flung froml the battlements."
"Fear not his displeasure," said Eveline, again preparing to withdraw; " but endeavour, by the composure
of your spirit, to aid the healing of your wounds; when,
I doubt not, you will be able again to establish good
order in tile Constable's jurisdiction, long before his
retu rn."
Shlle coloured as slhe pronounced the last words, and
hastily left the apartment.  Whenll shle was in her own
chamber she dismissed lher otller attendants, and retainad Rlose.   " What dost tou tlillnk of these things, nmy
wise maiden and monitress?" said she.
"I would.," replied ]Rose, " either tllat tllis you0.ng
knighil had never entered this castle-or, tlht being liere,
tle coula presently leave it-or, that lie could hoolurably remain llere for ever."
"' What do;t thou mean by remaining here for t ver?"
said Eveline, shlar!nlv; and ]lastily.
" Let nme answer tll;t question with anotller-i-low
long has tlhe Constable of Chester been  absent liomi
England?'




THE  BETItOTI-IED.                      31 [
"Tiiree  years  come  Saint Clement's  Day,"  said
Eveline;'"and what of that?"
"Nay, nothing, but          "
" But what?-I conlmand you to speak out."
"A tew\ weeks will place your hand at yourown dispo)sal."
"And think you, Rose," said Eveline, rising witih dig.
nitv    tlthat thlere are no bonds save those which are ir1aw-n
by the scribe's pen? —We know little of the Constable's
adventures; but we know  enougl1 to slhow tllat his towering  hopes have  fallen, and  his sword  and(  coulrag'e
proved  too  weak to change the  fortunes of the  Sultan
Saladin.   Suppose him  returning some brief time hience,
as we have  seen so many crusaders regail  tlheir lhioes,
poor and  broken in  health —suppose tllhat lie finds llis
lands laid waste, and his followers disp)ersed, by the conlsequence of their late Ilistortunes, lioxv wotuld it solunIt
sliould lhe also find that llis betrotlhed bride lad -    edded
and endowed witli lier sulbstance tie  nephllew  wllonl lie
mnost trusted?-Dost thou thlink suclI all engagelnent is
like a Lombard's niortgage, whllicll lust be  re(leetnledl
onl tile very day, else forfeiture is sure to be awatrded(l?"' J cannot tell, madam," replied Itose;    l,it tiley tliat
keep) tlheir covenanlt to  tile letter, are, inll ly cotllltlr',
lielld boundltl  to no Inore."
"That is a Flemlisll fiaslhion, lRose," saidl h)er mIistltess;
b' tit tie Itonont  ol'  a Nor. tnli  is tlOt  satisa'le'd  witlh anl
t)servanice so.lilnitedt.       lVltat! wotldst tlhou  Iave ttt'
1iollOit, Illy! dffe(tious, mily duity, all thlit is most o lStta|le
to:t wonidi(   d:e)1uil d onl the same I, )rolress of tile kal 1ldlar wliicit am  ustirer watchies 5for thi' piri',l)se of sc5i/;lmt
on a   forli. itedl pl)title?.-Ai\n I sci m1e  a   1mere co'()lunlleitv
that I itisi belong  to one  nant it' lie clailis mite l}-,'!re.1ic'ltaellmiias, to ant)tiller i' lie cotines afterwards?  — No,
rlnse. I d(lid nolt t!l'ms intertpret mt'v elgalgemctltt, sait timl,,edc as i'. vwas by tlte special ilrovidence   of O ur l a I ly o0
tilme (ide e l)ololmirelsc."
It is a feeligtr wortlly of \'Ott, miv d{earest!ladv." a;nawered tlme atteltllant,' yet.you are so )'ouL — s b)cetl
VOL. 1.




~3114          TALES OF THE C' RUSAin ERS.
with  perils —so much l    exposed to calumny-thai I, at
least, looking forward  to the time when you may hatve
a legal companioi and protector, see it as an extrication
from much doubt and danger."
"Do not think  of it, Rose," answered Eveline; "' do
not liken your mistress to those provident dames, whlo,
while one husband yet lives, thlough in old age or weak
hlaitlh, are prudently  engaged in plotting  for another."
"Enough, my dearest lady," said Rose;-" yet niot
so.  Permit me one word inore.  Siilce you are deter- mined not to avail yourself of your lireedom, even when
the fatal period of your engagement is exl)ired, wxvhy suffer this young man to share our solitude?-He is surely
well enouigh to be removed to some other place of security.  Let us resume  our former sequlestered  mode of,l'e, until Providence send us somne better or more certain prospects."
Eveline silghed-looked down —then looking upwards,
unce mnore had' opele(d her lips to express her willillng ess
to enforce so reasonable an arran-genient, but for Dtailnian's recent wounds, and tile distrlacted state of thlle country,  hllen shle was interrulpted by the shrill souidl  of
tirutinets, blown before thle tate of tile castle; andl  Raoll, xvit}h anxiety onl his lbrow, calne limlining to inform  lhis
ladly, that a knigh1t, lattended by)) a   ntlslivat-at-anas, in
tlhe royal livi\e.rv', wxiltl a sironIIg gilarl'({,  was ill nl''i1t of ()tle
castlte, ai(l delimatle(l allittainc('e in tlea nalme of tleI Kig.
Evelile paltscetd a llmome   ere sle rclpllic(l, " Nut e'\en
to tie Klilg's oriler  shiall Ilhe castle iof i)I, anetlestors i:)e
opened!, until we arre well assurei   of t le iclrsoill by  X h(o),
alld tile  urlpose for which. it       d is llli ii    We   ill
oirlself io thle  }ltratel   it leairn tIhe     Ofcanintu  ofl tlhis sum11ntonts.-:A.ly  veil, i[.rse;,ail( c(alil v11!.'mn11. -A,-ain
tIlat trltilopet sounds! Alas! it rings like a sigtnal to (death
T'Ile  ot"olletic  apprlrelllnsions of Evehline w-ere  not
falise; for scar ice ha(l slie meat' liedl tile de(or, (of' tile Lia;lt.
ment. wllen:;Ite wvas met ty! tile p}a ue Amelot, inr a state
of suchJ disordered apl)lrehelision as an eleve of chivalry




THE BE'TROTHED.                          31 5
was  scarce  on  any   occasion  permitted   to   display.
" la(ly, ilnoble  lady,"  lhe  saitl, hastily beiicling his kilee
to Eveline, "save my  dearest lnaster! —You, and.you
alone~ can s.tve himn at this extremity."
"I!" said  Eveliine, in  astonisllinelit-" I save  him.?
-And from  wtlat daller?-  God knows hlow willinlyv!"
There she stoplp)ed shlort, as if afiraid to  trust hersell
withl etxpressing, whiat rose to her lips.
";tiy -1lontliertiler, lad)y, is at the gate, with a parsuti\vail adtl  tile  royall balier.   Thle ilereditary enemny
of t!le  o-ltlse of Ilacy, tllhls accoipl)anie(l, comes hither
fir' 1lo  good-thli  extent of' tile evil I know:not, but for
evil lie cotlles.   Aly inaster slew  lls lel)llnew at thle  field
of Aldaltjs,  ndlcl tllrelotee     "   lie was hlere interruiptedt Iy antlher fIlnl)tlisl  of  tl'lmllj)tS, whlic'll  r g as it' ill
slrt ill un, t.patiece tllroull l tlhe valtlts of thlle aciellt fortress.
TFlhe  Il.d),y E'velille hlsted to tlle gate, alld fo)tld tl at
the wardells, a[id( othlers whlo atlt'tl(ie(l the'ere, were lookimg on each othier withI (li)titf  I and alarmed comntenances, \whiichl tiley turl'led  tIl(on lher a t her arrival, as if to
seeik fl'oM   tileir  Iistress thle colb)rit alldl tle cotrage
wthich( t11e!      c,' (ol  t  co) i111c1i('aicte  to  each   otlier.
Witllout thle,ate(,  Illmn1111tet, alll  ill (o"11plete  armtlour,
was an eld e rly andl sa lltlv kllilt \\-ll hose riised v\isor andl
beaveri (ldleressetl  slhoed  I heard  a lieadly  griizzled
Beside  i:i t) alp})eared i lile ptursuiva iit  oil hlrsebact; tle
ro1al at11rs etlbroidtlred o()n Iis heraldtic dress of' office,
and-  all tle  implll)r't:(lit le  of ofifetlct(l conseq(tlenice onl liis
coltutellaice, w\lich  wal s sl-adled  byl  Is barret-ca!p  atiil
trifle plitne.   Thley were altten(led  lby a body of about
fifty soldiers, arrantged nlnderrc   tile guidon of Eiigland.
When the  Lady Eveline appeared at the barrier, tle
knight, after a slight reverence, whlich  seemed  more in
folnrmal courtesy tlhan  in  kindness, d(emanded if le  saw
th1e  (laugl ter of Raylnond  Berenger.   "And is it,"  he
cotitinued, when le had received an answer in th1e aflirinwtive,  " before the castle of tliat approved and favoured  servant of thle  eHourse  of Anjotl, that Kilg -Henry's
l(,pelic. 1have thrice  soiletd, withouli oblt:i-ning an et.




s]G          TTAT,AS OF THlE  CriUSADEnSo
trance for tllose xiwho are honoured with their SovaCieign'.
AMy   condition," answered  Eveline, " must excuse
myt caution.  I am a lone nmaiden, residinig il a fr1ontie
fortress.  I may adumit no one without inqiriniig his puLtrpose, and being assured that h1s entrance consists  with
thll safety of tile place and1 mine own lhonourl."
"Siice yout are so  punctilious, lady," replied Aeontilermer,'   knlow, tliat ill tle present distractedt   slate ol
the country, it is hIis Grace the King's pleasIlre to place
withlin your walls a boldy of' n:el-at-aritlls, stufldcient to
guard tllis important castle both lrom  the iismrgeiint peasants,  lvho burn andl slay, an(l fromi tile \\Velcl,  bxiho, it
rmost be expecte(l, will, accordling to thleilr Xolt ill tilne
of' distitrb1inc'e, make inclrsions onl tile f'roltierls.  U1)1(1o
y'our gates, tlheni, Lady of' lerenger, anid sufltbr his Grace's
t;rces to enter thle castle."
"Sir Knighit," answered thle ]adl!, "'tlis castle, like
every other ftortress in England, is tile hKin"g's ly Law
but by lawv also I am  thle kleeler and;  det(lctlder of it,
and it is the tenure by whlich  lly  ancestors held thlese
lands.  I hlave meln enoughll  to laintain th:e Gardc 1Dolotmireise in my timle, as lmy fatliier, and m( y ) grulndfillldler
before  lilm, defendled it in tlieirs.  Tlhe Kini- is graucious
to send fne succours, l:ut I need not tlme aid of hlirelil;gs;:leitller do I thlinkl it safe to admnit su(ch  into  my' castle,
whllo imay, in this lawless time, make thlemselves in;astetr
of it ifor otl!er tliaim its lawfiul -istless."
" Iady," replie(l tile old wlarrior, " hlis Grace  is not
ignorant of thle motives wllichl p1rod(cce a colltul'lalcly like
this.  It is not any  alpprehlension  for thle royal forces,
%vhichl influences you, a royal vassal, in  tllis refractory
coducit.  I might p)roceed upon your refusal to iroclaim
yout a traitor to the Crown, but tle King remelbers the
services of your father.  Know, then, w-e are not ignoranlt
that Damian  de Lacy, accused of instigating and head.
ing thlis insurreietion, of deserting his duity in the field
anid abandoning a noble comrade to  thle  sword  of the
hluta:] pasants, 1has fouind shelter under thli.s rotof, t itl




THE BETROTHEDI.                    3
little credit to your loyalty as a xvassal, or your conduct
as a high-born maiden.  Deliver hiln up to us, and( 1 will
draw off these men-at-arms, and dispense, thouigh I may
scarce answer doing so, with tle occupation of the castle."
" Guy de Monthermer," answered Eveline, " lie that
throws a stain on my namle, speaks falsely and unworthily; as for Damian de Lacy, lie knows how to defend
Itis own fame. This only let me say, that while he takes
his abode in the castle of the betrothed of his kinsman,
she delivers him to no one, least of all to his well-known
feudal enelny.-Drop the portcullis, wardens, and let it
not b)e raised without my special order."
The Iortcullis, as sl)e spoke, fell rattling and clanling
to the groulnd, and Mlontlieriner, in baffled spite, remaine(l excluded fiom the castle.  "Unworthy lady-" he
began in ipassion, thlen clhecking himself, said calmrly
to the pulrslivant, " Ye are witness that slle liath admitted that the traitor is witliin that castle —ye are witness
that, lawfully summoned, this Eveline Berenger ~Yefuses
to deliver him up.  Do your duty, Sir Pursuivant, as is
t( slual in suchl cases."
Thile  )urstlivant then advanced and. proclaimed, in
the forlmal and fatal phrase befitting the occasion, that
Eveline Berenger, lawfuilly summoned, refusing to adanit tile King's forces into lier castle, and to deliver up
tie body of a false traitor.called Damian de Lacy, had
herself incurred the penalty of high treason, and had involved witlhin the same doom all who ai(led, abetted, or
maintained her in holding out the said castle against their
allegialice to Henry of Ainjou.  Tlhe trumpets, so soon
as the voice of tlle herald hlad ceased, confirmed the
doom  lie had pronounced by a long and ominous peal,
startling from their nests the owl and the raven, who replied to it by their ill-boding screams.
The defenders of the castle looked on each other with
1)lank and  dlejected countenances, while AMonthermer,
raising aloft his lance, exclaimed, as lie turned his borse
from the castle-gatei " Wh7en I next approach thle Garde
VO0L, 1l




S18'1TALES  OF T'HE  CRUSADERS.
Doloureuse, it will be not merely to intimate, out to
execute, the mandate of my Sovereign."
As Eveline stood pensively to behold tile retreat of
Monthermer and  hlis associates, and to consider what
was to be done in this emergency, she heard one of
the Flemings, in a lowv tone, ask an Englislhman who
stood beside  him  whllat was tlle jmeaning of a traitor
"One who  betrayeti     a trust reposed-a betrayer,'
said thle interpreter.
The phrase whiich he used recalled to Eveline's imemnory her boding vision or dreal.  " Alas!" slie said, " tle
vengeance of the fiend is about to be acclmnplishled.
Widowed w-ie and wedded(l  maid-tllese  epithets lhave
long been n-ine.  13etrotled!-\voe's ie! it is the keystone of myr destiny.  13etraycr I an now  drtelinoellcd,
tloulh, thank (od, I am  clear tlrol tlhe guillt!  It only
fiollows that I:lio1ld 1;e ic tracd(, "ntd tile evil Ijrclliecy
will be fulfilled to the very letter."
CIHAPTER XXIX.
Out oln y, owls!-iNothlnig but s{,;ngs of tie'atlh?
RichllrJ 1II.
lMoruni  tihan three montlhs hln(l elapsed since tle event
narrated ill tile list c(hapl)er, aii(l it hliaid 1([ecn tl.e 1lrcenlrsort (,' others of still grelter iiil 1tance, w-Vlic h will evr,'ve
themlselves in Ifie course of' or narrative.  I3ut, as vxe
profess to preseilt to thle reader not a precise detail ot
circumstances, a.ccordcingt to tlteir ordler and date, but a
sertes of pictures, endeavouring to exibit the most striking incidents before  the eye or inmagination  of those
whomn it may concern, we illerefore open a new  scene.
tnd  ) ling other actors upon thle stage.
Alcn.g  a  vwasted tract of country,  more than  twelve
wtiile;s distant friom the Garde Doloureuse, in the hleat ot




TIHE  BETROTHEII                    3 1J
a stmlner noon, which; shed a turning lustrc onl thle sllenm
valle)y, and the blackened ruims of tile cottages withl
which it had been oni&e graced, two travellers  walked
slowly, whose palmer c:loaks, pilgrim  staves, large slouched hats, with a scallop shell bound on the fiont of each,
above all, the cross, cut in red  cloth upon  their slioulders, marked then: as pilgrimns who had  accomlplislhed
their vow, and had returned fromn tlhat fatal bourne, fiomn
which, in those  days, returned  so few of the tlhousands
who visited  it, wl:;ether in tile love of enterprize, or in
the ardc)our of devt):ioln.
The pilgrimns had  passed, that iorning, thlrough  a
scene of devastation siinilar to, anid scarce surpassed in
misery by, ttlose whitch they)  lad often trodl during tihe
w     flls of' tlhe Cross.  Tlihey had seen li'lalets vwhichl appeared to l,-ve s:feerl d all tlie fury of mnilitary executii, tile iiho-ses!il)ng  bul)trned to the grolind; and in
nantl,,y cases thle clr'arases of' tile mliserable illhabitanllts,
or rather reliecs of sut;ci obljects, were suispended on teinporary gibbets, or on, tlhe trees, wxliiicl hlad been allowed
to reinlain  sIatiliing, olly, it wouhll  seem, to serve the
cunIlefnienle of t lI. exe, lti),rcs.   I ivinll  creatures tlhey
saw  ilo:ie, excepi,:lfr those wtild dlenizens of' liatulle w-lio
seene(t silently retsumii:g thle now \wasted distr'ict, froml
\\liichl ttey,ight;avle been fiormlerly exS)elledl by the
coulrse of civilizarton.    Thleir e.arISs were no less tdisagreeablv occupied! ttian tleir eves.  Ttie pensive travellers:nir,hlt itldeed ilar tIhe screamns of the rave:n, as if
lai(en;till, tile (lecn)'  of the carnlage on)  whliicl lihe ha(l
beegn orgdg (1;  an:l  rhow  and tlien the plaintive  hon xl of
solle dlog, del)rived ot hlis lhome  and  llnaster; but no
sounds wlicll  a'rgued eitlher labour or domestication  ot
r.l1y kind.
Thle sable filgures who, with wearied steps, as it appeared, trave led thro,t:Ih  tlhese  scenes of desolation  and
ravage, seemed assimilated to them in appearance.  They
spoke not withi eaclh otller-they looked lnot to each qther
—,b!ut one, tlhe slhorter of the pair, keeping about!half
a pace in front of his companion, they. moved slo%:]ly.




[3S~,        TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
as pries:s returning from a sinner's death-bed, or rathlei
as spectres flitting along the preciJlcws of a chlurchc-yarld.
At lengtll thley reached a giassy mound, on thle top oI
vllicll was placed one of those receptacles for the dead
ofl tle ancient Britisht ctliets of distinction, called KistVaen,,wlicll are composed of uprighlt frlagments of granite,
so platced as to forin a stone coffin, or somletling hearing
tlhat reseiblance.  Tile sepulclhre hiad been long violated.
by tdhe victorious Saxons, eitller in scorn or in idle curiosity,
or htecause treasulres were supp)osed to be sometimes co:nce-led in suchi spots.  The hugie flat stone wh.ichl had
once been tile cover of tile coffin, if so it might be termed, lay broken in two pieces at some distance firoll the
sepulchtre; and overgrown as tile fi'agmients were wvith
griass and lichllens, showedl plainly that tile lid had been
reiiioved to its present situation manyr years before. A
stunted and doddered oak-tree still spread its branchlies
over the open and rude mausoleunm, as if the Drurid's
badge and emblem, shattered and storm-broken, was still
bending to offer its protection to the last remnnants of
their worshlip.
" This, then, is the Kist-vaen," said the shorter pilgrim; "and here we must abide tidings of our scout.
But w-llat, Philip Guarine, have we to expect as an explanation of the devastation which we have traversed?'
"' Some incursion of the Welch  wolves, my lord,"
replied Guarine; "and by Our Lady, here lies a poor
Saxon sheep whllom  they h1ave snappedl up."
The Constable (for he was the pilgrim who had walked foremost) turned  as lhe heard his squire speak, and
saw tle corpse of a man amongst the long grass; by
whlich, indeed, it was so hidden, that lie himself had passed without notice, what the esquire, in less abstracted
mood, had not failed to observe.  The leathern doublet
of the slain bespoke him an English peasant-the nody
lay on its face, and the arrow which had caused his tdeatb
still stuck in his back.
Philip Guarine, with the cool indifference of one accus.
tonled to such acenesi drew  the shaft fromn tile man's




TII E BETPROTIIED.                  321
back, as composedly as lie woulld have removedl it.roln
tlhe lody of' a deer.  WVith simlilar illdifilrence tile Con
stable signed to his esquire to give limn tile arrowv-looked at it  witli indolent curiosity, and tlecn said, " Thou lias
orI(gotten thy old craft, Guarine, when thou callest that
a Welchll sliaft.  Trust me, it flew froml  a Nonman 1)ow;
but wvliy it shoulld be found in the body of' that English
clltirl, I can ill guess."
"Some r'unaway serf, I would warrant-some mongrel
ceri, who had joinled  the NWelcll paclk of 1hou1nds," anlswe'red tile cs(lIlire.
" It lmay le so," said the Constable;'  but I rather
aup'r sonle civ;i war among tlle  ords Marchers  tilemeselves.   Thie WVecch, indlceed, sweep) the villages, and
leave notlling belind thlem  but blood anld  aslies, but
lhere even castles seemn to hlave been stormJed and taken.
May God sen(d tls goodtl news of' tie Garde Dolouretise!"
"Almieln!" repliedl his squire; " but if Renatult Vidal
brings it,'twill be tile first tiune lie has proved a bird of
(roof olnenl."
"llPilil," said tile Constable, "I have already told
thee tlhou art a jealous-pated  fool.  l-Iow  many  tinmes
lhas Vidal-slshown lis faithl in doubt —his address in diffictllty —his  coJurage  in battle-h-is patience under suffering i?";' It I may be all very true, my lord," replied Guarine;
" yet-but what avails to speak?-I own lie blas done
you sometimes good service; but loathl were I tlhat yoiur
life or hlonourl wele at the mercy of Renault Vidal."
" In the nalne of all tile saints, thou peevisll and
sllspiciolus fool, what is it thou canst found  upon to his
pr ejudice?"
"Nothing, my lord," replied Guarine, "  but instinctive
suspicion and aversion.  The clhild tlhat, for the first tiihe,
sees a snake, knows nothing of its evil properties, yet he
will lnot chase it and taklle it up as lhe would a butterfly:
Such! is my dislike of Vidal-l cannot help it. I could pardon thle mw'n hlis tmalicious and gloormy sidelong looks, when
be'w tblinks no one ohserves him l; but hlis sneering laughl 1




322           TALES OF THE  CRUS ADIIit:s.
cannot forgive-it is like the beast we heard of In Jtdea,
Wihlo laLugls, they say, before lie tears and destroys.""Philip," said De Lacy, "I am sorry for thee-sorry, fiom my soul, to see such a predominating and causeless jealousy  occupy  the brain of a gallant old soldier.
H-ere, in tltis last misfortune, to recall no more aJlcient
proofs of his fidelity, could lie mean otherwise than weli
%with us, wllen, thrown by shipwreck upon  the coast of
Wales, we would have been doomed to instant death, had
tile Cymri recognized in me the Constable of Cihester,
and in thee his trusty esquire, the executioner of lis commands against the Welchl in so ilany instanc(es?1"
" I acknowledgee," said  Phlilip Guarine, I' deatl hand
surely been outr ftortune, liad not tllat nian's ingenuity repIesented us as pilgriis, anl,  di,  Cer tlart cl l;aral.ter, acted
as our interpretelr —an  in tlhat c1laracter lie entirely pireiludred us troml  getting inlforlnation from any ofne respc. etilmg the state of things lhere. \\xichic  it beloved your lordsilip much to know, and whlichl  I must needs say looks
glooely  alld slSpicious enoigh)."
"Still art thollt a fool, Guarine," said thle Constal)le;'for, look v on, had Vidal meant ill by us, xx h!y slotiuld;ie
not have  betrayed  lus to thle Welchi, or slifihured tis, by
slhowing such  knowvledge as tltou al;d I may lnave of il'ei
gibberish, to betray ourlselve s?"
"Well, my lord," saiid Guarine, "1  myv be silenced,
but not satisfied.   All thle fair words hie can speak-U all
tf.e fine tinies lie can play-'Renatilt Vidal will be to mny
eyes ever a dark and suslpicious inan, r wit  fei!aturles al-ays
ready to mould tliemselves into the fittest. lbor0m to attract
confidence; with a tongue ftiamled to titter the ljost flattering and agreeable words at one time, and at atnotlher to
play shtrewd  plainness or bltint honesty; and an eye
wlhich, when he tliinks himself unobserved, contradicts
every assumted expression of features, every protestation
of honesty,  and every word of ccurtesy or cordiality to
whichl his tongute hnas given utterance.  Btut I speak not
more on tihe sub.ject; only I am  an old mastiff, of the
true hreed —  love mly mnaster, but cannot endure some ol




TfiHE  BETROTHED..32*
hose whom he favours; and yonder, as I judge, comes
Vidal, to give us such an account of our situation as it
shall please hlim."
A horseman was indeed seen advancing in the path
towards tile Kist-vaen, with a hasty pace; and his dress,
in which somn-ething of the eastern fashion was manitfest,
with tile fantastic attire usually worn by men of his profession, made the Constable aware that the minstrel, of
whom they were speaking, was rapidly approaching them.
Although Hugo de Lacy rendered this attendant no
more than what in justice he supposed his services demanded, when he vindicated him fiorn tile suspicions
thrown out by Guarine, yet at the bottom of his heart he
had sometimes shared those suspicions, and was often
angry at himself, as a just and honest man, for censuring,
on the slight testimony of looks, and sometimes casual
expressions, a fidelity which seemed to be proved by
many acts of zeal and integrity.
When Vidal approached and dismounted to make Iris
obeisance, his master hasted to speak to him in words of
ftvour, as if conscious he had been partly sharing Guarine's unjust judgment ulpon him, by even listening to`it.
"   elcome, my trusty Vidal," he said; " thotl  ast been
the raven thllat fed us on tlhe mountains of Wales, be now
the dove that brings uts good tidings fromn the marclles.Thou art silent.  What mean these downcast looks-that
embarrassed carriage —tghat cap plucked down o'er tlhinle
eyes?-In God's naine, man, speak!-Fear not for Inle
— I can bear worse thlan tongtlre of' ian  may tell.''liou
hast seen me in the nwars of 1Palestine, whlen Imy brlve
fo)llowers tfell, ilan b)y Iall?, arounllld  e, and( wlln I was
left well nigil alle-awl( did I blench tlhen?-T'llot halsi
seen Imle whel the sliilp's keel lay grating on tle rock, alnd
tile billows flexw in floaln (ever lier deck-h did I blencll
thlen?-No-nor wrill I now."-;[1onst not," said tile minstrel, looking fixedlyr uipon
tile Constable, as tile forlner assumed tile lort and c.untenance of one \vlo sets bortm!ne and her utmtost nmalice;}1
defiance —-" loast not, lest thy bands be made strollg."




2324         TALES  OF rTHE  CRUSADERS*
Tlhere was a pause of a minute, during which the groulp
formed at this instant a singular picture.  Afraid to ask;
yet ashamed  to seem  to fear the ill tidings which im
pended, the Constable  confronted his mnessenger with
person erect, arms folded, and brow expanded with resolution; while the minstrel, carried beyond his usual and
guarded apathy by the interest of the moment, bent on
his master a keen fixed glance, as if to observe whether
his courage was real or assumed.
Philip Guarine, on. the other hand, to whom  heaven, in
assigning hnimn a rough exterior, had denied neither sense
nor observation, kept his eye in turn firmly fixed on Vidal,
as if endeavouLilng to determine xlwhat was the character
of thlat deep interest which gleamed in the ministrel's looks
ap)parently, and was unable to ascertain whethler it was that
of a flitlhftll dornmestic sympatl)etically agitated by thle bad
nesws  witll wvlhicl lie was about to afflict his master, or thlat
of an executioner standing with his Lnife sutspencled over
his victim, dleetrr'in  his blow until lie should  discover
wvliere it wvould be mlost sensibly lilt.  In Guarine's mind
prejudiced, perhaps, by the previotls opinion hle had entelrtained, the latter sentiment so decidedly predominated,
that lhe longed to raise hlis staff, and strike down to the
earth tile servant, who sceemed tihus to enjoy the protracted sifl'eriinrs of their common master.
At letigtll aq convulsive mnovemenlt crossed tlhe brow
of tile Co.asable, and Glatrine, when lie lclhel(l a sardonic
sml ile begin to curll Vid'al's lip), could keel) silence no longer.' Vidal,"' he said, " thlotl at a-' "
A  bearer of bad tidings,'" sanid Vidal, inlterrlpting
Lill, " tlerefore stllbject to tile misconstrulction of evet y
fool wh!o cannot dlistilguisl between tlle authtlor of Ilarnl
antl( in   hol unwlillN inTlyEO   reporls it."
"'     wlhat )III-)pose this del1ay?" said lie C'o.nst:al1Ie.
" Comle, Sir 1i\inst rel, I will sp>are you a p1ang-Ev;eli1ne
Ilhas forsalcn and fl'orgottclen  e?"'T'lie  li iistrel asselite(l! by' a   la  w iinClle nti,:rn.
i[{tigo  de  Iacy1' paIcedl    shlort turn before tlhe stene
tooLnuinellit, eCldeavoturilg to conquer thei dee(:   emnotion




TI-E BETROTHED.                     3 2)
lhich lhe felt.      1I forgive her,11" he!!t.   " Forive,
tdidl I say?-Alas!  I have notlling to foirgive.  Sh e:d
but thle right I left i  her handcl — es-our c:te of t:ngYagement was out-shie lhad heard of mny  losses- -my
defeats-the destruction of' my hol)es-tlle expenldititre
of my wealth; and has taken the first opportunity wliich
strict law afforded, to brieakt off her eniiwgelnetnt with one
btankIrupt in fortunle and fame.  Many a maiden would
have done,-perhaps in prudence should ihave done, —
this;-but thiat woman's name should not have been Eveline Berenger."
He leaned on his esquire's arm, and for an instant
laid his head on this shoulder with a (lepth of eInotion
which Guarine had never before seen him betray, and
which, ini awlkxVward kindness, he could only attemp}t to
console by bidding  his nmaster' hbe of good couragehe hat( lost but a woman."
" This is no selfish emotion, Philip," said the Constable, resuming self-command.  " I grieve less that she thas
left me, th-an that she has misjudged me —that slle lhas
treated me as the pawnbroker (loes his wretched creditor,
who arrests the pledge as the very monlent elapses withiin
wvhich it inigilt  have been relieved.  Did she thfen tlilk
that I in my turn would have been a creditor so rinid?
-tlhat I, who, since I knew  her, scarce deelned lnyself
wortihy of her when I had wealtV h  and farce, slloltlrl insist orl her sharing imy dimlinished and degraded foirtunles?
Hlow little ste ever knew  me, or ]how  selfislh must sl:e
have supposed my misfortunes to have made me i!  cilt
be it so —she is goine, and Inay she be happy.'il',e
thoughlt that slhe listurbed nce shall pass fri-om my:::in.d;
antd I wvill tllink shle has done that whlich I Ill)-s.:lf; as
hler best friend, must in lonour hlave a(dlvised."
So saying, liis countlc'allce?, to the sturp,'ise of his attendants, resum ned its ustlal tirtn cotnlmposl:ue.
"  give vOl jo!v," sail the esquirle, inl a whi\\;per t:o, tIc
mnistrel; " your eyvil lnews 1ave wvotulllled less dc:tlj.di
than, dloubtless, you believed xwas possible."
15  votel. 1




3z.            a'1 ALES  OF TlHE  CRUSADERS.
" Acl.s!" rplied  the  minstrel, "I have  others  and
Worse behind'''This:1Jsweiv-  wa.S made in an equivocal tone of voice,
correspoiimng i'.   tile peculiarity of his manner, and like
that seemil:ag e-motion of a deep but very doubtful character.
" Exeline Berenger is then married," said the Constable; " and, let me make a wild guess,-she  has not
abandoned  the family, though  she has forsaken the  individual-she  is still a Lacy, ha?-Dolt that thou  art,
xnilt thou  not understand me?   She is married  to Damian de  lacy-to my nephew?"
The effort wit:h which the Constable gave breath tG
this supposition formed  a strange contrast to the constrained smile  to wilich he comprelled  his features vhbile
he uttere(l it.  With  such a smile a man  about to dirnik
poison might name a health, as lie pult the fatal ibeverage
to Iis lips.
" No, my lord-not married," answered the minstrel,
with an emphasis on thle word, which the Constable knrcw
how to interpret.'   o, no," lhe replied  quickly, " not, married, perhaps, but ellglgeol-troth-lillted.    Whellrelore  not?
The date of her old affialnce was out, w}ly nrot enter ilito
atev elw  gemen\nt?"
"'t'lie  Ilatv EF-elilne and  Sir Danmi;n de Iacy  are
not  fli;1'nc'ed tl tit I know\ ol"  ans\vered hls altl-ndant.''iiis rly di x  ov    e I:)e,.(!'s p)aztieln(ce to esxtretlity.
" L)o! dost  lonil trifle \vitli Il,?h" he exclilic.1 md:
",ile w'ie-lpit'li'ler, tllhou tortttrest t11e(.   Spea:.;k Ilte w(orstt,1 ic:, (01' I   ill  11'st-nly  nlake tli(he minlstrcl to tihe
I't3  hold  " Sol  I a.'
(  hl:t  an:.   rcnllkcttd did  the nmi-nstrcl reply, —'   The
t,;r.!.     e I'lh8e andl S1i  I )atlia,;re   either  1;;trrieid lrie
finti;al ed.   Ini,.   Tli n y hIaVetC love} d anl It  ll I l togethci.I"? s";'.; 1 h'    dol      id I,   av      to         ":.*}t   4   0'.i;',z;ilt,,n-iftifb i   v te   Sim I4tl.    ile clxa,  eraitd
brn l'( i';tk tI1ili \twiti hs xv1! ole  tiengi1. utt,'iat. as
ulat strungth,  as, it was ualllek tom stag-er Vidal, a pr.ac




tiafd v-xreflefr.'n 1i: Grl.     ra    hi'tr    ullcie, l  t ite Iod astnc-d.
atny n11 ore t  an  tAr 1 j  S t{   a XIi CV  t   Oult di stu'b  the coinI)Ost-'e ( i i'e Iilistie s    Itiin 2,.'
C'  onlless tlhou Ulast tied," said the Const-a3bie, releasing
hii11, atier tJ.,vini, cfle ( te:i b  his violeince no tr  eater de
fgreie of atitatioii than thie eXelxtion) of li huan l.or(,e pro
diuces tipn  tie t-oc iRot   Stol-es of thie Driuids, whlliclh ilia.
be shl:ken, indeted btut not displaced.
"Were a lie to buy rmy onxxn lile, yea, the lives of all my
tribe," said the mniunstrel, " i would not tell one.   BIIt
trutli itself is eieri terml-ed falsehood when it counteracts
tlhe t-ain of ouir pissiois."
" Hear l:im, Plhilip Guarine, hear him!" exclaimed
the Constable, turning hasti.y to his squire:  I" -ie tells,ne of my dis-g'ace —of thLe dishonour of my l:outse —ol
the depravity of tlose x"hoin i have loved the best in thle
vorld,-    e tells me of it with a calm  look, an eye cormposed, an unfaiterilg tongue.  Is this-can it be natural?
Is De Lac  sunk so low, tlhat his dishlonour slall be told
by a common strolling minstrel, as calmly as if it were a
tlhemne fobr a vain ballad?   Perhaps thou wilt make it
one, ha!"  as he concluded, darting a furious glance at
the minstrel.
I Perhaps I might, my lord," replied  the minstrel,
"were it not that I mIust record tlheein the d(isgrace of,renault Vidal, wvlo served a lord without either patience
to bear insults and wroigs, or spirit to revenge them  on
the authors of his shalame."
" Thou art right, thou art right, good fellow," said the
Constable hastily; "it is vengeance now alone which is
left us.-And yet upon whom!"
As he spoke, he walked shortly and hastily to ald fro ~
and, becoming suddenly silent, stood still and wrung his
hands with deep  emotion.
"I told thee," said the minstrel to Giuarine, " that aly
news would find a tendler part at last.  Dost thou reletn-e5er thle bull-fight we saw in Spain?-A thatlsand little
darts peirpl.xed'ind  arnn.yed  the noble animal, ere r'e




328         lALES OF THE CRUSADERS,
received the last deadly thrust from  the lance of tne
NMoorish cavalier."
" Man, or fiend, b1e wlich thou wilt," replied Gluarine
"that canst thus drink in with pleasure, and contenplate
at your ease, the misery of another, I bid thee beware
of me! Utter thy cold-blooded taunts in some ottler
ear; for if my tongue be blunt, I wear a sword that is
sharp enough."
" Thou hast seen me amonz swords," answered the
minstrel, " and knowest how little terror they have for
such as I am." Yet as he spoke he drew off from the
esquire.  He had, in fact, only addressed him in that sort
of fullness of heart, which would have vented itself in soliloquy if alone, and now poured itself out on the nearest
auditor, without the speaker being entirely conscious of
the sentiments which his speech excited.
Few minutes had elapsed before the Constable of
Chester had regained the calm external semblance with
which, until this last dreadful wound, he had borne hll the
inflictions of fortune.  He turned towards his followers,
and addressed the minstrel with his usual calmness.
"Thou art right, good fellow," he said, " in what thou
saidst to me but now, and I forgive thee the taunt which
accompanied thy good counsel.  Speak out, in God's
name! and speak to one prepared to endure the evil
which God hath sent him.  Certes, a good kniglht is best
known in battle, and a Christian in the time of trouble
and adversity."
The tone in which the Constable spoke, seemed to
produce a corresponding effect upon the deportment of
his followers.  The minstrel dropped at once the cynical
and audacious tone in which lie had hitherto seemed to
tamper with the passions of his master; and, in language
simple and respectfiul, and which even approaclled to
sympatllhy, informed him of thie evil news wliichl lie hlad
collected (tduring his absence.  it was ind(eed d(isastrous
The refusal of the Lady Eveline Berenger to admii
Nlo'nthermer and his forces. into her castle. had of courso
given circullation and credence to all the cazllumnies whiclh




TIEIA   l IETtOTIlr IDl             32 9
llad 11een circulated to her pirejuiice, and that of DamiaRI1 (te liacy; and tllere were minanly  viwho, tfor vanrio us
cattsles, were ilnterlested in splreadl ai- alit sulpl)oJ'tirlln  tllese
sla.ailers.   A lar.-re lorce lihad tieenl sellt ilt.o tile countiry
tO subdue tlhe ilS'L'gent IelSltS; anlid tihe kniglts and
nobles desl)atclled IOr tllat p)tlrp)OSe, Ihiil e not to avenge to
tlte utterllost, llpon thle wretchled plebeians, tile nobl
blood which  they hlad spilled  dluring their temporary
triumlph.
The followers of the unfortunate Wenlock were infected with the samne persuasion.  BIlaniled by imany for a
hasty and cowardly stl:'render of a post wh-llich tnilt hlave
beel  defended, tlle  endeavoured *to vind(icate thernselves
by alleging lthe lostile demonstrations of De Lacy's cavalry as the sole cause of tlleir prematntre submission.
These  ruiLmnouIrs, supported by such interested  testimnony, spread wide and far through tlle land, and, joined to the undenliable fact that Damian hi'ad souglht reftie
ill tile strong castle of Garde Doloureuse, which  was now
defending itself against the royal arms, animated the
numerous etinenies of the house of De Lac, anId d(rove
its vassals and friends almost to despair, as mnen reduced either to disown their feudal allegiance, or renounce
that still more sacred fealty which they owed to theii
sovereign.
At this crisis they received  intelligence that the wise
and active monarch by whorn the sceptre of England was
then swayed, was moving towards that part of England,
at the head of a large body of soldiers, fbr the purpose
at once of pressing the siege of the Garde Doloureuse,
and comp!eting the suppression of the insurrection ol
the p-asa,;try, which Guy Monthermner had nearly accunIplished.
In this emnerfren,"y, and when the friends and dlependants of' tile Ihoslt  if Lacy scarcely knew which hand  to
turn to, Randal, the Constable's kinsman, and, after Danmian. his heir, suddenly appeared amongst them, with a,'oyal commission to raise and command  such follo;vers
VOL. I.




f3~0          r TAL, ES OF TE I, CUSA, IJE:t,.
of 11t  fa -,i y as t- nl glt lnoit dc'.ire t1o ) e inv vol(-d iln ht i -
t}ce.'l |trt'i-sn  (of tlie (  ollstallt I s -'lel':ltle.   Ini  toi'(lrei i.l)le
ti)iite, I en(11 s viceM s    are  I,(,' t:en, tiov iled tl yt d (t') t ai'; dil'!
acti;;ty, (coiriagc, cand i)rilde('e, tlhe viltres liei ios't required; and tile lpp)c  alce of h.al'al,  x l.'.o'xvs Iy:, ne
ieans  elficient in awny of these attrilittcs, \as  receicved
as a goodl orniel by tle folloiwers of )lls (cusin.'   ey
quickly  gathered  around  lin, suirTenderied to tle royal
Iuandate sn!.li strong-lolds as thley I)ossessed, ltnd, to villdicate tihemselves fiom  any partic'pation in tle alleged
ciinmes of' Damian, tlhey distinguislled themselves, under
iandal's (commalnd, agoainst suclh sc'-ttered bodlies of' lPeasantry   as still kept the field, or lurked  in the Inountails
and passes; and conducted thermselves with stuch severity
after' success, as made tlle trooels eve(n  of Sionl:crtller
appear gentle and clement in comlparison  withi thlose ot
1)e Lacy.  Finally, with the banner of hlis ancient hlouse
displayed, and five htundred gtood men assembled under
it, Randal appeared before the Garde Doloureuse, and
joined Henry's camp there.
Trle castle was already lhardly pressed, and the few defenders, disabled by wounds, watclling, and privation, had
now  the  additional discouragement to  see  displayed
against their walls the only banner in England, tinder
which they had hoped  forces might be mustered  for
their aid.
The high-spirited entreaties of Eveline, unbent by adversity and want, gradually lost effect on the defenders
of the castle; and proposals for surrender were urged
and discussed by a tumultuary  council, into which not
only the inferior officers, but many of the con-.non mnen
had thrust themselves, as in a period of snch;geliral distress as unlooses all the bonds of discipla;:(1, and leaves
each man  at liberty to speak and:r.-.,  hlimself.  To
their surprise, in the midst of their di,.csia.onls, D)anmian
de Lacy, arisen from the sick-bed! rto wIich lie ha-d been
30o lolg confined, appeared among them-,  nale and feeble,
his cheek tinged with the gh-astly look tlvich is left by
l)ng illness —he leaned on his page A!nelot.'" Gentle




THE -BETPIOTHE[D.                  331
men." lie said, " and soldiers-yet why should I call
vou either?-(Gentleinen are ever ready to die in b)eliall
of a lalyl —-soldierli hold  life in scorn compared to thlei]
ll(nour.''
" Out upon him. out upon himn!" exclaimned   one
of the soldiers, interrupting him; " lhe would have us.
who are innocent, die the death of traitors, and be hanged in our armour over the walls, rather than part with
his leman."
" Peace, irreverent slave!" said Damian, in a voice
like thunder, " or my last /)low  shall be a mean one,
aimed against such a caitiff  as thou art.  And you," he
continued, addressing the rest,-" you, who are shrinking fromn tile toils of your profession, because if you
p)eisist in a course of' hlonour, death may close them
a few  years sooner tlian it needs must-you, whlo are
scared  like chlildren at the sight of a death's-head,
do not suppose that Damian de Lacy  would desi're
to shelter himself at the expense of those lives which
you hold so dear.  Make your bargain with King Henry.
Deliver lne up to his justice, or his severity; or, if you
like it better, strike my head from my body, and hurl it,
as a peace-offering, from  the walls of the castle.  To
God, in his good time, will I trust for the clearance of
mine honour.  In a word, surrender me, dead or alive,
or open the gates and permit inme to surrender myself.
Only as ye are men, since I may not say better of ye,
care at least for the safety of your mistress, and make
such terms as may secure HER safety, and save yourselves from  the disllonour of being held cowardly and
perjured caitiffs in your graves."'6 Methinks the youth speaks well and reasonably," said
Wilkin Flaminock.   " IJLet tus e'en make a grace of
surrendering hlis body up to the Kinrg, and assure thlerebIy such} ternms as we can for otirselves and( tle lady, ere
tile last morsel of olr provisiotn is consumlned."
"I would hlard:ly have proposed this mleasulre," said.
o0- ratlher  mumbledl, Father Aldirovand, Mwlo blad r.ceJntly
lost four of his friont teetih by a stone fi'omn a slign, —
v et, bleing so generomesi'v oufftrc- by the p)larty piincipally




32  I, I;    OF THE  CRUSADEItS.:olncerued, I hold with tile learned scholiast, Volent~ no-:
6t i Ot ia."
"PJ'iest and  Fleming,"  said  tile  old  banner-man,
[lalptl  Genvil, " I se(- low tile wind stilrretll )ou; but
)you deceive 3yourlselves it' you thlillk to lmaIke our you 1g
mlaster, Sir Damian, a scape-goat for your  liglit lady.Nay,  never frown  nor funme, Sir Damian; itf you know
1not your safest course, we know  it for you.-Followers
of De Lacy, thrlow yourselves on your horses, and two
mien on one if it be necessary-we will take this stubb)ornl boy in the midst of us, and the dainty squire Amelot s1hall be prisoner too, if lie trouble us with his peevish
oll)otsitiona.  Then let uts make a fair sally upon tl3e siegers.  Those who can cut their way throtughA willshiftwell
enoughl; those who fall, will be provided for."
A  slotut from  the  trooplers of Lacy's band approved
this l)ro!)osal.  Whilst thle followers of Berenger exposrulated in loud and  ailgry tone, Eveline, sutlnmoned by
tlie ttllnitlt, in vain endeavoured to appease it; and the
angier and entreaties of Damian Nwere equally lost on his
followers.  To each and either the answer was the same.' Have you no care of it —Because  you  love  par
anours, is it reasonable you should t11hrow away your litfe
and ours?"   So exclaimed Genvil to De Lacy; and in
softer language, but withl et11tal obstinacy, the followers of
Rlaymond Berenger refiusel on tlle present occasion to
listen to the commlandl  s or plrayers of hlis daugLllter.
Wilkill F'laninock lad retreated froin thle tumult when
lie saw thle turn which  matters h}ad taken.   lie left tilhe
castle Dby a sally-port, of wllich lie hlad  been entrusted
withl thie key, alnd iroceeded v\it}loult oservatio  or oe:Posit.ill to tle o!yalt ('all), \l here lie r(titieste(l acce0..s to
tile S,( ereign.'l' lis \a   eiasily (obaiic d,  nId WVilkin
sl)ee(lilv m ti)lndi Ilimlself in tlhe h)eselice of killg — Henrty.
T'l'he ulrclh x was inl lhis Ioval plavilion. altte d(it   l) i  xvo
of tii., Sis, Ii h:lil all d JoI(l, who)  a      nlw' (ils Swan(y'di
thet' lcel)tre o('    wi:t(l xvitlh very' (hihibrelt a1 tis)inces.
flow now?  \\ lat art thou?'' was thie o) al questio(.




THE BETROTHED.                   333
" An honest man, from the castle of the Garde Dolallreuse."
" Thou may'st be honest," replied the Sovereign, 1' but
thou comest firom a nest of traitors."
" Such a, they are, my lord, it is my purpose to put
thenl at your royal disposal; for they have no longer the
wisdom  to guide themselves, and lack alike prudence
to hold out, and grace to submit.  But I would first know
of your grace, to what terms you will admit the defenders
of yonder garrison!"'" To such as kings give to traitors," said Henry, sternIy-" sharp knives and tough cords."
"Nay, my gracious lord, you must be kinder than
that amounts to, if the castle is to be rendered by my
means; else will your cords and knives have only my
poor body to work upon, and you will be as far as ever
from the inside of the Garde Doloureuse."
The King looked at hlim fixedly.  "4 Thou knowest,"
ne said, " the law of arms.   Here, provost-marshal,
stands a traitor, and yonder stands a tree."
"' And here is a throat," said the stout-hearted Fleming, unbuttoning   the collar of his doublet.
" By mine honour," said Prince Richard, " a sturdy
and faithful yeoman!  It were better send such fellows
their dinner, and then buffet it out with them for the castie, than to starve them as the beggarly Frenchmen fainmishi their hounds."
P' Peace, Richard," said his father; " thy wit is over
green, and thy blood over hot, to make thee my counsellor heeie. —And you, knave, speak you some reasonable
terms, and we will not be over strict with thee.99
"5 First, thlen," said the Flemning, "I stipulate full and
firee pardon for life, limb, body, and goods, to me; Wilkin.Flalainnmock, and my dauglhter Rose."'
"' A true Fleming,"  said Prince John;' he takes
care of hilnself in the first instance."' His request," said the King " is reasonable. What
i:yxt 2"




334           TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Safety in life, honour, and land, for the demoiselle
Evelminre Berenrer.'
1 -low, sir 1knave," said the Kin-, angrily, "is it for
such as thou to dictate to our ju1igme -t or clemency rim
the case of a noble Norman lady? Confine thy mnediation
to such as thyself; or rather render us this castle without farther delay; and be assured thy doing so will be of
more service to the traitors within, than weeks mlore of
resistance, wllhich nmust and shall be bootless."
The Flemning stood silent, unwilling to surren3er without some specifice terms, yet half convinced, from  the
situation in which lihe had left the garrison of the Garde
Doloureuse, that his admitting the King's forces would be,
perhaps, the best le could do for Lady Eveline.
"1 like thy  fidelity, fellow," said the King, whose
acute eye perceived tle struggle in the Fleming's bosom;
"but carry not thy stubbornness too far.  Have we not
said we will be gracious to yonder offenders, as far as our
royal duty will permnit?"
"And, royal father," said Prince John, interposing, " I
pray you let me lhave tile grace to take first possession of
tihe Garde Doloureuse, and the wardship or forfeiture of
the offending lady.".I pray you also, my. royal father, to grant John's
boon," said his brother Richard, in a tone of mockery.
5' Consider, royal father, it is the first desire he hath
shown to approatch the barriers of the castle, thougbh we
lhave attacked them forty times at least.   Marry, crossbow and mangonel were btusy on the former occasions, and
it is like they will be silent now."
"Peace, Richard,"  said the King; "your words
ai tedat tl thy brother's honour, pierce my  heart!-John,
thou i}ast thy boon as concerns tl1e castle; h  tthis unha)py young lady, we wvill td e hier iln (11 own c. arge.Flemin, bow lnlmany melen wxilt tioun unldertae to adilit i?"
Ere  FlItltnockk could al n,-rver, ra sqtire atl;)roaclhed
Pri:nce Riciard, anr d wllsoem  in aIin ear, ye t So as to be
heard by all present, "We'le icoaver  dsed o  r   t1at sorme
internal disturbance, o(r other cause un!known, has with




]THE B E TR)TREI). g.             335
drawn m,,any of the warders from  the castle walls, and
tlhat a sudiden attatlk might —--
"C Dost thlou hear thlat, John?" exclaimed Richard.'Ladders, man —get ladders, and to the wall.  How  I
should deliflht to see thee on the highest round-thy knees
shlaking-thy  hands grasping convulsively, like those of
one in an ague fit —all air around thee, save a batoonor
two of wood —the moat below —half-a-dozen pikes at thy
throat    "
1" Peace, Richard, for shame, if not for charity," said
his father, in a tone of anger, mingled with grief.  " And
thou, John, get ready for the assault."
S' So soon as I have put on nmy armour, father," answersd the Prince, and withdrew  slowly, and with a visage
so blank as to promise no speed in his preparations.
His brother laughed as he retired, and said to his
squire,'; "t were no bad jest, Alberick, to carry the
place ere John can change his silk doublet for a steel one.
So saying, he hastily withdrew, and his faUther exclaimed in paternal distress, " Out, alas! as much too hot as
his brother is too cold;  but it is the manlier fault. —Gloucester," said he to tllat celebrated earl,'" take sufficient strength and follow Prince Richard, to guard and
sustain him.  If any one can rule him, it must be a knight
of thy established faime.  Alas, alas! for what sin have
I deserved the affliction of these cruel family feuds!"' Be comforted, my lord," said the chancellor, who
was also in attendance.'; Speak not of comfort to a father, whose sons are at
discord with each other, and agree only in their disobedience to him!'
Thbts spoke Henry the Second, than whom no wiser,
or, generally speakiingr, mnore fortunate n-onarch, ever sat
upon the throne of Enigland; yet wh-ose lif'e is a strikinlg
1liustra.tioLn, hox   tminy dissensions ca.l tarnish the most
brilliant lot to which heav en permits htumanity to aspire 
1an1d ihov'little gratified ambition, extended pow-er, and
thie tlio;hst'TepMlialii:),i ii w' and in >peace, can do towards
cauri..g the iw'oundls of dom-iestic aflilction.




3t(36        TAIS OF rTi.E ICRUSA DER.,
Thle sudden and fery attack of Richard, whllo hastened to
the escalade at the head of a score of' ollowvers, collected
at ranldorn, had the comtnlete effect of surlprise; and having
surlinotinted tile walls witll their ladders, before thle contentding parties  witli]n were almost aware of the assault, tlhe
assailants burst oplen the gates, and admitted Gloucester,
who had hastily followed with a strong body of men-atarlms.  The garrison, in thieir state of surprise, confusion,
and disunion, offered but little resistance, and would have
been put to the sword, and the place plundered, had not
Henry himself entered it, and by hlis personal exertions
and authority, restrained the excesses of the dissolute
soldiery.
The King conducted himself, considering the times and
the provocation, Nwith laudable imoderation.  He contented himself vith disarming and dismissing the commnon
soldiers, giving them some trifle to carry them out of the
couintlry, lest want slhould lead thIem  to form Ithemselves
into bands of robbers.  The officers were more severely
treated, being for the grcater part thrown into dulngeons,
to abide the course of the law.  In particular, imprisonment was tlhe lot of Damian de Lacy, against iwhorn,
believing the various charges with which he was loaded,
Henry x-as so highly incensed, that he purposed to make
him an exanmple to all false knights and disloyal subjects.
To the Lady Eveline Bereinger tie assigned her own
dparitmnent as a prison, in which   shle was lionourlably
attended by Rose and Alice, but guarded witth the utmrlost
strictness.  It was generally reported that her demesnes
would be declared a forfeiture to the crown, and bestowed, at least in part, upon Randal de Lacy, whlo had do(ne
good service dtriieg thle sie e. Her person, it was tllought,
was (eslined to the seclusion of some distant Frenlchl nulnncrv, wvliere she mnigsht at leisure repent her of  her tfllies
an( l er rashlness.
Father Aldrovand was delivered up to the disciplilne
rif his convent, long  experience having very eiffe:  mlly}
taug}ht Henry thie imnlprudence of iniringing on thle priv'ileges of the crhtirch; altholzh, llwhen the lt  ii g first b')ihe)ld
biinJl wihll a rulsty corsiet clasped over his frockF, lha wi-th




THE  BETROTTHED.                    8,37
d^l%:ity Irepressed the desire to cause ]inm be hanged over
th:  ba.tt:enlerlts. to prleacll to t!e  ravens.
~W<'it:, ~ilkinl Flam-lmock, HIe enry held nluch conference1
pajrctic:.larly on thle subject of manujfactures and coinmucr-c; on rwhich tle sou-nd-headed, thoughl blunt-spoken
Fleming,  was well qualificd to instruct an intelligent monarch.  " Thy intentions," he said, " shall not be forgotten, good fellow, though tlley  iave been anticipated by
the headlong valour of my son RIichard, which has cost
some poor caitiffs their lives —Richard loves not to sheath
a bloodless weapon.  But thou and thy countrymen shall
return to thy mills yonder, with a full pardon for past
ofetnces, so that you meddle no more with suchl treasonable mtatters."
" And our privileges and duties, my liege?"  said
Flarilock.  " Your Maiesty knows well we are vassals
to the lord of this castle, alnd must follow lim in battle."
It sliall no longer be so," said Henry'; "I will form
a community of Flemings here, and thou, Flanmnock,
shalt be Mayor, that thou may'st not plead feudal obedience for a relapse into treason."
" TI;'.:eason, my liege!" said Flammoclc, longing, yet
scarce venturing, to interpose a word in behalf of Lady
Eveline, for whom, despite thle constitutional coolness of
his tenlperamlent, lie really felt much interest-" I would
tlhat youlr grace but justly knew how many threads went
to thlart woof.:
" Peace, sirrah!-mneddle  with your loom,"  said
-Telry;   and it we deign to speak to thlee concerning
the Imeclianical arts wwhichl thou (lost pIroless, take it for
no warrant to intrtu(e falrtller on our:privacy."
Tlhe Fleitin- retired, relbukedl, anl ill silence; and tlte
fate of tlhe utlhapl)pV  priso!ers relinuined in thie King's
lbosr:):l.  He'-ill-self tlook Ilp) hlis lodgin:rg inl th!e castle of
tlde (Glr (le )olOluretlse,.as a co\uve:ienlt stlation tol' senllil m
ablroadt parties to s)lppress and exstingzish all tlihe ellers
otf rebecllion; anl so active was I andal de lacy on thlese
occasions, tllhat lie alppeared daily to rise in the Kiiig'
VOL. 1.




3`"3'TAIIES OF THIE  CI'USABDERS,
grace, and was gratified with considerable grants out of
the domains o.' Berenger and  Liacy, wvlich the King
seemed already to treat as forfeited property.  Aost rtien
considered this grosing favour of Randal as a perilous
omen, both for the' life of young De Lacy, and for the
late of the unfortunate Eveline.
CHAPTER XXX.
A vow, a vow — have a vow in heaven.
Shall I btring perjury upon my soul?
No, not for Vellice.
MferchJant of Venice.
THE conclusion of the last chapter contains the tidings
with which the minstrel greeted his unhappy master, Hugo
de Lacy; not indeed with the same detail of circumstances with which we have been able to invest the narrative,
but so as to infer the general and appalling facts, that his
betrothed bride, and beloved and trusted kinsman, had
leagued together for his dishonour-had raised the banner
of rebellion against their lawful sovereign, and, failing in
their audacious attempt, had brought the life of one of
them, at least, into the most imminent danger, and the
fortunes of the House of Lacy, unless some instant remedy could be found, to the very verge of ruin.
Vidal marked the countenance of his master as he
spoke, with the same keen observation which the chirurgeon gives to the progress of his dissecting knife.  There
w as grief on the Constable's features-deep grief-hut
witlhout the expression of abasement or prostration, which
usually accompanies it;  anger and shame were tlereout tlhey were both of a noble character, seern-ingly excited byhlis bride and nephew's transgressing tle laws of allegi,-ice, hlonour, -.nd virtue, rather than by the disgrace




THE BETROTHIED.                      33S
ond danamae  vwhich le loimselI sustained fhromobl l their'l'tie minstrel was so nch'l  staiiiised hit tthlis ehlanoe m
tl(l')l)i'tiielt, fioill tile sensitive acu'telness of a'ony xlwhichl
c    tor of           h     e
aiitended tile hegimnilw, of  ils narrative, tiat lie stclr)ed,ack tw'o paces, anld gaziing on tile CoistAtale wvithi woolldet, nixed witl Iadittilratiol, e xclaiiie(1,' We hlave heard
of m11rttyrs inl Palestine, Ibut llis exceeds tlheta"'  \Vollder lot SO nIllitt, hgood  friend,"  said tile Constable, p.tiently;'' it is the first hlow of thie lance ot mace
which i)ierces or stuns-those whlich fobllow are little felt."
hink, my lord,' said Vidal, " all is lost-love, dominion, high office, and briglit fimnle-so  late a chief
among nolbles-now a poolr palmer!"
" Wonldst thou make spIort with my misery?" said
Hlugo, sternly;  " but even tliat comes of course belhind
my back,  and why shiould it not be enduried  wile;i said
to mv fiace?-Know, then, minstrel, and put it in song, if
you list, that htugo de Lacy, having lost all lie carried to
Palestine, and all whicl he left at home, is still lord of
his own mind; and  adversity can no more shake himn
than the breeze which strips the oak of its leaves can
tear up ti e trunk by the roots.";' Now, by the tomb of my father," said the minstrel,
rapturously, " this man's nobleness is too much for my
resolve!"  and  stepping  hastily  to the Constable, he
kneeled on one knee, and caught his hand  more freely
thian the state maintained by men of De Lacy's rank
isually permitted.
"Here," said Vidal, " on this hand-this noble hand
-I renotnce    -"
But ere lie could utter another word, Hugo de Lacy,
who, perhaps, felt the freedom of the action as an intrusion onil hi3 fallen condition, pulled back his Ihanid, and
bid thle ninstirel, with a stern frown, arise, aild remnember
tltat ntisfbrtune made not De Lacy a fit personage for s.
mturnmery.
Renault Vidal rose rebuked.' I had foirgot," he said' the distance between an Armorican violer and a highb




340            TALES OF TILE  CRUSADERS*
Norman baron.  I tlhoulit thlat the same depth of sorros
thle salile bil.st of joy, levelled, fbo  a molinent at lIast
thlose artificial barrier's by w\licll Inel3 are divided.  t.t:1
it is well as it is.  Live within the lilits of yoair ni-nk, as
nieretofore witllin yolur don jon towel and  yur lfosses,  ly
lord, uniisturlbed by the symnliathy of any Ineian 1an like
me.  1, too, lhave my (lities to discllrge. "'" And now to the Ga-Crde Doloureuse," said tile ba on,
turninig to Philip  Guarine-"'  God klnowneth hoxw wel it
deserve th the name!-there to learn, wilh our ow-  n ec( S
and ears, the truth of these woful  tidings.   DisIontallt,
minstrel, and.give me thyl  paNlfrev-  I xwol, G, arine,
tlhat 1 liad one for thee-as for Vidal, hlis atten(latince is
less necessaryr.  I will face my foes, or wy 11isfitlluneS,
like a man-that be assured of;  violer; atnd look not so
sullen, knave-l  rwill not forget oldc adlerents."' One of them, at least, will not blrget you, my lord,"
replied the minstrel, with his usual dubious tone of look
alln emrnpltsis.
But just as the Constable was about to prick forwards,
two persons appeared   on thle patli, mounted on one hlorse,
who, hidden by) some dwa'rf-wood, hlad comle very near
them, withlout being  perceived.   Thley w-ere male and
female; and tile mall, whlo rode foremost, sWas suchl a
pi)ictllre of famine, as the eyes of tile plgrims IIhat scarce
witnlessed in all the wasted lands throughl  whicl tley liad
travelled.  His features, naturally sharp and thin, had disappeared almost entirely amnong the uncomlbed grey beard
and  hairs withl which  they were oversladlowed; and it
was but thle glimpse of a long nose, tlhat seemned as sharp
as th:e edge of a knife, and thle twinkling sparkle of his
grey eyes, whichl,ave any intimation of his lineaments.
htis leg, in the wide old boot wlhich inclosed it, looked
like tile hlandle of' a mop, left by charnce in a i)ailt-his
arlr-s were about the tlicklness of' riding-rods-anci srucl
p)ar'ts of' lis person as w\ere not concealed(l  by tile tlatters
of a I111:itsman's cassock, seemed ratlier the appendages
of a mummy than a live man.




THLFi BETROTII}D.                  341
The female who sat behind this spectre, exhibited alse
soime synlptoms of extenuation; but beillig a brave jolly
dame naturally, famine had not been able to render leli
a spectacle so ruefiil as the anatomy belhind wlhicli she
rode.  Dame Gillian's cheek (for it was the reader's old
acquaintance) had indeed lost the rosy hue of good chreer.
and the smootlness of complexion, which art and easy
living had formerly  substituted for the more delicate.
bloom  of youth; hler eyes were sunken, and had lost
much of their bold and roguish lustre; but she was still
in some measure herself, and the remnants of iormer
finery, together with the tighit-drawn scarlet hose, thotugh
sorely faded, showed still a remnant of coquettish preterlsion.
So soon as she came within sigllt of the pilgrilns, she
began to punchl Raoul with tile end of ther riding-rod.
"L Tr-y thy new trade, man, since thou art unfit for any
other-to the good men —to thlemr-crave tlleir charity."
B' 3eg from beggars?" —muittered Raoul; "that were
hawking  at sparrows, dalme."
I t will bring olr lhand in use thou-1gh,"  said Gillian;
and commenced, in a -lining, tone, " God love vonl, h1oly
men, whlo lhave had thle grace to go to the Holy Lancd,
and, xwhat is more,!lave had the grace to come back
again; I pray, bestow some of your almis u1ponl my poor
old llusband, who is a miserable of)bject, as you see, and
upon one who has the bad luck to be his wife —Heaven
help me!"
" Peace, woman, and hear what I have to say," said
the Constable, laying his hland upon the bridle of the
lorse —" I have present occasion for that horse, and —"
" By the hunting-lorn of St. Hubert, but tlhou gettest
him  not without blows!" answered the old ]hntunsman.
"A fine world it is, xvllen l)illlnels turn liorse-sten lers."
" Peace, fellow!" said tile Constable, sternly, —" I say
llave occasion preseitmly for tile service of tliy ihorse
Here be tiwo gold bezants for a day's use of the brute: i,
VOL. I.




342          TALESl OF TTImI  CRltUSAD, I.R
is well wortdi the  fee-siii dle of llirla, were lie nevtr re.
" BIllt tle palfi'ey is at, old( a cqltailntancce, Imaster," said
Raoult; "  t:idt if pterchlltl('t," —'" (utt  lupon' -and pier(1aitice bohl,"' said the dame,
rivili lier hlusbanid so deterticilmecd a tlir.lst;s   ell nitigh
pulslhed hlim ouit of the stiddle.' (Offi tlie lorse! alnd
thlaik G(od and tlils wortliy ililll mfor the help hle hlas sent
us in extremnity.   \hllat signifies tlle lptlf{:y, wlhenl w-e
Ilave not enough to get li(od either  lr` ti  lie  or ourselves? not tllougtlhl  e would eat grass and corn w-itlh 1hin,
like King Somnebody, whom the good father used to read
us to sleep about."
"A t ruce with your prating, dame," said Raoul, offering his assistance to help her fi'on the croup p; but she
preferred that of Guarine, who, tloutllh advancel in years,
retained the advantage of his stout soldierly figure.
" I hurmbly thank your goodness," said she,as,( having
first kissed hler,)the squire set her on the ground.  "And,
priay, sir, are ye come from tile Ioly Land?-Heard ye
any tidings there of him that was Constable of Chiester?"
i)e Lacy, who was engaged in removitng the pillion
from behind the saddle, stopped short in his task, and said,
" Ha, dame! what would you with him?"
"' A great deal, good palmer, an I could light on him;
for his lands and offices are all to be given, it's like, to
that false thief, his kinsman."
"What!-to Damian  his nephew?"  exclaimed the
Constable, in a harsh and hasty tone.
"Lord, how you startle me, sir!" said Gillian; then
continued, turning to Philip Guarine, "-Your friend is a
hasty man, belike."
"' It is the fault af the sun he has lived under so long,"
said the squire; "but look you  answer his questions
trulyv, and lhe will make it tile letter for vol."
Gillian inlstantly took tile hint.  "C pWas it Damian de
Lacy you asked after?-Alas! poor youtng gentleman!
no offices or lands for him-more likely to have a gallowscast, pow' lad-and all for nought, as I am  a true dame




'liHE BETROTHED.                3:3
Damian!- no, no, it is not Damian, nor damson neither
-but Randal Lacy, that must ulile the roast, and have
all tile old n-an's lands, and livings, and lordships."
" What?" said the Constable-" —  before they know
whether the old man is dead or no?-Methinks that were
against law anld reason both."
" Ay, but Randal Lacy has brought about less likely
matters.  Look you, he hath sworn to the King that they
have true tidings of the Constable's death-ay, and let
him alone to make them soothfast enough, if the Constable were once within his danger."
" Indeed!" said the Constable.  "But you are forging tales on a noble gentlemaur. Come, come, dame, you
say this because you like not Randal Lacy."
" Like him not!-And what reason have I to like him, I
trow?" answered Gillian.   " Is it because he seduced
my simplicity to let him into the castle of the Garde
Doloureuse,-ay, oftener than once or twice either,when he was disguised as a pedlar, and told him all the
secrets of the family, and how the boy Damian, and the
girl Eveline, were dying of love with each other, but had
not courage to say a word of it, for fear of the Constable,
though he were a thousand miles off? —You seem concerned, worthy sir-may I offer your reverend worship a
trifling sup friom my bottle, which is sovereign for tremor
cordis and fits of the spleen?"
"' No, no," ejaculated De Lacy —-  I was but grieved
with the shooting of an old wound. But, dame, I warrant me this Damian and Eveline, as you call them, became better, closer friends, in time?"
" They! —4lot they indeed, poor simpletons!" answered the dame; " they wanted some wise counsellor to go
betwecn and advise them. For look you, sir, if old Hugo
be dead, as is most like, it were more natural that his bride.
and his nephew should inherit his lands, than this same
Randal, who is but a distant kinsman and a forsworn caitiff
to boot. —Would you think it, reverend pilgrim, after the
mountains of gd.d he promised me?-When the castle
was taken and he saw I could serve him no more, he call.
r9>)l




844        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
ed me old beldame, and spoke of tile beadle and the
cucklng-stool. —Yes, reverend sir, old beldame and cucking-stool were his best words, when he knew I had no
one to take my part, save old Raoul, who cannot take
his own.  But if grim old Hugh bring back his weatherbeaten carcass from Palestine, and have but half the devil
in him which he had when he was fool enough to go away,
Saint Mary, but I will do his kinsman's office to him!"
There was a pause when she had done speaking.
" Thou say'st," at length exclaimed the Constable,
"that Damian de Lacy and Eveline love each other, yet
are unconscious of guilt, or falsehood, or ingratitude to
me-I would say, to their relative in Palestine?"
"Love, sir!-in troth and so it is-they do love each
other," said Gillian; " but it is like angels-or like lambs
-or like fools, if you will; for they would never so
much as have spoken together, but for a prank of that
same Randal Lacy's."
" How!" demanded the Constable-" a prank of
Randal's?-What motive had he that -these two should
meet?"
"Nay, their meeting was none of his seeking; but he
had formed a plan to carry off the Lady Eveline himself, for he was a wild rover, this same Randal; and so
he came disguised as a merchant of falcons, and trained
out my old stupid Raoul, and the Lady Eveline, and all
of us, as if to have an hour's mirth in hawking at the heron.
But he had a band of Welch kites in readiness to pounce
upon us; and but for the sudden making in of Damian to
our rescue, it is undescribable to think what might have
come of us; and Damian being hurt in the onslaught, was
carried to the Garde Doloureuse in mere necessity; and
but to save his life, it is my belief my lady would never
have asked him to cross the draw-bridge, even if he had
offered."
"Woman," said the Constable, "think what thot
say st! If thlo  hast done evil in these matters hereto.
fore as I suspect from thine own story, think not to put i1




THE BETROTHED.                 345
right by a train of new falsehoods, merely from spite at
missing thy reward."
"Palmer," said old Raoul, with his bioken-toned
voice, cracked by many a hollo, " I am wont to leave
thie business of tale-bearing to my wife Gillian, who will
tongue-pad it with any shrew in Christendom.  But thou
speak'st like one having some interest in these matters, and
therefore, I will tell thee plainly, that although this woman
has published her own shame in avowing her correspondence with that same Randal Lacy; yet what she has said is
true as the gospel; and, were it my last word, I would
say that Damian and the Lady Eveline are innocent of
all treason and all dishonesty, as is the babe unborn.But what avails what the like of us say, who are even
driven to the very begging for mere support, after having
lived at a good house, and in a good lord's serviceblessing be with him!"'" But hark you," continued the Constable, " ate there
left no ancient servants of the house, that could speak
out as well as you?"
"' HumIph!" answered the huntsman-" men are not
willing to babble when Randal Lacy is cracking his thong
above their heads.  Many are slain, or starved to death
-some disposed of —some spirited away. But there are
the weaver Flaemnock and his daughter Rose, who know
as much of the matter as we do."
"' What!-Wilkin Flammock, the stout Netherlander?"
said the Constable; " he and his blunt but true daughter
Rose?-I will venture my life on their faith.  Where
dwell they? —What has been their lot amidst these
changes?"
"And in God's name, who are you that ask these questions?" said Dame Gillian.  "Husband, husband —we
have been too fi'ee; there is something in that look and
that tone which I should remember."
" Yes, look at me more fixedly," said the Constable
throwing back the hood which had hitherto in a great degree obscured his features.




346         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"On your knees-on your knees, Raoul!" exclai..ned
Gillian, dropping on her own at the same time;'.' it is
the Constable himself, and he has heard me call him old
Hulrh!"
" It is all thIt is left of him who was the Constable, at
least," replied De Lacy; "and old Hugh willingly forgives your freedom, in consideration of your good news.
VWhere are Flarmmock and his daughter?"
" Rose is with the Lady Eveline," said Dame Gillian;
" her ladyship, belike, chose her for her bower-woman in
place of me, although Rose was never fit to attire so
much as a Dutch doll."
"The faithful girl!" said the Constable.    An'r
where is Flamrmock?"
" Oh, for him, he has pardon and favour from the King,"
said Raoul; " and is at his own house, with his rabble of
weavers, close beside the Battle-bridge, as they now call
tihe place where your lordship quelled the WVelch."
" Thither will I then," said the Constable; "andwill
then see what welcome King Henry of Anjou has for
an old servant.  You two must accompany me."
"My lord," said Gillian, with hesitation, " you know
poor folk are little thanked for interference with great
Inen's affairs. I trust your lordship will be able to protect us if we speak the truth; and that you will not look
back with displeasure on what I did, acting for the best."
" Peace, dame, with a wanion to you!" said Raoul.
" Will you think of your own old sinful carcass, when
you should be saving your sweet young mistress from
shame and oppression?-And for thy ill tongue, and
worse practices, his lordship knows they are bred in the
bone of thee."
" Peace, good fellow!" said the Constable; "we
will not look back on thy wife's errors, and your fidelity
shall be rewarded.-For you, my faithful followers," he
said, turning towards Guarine and Vidal, " when De
Lacy shall receive his rights, of which he doubts nothing,
his first wish shall be: to reward your fidelity."




THE  BETROTHED..347
"_ Mine, such as it is, has been, and shall be its own reward," said Vidal.  "I will not accept favouLrs firom himn
in prosperity, who, in adversity, refused me his hand-our
account stands yet open."
" Go to, thou art a fool; but thy profession hath a
privilege to be humorous,"  said the Constable, whose
weather-beaten and homely features looked even handsome, when animated by gratitude to Heaven and benevolence towards mankind.  " We will meet," he said, " at
Battle-bridge, an hour before vespers-I shall have much
achieved before that time."
" The space is short,"  said his esquire.
" I won a bat-ie in yet shorter," replied the Constable.
In whichll, said the minstrel, "; many a man has died
that thought himself well assured of life and victory."
" Even so shall my dangerous cousin Randal find his
schemes of ambition blighted," answered the Constable;
and rode forwards, accompanied by Raoul and his wife
who had remounted their palfrey, while the minstrel and
squire followed a-foot, and, of course, much more slowly
CHAPTER XXXI.
Oh, fear not, fear not, good Ilord John,
That I would you betray,
Or sue requital for a debt,
Which nature cannot pay.
"Bear witness, all ye sacred powers —
Ye lights that'gin to shineThis night shall prove the sacred tie
That binds your faith a(nd mine."
Ancient Scottish Ballad.
LE'T behind by their master, the two dependants of
Hugh de Lacy marched on in stllen silence, like men wlho
dislike and distrust each otlher, though bound to  olne




348         TALES OF THE CRUSADERg.
common service, and partners, therefore, in the same
hopes and fears.  The dislike, indeed, was chiefly upon
Guarine's side; for nothing could be more indiff-erent ta
Renault V idal than was his companion, farther than as he
was conscious that Philip loved him not, and was not unlikely, so far as lay in his power, to thwart some plans
which lie had nearly at heart.  He took little notice of
his companion, but hummed over to himself, as for the
exercise of his memory, romances and songs, many of
which were composed in languages which Guarine, who
had only an ear for his native Norman, did not understand.
They had proceeded together in this sullen manner for nearly two hours, when they were met by a groom
on horseback, leading a saddled palfrey.  " Pilgrims,"
said tile man, after looking at them with some attention,
"6 which of you is called Philip Guarine?"
" I, for fault of a better," said the esquire, " reply
to that name."
" Thy lord, in that case, commends him to you," said
the groom; "; and sends you this token, by which you
shall know that I am his true messenger."
He showed the esquire a rosary, which Philip instantly
recognized as that used by the Constable.
" I acknowledge the token," he said, 1"speak my
master's pleasure.'
"i He bids me say," replied the rider, " that his visit
thrives as well as is possible, and that this very evening,
by time that the sun sets, lie will be possessed of his
own.  He desires, therefore, you will mount this palfrey,
and come with me to the Garde Doloureuse, as your presence will be wanted there."
"It is well, and I obey him," said the esquire. much
pleased with the import of the message, asnd not (lissatisfied at being separated fiom his travelling companion
" And what charge for me?" said the minstrel, addressing the messenger.




TIHE  BETROTHED.                 349
6 If you, as I guess, are the minstrel, Renault VlJaJ.
Jou are to abide your master at the Battle-bridge, ac-.'ording to the charge formerly given."
" I will meet him, as in duty bound," was Vidal's answer; and scarce was it uttered, ere the two horsemen,
turning their backs on him, rode briskly forward, and
were speedily out of sight.
It was now four hours past noon, and the sun was declining, yet there was more than three hours' space to
the time of' rendezvous, and the distance from the place
did not now exceed four miles.  Vidal, therefore, either
for the sake of rest or reflection, withdrew  firom  the
path into a thicket on the left hand, from which gushed
the waters of a streamlet, fed by a small fountain that
bubbled up amongst the trees.  Here the traveller sat
himself down, and with an air which seemed unconscious
of what he was doing, bent his eye on the little sparkling
font for more than half an hour, without change of posture; so that he might, in Pagan times, have represented the statue of a water-god bending over his urn, and
attentive only to the supplies which it was pouring forth.
At length, however, he seemed to recall himself from
this state of deep abstraction, drew himself up, and took
some coarse food from his pilgrim's scrip, as if suddenly
reminded that life is not supported svithout means.  But
he lhad probably something at his heart which afiected
his threoat or appetite.  After a vain attempt to swallow
a morsel, lie threw it from him in disgust, and applied
hiim  to a small flask, in which he had some wine or
other liquor.  But seemingly this also turned distasteful,
for he threw fi'om him both scrip and bottle, amnd, bending down to the spring, drank deeply of the pure elenment,
bathed in it his hands and face, and arising fonom  the
fountain apparently refreshed, moved slowly on his way,
singing as he went, but in a low and saddened tone,
wild fragments of ancient poetry, in a tongue equally
ancient.
16  VOL. I




350           TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
Journeying on in this melancholy manner, he at lengtl,
came in sight of the Battle-bridge; near to vh:.ch arose,
in proud and gloomy strength, the celebrated  castle of
the Garde Doloureuse.  " Here, then," he said —" here,
then, I am  to await the proud De Lacy.  Be it so, in
God's name!-he shall know me better ere we part."
So saying, he strode, with long and resolved steps,
across the bridge, and ascending a mound which arose
on the opposite side at some distance, he gazed for a
time upon the scene beneathl-the beautiful river, rich
with the reflected tints of the western sky-the trees,
which were already brightened to the eye, and saddened to the fancy, with the hue of autumn —and the darksorne walls and towers of the feudal castle, fiom  which,
at times, flashed a glinmpse of splendour, as some sentinel's arms caught and gave back a transient ray of the
setting sun.
The countenance of the minstrel, which had hitherto
been dark and troubled, seemed softened by the quiet of
the scene.  He threw loose his pilgrim's dress, yet suffering part of its dark fblds to hang around  him  mantlewise; under which appeared his minstrel's tabard.  He
took from his side a rote, and striking, froml time to time, a
Welch descant, sung at others a lay, of which we canl offer
only a few fragments, literally translated fiomn the ancient
language in which they were chanted, preonising that they
ae in that excursive symbolical style of poetry, which
raliessin, Llewarch Hen, and other bards, had  deiived
perhaps from the time of the Druids.
" I asked of my harp,' ~Who hath injured thy chords?'
And she rep)ied,' The craoked finger, which I mocked in my tunle 
A blade of silver may be bended-a blade of steel abidethKindness fadeth away, but vengeance endureth.'I'he sweet taste of mead passet!l' from tllhe lips,
But they are long corroded by the juice of worlomwood;
The lamb is brought to the shambles, but the vwolf ratloeth the Itrotltan;
Kindness fadeth away, but vengeance endureth.




T'i i E  BETrROTHED.                     35 
"I asked the red-hot iron, when it glimmered on the anvil,:Wherefbre glowest thou longer than the fire-brand?''
I was born in the dark mine, and the brand in the pleasant grecnwood.'
Kindness fadeth away, but venlgeance endureth.
"I asked the green oak of the assembly, wherefore its boughs were dry
and seared like the horns of the stag?
And it showed me that a small worm had gnawed its roots.'Ihe boy who remembered the scourge, undid the wicket of the castle at
mid(night.
Kindness fiadeth away, but vengeance endureth.
"     Iitling destroyeth temples, though their spires pierce the clouds;
Storms (lestroy armadas, though their sails intercept the gale.
Hie that is in his glory falleth, and that by a contemptible enemy.
Kindness fadleth away, but vengeance endureth."
kMore of the same  vwild images were thrown out, each
oearino  some analogy, however fanciful and  remote, to
the theme, which  occurred  like a chorus at the close
of' each  stanza; so that the  poetry resembled  a piece
of  iusic, wwhich, after repeated excursions through fancifill variations, returns ever and  anon  to  the  simple
melody whlich is the subject of ornament.
As the mtinstrel sllng, his eyes were fixed on the bridcge
anld its vicinity; but when, near  the  close of his chant,
he raised up) his eyes towards the  distant towers of the
Garde  D)olouretlse, lie saw  that the gates were opened.
and that there was a tllustering of gtuards and  attendants
withouLt the  barriers, as if some  expedition were  about
to set forth, or somne person of illn)ortance to appear on
the scene.   At the same time, glancing his eyes around,
he discovered  that the  landscape, so  solitary  when he
first took his seat on the grey stone from  which lie overlooked it, was nowbecoining filled with fig,ures.
During his reverie, several persons, solitary and in
groups, men, women, and children, had begun to assemble themselves on both sides of the river, aid were loitering there, as if expecting some  spectacle.   There  wvas
also muth bustling at the Flemings' mills, whic, thougli
at some  distance, vwere  also cotmpletely ulndel k's eye.
A. procession seemed to he arranging itself' tlere  wVhicL




2  TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
soon began to move forward, with pipe and tabour, and
various other instruments of music, and soon approached, ill regular order, the place where Vidal was, seated
It appeared the business in hand was of a pacific clhar
acter; for the grey-bearded old men of the little settlement, in their discent russet gowns, came first after the
rustic band of music, walking in ranks of three and three,
supported by their staves, and regulating the motion of
the whole procession by their sober and staid pace. After
these fathers of the settlement came Wilkin Flammock,
ncounted on his'mighty war-horse, and in complete armour, save his head, like a vassal prepared to do military
service for his lord.  After him  followed, and in battle
rank, the flower of the little colony, consisting of thirty
men, eveil armed and appointed, whose steady march, as
well as their clean and glittering armour, showed steadiness and discipline, although they lacked alike the fiery
glance of the French soldiery, or the look of dogged
defiance which characterized the English, or the wild
ecstatic impetuosity of eye which then distinguished the
Welch. The mothers and the maidens of the colony
came next; then followed the children, with faces as
chubby, and features as serious, and steps as grave, as
their parents; and last, as a rear-guard, came the youths
from tourteen to twenty, armed with light lances, bows,
and similar weapons becoming their age.
This procession  wheeled  around  the base of the
mound or embankment on which the minstrel was seated; crossed the bridge with the same slow  and regular
pace, and formed themselves into a double line, facing
inwards, as if to receive some person of consequence,
or witness some ceremonial.  Flarnmock remained at
the extremnity of the avenue thus formed by his countrymen, and quietly, yet earnestly, engagea in making arrangements and preparations.
In the meanwhile, stragglers of different countries began to drax tozether, apparently brought there by mete
curiosity, and formed a motley  assemblage at the farthev
end of tile bride, wllich wvas that nearest to the. castle.




THE B ETROVTHI)';.                35i
Irwo English  peasants passed very. near the stone ca
which Vidal sat.-" Wilt thou sing us a song, minstrel,"
said one of therm, " and here is a tester for thee?" throwing into his h-at a small silver coin.' I am under a vow," answered the minstrel, " and
mlay not practise the gay science at present."
" Or you are too proud to play to English churls,"
said the elder peasant, " for thy tongue smacks of the
1 orrnan.'6 Keep tlle coin, nevertheless," said the younger inan
"' Let the palmer have wvhat the minstrel refuses to earn."'
" I pray you reserve your bounty, kind friend," said
Vidal, 6 I need it not;-and tell me of your kindness,
instead, what matters are going forward here."
"' Why, know you not that we have got our Constable de iLacy again, and that he is to grant solemn investiture to the Flemish weavers of all these fine things
Harry of Anjou has given?-Had  Edward the Confessor been alive, to give the Netherland knaves tlheir
guerdon, it would have been a cast of the gallows-tree.
But come, neighlboul,  e shall lose the show."
So saying, they pressed down the hill.
Vidal fixed his eyes on the gates of the distant castle;
and tie remote waving of banners, and mustering of men
on horseback, thougIh imperfectly seen at such a distance,
apprized hiim that one of' note was about to set fort,. at
the head of a considerable train of military attendants.
Distant flourishles of trumpets, which came faintly yet
distinctly on his ear, seemed to attest the sanle.  Presently he perceived, by the du(st which began to arise in columns betwixt the castle and the bridge, as xwell as by
the nearer sound of the clarions, that the troop was advancin- towards him in procession.
Vidal, on his own part, seemed as if irresolute whether
to re~.ain his present position, where lie commanded a t'ull
but rnemote view of the whole scene, or to obtain a nearer
but more partial one, by involving himself in the crowd
which noIv closed around on either hand oc thie bridge,
VOL. 1.




354         TALES OF THE  CRUSADERSunless where the avenue was kept open by the armed
and arrayed Flemings.
A monk next hurried past Vidal, and on his inquiring
as formerly thE cause of the assembly, answered, in a
muttering tone, froin beneath his hood, that it was the
Constable de Lacy, who, as the first act of his authority,
was then and there to deliver to the Flemings a royal
charter of their immunities.
"He is in haste to exercise his authority, methinks,"
said the minstrel.'l He that has just gotten a sword is impatient to draw
it," replied the monk, who added more which the minstrel understood imperfectly; for Father Aldrovand had
not recovered the injury whichll he had received during,
the siege.
Vidal, however, understood him to say, that he was
to meet the Constable there, to beg his favourable intercession.
" I also will meet him,"  said Renault Vidal, rising
suddenly from the stone which he occupied.
" Follow me, then," mumbled the priest; 6 the Flemings know me, and will let me forward.'
But Father Aldrovand being in disgrace, his influence
was not so potent as he had flattered himself, and both
he and the minstrel were jostled to and fio in the crowd,
and separated from each other.
Vidal, however, was recognized by the English peasants who had before spoke to him.  " Canst thou do any
jugglers' feats, minstrel?" said one.  " Thou may'st
earn a fair largess, for our Norman masters love jonz/erie."
"I know but one," said Vidal, " and I wil show it,
if you will yield me some room."
They crowded a little off from  him, t'nd gave him
time to throw aside his bonnet, bare his iegs and knees,
by stripping off the leathern buskins which swathed theman2d retain'ng only his sandals.  He then tied a party-coloured liar: kerchief around his swarthy and sun-burned




THE BETROTHED                     5'3A
hair, and casting off his upper doublet, showed hiq
brawny and nervous arms, naked to the shoulder.
But while he amused those immediately about him
with these preparations, a commnotion and rush arnong
the crowd, together with the close sound of trumpets,
answered by all the Flemish instruments of music, as
well as the shouts in Norman and English, of " Long
live the gallant Constable! —Our Lady for the bold De,
LTacy!" announced that the Constable was close at hand.
Vidal made incredible exertions to approach the leader
of the procession, whose morion, distilguished by its lofty
plumes, and right hand holding his trunchleon or leadingstafF, was all lie could see, on account of the crowd of
officers and armed men around him.  At length his
exertions prevailed, and he came within three yards of
the Constable, who was then in a small circle which had
been with difficulty kept clear for the purpose of the ceremonial of the day.  His back Gwaas towards the minstrel,
and lie was in the act of' bending from  his horse to deliver the royal charter to Wilkin Flanirnock, who had knelt
on one knee to receive it the more reverentially.  His
discharge of this duty occasioned the ConstabJe to stoop
so low that his plume seemed in the act of mixing with
the flowing mane of his noble charger.  At this moment,
Vidal threw himself, with singular agility, over the heads
of the Flemings who guarded the circle; and, ere an
eye could twinkle, his right knee was on the croup of
the Constable's horse-the grasp of his left hand on the
collar of De Lacy's buff-coat; then, clinging to his prey
like a tiger after its leap, lie drew, in the same instant of
time, a short, sharp dagger-and buried it in the back of
the neck, just where the spine, which was severed by
the stroke, serves to convey to the trunk of the human
body the mysterious influences of the brain. The blow
was struck with the utmost accuracy of aim and strength
of arm.: The unhappy horseman dropped from his saddle, without groan or struggle, like a bull in the amphitheatre under the steel of the tauridor; and in the same




356         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
saddle sat his murderer, brandishing the bloody ponit.d,
and urging tile horse to speed.
There was indeed a possibility of his having achieved
his escape, so much were those around paralyzed for thje
moment by the suddenness and audacity of the enterprize; but Flammock's presence of mind did not forsake
iim —he seized the horse by the bridle, and, aided by
those who wanted but an example, made the rider prisoner, bound his arms, and called aloud that he must be
carried before King Henry.  This proposal, uttered in
Flammn-ock's strong and decided tone of voice, silenced
a thousand wild cries of murder and treason, which had
arisen while the different and hostile natives, of which
the crowd was composed, threw upon each other reciprocally the charge of treachery.
All the streams, however, now assembled in one channel, and poured with unanimous assent towards tile Garde
Doloureuse, excepting a few of the murdered nobelenann's
train, who remained to transport their master's body, in
decent solemnity of mourning, from  the spot which he
had souglt vwith so much pomp and triumph.
XWhen Flammock reached the Garde Doloureuse, h(
was readily admitted with his prisoner, and with suc)I
witnesses as he had selected to prove the execution of
the crime.  To his request of an audience, he was answered, that the King had commanded that none should
be admitted to him for some time; yet so singular were
the tidings of the Constable's slaughter, that the Captain of the guard ventured to interrupt Henry's privacy,
in order to communicate that event; and returned with
orders that Flammock and his prisoner should be instantly admitted to the royal apartment.   Here they found
Henry, attended by several persons, who stood respectfully behind the royal seat, in a darkened part of the
room.
When Flammock entered, his large bulk and massive
linibs were strangely contrasted with cheeks pale with:
horror at what 1he had just witnessed, and with awe al
6nding hlirmself in the royal presence chamber.  Beside




THE BIETROTHEID.       o       3O
hllm stood his prisoner, undaunted by the sitation in
which he was placed.  The blood of his victitl, which
had spirted from  the wound, was visible on his bare
limbs and his scanty garments; but particularly upon
his brow, and the handkerchief with which it was bound
Henry gazed on him  with a stern look, which the
other not only endured without dismay, but seemed to
return with a fiown of defiance.
"Does no one know this caitiff?" said Henry, looking
around him.
There was no immediate answer, until Philip Guarine, stepping from the group which stood behind the royal
chair, said, though with hesitation, " So please you, my
liege, but for the strange guise in which he is now arrayed, I should say there was a household minstrel of my
master, by name Renault Vidal."
" Thou art deceived, Norman," replied the minstrel;
my menial place and base lineage were but assumed
-I am Cadwallon the Briton-Cadwallon of the Nine
Lays —Cadwallon, the chief bard of Gwenwyn of Powisland-and his avenger!"
As he uttered the last word, his looks encountered
those of a palmer, wsho had gradually advanced from
the recess in which the attendants were stationed, and
now confronted him.
The Welchman's eyes looked so eagerly ghastly as
if flying from their sockets, while he exclaimed, in a
tone of surprise, mingled with horror, " Do the dead
come befbre monarchs?-Or, if thou art alive, whom
have I slain?-I dreamed not, surely, of that bound, and
rf that home blow?-yet my victim  stands before me [
Have I not slain the Constable of Chester?"
" Thou hast indeed slain the Constable," answered the
King; " but know, Welchman, it was Randal de Lacy,
on whom that charge was this morning conferred, by our
belief of our loyal and faithful Hnugh de Lacy's having
been lost upon his return from the Holy Land, as the
vessel in which he had taken passage was reported tc
halve suffered shipvwreck.  Thou hast cut sllhort Randal",




3 5;        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
brief elevation hut by a few hours; for to-morl-w's sur
would have again seen him without land or lordship."
The prisoner dropped his head on his bosom in evident despair.  " I thought,"'he murmured, " that he
had changed his slough, and come forth so glorious all
too soon.  May the eyes drop out that were cheated
with those baubles, a plumed cap and a lacquered baton!"
1 I will take care, Welchman, thine eyes cheat thee
not again," said the King, sternly; " before the night
is an hour older, they shall be closed on all that is earthly."
"6 tMay I request of your nobleness," said the Cons able, " that you will permit me to ask the unhappy man
a few questions?"
"' When I have demanded of him  myself," said the
King, "why he has dipt his hands in the blood of a noX e Norman."
"' Because he at whom I aimed my blow," said the
Biiton, his eye glancing fiercely from  the King to De
Lacy, and back, " had spilled the blood of the descendant of a thousand kings; to which his own gore, or thine,
proud Count of Anjou, is but as the puddle of the highwav to the silver fountain."
Henry's eye menaced the audacious speaker; but the
F ing reined in his wrath when he beheld the imploring
look of his servant. -" What would'st thou ask of him?"
lie said; "be brief, for his time is short."
" So please you, my liege, I would but demand wherefore lie has for years forborne to take the life he aimed
at, when it was in his power-nay, when it must have
been lost but for his seemingly faithful service?"
" Norman," said Cadwallon, " I will answer thee.
When I first took upon me thy service, it was well my
purpose to have slain thee that night.  There stanrd
the man," pointing to Philip Guarine, "to whose vigilance thou owcd'st thy safety."'" Indeed," said De Lacy, " I lo remember some
indications of such a purpose; but why didst thou forego
it, when following opportunities put it in thy power?"




THE  BETROTHED.                   359
When the slayer of my Sovereign  becamne God's
soldier," answered Cadwallon, "and served his cause in
cPalestine, he was safe fiomn my earthly vengeance."
"A wonderful forbearance on the part of a Welch assassin!" said the King, scornfully.
"Ay," answered Cadwallon; "and which certain
Christian princes have scarce attained to, who have never
neglected the chance of pillage or conquest afforded by
the absence of a rival in the Holy Crusade."
"Now, by the Holy Rood-"  said  Henry, on the
point of bursting out, for the insult affected him  peculiarly; but, suddenly stopping, he said, with an air ol
contempt, " To the gallows with the knave!"
"' But one other question," said De Lacy, " Renault, or
by whatever name thou art called. Ever since my return
thou hast rendered me service inconsistent with thy stern
resolution upon my life-thou didst aid me in my shipwreck —and didst guide me safely through Wales, where
my name would have insured my death; and all this after
the crusade was accomplished?"
"I could explain thy doubt," said the bard, " but that it
might be thought I was pleading for my life."
" Hesitate not for that," said the King; "for were our
Holy Father to intercede for thee, his prayer were in vain."'
" Well, then,"  said tile  bard, " know  tile truthl-I
was too proud to permit either wave or Welclhnan to
slhare in my revenge.   Know  also, what is perhaps
Caidwallon's weakness —use  and habit had divided  my
feeliings towards  De  Lacy, between aversion  and admiriation.  I still contemphlated my revenlge,'iut as sometlhiing which I miglt never compllete, and whltic  seemed
ralher atn image in thle clouds, than an object to wliich
I must one day dra.v near.  And when I beheld thee,"
lhe said, t I;'-~: to De Lacy, " this very day so deterlrinedl, so ster;1:.:;;.:oved,  to bear thy inmpending fate like
a nati-tlhat y u  seemed to me to resemlble the last tower
or a ruined pcalace, still holding its head to heaven, when
its walls of splen(dour, and its bowers of delight, lay in
desolation around-rmay I perish, I said to imyself in st1783




360          TAI,  S oF'J'-It, (. USADF It.
cret, ere I perfect its ruin! Yes, De Lacy, then, even tlier
— but some hours since —hadst thou accepted my proffired hand, I had served thee as never foliower served Inaster. You rejected it with scorn-and yet notwithstanding
thatinsult, it required that 1 should have seen you, as I
thoughlt, trampling ovei the field in which you slew m)
master, in the full ptide of Norman insolence, to animate
iny resolution to str;e, tile blow, which, meant for you,
has slain at least one of your usurping race.-L  vill answer
no more questions-lead on to axe or gallows-it is inditferent to Cadwallon-my soul will soon be with my firee
and noble ancestry, and with my beloved and royal patron!
" My liege and prince," said De Lacy, bending his
knee to Henry, "can  you hear this, and refuse your
ancient servant one request?-Spare this man!-Extinguish not such a light, because it is devious and wild."
"Rise, rise, De Lacy, and shame thee of thy petition!" said the King.  " Thy  kinsman's blood-the
blood of a noble Norman, is on the Welchran's hands
and brow. As I am crowned King, he shall die ere it
is wiped off.-Here! have him to present execution!"
Cadwallon was instantly withdrawn under a guard. The
Constable seemed, by action rather than words, to continue his intercession.'Thou art mad, De Lacy-thou art mad, mine old and
true friend, to urge me thus," said the Kiing, compelling
De Lacy to rise.  " Seest thou not that my care in this
matter is for thee?-This Randal, by largesses and promises, hath made many fi-iends, who will not, perhaps, easily
again be brought to your allegiance, returning as thou dost,
diminished in power and wealth. Had he lived, we migh
have had hard work to deprive him entirely of the power
which he had acquired.  We thank the NWelch assassin
who hath rid us of him; but his adherents would cry foul
play were the murderer spared.  WVher  l;:~`0d is paid for
blood, all will be forgotten, and their sloysi-y will once
more flow in its proper channel to thee, tkeir lawful lordi.'
HIugo de Lacy arose from his knees, and endeavoraed
respectfully to combat the politic reasons of his xvily soynereign, which ihe plainly saw were resorted to less tfor }ith




THE BETROTHIED.                  361
sake than with the prudent purpose of effecting the
change of feudal authority, with the least possible trou.
ble to the country or Sovereign.
Henry listened to De Lacy's arguments patiently, and
combated them with temper, until the death-drum began to
seat, and the castle bell to toll.  He then led De Lacy
to the window; on which, for it was now dark, a strong
ruddy light began to gleam from without. A body of
men-at-arms, each holding in his hand a blazing torch,
were returning along the terrace from the execution oi
the wild but high-soul'd Briton, with cries of " Long live
King Henry! and so perish all enemies of the gentle
Norman men!"
CONCLUSION.
A sun hath set-a star hath risen,
O, Geraldine! since arms of thine
Have been the lovely lady's prison.
COLERIDGE.
POPUTLAR fame had erred in assigning to Eveline Berenger, after the capture of her castle, any confinerment
more severe than that of her aunt the Lady Abbess ol
the Cistertians' convent afforded.  Yet that was severe
enolgh; for maiden aunts, whether abbesses or no, are
not tolerant of the species of errors of which EveliJie
was accused; and the innocent damosel was brought in
many ways to eat her bread in shame of countenance and
bitterness of heart.  Every day of her confinement was
rendered less and less endurable by taunts, in the various
forms of sympathy, consolation, and exhortation; but
vhich, stript of their assumed forms, were undisguised
anger and insult.  The company of Rose was all which
Eveline had to sustain her under these inflictions, and( that
was at length withdrawn on the very morning w ten so
veO. 1.




362        TALES OF THE CR1USADERS.
many important events took place at the Galde Doloureuse.
The unfortunate young lady inquired in vain of a grimfaced nun, who appeared in Rose's place, to assist her
to dress, why her companion and friend was debarred
attendance.  The nun observed on that score an obstinate silence, but threw out many hints on the importance
attached to the vain ornaments of a frail child of clay, and
on the hardship that even a spouse'of heaven was compelled to divert her thoughts from her higher duties, and
condescend to fasten clasps and adjust veils.
Tile Lady Abbess, however, told her niece after matins,
that her attendant had not been withdrawn from her for
a space only, but was likelytobe shut up in a house of the
severest profession, for having afforded her mistress assistance in receiving Damian de Lacy into her sleeping
apartment at the castle of Baldringham.
A soldier of De Lacy's band, who had hitherto kept
what he had observed a secret, being off his post that
night, had now in Damian's disgrace found lie might
benefit himself by telling the story. This new blow, so
unexpected, so afflictive-this nDew charge, which it was
so difficult to explain, and so ilmpossible utterly to deny,
seemed to Eveline to seal Damian's fate and her own;
while the thought that she had involved in ruin her single-hearted and high-soul'd attendant, was all that had
been wanting to produce a state which approached to the
apathy of despair.  " Think of me what you will," she
said to her aunt, " I will no longer defend myself-say
what you will, I will no longer reply-carry me where
you will, I will no longer resist-God will, in his good
time, clear my fame-may he forgive my persecutors!"
After this, and during several hours of that unhappy
day, the Lady Eveline, pale, cold, silent, glided fiom
chapel to refectory, from refectory to chapel again, at the
slightest beck of the Abbess or her official sisters, and
seemned to regard the various privations, penances, admnonitions, and reproaches, of which she, in the course of
that diy, was subjected to an extraordinary share iio




THE B ETRO'rHED.                363
more than a marble statue minds the inclemency of tihe
external air, or the rain-drops which fall upon It, though
they must in time waste and consume it.
The Abbess, who loved her niece, although her affection showed itself often in a vexatious manner, became
at length alarmed-countermanded her orders for removing Eveline to an inferior cell-attended herself to
see her laid in bed, (in which, as in every thing else,
the young lady seemed entirely passive,) and, with something like reviving tenderness, kissed and blessed her on
leaving the apartment.  Slight as the mark of kindness
was, it was unexpected, and, like the rod of Moses, opened the hidden fountains of waters.  Eveline wept, a resource which had been that day denied to her-she
prayed-and, finally, sobbed herself to sleep, like an infant, with a mind somewliat tranquillized by having given
way to this tide of natural emotion.
She awoke more than once in the night to recall mingied and gloomy dreams of cells and of castles, of funerals and of bridals, of coronets and of racks and gibbets;
but towards morning she fell into sleep more sound than
she had hitherto enjoyed, and her visions partook of its
soothing character.  The Lady of the Garde Doloureuse
seemed to smile on her amid her dreams, and to promise
her votaress protection. The shade of her father was there
also; and with the boldness of a dreamer, she saw the paternal resemblance with awe, but witlhout fear; his lips
moved, and she heard words-their ilport she did not
fully comprehend, save that they spoke of hope, consolation, and approaching happiness. There also glided in,
with bright blue eyes fixed upon hers, dressed in a tunic
of saffron-coloured silk, with a mantle of cerulean blue
of antique fashion, the form of a female, resplendent in
that delicate species of beauty which attends the fairest
complexion. It was, she thought, the Britoness Vanda;
but hei countenance was no longer resentful-bher long
yellow hair flew not loose on her shoulders, but was mysteriously braided with oak and misletoe; above all, her
right-hand was gracefully disposed of under her mantle;




364          TAtES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
and it was an unrmutilated, unspotted, and  beatAiftA 1
folrmed hand which crossed the brow of Eveline.  Yet,
ander tlhese assurances of favour, a thrill of fear passed
over her as tlhe vision seeined to repeat, or chant,
" Widowed wife and wedded maid,
Betroth'd, betrayer, and betray'd,
All is done that has been said;
Vanda's wrong has been y-wrokenTake her pardlon by this token."
She bent down, as if to kiss Eveline, who started at that
instant, and then awoke.   Her hand was indeed gently
pressed, by one as pure and white as her own. The blue
eyes and fair hair of a lovely fenmale face, withl half-veiled bosoml and dishevelled locks, flitted througll her vision
and indeed its lips approached  to those of the lovely
sleel)er at the moment of her awakening; but it was Rcse
in whose arms lier mistress found herself pressed, and
whio moistened her t hee with tears, as in a passion of affection she covered! it with kisses.
" What means this, Rose?" said Eveline;  "thank
God, you are restored to me!-IBut what mean these
bursts of weeping?"
" Let me weep-let me weep," said Rose; " it is long
since 1 have wept for joy, and long, I trust, it will be ere
I again weep for sorrow. Newsarecomeonthe spur from
the Garde Doloureuse-Amelot has brought them-he
is at liberty-so is his master, and in high favotl  with
Henry.  Hear yet more, but let me not tell it too hastily
-You grow pale."
"No, no," said Eveline; " go on-go on-I think I
inderstandt you-I think I do."
"The villain Randal de Lacy, the master-mover ot
all our sorrows, will plague you no more; he was slain
by an honest Welchtnan, and grieved am I that they
have hanged the poor man fobr his good service. Above all,
the stout old Constable is himself returned fiom Palestine,
as worthy, and somewhat wiser, thlan he was; for it is
thoughllt he will renounce lhis contract with your ladyship."




TIHE BETROTHED.                3)5.
Silly girl," said Eveline, crimsoning as high as she
blad been before pale, "jest not amidst such a tale.  But
can this be reality?-Is Randal indeed slain?-and the
Constable returned?"
These were hasty and hurried questions, answered as
hastily and confusedly, and broken with ejaculations of
surprise and thanks to Heaven, and to Our Lady, until
the ecstasy of delight sobered down into a sort of tranquil wonder.
Meanwhile Damian Lacy also had his explanations to
receive, and the mode in which they were conveyed had
something remarkable. Damian had for some time been
the inhabitant of what our age would have termed a dungeon, but which, in the ancient days, they called a prison.
We are perhaps censurable in making the dwelling and
the food of acknowledged and convicted guilt more comfortable and palatable than what the parties could have
gained by any exertions when at large, and supporting
themselves by honest labour; but this is a venial error
compared to that of our ancestors, who, considering a
charge and a conviction as synonymous, treated the accused before sentence in a manner which would have
been of itself a severe punishment after he was found
guilty. Damian, therefore, notwithstanding his high birth
and distinguished rank, was confined after the manner
of the most atrocious criminal, was heavily fettered, fed
on the coarsest food, and experienced only this alleviation, that he was permitted to indulge his misery in a solitary and separate cell, the wretched furniture of which
was a mean bedstead, and a broken table and chair.  A
coffin-and his own arms and initials were painted upon
it-stood in one corner, to remind him of his approaching fate  and a crucifix was placed in another, to intimate to him that there was a world beyond that, which
must soon close upon him.  No noise could penetrate
into the iron silence of his prison-no rumour, either
touching his own fate or that of his friends.  Charged
with being taken in open arms against the King, lhe was
VOL. I




566          TALES )F TIlE CRUSADERS.
subJect to military law, and to be put to death eve.
without the formality of a hearing; and he foresaw no
milder:onclusion to his imprisonment.
This melancholy dwelling had been the abode of Damian for nearly a month, swhlen, strange as it may seein,
his health, which had suffered much fioom  his wounds,
began gradually to improve, either benefited by the abstemious diet to which he was reduced, or that certainty,
nowever melancholy, is an evil better endured by many
constitutions than the feverish contrast betwixt )ass:on
and duty.  But the terml of his imprisonment seemed
drawing speedily to a close; his jailer, a sullen Saxon
of the lowest order. in more words tllan lie had yet used
to him, warned him to look to a speedy change of dwelling; and the tone in which he spoke convinced the prisoner there was no time to be lost.  He demnanded a
confessor, and the jailer, thouglh le witlldrew  without
reply, seemed to intimate by his manner tllat the boon
would be granted.
Next morning, at an unusually early hlour, the chains
and bolts of tle cell were hleard to clasll and groan,
and Damian was startled froimn a broken sleel, whllicll lie
had not enjoyed  for above two hllors.  His eyes were
bent on the slowly opening door, as if lie hlad expected
the headsmlan and hlls assistants; but tlle jailor usllered in a stout man in a pilgrim's lhabit.
"Is it a priest whom you bring me, warden?" said
the unlappy prisoner.
" He can best answer the question himself," said the
nurly official, and presently withdrew.
The iilgrim  remained standing on the floor, witll llis
back to the snmall window, or rather loophole, by wlhiclh
tlhe cell was inIperfectly lighted, and gazed intently uplon
Damian, who was seated on tl)e side of his bed; his pale
cheek and dishevelled hair bearing a melancholy correspondence to his heavy irons.  lie returned the pilgrimn's gaze, but tlle iniperfect light only showed him
that his visiter was a stout old man, whlo woirc the scallop-sllell on his bonnet, as a token that lie had passed tlh




THE BETROTHED.                  367
sea, and carried a palm branch in his hand, to shtw he
nad visited the Holy Land.
" Benedicite, reverend  father," said the unhappy
young man; " are you a priest, come to unburden my
nonscience?"
" I am not a priest," replied the Palmer, " but one who
brings you news of discomfort."
"; You bring them to one to whom  comfort has been
long a stranger, and to a place which perchance never
knew it," replied Damian.
"  may be the bolder in my communication,'" said the
Palmer: "those in sorrow will better hear ill news than
those whom  they surprise in the possession of content
and happiness."
" Yet even the situation of the wretched,"  said
Damian, "' can be rendered more wretched by suspense.
I pray you, reverend sir, to speak the worst at once-I11
you came to announce the doom of this poor firame, may
God be gracious to the spirit which must be violently dismissed firom it!"
" I have no such charge"-said the Palmer.-" I come
from the Holy Land, and have the more grief in finding
you thus, because my message to you was one addressed
to a free man, and a wealthy one."
" For my freedom," said Damian, " let these fetters
speak, and this apartment for my wealth.-But speakl
out thy news-should my uncle, for I fear thy tale regards him, want either my arm or my fortune, this dun.
geon and my degradation have further pangs than I had
yet supposed, as they render me unable to aid hirn."
" Your uncle, young mlan,'' said the Pallner, " is prisoner, I should rather say s!ave, to the great Soldan, taken
in a battle in which he did his duty, thouglh unable to
avert the deleat of the Christians, with whiic)' it was concluded.  He was made prisoner while covering the retreat, but not until he had slain with his own hand, for his
misfortune as it hias proved, Hassan Ali, a favourite of the
Soldan. The cruel pagan has caused the worthy knight
to be loaded with Irons heavier than those you wear, and




36b        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
the dungeon to which he is confined would make this seemrv
a palace.  Tlhe inftdel's first resolution was to put tile vwiiant Constable to the most dreadful death which his tort
mentors could devise.  But fame told him that Hugo de
Lacy was a man of great power and wealth; and lie has denanded a ransom of ten thousand bezants of gold. Your
uncle replied that the payment would totally impoverish
him, and oblige him to dispose of his whole estates;
even then lie pleaded time must be allowed him to con~ert them into money.  The Soldan replied, that it imported little to him whether a hound like the Constable
were fat or lean, and that lie therefore insisted upon the
full amount of the ransom.  But he so far relaxed as to
make it payable in three portions, on condition that, along
with the first portion of the price, the nearest of kin and
heir of De Lacy must be placed in his hands as a hostage
for what remained due.  On these conditions he con..
sented your uncle should be put at liberty so soon as you
arrive in Palestine with the oold."
" Now may I indeed call myself unhappy," said Damian, 1" that I cannot show my love and duty to my noble uncle, who hath ever been a father to me in my orphan state."
" It will be a heavy disappointment, doubtless, to the
Constable," said the Palmer, " because he was eager to
return to this happy country, to fulfil a contract of marriage which he had formed with a lady of great beauty
and fortune."
Damiami shrunk together in such sort that his fetters
clashed, but he made no answer.
" Were he not your uncle," continued the pilgrim
"and well known as a wise man, I should think he is not
quite prudent in this matter.  Whatever he was before
lie left England, two summers spent in the wars of Palestine, and another amid the tortures and restraints of a
heathen prison, have made him a sorry bridegroom."
" Peace, Pilgrim," said De Lacy, with a conmlanling
tone.     It is not thy part to censure such a noble kniT;h




THE BETROTHED.                 369
as my uncle, nor is it meet that I should listen to youi
strictures."
" I crave your pardon, young man," said the Pallner
"I spoke not without some view to your interest, which:iethinks, does not so well consort with thine uncle having an heir of his body."
"Peace, base man," said Damian.  " By heaven, I
think worse of my cell than I did before, since its doors
opened to such a counsellor, and of my chains, since they
restrain ine fromn chastising hlim.-Depart, I pray thee."
" Not till I have your answer for your uncle," answered the Pallner.  "My age scorns the  anger of thy
youth, as the rock despises the foam of the rivulet dashed
against it."
"Then, say to my uncle." answered Damian, " I am
a prisoner, or I would have come to him —  am a confiscated beggar, or I would have sent him my all."
" Such virtuous purposes are easily and boldly announced," said the Palmer, "C when he who speaks them knows
that he cannot be called upon to make good the boast
of his tongue.  But could I tell thee of thy restoration
to freedom and wealth, I trow thou would'st consider
twice ere thy act confirmed the sacrifice thou hast in thy
present state promised so glibly."
"' Leave me, I prithee, old man," said Damian;
"thy thought cannot comprehend the tenor of minego, and add not to my distress insults which I have
not the means to avenge."
" But what if I had it in my power to place thee in the
situation of a free and wealthy man, would it please thee
hen to be reminded cf thy present boast? for if not,
thou may'st rely on my discretion never to mention the
difference of sentiment between Damian bound andl Damian at liberty."
" How meanest thou?-or hast thou any meaning, save
to torment me?" said the youth.
" Not so," replied the old Palmer, plucking from his
Oosom a parchment scroll to which a heavy seal was
attached.-"i Know  that thy cousin Randal hath been




370)       TALES OF TILE CRUSADERS.
strangely slain, and his treacheries towards the Constable
and thee as strangely discovered.  The King, in requital
of thy sufferings, hath sent thee this fiull pardon, and en
dowed thee with a third part of those ample estates which.
by his death, revert to the crown."
" And hath the King also restored my freedom and my
right of blood?" exclaimed DamJian.
"' From this moment, forthwith, said the Palmer"look upon the parchment-behold the royal hand and
seal."
"1 must have better proof. —Here," he exclaimed,
loudly clashing his irons at the same time, " Here, thou
Dogget —warder, son of a Saxon wolf-hound!"
The Palmer, striking on the door, seconded the previous exertions for summoning the jailer, who entered acco:rdingly.
"Warder," said Damian de Lacy, in a stern tone,
" am I yet thy prisoner, or no?"
The sullen jailer consulted the Palmer by a look, and
then answered to Damian, that he was a fiee man.
" Then, death of thy heart, slave," said Damian, impatiently, " why hang these fetters on the free limbs of a
Norman noble? each moment they confine himn are worth
a life-time of bondage to such a serf as thou."
"They are soon rid of, Sir Damian," said the man;
"and I pray you to take some patience, when you remember that ten minutes since you had little right to
think these bracelets would have been removed for any
other purpose than your progress to the scaffold."
"Peace, ban-dog," said Damian, " and be speedy 
~-And thou, who hast brought me these good tidingls. I
fnr-ive thy former bearing-thou thoughtest, doubtless.
that it was prudent to extort from me professions during
my bondage which might in honour decide my conduc!
when at large.  The suspicion inferred in it somewhat
offensive, but thy motive was to ensure my uncle's liberty.'
" And it is really your purpose," said the Palmner
"c to employ your newly-gained freedom in a voyage to




THIE BETROTHED.                37)
Syria. and to exchange your English prison for the dungeon of the Soldan?"
"If thou thyself will act as my guide," answered the
undaunted youth, " you shall not say I dally by the way."
" And the ransom," said the Palmer, " how is that
to be provided?"
"How, but from the estates, which, nominally restored
to me, remain in truth and justice my uncle's, and must
be applied to his use in the first instance?  If I mistake
not greatly, there is not a Jew or Lombard who would not
advance the necessary sums on such security.-Therefore, dog," he continued, addressing the jailer, " hasten
thy unclenching and undoing of rivets, and be not dainty
of giving mne a little pain, so thou break no limb, for I
cannot afLcrd to be staved on Imy journey."
The Palmer looked on a little while, as if surprised at
Damnian's determination, then exclaimed, " I can keep
the old man's secret no longer-such high-souled generosity must not be sacrificed.-Hark thee, brave Sir
Damian, I have a mighty secret still to impart, and as
this Saxon churl understands no French, this is no unfit
opportunity to communicate it.  Know that thine uncle
is a changed man in mind, as he is debilitated and broken down in body.  Peevishness and jealousy have possessed themselves of a heart which was once strong and
generous; his life is now on the dregs, and I grieve to
speak it, these dregs are foul and bitter."
" Is this thy mighty secret?" said Damian. "That
men grow old, I know; and if with infirmity of body
comes infirmity of temper and mind, their case the more
strongly claims the dutiful observance of those who are
bound to them in blood or affection."
Ay," replied the pilgriln, " but the Constable's mind
has been poisoned against thee by rurnous whiclh have
reached his ear from  England, that there have been
thoughts of affection betwixt thee and his betrothed bride,
Eveline Berenger.-Ha! have I touched you now?"
" Not a whit," said Damian, putting on the strongest
resolution with which his virtue could supply hlin-" it
was but this fellow who struck my shin-bone somewhat




372        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
sharply with his hammer. Proceed. AMy tncle heard
such a report and believed it?"
" He did," said the Palmer-" I can well aver it,
since he concealed no thought from me.  But he prayed
me carefully to hide his suspicions from you,' Otherwise,'
said he,' the young wolf-cub will never thrust himnsell
into the trap for the deliverance of the old he-wolf.
Were he once in my prison-house,' your uncle continued
to speak of you,' hie should rot and die ere I sent one
penny of ransom  to set at liberty the lover of my betrothed bride.'"
" Could this be my uncle's sincere purpose?" said Damian, all aghast. " Could he plan so much treachery towards
me as to leave me in the captivity into which I threw myself for his redemption?-Tush! it cannot be."
" Flatter not yourself with such a vain opinion,' said
the Palmer-" if you go to Syria, you go to eternal captivity, while your uncle returns to possession of wealth
little diminished-and of Eveline Berenger."
"L Ha!" ejaculated Damian; and looking down for
an instant, demanded of the Palmer, in a subdued voice,
what he would have him to do in such an extremity.
" The case is plain, according to my poor judgment,"
replied the Palmer.  " No one is bound to faith with
those who mean to observe none with him. Anticipate
this treachery of your uncle, and let his now short and
infirm existence moulder out in the pestiferous cell to
which he would condemn your youthful strength. The
royal grant has assigned you lands enough for your honourable support; and wherefore not unite with them
those of the Garde Doloureuse?-Eveline Berenger, ii
I do not greatly mistake, will scarcely saynay. Ay, more
— I vouch it on my soul that she will say yes, for I have
sure information of her mind; and for her pre-contract,
a word from Henry to his holiness, now that they are in
the hey-day of their reconciliation, will obliterate the
name Hugh from the parchment, and insert Damian in
Its stead.'




T H E B ET RO'rI  ED.           31 3
A' Now, by my faith," said Damian, arisinlg and Iplacing his foot upon the stool, that tile warldermight mnore
easily strike off tile last ring by which lie was enct mbered,-" I have heard of such things as this-I have heard
of' beings who, with seeming gravity of word and aspect
— with subtle counsels, artfullly applied to the firailties ol
human nature-have haunted tlhe cells of despainin1o
men, and made them many a fair promise, if theyr wouli
but exchange for their by-ways the paths of salvation
Such are the fiend's dearest agents, and in such a gu-ise
hath the fiend himself been known to appear.  In the
name of God, old man, if human thou art, begone!-I
like not thy words nor thy presence-I spit at thy coIunsels. And mnark me," he added, with a menacing gestulre,
" look to thine own salety-I shall presently be at liberty!"
" Boy," replied the Palmer, folding his arms contemptuously in his cloak, " I scorn thy tnenaces-l  leave
thee not till we know each other better."
I"  too,"  said Damnian, " would fain know whether
thou be'st man or fiend; and now for the trial."  As he
spoke, the last shackle fell from his leg and clashed on
the pavement, and at the same moment he sprung on the
Palmer, caught him by the waist, and exclaimed, as he
made three distinct and desperate attempts to lift him up,
and dash him headlong to the earth, " This for nmaligning a nobleman —this for doubting the honour of a knight
-and this (with a yet more violent exertion) for belying
a lady!"
Each effort of Damian seemed equal to have rooted
up a tree; yet though they staggered the old man, they
overthrew him not; and while Damian panted with his
last exertion, he replied, " And take thou this, for so
roughly entreating thy father's brother."
As he spoke, Damian de Lacy, the best youthful wrest.
ler in Cheshire, received no soft fall on the floor of the
dungeon.   He arose slowly and astounded, but tile
Palmer had now thrown back both hood and (lalmatique,
and the features, though bearing  marlks of age  and
17  veOL. I.




374          T TAEiS OF TILE CItUSAI)EllS.
clirnate. were those of his uncle tile Constable, who
calmly observed, " I think, Darnian, thou art becolme
stronger, or I weaker, since my breast was last pressed
against yours in ouw' country's celebrated sport.  Thou
hadst nigh had me dlown in that last turn, but that I knew
the old De Lacy's back-trip as well as thoul.-But wherefore kneel, man?"  He raised him with much kindness,
kissed lhis cheek, and proceeded: Think not, my dearest
ieplhew, that I meant in my late disguise to ity your faith,
which I myself never doubted.  But evil tongues had
been busy, and it was this which made me resolve on
an experiment, the result of which has been, as 1 expecte(l, most honourable for you.  And know, (for these walls
have sometimes ears, even according to the letter,) there
are ears and vyes not far distant which have heard and
seen tile whole.  Marry, I wish, though, thy last hug had
not been so severe a one.  My ribs still feel the irmpression of thy knuckles."
" I)earest and honoured uncle," said Damian, " exCIse  -"
"There is nothing to excuse," replied his uncle, inter
rupting him.   4' Have we not wrestled a turn before
now?-But there remains yet one trial for thee to go
through-Get thee out of this hole speedily-donthy
best array to accompany me to the church at noon; for,
Damian thou must be present at the marriage of the
Lady Eveline Berenger."
This proposal at once struck to the earth the unhappy
young man.  " For mercy's sake," he exueaimed, " hold
nme excused in this, my gracious uncle!-I have been ol
a, te severely wolundled and am very weak."
" As my bones can testify," said his uncle.'" Why,
nan, tl;oulliast thle strength of a Norway bear."
" Passion,"  answered  Damian,  " might give me;trengtll for a moment; but, dearest uncle, ask any thing
of ine rather than this. IlMethinks, if I have been faulty,
somte other punishment might suffice."
" I tell thee," said the Constable, " thy presence is
necessary-indispensably necessary.   Strange reports




'!tiq I',  ETiTon TaED.        375
have been abroad, which thy absence on this occasion
would go far to confirm.  Eveline's character and mine
own are concerned in this."
"If so," said Damian, " if it be indeed so, no task
will be too hard for me.  But I trust, when the ceremrony is ovel, you will not refilse me your consent to take
the cross, unless you should prei.r imy joining the troops
destined, as I heard, for the conquest of Ireland."' Ay, ay," said the Constable; " if Eveline grant
you permission, I will not withhold mine."
" Uncle," said Damian, somewhat sternly, " you ao
not know the feelings which you jest with."
" Nay," said the Constable,' I compel nothing; foi
if' thou goest to the church, and likest not the match,
thou may'st put a stop to it if thou wilt —the sacrament
cannot proceed without the bridegroom's consent."
" I understand you not, uncle," said Damian; " you
have already consented."
1' Yes, Damian," he said, s" I have-to withdraw my
claim, and to relinquish it in thy favour;  for  if  Eveline Berenger is wedded to-day, thou art her bridegroom
-the Church has given her sanction-the King his approbation-the lady says not nay —and the question only
now remains, whether the bridegroom will say yes."
The nature of the answer may be easily conceivei;
nor is it necessary to dwell upon the splendour of the ceremonial; which, to atone for his late unmerited severity.
Henry honoured with his own presence.  Amelot and
Rose were shortly afterwards united: old Flammock
having been previously created a gentleman of coat armour, that the gentle Norman blood right, without
utter derogation, mingle with the meaner stream which
coloured the cheek in crimson, and meandered in azure
wver the lovely neck and bosoni of the fair Fleming. There
was nothing in the manner of the Constable towards his
nephew and his bride, which could infer a regret of the
generous self-denial which he had exercised in favour of
their youthful passion. But he soon after accepted a high
comllland in the troops destinud to invade Ireland; and




376         TALES OF THE CRUSADEURS
his name is found among the highest in the roll of th,
chivalrouts Normans who first united that fair island te
the English crown.
Eveline, restored to her own fair castle and domains1
failed not to provide for her Confessor, as well as for her
old soldiers, servants, and retainers, forgetting their errors,
and remembering their fidelity.  The Confessor was restored to the flesh-pots of Egypt, more congenial to his
habits than the meagre fare of his convent.  Even Gillian
had the means of subsistence, since to punish her would
have been to distress the faithful Raoul.  They quarrelled for the future part of their lives in plenty, just as they
had formerly quarrelled in poverty; for wrangling curs
will fight over a banquet as fiercely as over a bare bone.
Raoul died first, and Gillian having lost her whetstone,
found that as her youthful looks decayed her wit turned
somewhat blunt. She therefore prudently commenced
devotee, and spent hours in long panegyrics on her departed husband.
The only serious cause of vexation which I can trace
the Lady Eveline having been tried with, arose fiorn a
visit of her Saxon relative, made with much form, but unfortunately, at the very tinme which the Lady Abbess had
selected for that same purpose. The discord which arose
Detween these honoured personages was of a doublc
character, for they were Norman and Saxon, and, moreover, differed in opinion concerning the time of holding
Easter. This, however, was but a slight gale to disturb
the general serenity of Eveline; for with her unhopedfor union with Damlan, ended the trials and sorrows of
TIE BETROTSHED.




NOTES TO TIHE B ETROTHED.
i.  Page 6.  A Rtomance, by tile Author ol' Vaverley, having been ex;,eceled ablout this time at thile -reat commercial ilart of literature, thle Fair of
l.ei)psic. al ictlltgious genttlenman of Gertianty, liniig tlhat iolte sEich apipear.
ced. was so kiInd as to slptpldy its place with a work. ilt three volntlres, c,11lled
a.Saidliiior, to which he preixed thle Cltristian and sirtrinme at'ut:l leagth.
Th'lie character li tills $work is given with tolerable flirniess il tLhe text.
2.  Page 6.  Scottishl fbr cross-examine him.
3.  Page 6. The ale of the ancient British is called cr2w  in their native
lanliutIe.
4.  Page 7.'I'This was an opinion universally eitertainted;long tlte friends,f' the author.
5.  Page 23.  It is said in Iighland tradition, that one of the Macdlonalds
o,f the Isles, wvlo lhad slltleredl Its broadsword to remnain sheathled for sotne
Imonthls after hIis marriage with a bealttiful wolan, was stirred to a sudden
and furious expedition ag ainst the mainlatad, by hearing conversation to the
above lurpose amtongg his body-guard.
6.  Page 24.'IThe Welsh hIouses. like those of the cognate tribes in Ireland ald it the HIighllnds of Scotlandl,  ere very imerfectly supplied with
hlimntlevs.  tienee, in the Histor, of tlhe Gwvdir Family, the striking expression of a Welsls chieftai.  wh lo, the house tt eing assaulted and set ott fire
hy his enemies, exhlorted hIis friends to stand to ttleir defetnce, sayving he had
seen as much smoke in the hall upon a Christmas even.
7.   atre 224.  See Madoc for thisliteralfiot pae's office and duties.  5M
SeCltnecys rotes iiitorm us  Tihe foot-bearer shall h1old the leet of the Kiig
ill isS lap, iroin thle time he reclines at the board till he goes to rest, and he
slIall clafb them with a towel;, a.d during all that time sltall watch tlhat no
harmn befalls the King.  He shall eat of the same dish from *which thle Kitg
takes his fobod: he shall light the tirst candle before thle Kin.'."  Such are thte
instructions given for this part of royt! ceremonial in the laws of Howell
Dha.  It may be added, that probably upot this Celtic custom was tbunded
one of those absurd and incredible representations wllich were propagated at
the time of the Frellch Revolutiont, to stir up the peasants against their feudal
superiors.  It was pretended that some feudal seignteurs asserted their righl
to kill ind disembowel a peasant, in order to put their own feet withill thi
expiriti  body, and so recover them from the chill.
P   Page 54.  CouRAGE OF' THE WFLSH.-This is by no means exag.
gerated itl the chapter we have just closed.  A very hottourable testimonS
was t'iven to their valotr by Kilgr I-Jenrv 11., in a letter to the Greek Emperor, ltmanuel Comnleu is.  This prince having desired that an account mighl
be sent him of all that was remarkable in the island of Great Britain, Hetnry;n answer to that request. was pleased to take notice, among other particalanr




37~8              NOTES TO THE BETROTHED.
of the extraordinary courage and fierceness of the Welsh, who were not
afraid to fight unarnied with enemies armed at all lpoints, valiantly slhdcding
their bloodi in tile cause of their country, and purchasing  glory at the expense
of their lives.
9. Page 62. This is a somewhat comitumelious epithet, applied by the
Welsh to the English.
10. Page 79. Old Henry Jenkins, in his Recollections of the Abbacies
nefbre their dissolution, has preserved the fact, that roast-beef was delivered
out to the guests, not by weight, but by measure.
II.  Page 90.  ARCHERS OF WtALEts.-The Welsh were excellent bowmens; but, under favotur of Lord Lyttleton, they probabl y did not use the
long-I.ow, the forinidcable weaponf te Nors, a aterards of the Normns, and afterwards of the
English yeolren.  That of the'Welsh most likely rather resembled the bow
of tile cognate Celtic tribes of Ireland, and of the Highllands of Scotland.
It was shorter than the Norman long-bow, as being drawn to the breast, not
to the ear, more loosely strung, and the arrow  having a heavy iron head 
altogether, inl short, a less effective weapon. It appears fromn the following
alne.dote, that there was a difference between the Welsh arrows anid those o4
tile Eng'lish.
In 1122, Henlry the II., marching into Powys-Laind to chastise Meredy',A
ap Bletlthyn and certain rebels, it passinig a defile was struck by an arrow  ),n
the ibreast.  Repelled by thle excellence of his breastplate, the shaft fel to
tihe grouid.   lhen the King felt tile blow and saw the shaft, lie swore his
uisual oath, by the death of our Lord, that the arrow came not from a Welsh,
but anl English bow; and, influenced by this belief, hastily put an end to
the war.
Iq.  Page 101.  Even the sharp and angry clang nimade by the iron scab.
bards of modern cavalry ringing against tile steel-tlpp'(l saddlees and stirrup,
betrays their approach from a distance.  T'he clash of the armour of knights,
arnmed cap-ti-piu,  must have been much more easily discernible.
13.  Page 108. EUDORCHAWOr, OR GOLD CHAINS OF THE WELSH.-''lhese were the distinluished marks of ranik anld valour anmong the numerous
tribes of Celtic extraction.  Matlius, the Roman Champion, gained the!ame
of Torquatus, or lie of the cihain, oil account of anl ortlanicst of this kind,
won, inl single combat, from a giganitic Gaul.  Aneurin, the Welsh bard,
mentions, ill his ploelm on the battle of Catterath, that no less than three hundred of the British. who fell there, had their necks wreathed with the Eudorchawg.  This seeins to infer that the chain was a badge of distinlction, anid
valour perhaps, but not of royalty; otherwise there would scarce have been
so miany kiigs present in one battle.'This chain has been found accordingly
in Irelanid and Wales, and sometimes, though more rarely, in Scotland.
Doubtless it was of too precious materials not to be usually cm)nverted into
money by tile enemy into whose hands it fell.
14.  Page 116.  CRUELTIFS OF THE WELSH.-Thle Welsh, afieree and
barbarous people, were often accused of matngling the bodies of their slain,ntagonists.  Every one must remember Shakspeare's account, how
—' the noble Mortimer,
Leading  the men of Herefi;rdshire to fight
A aainst the irregular tand wild GlendowerV as, by the rude hands of that Welshman. taken,
Alld a thousand of his people bittcher'd:
Upot whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
Such beastly shameless transformation,
By these Welshwomen domme, as may not be,
Without mud shame, retold or spoken of.'




NOTES TO THE BETRoTHED.: 79
15   Page  63.  BAHR-GEIST.-The idea of the Bahr-Geist,s a taken
romin a passage in the Memoirs of Lady Fanshaw, which have since b)een
givken to the public, and received with deserved approbation.
T'he origiial runs as fbllows.  Lady Faishaw, shiftiig anmong her frienlds
in Ireland, like othler sound loyalists of' the perio(i, tells her story thus:"From  thence we went to the Lady Honor O'Brien's. a lady that'went for
a maid, but few believed it. She was the youngqest clauiliter of the Earl or
Thnollod.  There we staid three nights-the first of which I was surprised
at being laid in a chamber, where, when about one o'clock, I heard a voice
that awakened Ime. I drew the curtain, anid in the casement of' the wiidllts\
I saw, by the light of the moon. a waomlanl leaning tl ronulhl tle caseieiit i;r1
t,c( room,, ill white, with red hair andi pale.tll  ghastly com!;ie hcsin..,e
spoke loud, and in a tone I had never heard, thrice, "A horse;" and thien
wvith a sigh more like the wind than breath, she vanished, and to mne her bod)
looked more like a thick cloud than substance.  I was so much frighllteed
that my hair stood on end. and my night clothes fell off' I pulled and p)inched
your father, who never awoke duriig the disorder I vwas in. but at last wvas
much surprised to see me in this fright, and more so when I related the story
and showed him the window  opened.  Neither of' us slept any more that
night; but he entertaited me by tellingt me how much more these apparitions
were common ill this country thait in England; and we coicluded the calse
to be the great superstition of the Irish, anrd the want of' that knowilng  faith
which should dcefend them  firom the power of' the devil, which lihe exerrises
among them very munch.  About five o'clock, the lady of the house came to
see us, saying she had not been in bed all nlight, because a cousin O'lrieni of
hers, whose ancestors had owned that house, hail  desire(d her to stay with
him  in his chamber, and that lie died at tvwo o'clock; amid she said. I wish
you to have had no disturbarlee, for'tis the custom of the place, that, whein
any of the family are dyinig, the shape of a womian appears every iigiht in
n.he window until they be dlead.'his woman was manly ages ago got w'xith
child by the owvier of this place, who murdered her in his garden, and flainl
her into the river under the window; but truly I thought not of it wlheni
lodged you here, it being the best room in the house. We made little reply
to her speech, but disposed ourselves to be gone suddenly."
16. Page 213. Self-importance, or assumption.
17. Page 272.  Cymbri, or Welsh.
18. Page 31)4. The pennon of a knight was, in shape, a long streamer,
and forked like a swallow's tail; the banner of a Bamineret was sqtalre, alid
was formed ilto the othler by cutting the ends from the peninon.  It was thus
the ceremony was perfbornied on the pennon of Joliii Chantlos, by the Rlacl
Prince, before the battle of Nejara.
19.  Page 339.  Such all expression is said to have been used by Mandrin
the celebrated smug.tler,.vshi!e in the act of!Ieigj brokeni uponl  t heheel.
This dreadful pullishment consists in the executioner, with a tar of iron.
breakino the shoulder bones, arms, thigh-bornes, and les of tle criminal,
takiuig his alternate sides. The punishment is concluded by a olow acros.
the breast, called the coup de.rrace, because it removes the sutif rer from  hlis
ag~ony'.  Wrhen Mandrin received the second blow over the left shoulder
oone, lie laughed.  His confessor enquired the reason of demeanour s<o untecomning his situation.  " I only laugh at my own folly, Imv father." anll
swered Mandritc, " xwho could suppose that sensibility of pain- should conlinue after the nervous system  had been completely deranged by the first
blow."
END  OF VOI.UME 1.












>~~~~~~'
_I
/ ~ lE IUTE I)ETECTIYE.
/~~~~v~~~~  /~ ~
~,                                          I 
/~~~~~~~ 
=5 —~ ~ ~~//   j1`
THE ~ ~ ~~'~ciC MUTE DETECTIV




WAVERLEY NOVELS,
STANDARD EDITION.
TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
F H E TALIS MA]
CONTAINING THE AUTHOR S FINAL CORRECTIONS} NOTES- ETC.
PHILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES,
No. 8z2 CHESTNUT STREET.








INTRODUCTION
TO
THE TALISMAN.
THE1 "Betrothed" did not greatly please one or two
friends, who thought that it did not well correspond to
the general title of " The Crusaders."   The)y urged,
therefore, that, without direct allusion to the manners of
the Eastern tribes, and to the romantic conflicts of the
period, the title of a "Tale of the Crusaders" would resemble the playbill, which is said to have announced the
tragedy of Hamlet, the character of the Prince of Denmark being left out. On the other hand, I felt the difficulty of giving a vivid picture of a part of the world
with which I was almost totally unacquainted, unless by
early recollections of the Arabian Nights' Entertainments;
and not only did I labour under the incapacity of ignorance, in which, as far as regards Eastern manners, I
was as thickly wrapped as an Egyptian in his fogr; but
my contemporaries were, many of' them, as much enlightened upon the subject, as if they had been inhabitants of the favoured land of Goshen.  The love of
travelling had pervaded all ranks, and carried the subjects of Britain into all quarters of the world.  Greece,
so attractive by its remains of art, by its struggles for
freedom against a Mahomedan tyrant, by its very name,
where every fountain had its classical legend;-Palestine, endeared to the imagination by yet more sacred remembrances, had been of late surveyed by British eyes,
and described by recent travellers.  Had 1, therefore,
attempted the difficult task of substituting manners of
nly own invent;on, instead of the genuine costume of




4                I NTRODUCTION Ti
the East, almost every traveller I met, who had extended
his route beyond what was anciently called " The Grand
Tour." had acquired a right, by ocular inspection, to
chastise me for my presumption. Every member of the
Travellers' Club, who could pretend to have thrown his
shoe over Edom, was, by having done so, constituted
my lawful critic and corrector.  It occurred, therefore,
that where the author of Anastasius, as well as he of
Hadji Baba, had described the manners and vices of the
Eastern nations, not only with fidelity, but with the humour of Le Sage and the ludicrous power of Fielding
himself, one who was a perfect stranger to the subject
must necessarily produce an unfavourable contrast. The
Poet Laureate also, in the charming tale of'" Thalaba,"
had shown how extensive migrlt be the researches of a
person of acquirements and talent, by dint of investigation alonle, into the ancient doctrines, history, and manners of the Eastern countries, in which we are probably
to look for the cradle of mankind; Moore, in his " Lalla
Rookh," had successfully trod the same path; in which,
too, Byron, joining ocular experience to extensive reading, had written some of his most attractive poems.  In
a word, the Eastern themes had been already so successfully handled by those who were acknowledged to be
masters of their craft, that I was diffident of making the
attempt.
These were powerful objections, nor did they lose
force when they became the subject of anxious reflection, although they did not finally prevail.  The arguments on the other side were, that though I had no hope
of rivalling the contemporaries whom I have mentioned,
yet it occurred to me as possible to acquit myself of the
task I was engaged in, without entering into competition
with them.
The period relating more immediately to the Crusades which I at last fixed upon, was that at which the
warlike character of Richard I., wild and generous, a
pattern of chlivalry, with all its extravagant virltes, and
its nc less absurd errors, was opposed to that of Saladin,




T1HE TAlISMAN.                    &
a which the Christian and English monarch showed all
the cruelty and violence of an. Eastern sultan; and Saladin, on the other hand, displayed the deep policy and
prudence of a European sovereign, whilst each contended which should excel the other in the knightly qualities
of bravery and generosity. This singular contrast afforded, as the author conceived, materials for a work of fiction, possessing peculiar interest.  One of the inferior
characters introduced, was a supposed relation of Richard Cceur de, Lion; a violation of the truth of history,
which gave offence to Mr. Mills, the Author of tl-e
History of Chivalry and the Crusades, who was not, it
may be presumed, aware that romnantic fiction naturally
includes the power of such invention, which is indeed
one of the requisites of the art.
Prince David of Scotland, who was actually in the
host, and was the hero of some very romantic adventures on his way home, was also pressed into my service, and constitutes one of my dramaris personce.
It is true I had already brought upon the field Him of
the lion heart.  But it was in a more private capacity
than he was here to be exhibited in the'ralisman; thell
as a disguised knight, now in the avowed character of a
conquering monarch; so that I doubted rinot a name so
dear to Englishmen as that of King Richard I. might
contribute to their amusement for more than once.
I had access to all which antiquity believed, whether
of reality or fable, on the subject of that magnificent
warrior, who nas the proudest boast of Europe and their
lchivalry, and with whose dreadful name the Saracens,
according to a historian of their own country, were wont
to rebuke their startled horses.  " Do you think," said
they, "that King Richard is on the track, that you stray
so wildly firom  it?"  The most curious register of the
history of King Richard, is an ancient rolance, translatedl originally fronm the Norman; and at first certainly
Iiavilln  a  pretence to be termed a work of chivalry, buil
latterly beconiing stuffe( withl t1he lwo;-t aIstofnishin, ar(5n
VOI,. II




6                INT'rlOUc'rIoN TO
tnonstrous fables.  There is perhaps no metrical ronarance upon record, where, along wvith curlious and gc luine history, are mingled more absurd and exaggerated incidents. We have placed in the Appendix to this Intro..
ltuction, the passage of the romance in which Richard
figures as an Ogre, or literal cannibal.-(Appendix,
p. 10.)
A principal incident in the story, is that from which
the title is derived.  Of all people who ever lived, the
Persians were perhaps most remarkable for their unshaken
credulity in amulets, spells, periapts, and similar charmls,
franmed, it was said, under the influence of particular
planets, and bestowing high medical powers, as well as
the means of advancing men's fortunes in various mantiers.  A story of this kind, relating to a Crusader of
eminence, is often told in the west of Scotland, and the
relic alluded to is still in existence, and even yet held in
veneration.
Sir Simon Lockhart of Lee and Cartland made a considerable figure in the reigns of Robert the Bruce and of
his son David.  He was one of the chief of that band
of Scottish chivalry, who accompanied James, the Good
Lord Douglas, on his expedition to the Holy Land,
with the heart of King Robert Bruce.  Douglas, impatient to get at the Saracens, entered into war with those
of Spain, and was killed there.  Lockhart proceeded to
the Holy Land with such Scottish knights as had escaped
the fate of their leader, and assisted for some time in the.vars against the Saracens.
The following adventure is said by tradition to have:efallen him:
lie made prisoner in battle an Emir of considerable
wealth and consequence.  The aged mother of the capyive came to the Christian camp, to redeem her son from
his state of captivity. Lockhart is said to have fixed the
price at which his prisoner should ransom  himself; and
the lady, pulling out a large embroidered purse, proceeded to tell down the ransom, like a mother who pays little
respect to gold in comparison of her son's liberty.  In




THE TALISMAN.                     7;his operation, a pebble inserted in a coin, some say (of
the Lower Empire fell out of the purse, and the Saracen matron testified so much haste to recover it, as gave
the Scottish knight a high idea of its value, when compared with gold or silver.  " I will not consent," he
said, "to grant your son's liberty, unless that amulet be
added to his ransom." The lady not only consented to
this, but explained to Sir Simon Lockhart the mode in
which the Talisiman was to be used, and the uses to
which it might be put.  The water in which it was dipt
operated as a styptic, as a febrifuge, and possessed several other properties as a medical talisman.
Sir Simon Lockhart, after much experience of the
wonders which it wrought, brought it to his own country, an(l left it to his heirs, by whom, and by Clydesdale
in general, it was, and is still, distinguished by the name
of the Lee-penny, from  the name of his native seat
of Lee.
Tile most remarkable part of its history, perhaps, was,
that it so especially escaped condemnation when the
Church of Scotland chose to impeach many other cures
which savoured of the miraculous, as occasioned by sorcery, and censured the appeal to them, " excepting only
that to the amulet, called tile Lee-penny, to which it
had pleased God to annex certain healing virtues which
the church did not presume to condemn."  It still, as
has been said, exists, and its powers are sometimes resorted to.  Of late, they have been chiefly restricted to
the cure of persons bitten by mad dogs; and as the illnless in such cases firequently arises from  imagination,
there can be no reason for doubting that water which has
been poured on the Lee-penny furnishes a congenial
cure.
Such is the tradition concerning the Talisman; which
the author has taken the liberty to vary in applying it to
his own purposes.
Considerable liberties have also been taken with the truth
of history, both with respect to Conrade of Montserrat's
life. as well as his death.  That Conrade, however, was




8                 INTRODUCTION  TO
reckoned the enemy of Richard, is agreed both 1n history and rolnance.  The general opinion of the, ttl'lllr
upon which they stood, may be g'uessed fromn tile proposal of the Saracens, that thle Marquis of Mlontserrat
should be invested with certain  par'ts of Syria, whicl
they were to yield to the Clhristians.  Richard, according to the romance which bears his naine, " could no
longer repress his fury.  The AMarquis, lie said, was a
traitor, who had robbed the Knights I-ospitallers of sixty
thousand pounds, the present of his fitther, Henry; tlhat
he was a renegade, whose treachery had occasionedl the
loss of Acre  and lie concluded by a solemn oatlh, tlhat
lie would cause him  to be drawn  to  pieces by wild
horses, if he should ever venture to pollute the Christian camp by his presence.  Philip attenmpted to intercede in favour of the Marquis, and throwilng downl his
glove, offered to become a pled(re for his fidelity to the
Christians; but his offer was rejected, and lie xwas obliged
to give way to Richard's impetuosity."-Iiistory  oJ
Chivalry.
Conrade of Montserrat makes a considerable figure in
those wars, and was at length put to death by one of the
followers of the Selieik, or Old AM-an of the Mountain:
nor did Richard remain free of the suspicion of having
insti,,ated his death.
It may be said, in general, that most of the incidents
introdluced in the following tale are fictitious; and that
reality, where it exists, is only retained in the charactels
of the piece.
l St July, 183g.




APPENDIX
TO
INTRODUCTION.
H H ILL warring in the Holy Land, Richard  was seized
with an ague.
The best leeches of the  camp were  unable  to  effect
the cure of the  Kingr's disease; but the  prayers of the
army were more successful. He became convalescent,
and the first symptom  of his recovery was a violent longing for pork. But pork was not likely to be plentiful
in  a country whose  inhabitants  had  an  abhorrence  for
swine's flesh; and
-"  though his men should be hanged,
They ne migliht, in that countrtey,
For gold, tie silver, n;e nlo money,
No pork find, take, Ine get,
T'lhat King Rlicihard might atlglit of eat.
An old klinglit withl Iticlard biding,
When lie he eard of that tiding,'Tha'it le kingis wants were swyche,'To the steward he spake privylicheOur lord the king sore is sick, I wis,
After porck he alonged is;
Ye may none find to selle;
No maln be lhardy him so to telle!
If lhe did he milght dic.
Now behoves to done as I shall say,
Tlho' lie wete noulght of that.
Tl'ke a Saracei. yoonng  anid fat;
In Iha.ste let. the thief lie slain,
Opened, and his skinl off flayn;
Andl sodden fiill hastily,
Vith powvder and with spicery,
And with safiron of good coioir.
WVhen the king feels thereof savomir,
Out of ague if he be went,
Hie shall have thereto good talent.
When he has a good taste,
And eaten well a good repast,
And supped of the br-ewis' a sup,
Slept after and swet a drop,
Th..:ughl Goddis help and my counsail,
Soon lie shall be fresh anld hail.'
The sooth to say, at wordes few,
Slain and sodden was the heathen shrew.
Before the kitig it was forth brought:
Quod his men, Lord, we have pork sought;
Eates and sups of the brewvis soote,t
Tl;orough grace of God it shall be your boot.
0 Broth.                      t Sweet.




10                       APPENDIX TO
Befi,re King Richard carff a knight,
le ate faster thian he carve might.''lhe kinig ate the flesh and gnewi' the bones,
And! drailk well aftier for the nonce.
And when lie had eaten enough,
His folk hem turned away, and lough.t
He lay still and drew in hiis arm;
His chamberlain hinm wrapped warm.
He lay and slept, and swet a stound,
And became whole and sounld.
King Richard clad him and arose,
And walked abouten in the close."
An attack of the Saracens was repelled by Richart
in person, the consequence of which is told in the follow
ing lines.
When King Richard had rested a whyle,
A knight his arms'gani unilace,
Himn to comfort and solace.
Him was brought a sop in wine.'The head of that ilke swine,.That I of ate!' (the cook he bade,)' For feeble I am, and faint and mad.
Of mine evil now I am fear;
Seive me therewith at my soupere!'
Quod the cook, I'That head I ne have.'
Then said the kin,,' So God me save,
But I see the hea~ of that swine,
For sooth, thou shalt lesen thine!'
T'Ihe cook saw nione other might be;
He fet the head and let hint see.
He fell on knlees, and made a cry-' Lo, here the head! my Lord, rnercy!7'"
The cook had certainly some reason to fear that his
mnaster would  be  struck with horror at the  recollection
of the  dreadful banquet to which he owed his recovery,
but his fears were soon dissipated.
" The swarte uist when the king seeth,
His black beard and white teeth,
How his lip es grinned wide,' What devil is this?' the king cried,
And gani to laugh as he were wode.' What! is Saracen's flesh thus good?
That, never erst I nought wist!
By God's death and his uprist
Shall we never die for default,
While we may in any assault,
Slee Saracens, the flesh may take,
And seethen and roasten anid do hem tdke,
[And]  Gnawen her flesh to the bones!
Now I have it proved once,
For hltnger ere 1 be wo,
I and niy fblk shall eat mo!''
The  besieged  now   offered  to  surrender, upon  c.onGnawed.             t I,allghed.         B$ lack face.




INTRODUCTION.                               1,litions of safety to thie inhabitants; while  all the public
treasure, military maclines, and armns, were  delivered to
the victors, together with the further ransom  of one hunJIred thousand bezants.   After this capitulation, the following extraordinary scene took place. We shall give it
In the words of the humorous and amiable George Ellis,
the collector and the editor of these romances.
"Though  the  garrison  had  faithfully performed  the
other articles of their contract, they were unable to  restore  the  cross, which  was  not  in  their possession, and
were therefore  treated by the Christians with  great cruelty.   Daily  reports  of their sufferings were  carried to
Saladin;  and  as  many  of them nwere  persons  of the
hlighest distinction, that  monarch, at the solicitation  of
their friends, despatched  an  embassy to King  Richard
with magnificent presents, which lhe offered  for the ranscm   of the  captives.   Thle  aml)assadlors  were  persons
the most respectable firom  their age, their rank, and their
eloquence.   They  delivered  tlheir  messae  in  terlns of
tlhe utnmost humility, and, without arraining  the justice
of the conqueromr in his severe treatinent of tlheir countrymen, only solicited  a  period  to  tlhat severity, laying  at
his feet tile  treasures  withl  wvlich  they   were  intrusted,
and pledg   ing r  themr selves and  their master for the  payment of anlly fIrtllr sumls whlich ht might demand as the
price of Ilelrcy.
"!<iin i Richard spake with utortdes mild,
"'lth -,l(t;,, t;kte. (te,(( ine sshield!l
A1o!-1', p(rI ttii.'s evrry chl;are.
I Ir(zlihl in shiiljcs andt il Iarge,
MAltir -ol  t,ii silvr witlil tie,
ITha' lis yzir Ihrf. z;ial smilke three.'', Ihis tre;isllr lhave I 1, lneed!
Itut tir  ms  l, tI v(1  b(1  ld,
l4) Izeat;t ith li(' htIil  se zi'twti
AaidI a't;trdlrl I -hall Voll I-11'
l'lt.ortlit- c*[ lscttl I siMll vyma anlsuwr,,'hat lzid,"t ye shall hi,'5,!, hoit bear.':' Tle  i;'it;ationl was  ilrattillv ac'cel)te-.     Ri&lJard, in
the  rlneia:tillife,(ave secret or(tlrs to  lis mnaLIr[al  t:at  ti:!sh1(oul  riclair  t.  thle  iprison, select a  ce.tL.n  mltiln ber o(
the iliost (listilrguisledfl capltives, amid, after carefiillyr,t);imln
* Divide.                         t Message.




12                   APPrlNDIX 1TO
their names on a roll of parchment, cause their heads to
be instantly struck off; that these heads should be delivered to the cook with instructions to clear away tile
hair, and, aftel boiling them  in a caldron, to distribute
them on several platters, one to each guest, observing to
fasten on the forehead of each the piece of parchment
expressing the name and family of the victim.
" An hot head bring me beforn,
As I were well apayed withall,
Eat thereof fast I shall;
As it were a tender chick,
To see how the others will like."
"This horrible order was punctually executed.  At
noon the guests were summnoned to wash by the tltusic
of the waits; the King took his seat, attended by the
principal officers of his court, at the high table, and the
rest of the company were marshalled at a long table below him.  On the cloth were placed portions of salt at
the usual distances, but neither' bread, wine, nor water.
The ambassadors, rather surprised at this omission, but
still free from apprehension, awaited in silence the arrival
of the dinner, which was announced by the sound of
pipes, trumpets, and tabours; and beheld, with horror
and dismay, the unnatural banquet introduced by the
steward and his officers.  Yet their sentiments of disgust and abhorrence, and even their fears, were for a
rime suspended by their curiosity. Their eyes were
fixed on the King, who, without the slightest change of
countenance, swallowed the morsels as fast as they could
be supplied by the knight who carved them.
" Every man then poked other;
They said,' This is the devil's brother,
That slays our men, and thus hem eats!'
"Their attention was then involuntarily fixed on the
smoking heads before them; they traced in the swollen
and distorted features the resemblance of a friend or near
relation, and received from the fatal scroll which accompanied each dish the sad assurance that this resemblance
was not imaginary. They sat in torpid silence, anticipating their own fate in that of their countrymen, while
their ferocious entertainer, with fury in his eyes, but with,
courtesy on his lips, insulted them by frequent invitations




INTRODUCTIO'.                                13
to melriment.  At length thlis first course was renoved, allnd
it, place supplied by venison, cranes, and other dainties.
accompanied by the richest wines.   The King then apologized to them  for what had passed, which he attributed to
his ignorance of their taste; and assured them  of his religious respect for their character as ambassadors, and of
his readiness to grant them  a safe conduct for their return.
This  boon was all that they now  wished to claim; and
"King Richard spake to an old man,' Wenades honme to your Soudan!
His melancholy that ye abate;
And says that ye came too late.
Too slowly was your time v-guessed;
Ere ye came, the flesh was dressed,
That men shoulden serve with me,'lnhus at noon, and my meynie.
Say him, it shall him nouglht avail,
Though lie fobr-bar us our vitail,
Bread, wine, fish, flesh. salmon and conger;
Of us none shall die with huniger,
While we may weden to fight,
And slav the Saraceiis downright,
Wash thle flesh, and roast the iiead.
With oo'* Saracen I niay well feed
\Vell a nine or a ten
Of my good Christian men.
King Richlardl shall warrant,
There is no flesh so nourissant
Unto an Enllish  mnai,
Partridge, plover, lleron, ne swan,
Cow le ox, sheep nle ssine,
As the head of a Saralzyn.
There lie is fat, and ttiereto tender,
Anid Inv men be leasn and slender
While any Saracen quick be,
I.ivand lno  in this Syrie,
For meat will we nothlliur care.
Abouten iast we shall fare.
And every day we shall eat
All so imanay as we may Oet.
To England will we  oulght gon,
['ill they be eaten every one.'
ELtI.IS's Specimenes of Early En2glisht Meteical
RonLances, vol. ii. p. 236.
The reader may be curious to know owing to  hllia
circumstances so extraordinary an invention as. that whlicl
imputed cannibalism  to the King of England, should hlave
found its way into his history.   Mr. James, to whom  we
owe so much  that is  curious, seems to  have traced  the
origin of this extraordinary rumour.
* One.
VOL UI




14         A1PPENDIX TO INTRTODUCTION.
" With the army of the cross also was a nmultitu de (o
nen," the same author declares, " who made it a profession to be without money; they walked  barefoot,
carried no arms. and even preceded the beasts of burden
In their march, living upon roots and herbs, and 2 resenting a spectacle both discgusting and pitiable.
"A  Nor-an, who according to all accounts was of
noble birth, but who, having lost his horse, continued to
follow  as a fbot soldier, took the strange resolution of
putting Iimself at the head of this race of vagrabonds,
7 who willingly received him as their king.  Amongst the
Saracens these men became well-known under the name
of Thafurs, (whllich Guibert translates T'l'rdentes,) and(
were beleld with great horror fi'om  the general persuasion that they fed on the dead bodies of tlheir eiieniies; a report which was occasionally justified, and
whlich the king of the Thafilrs took care to encoura(e.
Thllis respectable monarch was firequently in the habit of
stoppling his followers, one by one, in a narrow defile,
and of' causing themrl  to be searchled carefully, lest the
possession of the least sum of money shoulld render them
unworthy  of the name of his subjects.  If even two
sous were found upon any one, lie was instantly expelled
the society of his tribe, the kinll bidding hinl contemptuously buy armns and fighllt.
"Thlis troop, so far from  being c-,umbersome to the
army, was infinitely serviceable, carryitng burdens, bringing in foragre, provisions, and tribute; w-orking the machines in thle sieges, and, above all, spreading consternation among tile Turks, who I(lared death firom the lances
of thle knillhts less than tlhat fiurtlher consummation they
heard of under the teeth of the TlJafilrs."*'
It is easy to conceive, that an ignorant minstrel, finding t)he taste and ferocity of the Tlalfurs cominenmorated
in tihe historical accounlts of the Holy rwars, hlas ascribled
tl:eir plractices andt propensities to tthe dMonarch  cf Eng,land, whose feroeity was consid(ered as an cbject of exaggeration as legitimlate as his valour.
* James's Illstory w, Chivalry, p. 178.




TALES OF TIHE CRUSADERS,
TALEoI 11.
THE1 TALISMAN.
CJlAPTERI  I.' —— Ihey, lto retired
To the wilderness, but'twas with arms.
i'aradise Reained.
TIlE blurning sun of Syria lhad  not yet attained  it.
hilest point in tile hlorizon, wlien a knighlt of tile RedcrIoss, wllo l;adl left his distant nortliern liome, and joined  the Ilost of tile crllsaders in Palestine, was pacing
slowly  alondy tile sanlyt)' deserts which] lie in tile vicinity
of tile P(ead Sea, or, Ias  it is called, tile Lake Asphallites, whJere tile waves of tile Jorida(l pour thle-mselves
into all illiand seal, firoil whlicl there is no discharge ol
waters.''llhe warlike iilgrim hlad toiled among cliffs and precipices d(urin, tile earlier part of tile morning; more
lately, issuing friom  tllose rocky and  dangerous defiles,
lie had entered  UIpon that great lplain, where thie  accursed cities provoked, in ancient days, the direct and
dreadful vengeance of the Omnipotent.
The toil, the thirst, tile dangers of the way, were forgotten, as tile traveller recalled  the fearful catastrophe.
whiclh had converted into an arid and dismal wilde:ness
the fair and fertile valley of Siddim, once well Watered,




4           TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
even as the Garden of the Lord, now a parched and
blighted waste, condemned to eternal sterility.
Crossing him-self, as he viewed the dark mass of roiling -waters, in colour as in quality unlike those cf every
other lake, tihe traveller shuddered as he rememblered,
that beneath these sluggish waves lay the once proud
cities of the plain, whose grave was dug by the thunder of the heavens, or the eruption of subterraneous
fire, and whose remains were hid, even by that sea which
holds no living fish in its bosom, bears no skiff on its
surface, and, as if its own dreadfuil bed were the only
fit receptacle for its sullen waters, sends not, like other
lakes, a tribute to the ocean.  The whole land around,
as in the days of Moses, was " brimstone and salt; it
Is not sown, nor beareth, nor any grass groweth thereon;"
the land as well as the lake imight be termed dead, as
producing nothing having resemnblanc e to vegetation, and
even the very air was entirely devoid of its ordinary
winged inhabitants, deterred probably by the odour is
bitumen and sulphur which the burning sun exhaler;
from the waters of the lake, in steaming clouds, frequently assuming the appearance of water-spouts.  3Masses of the slimy and sulphureous substance called naphtha, which floated idly on the sluggish and sullen waves,
supplied those rolling clouds with new vapours, and
afforded awful testimony to the truth of the Mosaic history.
Upon this scene of desolation the sun shone with almost
intolerable splendour, and all living nature seemed to have
hidden itself from the rays, excepting the solitary figure
which moved through the flitting sand at a foot's pace,
and appeared the sole breathing thing on the wide surfacr
of the plain.  The dress of the rider, and the accoutrements of his horse, were peculiarly unfit for the traveller
in such a country.  A coat of linked mail, with long
sleeves; plated gauntlets, and a steel breastplate, had not
been esteemed a sufficient weight of armour; there was
also his triangular shield suspended round his neck, and ihis




THiE TALISMAN.                   5
barred helmet of steel, over which he had a hood and
collar of mail, which was drawn around the warilor's
shoulders and throat, and filled up the vacancy between
the hauhberk and the head-piece.  His lower limbs were
sheathed, like his body, in flexible mail, securing the
legs and thighs, while the feet rested in plated shoes,
whiclh corresponded with the gauntlets.  A long, broad,
straight-shaped, double-edged falchion, with a handle
formed like a cross, corresponded with a stout poniard
on the other side.  The Knight also bore secured to his
saddle with one end resting on his stirrup, the long steelheaded lance, his own proper weapon, which, as he rode.
projected backwards, and displayed its little pennoncelle.
to dally with the faint breeze, or drop in the dead calm.
To this cumbrous equipment must be added a surcoat of
embroidered cloth, much frayed and worn, which was
thus far useful, that it excluded the burning rays of the
sun from the armour, which they would otherwise have
rendered intolerable to the wearer.  The surcoat bore,
in several places, the arms of the owner, although much
defaced. These seemed to be a couchant leopard, with
the motto, " I sleep —wake me not."  An outline of the
same device might be  traced  on  his shield, though
many a blow had almost effaced the painting. The flat
top of his cumbrous cylindrical helmet was unadorned
with any crest.  In retaining their own unwieldy  defensive armour, the northern crusaders seemed to set at defiance the nature of the climate and country to which
they were colle to war.
The accoutrements of the horse were scarcely less
massive and unwieldy than those of the rider. The animal had a heavy saddle plated with steel, uniting in
fiont with a species of breast-plate, and behind with defensive armour made to cover the loins.  Then there
was a steel axe, or hammer, called a mace-of-arms, and
which hung to the saddle-bow; the reins were secured
by chain-work, and the front-stall of the bridle was a
4teel plate, with apertures foir the eyes and nostrils,
18 voi,. if




6             TALES OF TilE  CRUSADERS.
having  in tile midst a short sharp l)ike, projecting fron
the forellead of the horse like the lhorn of thle fa.blous
tlIlicoltn.
But habit had made the enl(lurance of thlis load of
panoply a second nature, both to tile knight and lis gallant cllarger.  Numtbers, indeed, of tlhe  western warriors who Ilurried to P)alestinle, (liedl ere thley l)ecaine ilured to the burnino clitnate j but t        wlere  wvere  otlhers to
whom tlhat climate became innocent aiid evell fiiendly,
allnd -ainong  tlhis fortunate nluliber was tile solitary horseman who now traversed tile border of tile D)ead Sea.
Nature, whclic   cast his )llmbs in a mould of' uncommon stre-irtli, fitted to wear his liniked hlauberl   wiil as
mnich ease as if the meslles had been formied of cobwvebs, lhad endowed himl withl a constititiol  as strong as
his limbs, anil \wh\ich bade defiance to alm1ost all cliaIJges
of climnate, as well as to lati,ue atil privatiois oif every
hin d.  I-is disposition seetned, in somte de!ree, to partake
of the qualities of Ills bodily fralme; ane;   as ie one possessed great strengtlh and endurance, ulited( witl thle p)ower
of violent exertion, the othler,  ndller a calmn an(l tiiidistlurbe(l semblance, had nmuch of thle fiery ald entllllsiastic love of glory whiich constituted tlie ptrincilpal attributte
of the renowned Normnan line, aiid lhad retldered them
sovereimns in every corner of' Eurol)e, whlere they hlad
drawn tlieir adventurous sword-s.
It was not, however, to all tile race thlat fortune  proposed sucli temnpting rewards:; and those obtained by the
solitary knigltt during two years camnpaign il Ptalestin-,
liad been  only temporal fame, and, as 11e \was tatlghlt to
believe, spirittual privileges.  iMeantitme, his slender stock
of money haind meltedl  away, thle rather that lie lid not
pursue any of the ordinary modes by whlich thle followers of the crusade condescended to recruit their diminished resources, at the expense of the people of Palestine; he exacted no gifts fiom tile wretched natives for
sparing their possessions when engaged in warllare wvith the
Saracens, and lie had not availed hiiimnself of any opportunity of enriching himself by tlme ransoln of prisoners olf con



THEI  TAL ISMMAN' 7*
eqilence.  Th'rle snmall train whichl afolt oweCn iha. fronm
his native Couitry, hlad( been trIadually dionini.ished. as t.lihe
nealls of' maintainilig thllle d(i sa}pp)lca't, adll  is ow\n ie1ma.il.int s(lquie w\as at pri'esent onl a sil — iedl, anllld  l;tble
to attend his inaster, who travelled, as Nwe ha\e steen,
singly and alone.  Tiis was of little consequence to the
crusader, whlo xwas accustomed to consider his  good
sword as his safest escort, and devout thoughts a.s his best
com  panion..Ntature had, however, her demands for refreshment
anrl  repose, even on the iron frame anWd patient disposition
of' tle Knight of the Sleeping  Leopard; and at noonl,
wilen the Dead Sea lay at some distanrce on his right, he
j(oyfllly hlailed the sight of two or tlhree palm-trees, whllich
arose beside the well which was assigned for his mid-day
station.  His good horse, too, whllich lhad plodded forward wvith the steady endurance of his master, now lifted,jis head, expanded his nostrils, and qulickened his pace,
as if' lie snlluff   afr otff thle liv illg waters, wllichil iarkled
thle tlace of repose and reflieslhent.  B3tut laboulr and
dlaler w ere doomed to intervene ere tle horse or horseman reached tile desired spot.
As tile }Knighlt of tile (iouchant Leopard  continued to fix  his eyes attentively on thle yet distant cluster of palin-trees, it seemed to him  as if some obiect
w1as mnoving  amonoig tlhemn.  The distant forin  separated itself froill tIle trees, whiclh  partly llid its motions,
and advanced towards thle knight with a speed which soon
slhowed a mounted  lhorseman, whom  his tulrban, long
spear, and green caftan floating in tile wind, on his nearel
approach, showed to be a Saracen  cavalier.  " 11n thle
desert," saith an Eastern  proverb, " no man  meets a
friend."  T'lhe crusader was totally indifferent whethet
the infidel, who now approached on his gallant barb, as
if borne on the wings of an eagle, canie as fiiend or foe
-perhaps,  as a vowed champion of the Cross, lie might
rather have preferred  the latter.  He  disengaged  his
lance from his saddle, seized it with the riglit hand, placed
it it rest with its point half elevated; gathered up the reins




TALES OF'rHE CRUSADERS.
in the left, waked his horse's mettle with the spur, and
ptrepared to encounlter the stranger with the calln selfCuoffidencec, beiongimn  to the victor in many contests.
The Saracen came on at the speedy gallop of an Arab
horseman, managing his steed more by his limbs, and the
Inflection of his body, than by any use'of the reins,
which hung loose in his left hand; so that he was enabled to wield the light round buckler of the skin of the
rlinoceros, ornamented with silver loops, which he wore
on his arm, swin ging it as if he meant to oppose its slender circle to the formidable thrust of the western lance.
His own long spear was not couched or levelled like that
of his antagonist, but grasped by the middle with his
right hand, and brandished at arm's length above his
head.  As the cavalier approached his enemy at full career, he seemed to expect that the Knight of the Leopard should put his horse to the gallop to encounter him.
But the Christian knight, well acquainted with the custorns of Eastern warriors, did not mean to exhaust his
good horse by any. unnecessary exertion; and, on the
contrary, made a dead halt, confident that if the enemy
advanced to the actual shock, his own weight, and that
of his powerful charger, would give him  sufficient advantage, without the additional momentum  of rapid
motion.  Equally sensible and apprehensive of such a
probable result, the Saracen cavalier, when lie had approached towards the Christian within twice the length
of his lance, wheeled his steed to the left with inimitable
dexterity, and rode twice around his antagonist, who,
turning without quitting his ground, and presenting his
front constantly to his enemy, frustrated his attempts to
attack him on an unguarded point; so that the Saracen,
wheeling his horse, was fain to retreat it the distance of
an hundred yards.  A second time, like a hawk attackinga heron,the heathen renewed the charge, and a second
time was fain to retreat without coming to a close struggle.
A third time'he approached in the same manner, when:he C1h11istin knight, desirous to terminate this illusory.P~vfare, i.i which he might at length have been worn oul




THE TALISMAN.                       5
Lv the activ'ty of his foeman, suddenly seized the mace
Which hllung at his saddle-bow, and, with a strong hand
and uncrinign aim, hurled it against the ilead of the Emir.
for such and not less his enemy appeared.  The Saracen
was just aware of the formidable missile in time to interpose his light buckler betwixt the mace and his head;
but the violence of the blow forced the buckler dowan on
hlis turban, and though that defence also contributed to
deaden its violence, the Saracen was beaten  firom his
horse.  Er.e the Christian  could avail himself of this
mishap, his nimble foeman sprullng from the ground, and,
calling on his steed, which instantly returned to his side,
lie leaped into his seat without touching the stirrup, and regained all the advantage of which the Knight of the Leopard hoped to deprive lhim.  But the latter had in the
meanwhile recovered his mace, and the Eastern cavalier,
who remembered the strength and dexterity with which
his antagonist had aimed it, seemed to keep cautiously out
of reach of that weapon, of which he had so lately felt the
force; while he showed his purpose of waging a distant
warfare with missile weapons of his own.  Planting his
long spear in the sand at a distance fiom.the scene of
combat, he strung with great address a short bow, which
hie carried at his back, and putting his horse to the gallop,
once more described two or three circles of a Nwider exterlt than formerly, in the course of which lie discharged
six arrows at the Christian with such unerring skill, that
the goodness of his harness alone saved him Irom being
woulnded inr as many places.  The seventh shaft apparently ifound a less perfect part of the armour, and thle
Christian dropped heavily fiom his horse.  But what was
the surprise of the Saracen, when, dismounting   to examnine the condition of his prostrate enemy, he tound
himself suddenly witthin the grasp of the European, who
had bad recourse to this artifice to bring Iiis enemy with'
in his reach! Even in this deadly tgrapple, the Saracen
was saved by his agility and presence of mind.  lie unloosed the sword-belt, in which the Knight of the Leop~ad had fixed his hold, and thus eluding his fatal grasp




10             TALES OF TIIE CRUSADERS.
mounted his  horse, which  se  r.med to  watch his motionr
w'ithl  thle iltelIillrCeIe  of a hubitnan  bjeiiln,, and a-.;fll rode
afi'.   But inl tIie lalst  neouilltel tlie S-aracell ha1d  lst hi
swordA al,(] liis qtllivere of arrows, both  of wllich were.attacie(ld  to th.e girdle, w\\li1ic   he was obligedt to aliaidon.
lie  i:n(d. also lost  his tutr)(an) in 11c struggle.'T11ese disadlv:nlta_-es s.e)lledl to il!culile the MICosleil  tro a trutce e: ie
all)r()i: lt cl the Cl(listi;li \ withl Iils righlit hlandti extended
but lIi) l)frl-Clr iii a iii'.i;.t ii lttttlitude.
"There is t'i'uce ltet\vixt  our nations," he said, in tllhe
lilnga  firit-llctail t'01I1o1(INl  tS(o:'d t:01r  the  J)tllrp)ose  of CO111inutnitcation wtitll tl'1J cl1tisaders; "' wlere!fre should tihere
be war  betwrixt thle e          aid me?-Let there be peace  betwixt us."
"..;ilt  well    contelnte el," answered lihe of t!ie Colucllant
T.,'eo!ard(l; " buLt walt.security   dost thou otiler tlhat thlou
wilt ohbsev:  thne ti Luce "
"''llt! fThe  o  t of  ll,fol er of tlie Proplaet was  never
b:'rOi)k(!i,'' answer{-l tlhe Em}it'r.  "It is  iIou. brave N;azarenet, ft')iti w\. iti I shtloutld  etina)(nd security,did I nlot know
thlat I easc, n  sel  l nl (111    ells w\itll c.oulage.
1'}lt  crllusadetl  felt, that thie cliefitlence of tlie Moslem
m'naide lil  ashamllled of' his own doublts.
"h',y the cross of my sword," lie said, layin-g his handl
oi tlhec wealol   as lie spoke,'"I will be true (oll';anion
to thiet!,'acel(.t   while our O rtutne wvills thlat we remlain
ill _' Oi11}i-tili  tOgetfilel.:'
B" lA' fllltllllnJtd  PIIj)l1et of Cold, and by Alla.li, God
of thlin (. ropl( t-l,"  I'h:,i icn  l  his  at(. Ite cTiian, " l.tere. is  lot
ltnaclItrya il ill )' hie art towards thlee.   An d no{i w'cliiil we
to ymier 1in    1111i-fluil, I1n' tllhe hour oft rest is at }hatlnd, an-dl
tlIe stl. reun hlad liiid(ly   touchl'ed my  lip when I was called
to bl, ttle tby tlhy aJt)roacli."
1.'le Kl igit of tlle Couchant IJeopard yield(ed a ieadly
and couriteouis assllt; and the late!tes, without an anglry
look' gisture  of (loulbt, rode side  by side  to the little
hlt'ster o f     tpalmd-trees.




TkHE  TALISMAN.                          1
CHAPTER II
TIMFzS of danger have always, and  in a peculi:r (degree, tleir seasons of goodl-will and  of secturity   and
tiis was particulally so  ill the  ancient feudal Cages, ill
whlic1h, as thle  Jm~anners of thle period  had  assigncd war
to be the clhief and most wortlhy occujpation of manlkind,
the intervals Of peace, or rather of truce, were Illily
relisl:e(l  -y ithose lwavrriors to  whom  tlIey were  sel(o0nl
gt':rite(l, }an(l endeared  by the very circumstances -whlich
rendlered  theml  transitory.  It is not worth while  preservintg  any  permanent enmrity  against a foe, whom  a
champion  ias  fouglht with to-(lay, and  may again stand
in blooly  opposition to on the next morning.  The time
and siltiation  afl'rdcd so mutlch roo'0       for tlle ebullition
of violent passions, that men, unless wheI  peculiarly
opposed  to each other, or provoked  bby the recollection
of private tand( individual wrolngs, cheerflly enjoye d  in?achl  othlers society the brief intervals of p)acific intercoUtrse, whlich a warlike lilke adtllitted.
T'ile (distiictilon of reji(io0ns,   iay,  the  fanatical zeal
whllicl aninlcated the tlloiwers ofl the Cross and  of tile
Crescent agailst eacli olherT, was mtuch  solteined by a
feeliilg so  latuLal to genermomis coilibatanis, antl   escs.-eially
clerislleld bv tlle sp)1irit ocf cllivahlr.   T'ills lust strong
ilnIiulsce llad  exten(led  itscl-f (ra lually fr'om  tile C(lristialls to Il(milr mnortal nllcilics tlec Saracens, bo ltl of Spain
anItl of )Palestine.  rT.'e lIatter were indee(l no  onger the
fillaltical savagres,    whlo hind biis-st lIromn tihe centre of Arabiati  lelserls, w\iti tlic salrle  in  one   liandl,   an(d  tile
Koran  in t.lhe olier, o  itict leat  or the!.iit oit'   5MaT
h10inttl, oJ'r, at. thie le;t,  slavery  iul!  tri} tcb,  tlpon  all
whil) Ilar1.d to oplp1)Se lte ll(,,-:ict of thle p)roej)ll o  Mluc..ca.'Il'lcs(e alternalltiv es il( (l e ihad  been oflil'rci  to thef
u\nwarlike Greeks arl(i Syrians; but il con(tending with
tlhe western  Christians, animated  by a zeal as fiery  as




t12         TAL.ES OF THE CRUSADERS.
their own, and possessed of as unconquerab e courag.e,
address, and success in arms, the Saracens gradually
caught a part of their manners, and especially of those
chivalrous observances, which were so well calculated
to charm the minds of a proud and conquering people.
Tiley hlad their tournaments and ganles of chivalry;
they hall even their knights, or some rank analogotus;
aail ab)ove all, the Saracens observed their plighted faith
with-, an accuracy which mighlt sometimes put to shame
those Iwho  owned a better religiol!.'Iheir truces,
whlether national or betwixt individuals, were faithfullly
obserVe.d; and thus it was, that war, in itself perhaps
the gre'atest of evils, yet gave occasion for display of
goodi flith, generosity, clenmency, and even kindly affections, which less firequently occur in more tranquil periods, xhlere the passions of men, experiencing  wrongs
or entertaining quarrels which cannot be brought to
instant decision, are apt to smoulder for a length of time
in the bosoms of those, who are so unhappy as to be their
prey.
It was under the influence of these mnilder feelings,
which soften the horrors of warfare, that the Christian
and Saracen, who had so lately done their best for each
other's mutual destruction, rode at a slow  ptace towards
the fountain of palml-trees, to which the Knight of the
Couchant Leopard had been tending, when interrupted
in mid-passage Iby his fleet and dangerous adversary.
Each was wrapt for some time in his own reflections,
and took breath after an encounter whicth had threatened
to be fatal to one or both; and their good horses seermed no less to enjoy the interval of repose.  Thllat of the
Saracen, however. thou (h he had been fbrced inrto mtch
the more violent an(l extended sphlere of motion, appeared to have suffered less fron fatigue than the charger of the European knight.'T'he swe;alt hung still clarnmmy on the limbs of the last, wlleFrn those of the noble
Aral)b wvere conpletely drlied by the interval of tranquil
exercise, all saving the toam-nflakes wllich wv re still
visible on his bridle and housings.  The loose soil cn




THE TALISMAN.                    13
which he trod so much augmented tile disti uss of the
Christian's horse, heavily loaded by his own arnmour and
the weight of his rider, that thle latter jumped from his
saddle, and led his charger alouni  tlie deep dust of the
loamy soil, which was burnt in the sun into a substance
more impalpable than the finest sand,- anlld thus gave the
faithful horse refrieshmlnt at the expense of his own additioial toil; fbr, iron-sheathed as lie was, lie sunk over
the mailed shoes at every step which h-e placed on a
surface so light and unresisting.
"You are right," said the Saracen; and it was the
first word that either had sp:oken since their truce was
concluded,-"' your strong horise deserves your cal e; but
what do you in the desert with an animal, which sinfks
over the fetlock at every step, as if lie would plant each
foot deep as the root of a date-tree?"
" Thou speakest riglltly, Saracen," said the Christian
knight, not delighted at the tone with which the infidel
criticized his favourite horse,-"' righltly, according to thy
knowledge and observation.  But iny good horse hath
ere now borne me, in mine own land, over as wide a lake
as thou seest yonder spread out behind us, yet not wet
one hair above his hoof."
The Saracen looked at him with as much surprise as
his manners )ermitted }hitl to testify, whlichl was only expressed by a slight approach to a disdaintfil smile, that
hardly curled perceptibly the broad tlick mustache whlich
enveloped his upper lip.
"It is justly spoken," he said, instantly composing
himself to his usual serene gravity. —" list to a Frank,
and hear a fable."
"L Thou art not courteous, misbeliever," replied the
crusader, " to doubt the word of a dubbed knight; and
were it not that -thou speakest in ignorance, and not in
malice: our truce had its ending ere it is well begun.
Thinkest thou I tell thee an untruth, when   say tihat I
oin  of five hundred horseren, armed in compnlete nail
VOL. II.




I            TALES  OF THlE  CRUSADERS.
have ridden —-ay, and  ridden  for miles, upon water as
solid as the crystal, and ten timnes less brittle?"
1' What would';st thlCou tell me?" answered  the Moslem; " yonder inlanld  sea thou (lost point at is peculiar
in this, that, by the  especial curse of God, it sulffereth
nothing to sink  in  its waves, but wafts them  a-way, and
casts thern on its mnargi.; but nleither the Dead Sea, nor
any of the seven oceans which  environ  the  eartll,' will
endure on their surfiLce the  pressure of a horse's foot,
more than the Eted Sea ellduled  to sustain the advance
of Pllaraoh and his host."
You speak truth after your ]nowledge, Saracen," said
the Christian knight; (' and yet, trust  ie, I fable not accolrding to mine.   Heat, in this clinmate, converts the soil
into sonmething     almost as unstable as water; and in my land
colii Often converts the wvater itself into a substance as
hlard as rock.  Let us speak of this no  lollger; for the
thoughts of the cahlm, clear, blue reiulgence of a w-inter's
lake, glimninerillng   to stars antd  mIoonbeamt, aggravate the
lJorrors  of thlis fierly  (e sert,  vliere, mnetlhiJJks  tie very
air vhicll we brea;lthe  is like the vapour of a fiery tfurinac(e sevell tuines ihcate(l.'
The Saracen looked on  him  wvitl} some  attention, as
if to discover in what sense he wlas to'tlderstand words,
wvilich,  to limn,    mu IlIst ilave all)e.aredl   eitller' to  coiitain
soimetllilg of' ny) stery, or of' iill)ositioil.   At lentl  lie
seelle ( deterlminel il ii wlhat  illnanler to receive thle Iangutage of his niew cotnilanion.' You are," lie saitl, " of a nation tlat loves to laglh,
and you ) ake Sl)Ort  withd!-y)nt'selves, and  with otilers,
by telling what is itnp)ossible, aindl   rei)ortiign  wlhat never
cI-ancertd.  Tlc-,  art olte o1' tile, knights oft' Frantce, Vwho
h1old it f6or Otcl  attd Ipstim'e to ga./,* aS they' ter'n1 it, of
explpii ts  t    nIre bIv)' td i"ltluai powver.   I were wrong
to e,'..lllelint',    tIm ul nllm,  l tf'e   p riv'il,:e of tlly speeclh,'ili' f  Im';itl  is,  nOR u)1i(l ll   ( tu whno  tanl mrtmi."' (r;it~r.'',Ii. I'rn:l't  fri.iglit     i;,,rt of,rt.,in, el, Ud IUtl.io  itE
P ri'ch'chivalry. whilh (,misistt in Yv ins withll elaci 0t hr in mkI'ngh n lhe
Qrot romantic'gasconades.'Ihe verb and the meaning-, are retain;td ir
%;'ottijih




TIHE TALISMAN.                    1' am  not of their land, neither of their fashion,'
d t.! the Knight, " whllich is., as tllou well sayest, to gab
l' ttlat whicll tthey dare not undertake, or undertakirng
canllllOt p)eltect.  But in this I have iinitated their folly,
brave Saracen, that in  talking  to thee of what thou
elt'st not coinpreliend, I have, even in speakinl,  liost':)iI)le truth, ful1ly incurred the character of a b)raggart
in thy eyes- so, I pray you, let my w-ords pass."
Thley  had now arrived at the liknot of I)altn-trees, and
rlie fbointain which welled out from beneath their shade
in sp)arkling ptroilUsion.
We have spoken of a moment of truce in the midst of
war; and this, a spot of beauty in the midst of a sterile desert, was scarce less dear to the imagination.  It
was a scene which, perhaps, would elsewhere have deserved little notice; but as the single speck, in a boundless horizon, which promised the refreshment of shade
and living water, these blessings, held cheap where they
are common, rendered the fountain and its neighbourhood a little paradise.   Some generous or charitable
hand, ere yet the evil days of Palestine began, had walled in and arched over tile fountain, to preserve it from
being absorbed in the earth, or choked by the flitting
clouds of dust with which the least breath of wind covered the desert.  The arch was now broken, and partly
rulinlOus; but it still so far projected over, and covered
in the fountain, that it excluded the sun in a great measure from its waters, which, hardly touched by a straggling beanm-, wlile all around was blazing, lay in a steady
repose, alike delightfil to the eye and the imagination.
Stealing friom under the arch, they were first received
in a marble basin, much dlefaced indeed, but still cheeririg thle eye, byr slhowilng tlhat tle place was ancieintly considered as a station. tllat the hand of man had been there,
and thlat lmal's accornmmodlation had been in sonme measure attended to.  Tlhe thirsty and weary traveller was
reminded by these signs, that others had suffered  similar difficulties reposed in the same spot. and, doubtless.
frc.nd their way in safety to a more fertile country.




16          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Again, the scarce visible current which escaped frorm
the basin, served to nourish the few  trees which surrounded the fountain, and where it sunk into the ground
and disappeared, its refreshing presence was acknowledged by a carpet of velvet verdure.
In this delightful spot the two warriors halted, and
each, after his own fashion, proceeded to relieve his horse
firom saddle, bit, and rein, and permitted the animals to
drink at the basin, ere they refreshed themselves from
the fountain head, which arose under the vault.  They
then suffered the steeds to go loose, confident that their
interest, as well as their domesticated habits, would prevent their straying from the pure water and fresh grass:.
Christian and Saracen next sat down together on the
turf, and produced each the small allowance of store
which they carried for their own refieshment.  Yet, ere
they severally proceeded to their scanty meal, they eyed
each other with that curiosity which the close'and doubtful conflict in which they had been so lately engaged
was calculated to inspire. Each was desirous to measure the strength, and form some estimate of the character, of an adversary so formidable; and each was coinpelled to acknowledge, that had he fallen in the conflict.
it had been by a noble hand.
The champions formed a striking contrast to each other
In person and features, and might have formed no inaccurate representatives of their different nations.  The
Frank seemed a powerful man, built after the ancient
Gothic cast of form, with light brown hair, which on the
removal of his helmet, was seen to curl thick and profusely over his head.  His features had acquired, fiorm
the hot climate, a hue much darker than those parts of
his neck which were less frequently exposed to view, or
than was warranted by his full and well opened blue eye,
the colour of his hair, and of the mustaches which thickly shaded his upper lip, while his chin was carefully
divested of beard, after the Norman fashion.  His nose
was Grecian and well formed; his mouth rather large in
proportion. but filled with well-set, strong, and beautifully




T.E TALISMANL.                     17
white teeth; his head small, and set upon the net,k with
much  grace.  His age could not exceed thirty, but it
the effects of toil and climate were allowed for, might
be three or four years under that period.  His form was
tall, powerful, and  athletic, like that of a man whose
strength  might, in later life, become  unwieldy, t)ut
which was hitherto united with lightness and activity.
His hands, wlien he withdrew the mailed gloves, were
long, tair, and well-proportioned; the wrist-bones pecuiharly large and strong; and the arms remarkably
well-shaped and brawny.   A  military hardihood, and
calreless frankness of' expression, characterized his language and his motions; and his voice had the tone of
on  mirore accustomred, to command than to obey, and
who was in the habit of expressing his sentiments aloud
and boldly,wwhenever he was called  upon to announce
the n.
The Saracen Emir formed a marked and striking contrast with the western crusader.  Hiis stature was indeed
above the niddile size, but he was at least three inches
shorter than the European, whose size approached the
gigantic..His slender limbs, and long spare hands and
arms, though   vell proportioned to his person, and suited
to the style of his countenance, did not at first aspect
promise the displaS   of vigour and elastictiy which the
Emir had lately  exhibited.  But on looking lnore closely,
his limbs, where exposed to view, seemed divested of all
that was fleshv or cumtbersome; so that nothing being
left but bone, Ibrawn, and sinew, it was a firamne fitted for
exertion and fatigue, far beyond that of a bulky champion,
whose strength and size are counterbalanced by weight,
and who is exhausted by hlis own exertions.  The counte
nance of the Saracen naturally bore a general national resemblance to the eastern tribe fromr  whom he descended,
and was as unlike as possible to the exaggerated terms in
whichl the mninstrels of the (lay woere wont to represent the
nfidel chlampions, and the fabulou, description which a sis-er art still presents as the Saracen's head upon sign-posts
VOL. II.




18            TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
[-lis features  were  small,  well-formed, and  delicate:
tIJoi1til d1 eejit  e!labrcowneil iby Ilie easteril stin, aral{(  terrmi a ted(i lb  a. flowlrilg aad  e(lie le! black beard, whlich
sec(tlilt  ti1irrinet    \ ill pculiar care.   Tlie nose was
strailht antl re Iulir, tit- eyes keell, tce,-set, bla ck1,  andl
glo(witg, n11d -iis teeth equalled  ill beanity thie  ivor y of
his dlse rts.    The per son aa1d proportiolns of tlIe Sar ate'l, irln shil(rt  tretclled on the turl'f near to his tc.\x)-riul
antagonist, Ini llt have been comtplaured to hlis sieeivy and
clc:rrt-ltormned sabre,   with  its ilarr'ow  aid!lirtr biit
brihbt cand keen D)allnsculss  blad1e,  c(ntlTrastei tI trle
long aind ponderous Gothic war-sword wvlich was  luang
uln)luckled on the sa.irne sod.  The Emir was int tlthe very
flower of Ils a-e, and mnioht perhlapg ha-ve been terjrned'
eminently beautifuil, but foir the narrowness of his forehlead,  and something of too muIcl  tlIinness and sharpness
of feature, or at least whiat tmlit hiave seeimed such in
a European estimate of beauty.
Trhe  manners of' tlre  Eastern  warrior were grave,
graceful, and  decorovus; indicating,  however, in  some
particulars, thle  habitual restraint which  men of warmn
arid  choleric  temper's often set as ar guard  upon  their
natiNve impetuosity of disposition, and at tile same timne
a sense of his own dignity, which  seemed to impose a
certain formality of belha viour in him  who enltertairned it.
This ha.t gllty fleling of superiority was perhaps equally
entertained by hirs inew European acquaintlan(ce, 1b)t the
effiect was diffierent; and the same feeling, which dictated
to the Christian kmight a bold, blunt, and somewhat careless bearing, as one too conscious of his own importance
to be anxious about the opinions of others, appeared to
prescribe to the Saracen a style of courtesy more studiously alid formally observant of ceremony.  Bioth were
courteous; but thle courtesy of the Christian seemenid to
flow rather from a good-huMrouro ed sense of w ihat was dlto
to others; that of the Mosleml, from  a high  fe-elin-g of
what was to be expected fiom himself.
Tlhe provision which each had made for his refreshment
was simple, btt the meal of the Saracen Xwas abstemious




THE  TALISMAN.                    15
A handful of dates, and a morsel of coarse barley —bread,
sufficed to relieve the hunger of the latter, whose education had habituated  himn to tile fare of' the desert, althougl-l, since their Syrian conqulests, the Arabian simnplicity of life frequently gave place to thle most unbounded
profusion of luxury.  A  few  draughts fiorn the lovely
fountain by which they reposed  completed his meal.
That of the Christian though coarse, was more genial.
Dried  hog's-flesh, the abomination  of the Moslenah,
was the chief part of his repast; and his drink, derived
from a leathiern bottle, contained somnethiing better than
pure element.  He fed with more display of appetite,
and drank with more appearance of satisfaction, than the
Saracen judged it'ecoming to show in the performance
of a  mnere bodily flnction; and), doubtless, the secret
contempt which each entertained for thle other, as the follower of a false religion, was cornsiderably increased( by
the markedl difference of their diet and manners.  Bull
each had found the weight of his opponent's arm, and the
inutual respect which the bold struggle had created, was
sufficient to subdue other and inferior considerations.
Yet the Saracen could not hell) remarkling the circumstances which (lispleased him in thle Christian's conduct
and manners; and, after he had witnessed for some time
in silence the keen appetite which protracted the klnight's
banquet ]ong after his own was concluded, he thus addressed hin:" V.aliant Nazarene, is it fitting that one who can fight
like a manl should feed like a dlog or a wolf?  Even a
misbelieving Jew would shudder at thle food which you
seem  to eat, with as n-tmuch relish as it' it were fi'uit from
the trees of Paradise,"'' Valianlt SaraLel)," answered the Christian, looking tip
tvitli somne surprlise at tile accusation thus unexpectedly
brought, "l know thou tllat I exercise my Clhristian:reedoll, in ursing thallt \llici is folrbidden 1 tthe Jews, being,
as thev esteem tllhetlselves, nitier the bondlage of the old
law of' Moses.  We, Saraceln, be it knlown to thee, hlave
a better warrant for whlat we (do-Ave  larlia!-  e we
th}ankfiul.'  And, as if' iil d(eii;ince of his companill'l S




TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
scruples, he concluded a short latin grace with a lonP
draught from tile leathern bottle.
"'lThat, too, you call a part of your liberty," said the
Saracen; " and as you feed like the brutes, so you degrade yourself to tlie bestial condition, by diinking a
poisonous liquor whicll even they refuse!'
"Know, foolish Saracen," replied the Christian, without hesitation, " that thou blasphemest the gifts of God,
even with the blasphemy of thy father Ishmael.  The
juice of the grape is given to him that will use it wisely,
as that which cheers the heart of man after toil, refrieshes
him in sickness, and comnforts him in sorrow.  He who
so enjoyeth it may thank God for his wine-cup as for his
daily breadl; and he who abuseth the gift of H eaven, is
not a greater fool in his intoxication than thou in thine
abstinence."
The keen eye of the Saracen kindled at this sarcasm,
and his hand sought the hilt of his poniard.  It was but
a momentary thought, however, and died away in the
recollection of the powerfiul champion with whom lie had
to deal, and the desperate grapple, tile imprllession of
which still throbbed in his limbs and veins; and he contented himself with pursuing the contest in colloquy, as
more convenient for the time.
" Thy words," he said, " O Nazarene, might create
anger, did not thy ignorance raise compassion.  Seest
thou not, 0 thou more blind than any Nwho asks alms at
tlhe door of tile Mosque, that the liberty thou dost boast
of is restrained even in that whllich is dearest to man's
happiness, a-ind to his household; and that thly law, if thou
dost practise it, binds thee in marriag e to one single mate,
I e she sick or healthy, be she frilitful or barren, bring she
c;onfort and joy, or claloullr an(l strife, to thy table and
to thy b[ed? This, Nazarene, I (1o indeed call slavE:ry;
wtlereas, to the faithlllfl,  hatlh the Prophlct assignld upon
earth the patriarchal privileges of.A ralhami  ou'r father
and of Solomon, the wisest of mankind, hlaving givep us
liere a succession of beauty at our pleasure, and beyonrd
thle grave the black-eyed houris of Paradise."




THE TALISMAIN.                      21
" NTow, by His name that I most reverence ill Hen re.,'
sail the Christian, " and by hers whom I most worslhip
oil earth, t.lou art but a blinded and a bewildered infidel!
— That diamond signet, which thou wearest on thy finger, t.hou holdest it, doulbtless, as of inestimable value?"
"Balsora and Bagdad cannot show the like," replied
the Saracen':    Lut what avails it to our purpose?"'Much,'7 replied the Frank, "c as thlOll shalt thyselh
confess.  Take my war-axe, and dash the stone into
twenty shivers; —would each fragment be as valuable as
the original gem, or would they, all collected, bear the
tenth part of its estimation?"
" That is a child's question," answered the Saracen;
" the fragments of such a stone wotld not equal the entire jewel in the degree of hundreds to one."' Saracen," replied the Christian warrior, " the love
which a true knight binds on one only, fair and faithilful,
is the gem entire; the affection thou flingest among thy
enslaved wives, and half-wedded  slaves, is worthless,
comparatively, as the sparkling shivers of the broken
diamond."
6Now, by the Holy Caaba," said the Emir, " thou
art a madman, who lhugs his chain of iron as if it were
of gold! Look more closely.  This ring of mine would
lose half its beauty were not the signet encircled and enchased with these lesser brilliants, wnich grace it and set
it offi  The central diamond is 1mlan, fi  and eiltire, his
value depending on himself alone; and tilis circle of
lesser jewels are women, borrowin  lliis Ilustre, which he
deals out to thlem as best sltits lhis plleastre or his convenien-ce.  Take the central sltonc from tle signet, and
the diamond itself remains as valuable as ever, while the
lesser gemrs are colnparatively of little valule.  And this
is the true reading of thy parable; frl, what sayeth the
poet lMansour:' It is the favour of nmlan which giveth bealuty3 and comeliness to woman, as the stream glitters no
longer when the sun ceaseth to shine.' "
Saracen," replied the Crusader,' thou speakcst like
oqie who never saw a woman worthy the affection of a
soldier.  IBelieve me, conlid'st t hou looik  lnDon tthose oi




TALES OF TI-LE CRUSADERS.
Europe, to whoIn, after Heaven, we of thie order oft kni,,t
[hood vow fealty and devotion, thou would'st loathe for
ever the pool' selnsual slaves who form thy haram.  The
beauty of our fair ones gives point to our spears, and
edge to our s~words; tllheir words are our law; and( as
soon will a lalnp she(d lustre wllen unkindled, as a knight
distinguish himself by feats of arms, having no mistress
of his affection."
"I have heard of this frenzy among the warriors oi
lhe west," said the Elnir, " and have ever accounted it
one of the accompanying symptoms of that insanity, which
brings you hither to obtain possession of an empty sepuIchre.  But yet, inethinks, so highly have the Franks
whom I have inet with extolled the beauty of their w\omen, I could be xwell contented to behold with mine own
eyes those charms; which can transform such brave war.
riors into the tools of their pleasure."
6' Brave Saracenl," said the Knight, " if I were not
on a pilgrilnage to the Holy Sepulchre, it should be my
pride to conduct yoUt, on assurance of safety, to the camp
of Richard of England, than whom none knows better
how to do llonotur to a Iloble foe; and though I be poor
and unattended, yet I have interest to secure for thee, or
any such as thou seenest, iiot safety only, but respect
and esteem.  There shopild'st thou see several of the
fairest l)eauties of [Frasnce and 3Britain form a simall circle, the brilliancy of which exceeds ten-thousand fold
tihe Ilstre of lninles of tdialnol(ls such as thine."
" Now, by the corner-stone of the Caaba!" said the
Saracen, " I will accept thy invitation as freely as it is
given, il tlhou wilt postpone thy present intent; and,
credit me, brave Nazarene, it wTere better for thyself to
turn back. ttiy horse's head toward(s the camp of thy people, for, to travel towards Jerusalemn without a passport,
is but a wilful casting away of thy life."
" I have a pass," answered the Knight, producing a
parchinemtl,' under Saladine's hand and signet."
The Saracen bent his head to the dust as he recogniized thle seal anO'lall(l-writing of the renowned Soldan




THE TALISMAN..3
of Egypt and Syria; and having kissed the paper vxith
profound respect, he pressed it to' his forehead, then returned it to the Christian, saying,.  "Rash Frank, thou
lhast sinned against thine own blood and mine, for not
showing this to me when we met."': You came with levelled spear,' said the Knight;' had a troop of Saracens so assailed me, it mighlt have,tood with mny honour to have shown the Soldan's pass,
but:it never to one man."' And yet one mnan," said the Saracen, haughtily,
"was eno-,,gh to interrupt yolur journey."
True, brave Moslem," replied the Christian; " but
th;lere are f'ew such as thou art.  Sucll falcons fly not in
ldo;cks, or, it' they do, they pounce not in numbers upon
one.t"
" Thou dost us but justice," said the Saracen, evidently gratified by the compliment, as he had  been
touched bv the implied  scorn of the European's previous boast; " Irom us thou should'st have hi-ad no wrong;
butl; well was it for me that I failed to slay thee, with
thle safeguard of the king of kings lupon thy person.
C(ertain it were, that the cord or the sabre had justly
avenged s uch guilt."
c' I am glad to hear that its influence shall be availing
to mne," said the. Knight; " for I have heard that the
road is infested with robber-tribes, who regoard nothing
in comparison of an opportunity of plunder."
" TFle truth has been told to thee, brave Christian,"
said the Saracen; " but I swear to thee, by the turban
of the Prophet, that should'st thou miscarry in any haunt
of such villains, I will myself undertake thy revenge
Vwithl five thousand horse: I will slay every male of them,
and send their women into such distant captivity, that
the nanme of their tribe shall never again be heard within five hundreil miles of Damascus.  I will sow with
salt the foundations of their village, and there shall never
live. th1ing-i- dwveil thlere, even fron tihat timer forwardl."'i  had rather the trouble whiich you design bor yourself,
were in reveine of sonle otlier more imrportanlt lp rson tian




2I4         TALE1S OF TrIIE CeUSAt);RS..
of me, noble Emir," replied the Knigllt; "' but my vow Is
recorded in Heaven, for good or for evil, and I rnusc be
indebted to you f1or pointing me out the way to my resting-place for this evening."
"That," said the Saracen, " must be under the black
covering of my father's tent."
" This night," answered the Christian, " I must pass
in prayer and penitence with a holy mlan, Theodoric of
Engaddi, who dwells amongst these wilds, and spends
his life in the service of God."
"  w ill at least see you safe thither." said the Saracen.
" That would be pleasant convoy for me.," said the
Christian, " yet might endanger the future security oi
the good father; for the cruel hand of your people has
been red with the blood of the servants of the Lord,
and therefore do we come hither in plate and mail, with
sword and lance, to open the road to the Holy Sepulchre, and protect the chosen saints and anchorites who
yet dwell in this land of promise and of miracle."
" Na~zarene," said the Moslem, " in this the Greeks
and Syrians have much belied us, seeing we do but after
the word of Abubeker Alwakel, the successor of the
Prophet, and, after him, the first commander of true
believers.' Go forth,' he said,' Yezed Ben Sophian,'
when he sent that renowned general to take Syria from
the infidels,' quit yourselves like men in battle, but
slay neither the aged, the infirm, the women, nor the
children.  Waste not the land, neither destroy corn and
fruit-trees, they are the gifts of Allah. Keep faith when
you have made any covenant, even if it be to your own
harm.  If ye find holy men labouring with their hands,
and serving God in the desert, hurt them not, neither
destroy their dwellings.  But when you find them with
slhavee cro wns, they are of the synagogue of Satan!
smite with thle sabre, slay, cease not till they becomne
believers or tributaries.'  As the Caliph, companion of
the Prophet, hath told us, so hlave we done, and those
vlhom- our ijustice has smitten are but the priests of Satani.  But unto tlhe good men who, without stirring u




THE TALISMAN.'5:;inriomq lo'ainst ntation, worship sincerely in thr- faith ol
Issa lieln Mariatn, we are a shadow and a shiel; and
such being he whomn you seek, even though the'light of
tile Propliet hath inot reached him, firom rme lhe will only
have love, favour, and retard."
" Tl'he anchorite whom  I would now visit,' said the
warlike pilgrim, " is, I have hear(l, no priest; but were
he of that anointed and sacred order,'I would prove with
my good lance, against paynim and infidels'
" Let us not defyt each otlher, brother," interrupted
the Saracen; " we shall finel, either of us, enough of
Franks or of M oslemah on whom to exercise both sword
and lance.  This Theodoric is protected both by Turk
and Arab; and, thoughl  one of strange conditions at intervals, yet, on the whole, lie bears  linlself so well as
the follower of' his own prophet, that lie imerits the protection of him who was sent -  "
" Now, by, Our.ady, Saracen," exclairned the Christian, " if thou darest namle in tlle same breath, the
camlel-driver of Mlecca withl   "
An electrical shloc'k of passion thrilled tlhrough the forrn
of the Emir; but it was only llomentary, and the ca]lmness of his reply had both digniity and reason in it, when
he said, " Slander not himn whom- thou kn]owest not; the
rather that we venerate the founder of thy reiigion, wlhile
we condemn the doctrine wthich your priests have spun
from  it.  I wvill lmyself guide thee to the cavern of thle
hermnit, which, methlinks, wvitlout nmy help, thou would'st
find it a hard mlatter to reach.  And, on the way, let
us leave to mollabhs and  to monks, to dispute about
the divinity of our faith, and speak on themes which
belong to youthfuitl  warriors,    upon  battles upon
beautiful woemen, upon sharp swords, and urp\n bright
a'motlr."
VOl,. I.,




26           TALES OF THE  CRUA DIER.,.
CHAPTER MII.
tiuE warriors arose firom their place of brief rest andl:;ilnple refireshment, and courteously aided each other
while they carefully rep)laced.and adjusted tlle harnless,
firom  which they had relieved  for the time their trusty
steeds.   Each seemed  familiar with an employment,
whlich at that time was a. part of necessary, and, indeed,
of indispensable duty.  Ealch also seemed to possess, as
far as the difference betwixt the animal and rational species admitted, the confidence and afiection of the horse,
whllich was the constant compantion of his travels and his
warflare.'With the Saracen thlis fatiiiar intimacy was a
part of hlls early habits; for, in the tents of the Eastern
military tribes, the horse of the soldier ranlks next to,
and almost equal in importance witld, his wifie and his
fallily; and, with the European warrior, (ircuumstances,
and indeed necessity, rendered  his war-horse scarcely
less tlhan his brother-in-arms.   The steeds, therefore,
suffered themnselves iuiietly to be taken ftron  tlheir food
and liberty, and neighed and snuffled fondly around tlheir
masters, while they weere adjusting thdei   ( accoutrent ents
for falther travel and additiolal toil.  And eachl warrior,
as he prosecuted his own task, or assisted with courtesy
his comlpanion, looked withi observant curiosity at the
equipments of his Iellow-traveller, and noted particularly
what struck him as peculiar in the fashion in which he
arranged his riding accoutrements.
Ere they remounted to resume  their journey, the
Christian knight again moistened his!ips, a;id dipt his
hiands in the living fountain, and said to his Pagan associate of the journey-" I would I knewv the name ot
1tis delicious fountain, that I might hold it in my grateIlil relnmembrance: for never did watecr slake mrore de



TIlE  TALISMAN.                    27
ciously a more oppressive thirst than I nave this day experienced."
"It is called in. the Arabic languag e," answered the
iaracen,' "by. a nanie which signifies tile Diamond  of
the l)esert."
"And well is it so named," replied the Cllhristian. " My
nstive  valley llath a tIlousali( sptrings but not to one of thler
shall I attach lIhereafter suchlo  prec}ious  recolletionl as to
this solitary fount, wlhichl bestovs its liquid treasures where
they are notonly deliglltfiul, but nearly indlispensable."
N' You say truth," said the Saracen;' for the curse is
still on yonder sea of deatlh, and neither man  nor beast
irink oft its waves, nor1 of the rivet which fkeeds Wsitlhottt
fitliug  it, ulntil this inllospitable desert be passed."
They mounted and pursued their journey across the
s.tm(ndi  waste.  The ardour of noon was now t)past, anod a
biglt breeze somewhat alleviated tile terrors of the desert,
thlough not without bearing on its wings an inmpaipable
(dust, whlich the Saracen little heeded, though his heavilv-armed companion felt it as such an annoyance, that
lie hung 1his iron casque at his saddle-bow, and stibstitutedi the light riding cap, termed in the language of the
tiune a mortier, foinom  its resemblance in slla.pe to an ordinary mortar.  They rode together for soine tinre in
silence, the Saracen performning the part of director lanli
gu!ide of the journey, which he did by observing minute
miarks and bearings of the distant rocks,  to a  ridg'e oi
lwhichli  they were gradually approaching.   For a little
tilme lie seemed  absorbed in the task, as a pilot when
navigating a vessel through a difficult channel; but they
nad not proceeded half a league when lie seemed secure
of his route, and disposed, with more firankness than was
usual to his nation, to enter into conversation.
" You have asked tile name," lie said, C of a mute
fountllln, wliich hatil the semblance, but not the reality,
of a living thing.  Let  e lie e  ardoned to ask the name
of the companion with whom 1 have thiis day encountered, both in danger and in repose, anrd which I cannot
fancy unknown, even here among the deserts of Palestine?"




28          TALES OF THE CRUTSADERS.
" It is not yet worth publishing," said the Chr-istialn.
Know, nowever, that amnong the soldiers of the (Cross
I anm called Kenneth-Kenneth of the Couching Leoi,ard; at home I have other titles, but they. would sound
harsh in an Eastern ear.  Brave *Saracen, let me a;sk
whicll of tile tribes of Arabia claims your descent, and
by what name you are known?"
"' Sir Kenneth," said the IMoslem, "1 joy that your
niame is sucl as my lips can easily utter.  For me, I
aml no Arab, yet derive my descent firom a line neither
less wild nor less warlike.  Know, Sir Knight of the
Leopard, that I am  Slleerkohf, the Lion of the Mountain, and that Kurdistan, from which I derive my descent,
holds no family more noble than that of Seljook."
"' I have heard.," answered the Christian, " that your
great Soldan clailns his blood froom tile same source?"
"' Thanks to thle Prophet, that lath so fiar honoured
our mountains, as to send from their bosom Him whose
word is victory," answered tlle Paynim.  " I am but as
a worm befOre tile King of Egypt arid Syria, and( yet in
mly owvn land somethilg   my name may avail.-Strarger,
with how  mlany tmen didst thou come on this warfare?"
": By my faith," said Sir Kennetll, " with aid of friends
and kinsmen, I was hardly pinclled to fiurnish forth ten
well-appointed lances, with maybe some fifty more men,
archers and varlets included.  Some have (leserted mly
unlucky pennon-sorne have fallen in battle-several
t.ave died of disease-and  one trusty armour-bearer,.or whose life I am  now  doing my pilgrimage, lies on:he bed of sickness."
" Christian," said Sheerkollf, " here I have five arrows in my quiver, each feathered from  the wving of an
eagle.  Wlien I send one of themn to my tents, a tllousa'dld warriors mount on horseback  when I send another, an equal force will arise-for the five, 1 can command five thousand men; and if I send my bow, ten
thousand mounted riders will shake the desert.   And
with thy fifty followers tlhu hast come to invade a land,
in wvlich I am one of the meanest!'9




THE TALIS-LAN.                29' Now, by the rood, Saracen," retorted the western
warrior, "' thou should'st know, ere thou vauntest thyself,
that one steel glove can crush a whole handful of hornets."
" Ay, but it must first inclose them within its grasp,"
said the Saracen, with a smile which might have endangered their new alliance, had he not changed the subject by adding, "And is bravery so much esteemed
amongst the Christian princes, that thou, thus void of
means, and of men, canst offer, as thou didst of late, to be
my protector and security in the camp of thy brethren?"
" Know, Saracen;" said the Christian, " since such is
thy style, that the name of a knight, and the blood of a
gentleman, entitle him to place himself on the same rank
with sovereigns even of the first degree, in so far as regards all but regal authority and dominion. Were Richard of England himself to wound the honour of a knight
as poor as I am, he could not, by the law of chivalry,
deny him the combat."
" Methinks I should like to look upon so strange a
scene," said the Emir, "in which a leathern belt and
a pair of spurs put the poorest on a level with the most
powerful."
"' You must add free blood and a fearless heart," said
the Christian; " then, perhaps, you will not have spoken
untruly of the dignity of Knighthood."
" And mix you as boldly amongst the females of your
chiefs and leaders?" asked the Saracen.
" God forbid,"' said the Knight of the Leopard, "' that
the poorest knight in Christendom should not be free, in
all honourable service, to devote his hand and sword,
the fame of his actions, and the fixed devotion of his
heart, to the fairest princess who ever wore coronet oil
her brow."'" But a little while since," said the Saracen, " and you
described love as the highest treasure of the heartth.ne hath undoubtedly been high and nobly bestowed?"
"Stranger," answered the Christian, blushing deeply
as he spoke  "s we tell not raslhly where it is we have
19 VOL. II.




30           TALES 0I; THE  CRUSADERS.
bestowed our choicest treasures-it is enough for thee
to know, tllat, as thou sayest, my love is llighlly and nobly bestotved — iost highly —lost nobly; but it' thlou
would'st hfear of love and broken lances, venture tlihself,
as tlou sayest, to the camp of tile crusaders, and thou
wilt flincl exercise for thine ears, and, if thou wilt, for
thy liands too."
Tile Eastern warrior, raising himself in his stirrups,
and slihaking aloft his lanlce, repliedl  " Harldly, I fealr,
shall I find one witll a crossed slloidldel, Mwlo will exchange with me the cast of the jerril.''
"c I will not promise for that," replied the Knight,
" thoughl there be in the camp certain Spaniards, who
have right good skill in your eastern game of hurling the
javelin."
"Dogs, andl sons of dogs!" ejaculated the Saracen;
" what have these Spaniards to do to come hithltr to
combat the true believers, who, in their own land, are
their lords and taskmasters? with them I would mix in
no warlike pastime."
" Let not the knights of Leon or Asturias hear you
speak thus of them," said the Knight of the Leopard;
" but," added he, smiling, at the recollection of the
morning's combat, " if, instead of a reed, you were
inclined to stand the cast of a battle-axe, there are
enougil of western warriors who would gratify your
longing."
" By the beard of my father, sir," said the Saracen,
with an approach to laughter, "' the game is too rough
for mere sport-i will never shun them  in battle, but
my head" (pressing nis hand to his brow) " will not, for
a while, permit me to seek them in sport."
" I would you saw the axe of King Richard," answered the western warrior, " to which that which hangs al
my saddle-bow weighs but as a'feather."
" XWe hear much of that Island sovereign," said the
Saracen, " art thou one of his subjects?"
"One of his followers I am, for this expedition," answered the Knight. " and honoured in the service; blt




THE TALISMAN.                   31 
not born his subject, although a native of the island in
which he reigns."
1" How mean you?" said the eastern soldier; " have
you then two kings in one poor island?"
" As thou sayest," said the Scot, for such was Sir
Kenneth by birth,-" It is even so; and yet, although the
inhabitants of the two extremities of that island are engaged in frequent war, the country can, as thou seest,
fiurnish forth such a body of men-at-arms, as may go far
to shake the unholy hold which your master hath laid on
the cities of Zion."
" By the beard of Saladin, Nazarene, but that it is a
thoughtless and boyish folly, 1 could laugh at the simplicity of your great Sultan, who comes hither to make
conquests.of deserts and rocks, and dispute the possession of them with those who have tenfold numbers at
command, while he leaves a part of his narrow islet, in
which he was born a sovereigni to the dominion of
another sceptre than his.  Surely, Sir Kenneth, you and
the other good men of your country should have submitted yourselves to the dominion of this King Richard,
ere you left your native land, divided against itself, to
set forth on this expedition?"
Hasty and fierce was Kenneth's answer.  " No, by
the bright light of Heaven! If the King of England
had not set forth to the crusade till he was sovereign of
Scotland, the crescent might, for me, and all true-hearted
Scots, glimmer forever on the walls of Zion."
Thlls far lie had proceeded, when, sulddenly recollecting himselfI he nMuttered, ":.l:ca cutlpa! mea cullt!
what have 1, a soldier of the Cross, to do with recollection of war betwixt Christian nations!"
The rapid expression of feeling corrected by the dictates of duty, did not escape the Moslem, whlo, if he
(lid not entirely understand all which it conveyed, samx
enough to convince himn with the assurance, that Chris.
tians, as well as MIoslemah, had private feelings of pet
sonal pitjue, and national quarrels, which were not en
tii-ely reconcilable.  But the Saracens were a race, pol



32         TALES OF THE CRUSADEIRSa
ishled, perhaps, to the utmost extent which tieir religin
perlitted, and particularly capable of entertaining high
ideas of courtesy and politeness; and such sentiments
prevented his taking any notice of the inconsistency oi
Sir Kenneth's feelings, in the opposite characters of a
Scot and a crusader.
Meanwhile, as they advanced, the scene began to
change around them.  They were now turning to the
eastward, and had reached the range of steep and barren hills, which binds in that quarter the naked plain,
and varies the surface of the country, without changing
its sterile character.  Sharp, rocky eminences began to
arise around them, and, in a short time, deep declivities
and ascents, both formidable in heighlt, and difficult from
the narrowness of the path, offered to the trav.ellers ob
stacles of a different kind from those with which they
had recently contended.  Dark caverns and chasms
amongst the rocks, those grottoes so often alluded to in
Scripture, yawned fearfully on either side as they proceeded, and the Scottish knight was informed by the
Emir, that these were often the refuge of beasts of
prey, or of men still more ferocious, who, driven to desperation by the constant war, and the oppression exercised by the soldiery, as well of the Cross as of the
Crescent, had become robbers, and spared neither rank
nor religion, neither sex nor age, in their depredations.
The Scottish knight listened with indifference to the
accounts of ravages committed by wild beasts or wicked
men, secure as he felt himself in his own valour and
personal strength; but he was struck with mysterious
dread, when he recollected that he was now in the awful
wilderness of the forty days' fast, and the scene of the
actual personal temptation, wherewith the Evil Principle
was permitted to assail the Son of Man.  He withdrew
his attention gradually from the light and worldly conversation of the infidel warrior beside him, and, howevei
acceptable his gay and gallant bravery would have renlered him as a companion elsewhere, Sir Kenneth felt
as if, in those wildernesses-the waste and dry places —




TIE TALISMAN.                   33
in which the foul spirits were wont to wander when expelled the mortals whose forms they possessed, a barefboted fiiar would have been a better associate than the
gay but unbelieving Paynim.
These feelings embarrassed him;' the rather that the
Saracen's spirits appeared to rise with the journey, and
because the farther he penetrated into the gloomy recesses of the mountains, the lighter became his conversation, and when he found that unanswere(l, tile louder
grew his song.  Sir Kenneth knew enough of the east~ern languages, to be assured that the enchanted sonnets
of love, containing all the glowing praises of beauty, in
which the oriental poets are so fond of luxuriating, and
which, therefore, were peculiarly unfitted for a serious
or devotional strain of thought, the feeling best becoming the Wilderness of the Temptation.  With inconsistency enough, the Saracen also sung lays in praise of
wine, the liquid ruby of the Persian poets, and his gaiety at length became so unsuitable to the Christian
knight's contrary train of sentiments, as, but for the
promise of amity which they had exchanged, would most
likely have made Sir Kenneth take measures to change
his note.  As it was, the Crusader felt as if he had by
his side some gay licentious fiend, who endeavoured to ensnare his soul, and endanger his immortal salvation, by
inspiring loose thoughts of earthly pleasure, and thus
polluting his devotion, at a time when his faith as a Christian, and his vow as a pilgrim, called on him for a serious and penitential state of mind.  He was thus greatly
perplexed, and undecided how to act; and it was in a
tone of hasty displeasure, that, at length breaking silence, he interrupted the lay of the celebrated Rudpiki,
in which lihe prefers the mole on his mistress's bosom to
all the wealth of Bokhara and Sarnarcand.
" Saracen," said the Crusader, sternly,' blinded as thou
art, and Jplunged amidst the errors of a false law, thou
sliouldst yet comprehend that there are some places more
holy than others, and that there are some scenes also,
in which the Evil One hath more than ordinary poweI




34          TALES o' T'HE CRUSAbERW.S.
over sinful mortals.  I xwill not tell thee for' what  w!ul
reason this place —these rocks —these caverns withl tl)eir
gloomy arches, leading as it were to the central abyssare held at. especial haunt of Satan and his angels.  It
is enough, that I have been long warned to beware of
this place by wise and holy men, to whom  the qualities
of tile unholy region are well known.  Wherefore, Saracen, forbear thy foolish and ill-timed levity, and turn
thy thoughts to things more suited to the spot; although,
alas, fbr thee! thy best prayers are but as blasphemy
and sin."
The Saracen listened with some surprise, and then
replied, with good-humour and gaiety, only so far repressed as courtesy required, "' Good Sir Kenneth, methinks you deal unequally by your compalnion, or else
ceremony is but indifierently taughlt amongst your western tribes.  I took no offience when I saw you gorge
hog's-flesh and drink wine, and permitted you to enjoy
a treat which you called your christian liberty, only pitying in my heart your foul pastimes-Wherefore, then,
shlould'st thou take scandal, because I cheer, to the best
of my power, a gloomy road  with a cheerful verse?
Whlat saith the poet-' Song is like the dews of Heaven
on tile bosom of the desert; it cools the path of the
traveller.' "
" Friend Saracen," said the Christian, " I blame not
the love of minstrelsy and of the gai scien.ce; albeit we
yield unto it even too mucIh roo0m in our thougilts whern
they sllould be bent on better things.  But prayers and
holy psalms are better fitting than lais of love, or of
wine-cups, when men walk in this Valley of thle Shadow
of Death, full of fiends and demons, whom the prayers
of holy men have driven forth from  the haunts of hlu.
minanity to wander amidst scenes as accursed as themselves."
" Speak not thus of the Genii, Christian," answered
the Saracen, "1 for know, tllou speakest to one whose
line and nation drew tlheir origin from the immortal race
which your sect fear and blaspheme."




THE TALISMAKN                     35
" 1 well thought," answered the crusader, " that your
blinded race had their descent firom the foul fiend, without whose aid you would never have been able to maintain this blessed land of Palestine against so many valiant soldiers of God.  I speak not thus of thee in particular, Saracen, but generally of thy people and religion.  Strange is it to me, however, not that you should
have the descent fi'om the Evil One, but that you should
boast of it."
" From  whom should the bravest boast of descending, saving firom hitn that is bravest?" said the Saracen;
"i fiom whom should the proudest trace their line so well
as from the Dark Spirit, which would rather fall headlong by force, than bend the knee by his will? Eblis
may be hated, stranger, but he must be feared; and
sucll as Eblis are his descendants of Kurdistan."
Tales of magic and of necromancy were the learning
of tlhe period, aind Sir Kennetll hIeard his companiol's
confession of' diabolical (lescent witllout any disbelief, and
withiout rucl wollnder; yet not %without a secret shludder
at finding llimself in this learlill pllace, in the compl)any
of one who avouchled Illinsell' to belong to such a lineage.
Naturally unsusceptible, however, of fear, he crossed
himself, and stoutly demanded of the Saracen an account of the pedigree which he had boasted.  The latter readily complied.
Know, brave stranger," lie said,'that when the
cruel Zohauk, one of the descendants of Giamnschid,
held the throne of Persia, he formed a league with the
Powers of Darkness, amlidst the secret vaults of Istakliar, vaults which the hands of the elementary spirits
lad hewn out of the living rock long before Adam himself had an existence.  Here he fed, with daily oblations of human blood, two devouring serpents, which had
become, according to the poets, a part of himself, and
to sustain whom  he levied a tax of daily human sacrifices, till the exhausted patience of his subjects caused
3ome to raise up the scimitar of resistance, like the valunt blacksl ith, and?le victorious Feridoun, by whon




36          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
the tyrant was at length dethroned, and imprisoned for
ever in the dismal caverns of the mountain Damavend.
But ere that deliverance had taken place, and whilsi
the power of the blood-thirsty tyrant was at its height,
the band of ravening slaves, whom he had sent forth to
purvey victims for his daily sacrifice, brought to the
vaults of tile palace of Istakhar seven sisters so beautiful, that they seemed seven houris.  These seven maidens were the daughters of a sage, who had no treasures
save those beauties and his own wisdom.  The last was
not sufficient to foresee this misfortune, the former seemed ineffectual to prevent it.  The eldest exceeded not
her twentieth year, the youngest had scarce attained her
thirteenth; and so like were they to each other, that
they could not have been distinguished but for the difference of height, in which they gradually rose in easy
gradation above each other, like the ascent which leads
to the gates of Paradise.  So lovely were these seven
sisters when they stood in the darksome vault, disrobed
of all clothing saving a cymar of white silk, that their
charms moved the hearts of those who were not mortal.
Thunder muttered, the earth shook, the wall of the vault
was rent, and at the chasm entered one dressed like a
hunter, with bow and shafts, and followed by six others,
his brethren.  They were tall men, and though dark,
yet comely to behold, but their eyes had more the glare
of those of the dead, than the light which lives under
the eyelids of the living.'Zeineb,' said the leader of
the band,-and as he spoke he took the eldest sister by
the hand, and his voice was soft, low, and melancholy,
-' I am Cothrob, king of the subterranean world, and
supreme chief of Ginnistan. I and my brethren are o.
those, who, created out of the pure elementary fire, disdained, even at the command of Omnipotence, to do
homage to a clod of earth, because it was called Man.
Thou mayst have heard of us as cruel, unrelenting, and
persecuting.  It is false.  We are by nature kind and
generous; only vengefuil when insulted, only crulel when
iffronted.  We are true to those whc. trust us; and we




THE TALISMAN.                   3 
[lave heard the invocations of thy father, the sage Mithrasp, who wisely worships not alone the Origin of Good,
but that which is called the Source of Evil.  You and
your sisters are on the eve of death; but let each give
to us one hair from your fair tresses, in token of fealty,
and we will carry you many miles from hence to a place
of safety, where you may bid defiance to Zohauk and
his ministers.' The fear of instant death, saith the poet,
is like the rod of the prophet Haroun, which devoured
all other rods, when transformed into snakes before the
King of Pharaoh; and the daughters of the Persian sage
were less apt than others to be afraid of the addresses of
a spirit.  They gave the tribute which Cothrob demanded, and in an instant the sisters were transported to an
enchanted castle on the mountains of Tugrut, in Kurdistan, and were never again seen by mortal eye. But in
process of time seven youths, distinguished in the war
and in the chase, appeared in the environs of the castle
of the demons.  They were darker, taller, fiercer, and
more resolute, than any of the scattered inhabitants of
the valleys of Kurdistan; and they took to themselves
wives, and became fathers of the seven tribes of the
Kurdmans, whose valour is known throughout the universe."
The Christian knight heard with wonder the wild tale,
of' which Kurdistan still possesses the traces, and, after
a moment's thought, replied, "Verily, sir knigl-t, you
have spoken well-your genealogy may be dreaded and
hated, but it cannot be contemned.  Neither do I any
tonger wonder at your obstinacy in a false faith; since
doubtless it is part of the fiendish disposition which hath
descended from your ancestors, those infernal huntsmen,
as you have described them, to love falsehood rather
than truth; and I no longer marvel that your spirits become high and exalted, and vent themselves in verse and'in tunes, when you approach to the places encumbered
by the haunting of evil spirits, which must excite in you
VOL.'1.




38            TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
that joyous feeling  which others experience, when at)
proaching the land of their human ancestry."
"By my fatther's  beard, I thing thou hast the right,'
said  the Saracen, rather amused  than offended  by the
freedom  with which the Christian had uttered his reflections; " for, though the Prophet (blessed be his name )
hath sown amongst us the seed of a better faith than our
ancestors learned in the ghostly halls of Tugrut, yet we
are not willing, like other Mllosleallh, to pass hasty doom
on the lofty and powerfil elementary  spirits from  whom
we claim  our origin.  These Genii, according to our belief and hope, are not altogether reprobate, but are still
in the way of probation, and may hereafter be punished
or rewarded.  Leave  we this to  the mollahs and the
imaums.  Enough  that with us the reverence for these
spirits is not altogether effaced by what we have learned
from  the Koran, and that many of us still sing, in  memorial of our father's more ancient faith, such verses as
these."
So saying, he proceeded to chant verses, very ancient
in the language and structure, which some have thought
derive their source frorn the worshippers of Arimanes,
the Evil Principle.
AHIRIMAN.
Dark Ahriman, whom Irak still
Holds origin of woe and ill!
When, bending at thy shrine,
We view the world with troubled eye,
Where see we'neath the extended sky,
An empire matching thine!
If the Benigner Power can yield
A fountain in the desert field,
Where weary pilgrims drink;
Thine are the waves that lash the rock,
Thine the tornado's deadly shock,
Where countless navies sink!
Or if He bid the soil dispense
Balsams to cheer the sinkix ensense,




THE TALISMAN.
How few can they deliver
From lingering pains, or panr iltense,
Red Fever, splotted Pestilence,
The arrows of thy quiver!
Chief in Man's bosom sits thy sway,
And frequent, while ill words we pray
Before another throne,
Whate'er of spacious form be there,
The secret mneaning of the prayer
Is, Ahriman, thine own.
Say, hast thou feeling, sense, and form,
Thu'inder thy voice, thy garments storm
As Eastern Magi say;
With sentient soul of hate and wrath,
And wuings to sweep thy deadly path
And fanlgs to tear thy prey?
Or art thou mix'd in Nature's source,
An ever-operating force,
Colnvertillng good to ill;
An evil princil)le ininate,
Conltendillg with our better fate,
And oh v! ictorious still I
i-Towmc'er it be, dispute is vain,
On all %without thou hold'st thy reign,
Nor less on all within;
EY.ach mortal!passion's fierce career,
Love, hate, ambition, joy, and fear,
T'ihou goadest into sil.
Whene'er a sunny gleam appears,
To brighten up our v.ale of tears,
Thou art tnot distant far;'Mid such brief solace of our lives,
Thou whett'st our very banquet-knivep
To tools of death and wvar.
Thus, from the moment of our birth,
Long as we linger on the earth,
Thou. rul'st the fate of men;
Thine are the pangs of life's last hrt.




40             TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
And-who dare answer?-is thy power,
Dark Spirit! ended THEN'?
These verses may  perhaps have been the not unnatural effusion  of some half-enlightened  philosopher, who,
in the fabled deity,  Arimanes, saw  but the  prevalence
of moral and physical evil; but in the ears of Sir Kenneth of the Leopard, they had a different efBect, and,
sung as tlhey were by one who had just boasted himself
a descendant of demons, sounded very  like  an  address
of worship to the arch-fiend himself.   He weighed within himself, whether, on  hearing  such  blasphemy  in the
very desert where Satan had stood rebuked for demanding homage, taking an  abrupt leave of the Saracen was
sufficient to testify his abhorrence; or whether he was not
rather constrained by his vow as a crusader, to defy the
infidel to combat on the spot, and leave him  food for the
beasts of the wilderness, when his attention was suddenly caught by an unexpected apparition.
The light was now verging low, yet served the knight
still to discern that they two were no longer alone in the
forest, but were  closely  watched  by a figure  of great
height and very thin, which skipped over rocks and bushes
with so much agility, as, added to the wild and hirsute
appearance of the individual, reminded him  of the fauns
and  sylvans, whose  images he had  seen in the ancient
temples of Rome.   As the  single-hearted  Scotchman
had never for a mnoment doubted  these gods of the ancient Gentiles to be actually  devils, so he now  hesitated
not to believe that the blasphemous hymn of the Saracen
had raised up an infernal spirit.
The worthy and learned clergyman, by whom this species of hymn has
keen translated, desires, that. for fear of' misconception, we should warn the
reader to recollect, that it is composed by a heathen, to whom the real causes ol
moral and physical evil are unknown, and who views their predominance in the
system of the universe, as all must view that appalling fact, who have not the
benefit of the Christiai Revelation. On our own part, we beg to add, that we
inderstand the style of the translator is more paraphrastic than can be approved
by those-who alre acqulinted with the singularly curious original. The translator seems to have delspaired of i endering iito English verse the flights of 0 r.ientapoet!ry, and, }1ussiblv. like many learned and ingenious men, findingi it imp,,ssible
ctiscm'er'the sense of the orig'nal. lie masy have tacitly substituted his oan




THE TALISMAN.                   41
".But what recks it!" said stout Sir Kenneth to llimself;'; down with the fiend and his worshippers!"
He did not, however, think it necessary to give the
same warning of defiance to two enemies, as he would
unquestionably have afforded to one. His hand was upon his mace, and perhaps the unwary Saracen would have
neen paid for his Persian poetry, by having his brains
dashed out on the spot without any reason assigned for
it; but the Scottish knight was spared from committing
what would have been a sore blot in his shield of arms.
The apparition, on which his eyes had been fixed for
some time, had at first appeared to dog their path by
concealing itself behind rocks and shrubs, using those
advantages of the ground with great address, and surmounting its irregularities with surprising agility.  At
length, just as the Saracen paused in his song, the figure,
which was that of a tall man clothed in goat-skins, sprung
into the midst of the path, and seized a rein of the Saracen's bridle in either hand, confronting thus and bearing back the noble horse, which, unable to endure tile
manner in which this sudden assailant pressed the longarmed bit, and the severe curb, which, according to the
eastern fashion, was a solid ring of iron, reared upright,
and finally fell backwards on his master, who, however,
avoided the peril of the fall, by lightly throwing himself
to one side.
The assailant then shifted his grasp from the bridle of
the horse to the throat of the rider, flung himself above
the struggling Saracen, and, despite of his youth and activity, kept him undermost, wreathing his long arms above
those of his prisoner, who called out angrily, and yet
half-laughing at the same time-" Hamako-fool-unloose me-this passes thy privilege-unloose me, or I will
use my dagger."
"Thy dagger!-infidel dog!" said the figure in the
goat-skins, " hold it in thy gripe if thou canst!" and in
an instant lie wrenched the Saracen's weapon out of it.'
owlnel's hand, and brandished it over his head
vo)l. II.




~12          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"  lelp,'Nazarene!" cried Sheerkollf, now seriously
alarlned; " help, or the Hamako will slay me."
" Slay thee!" replied tile dweller of the desert; " and
well hast thou merited death, for singing thy blasphemous
hymnas, not only to the praise of thy false prophet, wvho
is the foul fiend's harbinger, but to that of the Author oi
Evil himself."
The Christian knight had hitherto looked on as one
stupified, so strangely had this rencontre contradicted, in
its progress and event, all that he had previously conjectured.  He felt, however, at length, that it touched his
honour to interfere in belalf of his discomfited comnpanion; and therefore addressed himself to the victorious
figure in the goat-skins.
"Whosoe'er thou art," he said,'" and whether of
good or of evil, know that I am sworn for the timle to ~be
trlue companion to the Saracen whom tllou holdest under
thee; therefore, I pray thee to let him arise, else I will
do battle with thee in his behalf."
"And a p)roper quarrel it were," answered the Hamako,
" for a Crusader to do battle in —for the sake of an unbaptized dog to combat one of his own holy faithll  Art
thou come forth to the wilderness to figlht for tile Crescent
against the Cross? A goodly soldlier of God art thou, to
listet to those who sing the praises of Satan!"
Yet, while he spoke thus, he arose himself, and, suffering the Saracen to arise also, returned him his cangiar,
or poniard.
" Thou seest to what a point of peril thy presumption
blath brought thee," continued he of the goat-skins, now
addressing Sheerkohf, " and by what weak means thy
practised skill and boasted agility can be foiled, when such
is Heaven's pleasure. Wherefore, beware, 0 Ilderim!
for know that, were there not a twinkle in the star of thy
nativity, which promises for thee something that is good
and gracious in Heaven's good time, we two had not parted till I had torn asunder the throat which so lately
trilled forth blasphemies."




THtr TALISMAN.                 43
" lHamako," said the Saracen, without any appearance
of resenting the violent language, and yet more violent
assault, to which he had been subjected, " I pray thee,
good Hlamalko, to beware how thou dost again urge thy
privilege over far; for though, as a good Moslem, I respect those whom heaven hath deprived of ordinary reason, in order to endow them with the spirit of prophecy,
yet I like not other men's hands on the bridle of my
horse, neither upon my own person.  Spealk, therefore,
what thou wilt, secure of any resentment from'me; but
gather so much sense as to apprehend, that if thou shalt
again proffer me any violence, I will strike thy shagged
head fiom thy meagre shoulders.-And to thee, friend
Kenneth," he added, as he remounted his steed, "1 must
needs say, that, in a companion through the desert, I love
friendly deeds better than fair words.  Of the last thou
hast given me enough; but it had been better to have
aided me more speedily in my struggle with this Hanmako,
who had well nigh taken my life in his frenzy."
" By my faith," said the Knight, " I did somewhat
fail-was somewhat tardy in rendering thee instant help;
but the strangeness of the assailant, the suddenness of
the scene-it was as if thy wild and wicked lay had raised the devil among us-and such was my confusion,
that two or three minutes elapsed ere I could take to my
weapon."
" Thou art but a cold and considerate friend," said
the Saracen; " and, had the Hamako been one grain
more frantic, thy companion had been slain by thy side,
to thy eternal dishonour, without thy stirring a finger in
his aid, although thou satest by, mounted, and in arms."
" By my word, Saracen," said the Christian, " if thlou
wilt have it in plain terms, I thought that strange figure
was the devil; and being of thy lineage, I knew not what
family secret you mlight be commurnnicating to each other,
as you lay lovingly rolling together on the sand."
"Thy gibe is no answer, brother Kenneth," said the
Saracen; " for know, that had my assailant been in




44          TALES OF THE 9IUSADERS*
very deed the Prince of Darkness, thou wert bound na.d
the less to enter into combat with him in thy comrade's
behalf.  Know, also, that whatever there may be of foui
or of fiendish about the Hamako, belongs more to your
lineage than to mine; this Hamako being, in truth, the'inchorite whom thou art come hither to visit."
" This!" said Sir Kenneth, looking at the athletic yet
wasted figure before him-" this!-thou mockest, Saracen-this cannot be the venerable Theodoric!"
" Ask himself, if thou wilt not believe me," answered
Sheerkohf; and ere the words had left his mouth, the
hermit gave evidence in his own behalf.
" I am Theodoric of Enlgaddi," he said -" I am the
walker of the desert-I am firiend of the cross, and flail
of all infidels, heretics, and devil-worshippers. Avoid
ye, avoid ye!-Down with Mahound, T'ermrnagaunt, and
all their adherents!"-So saying, he pulled from under
his shaggy garment a sort of flail or jointed club, bound
with iron, which he brandished round his head with sin..
gular dexterity.
" Thou seest thy saint," said the Saracen, laughing,
for the first time, at the unmitigated astonishment with
which Sir Kenneth looked on the wild gestures, and
heard the wayward muttering of Theodoric, who, after
swinging his flail in every direction, apparently quite reckless whether it encountered the head of either of his
companions, finally showed his own strength, and the
soundness of the weapon, by striking into fragments a
large stone which lay near him.
" This is a madman," said Sir Kenneth.
" Not thee worse saint," returned the Moslem, speaking according to the well-known Eastern belief, that madmen are under the inflience of immediate inspiration.
" Know, Christian, that when one eye is extinguislhed,
the other becomes more keen-when one hand is cut off
the other becomes more powerful; so, when our reason
in human things is disturbed or destroyed, our view heavenwavrd becomes more acute and perfect."




THE TALISMA N.          45
Here the voice of the Saracen was drowned in that
of tile hermit, who began to hollo aloud in a wild chi nting tone,-" I am Theodoric of Engaddi-I am the torchbrand of the desert-I am the flail of the infidels! The
lion and the leopard shall be my comrades, and draw
nigh to my cell for shelter; neither shall the goat be
afraid of their fangs-I am the torch and the lanternKyrie Eleison!"
He closed his song by a short race, and ended that
again by three forward bounds, which would have done
him great credit in a gymnastic academy, but became his
character of hermit so indifferently, that the Scottish
knight was altogether confounded and bewildered.
The Saracen seemed to understand him better. " Yotu
see," he said, " that he expects us to follow him to his
cell, which, indeed, is our only place of refuge for the
night.  You are the leopard, from the portrait on your
shield-I am the lion, as my name imports-and, by the
goat, alluding to his garb of goat-skins, he means hinlself.  We must keep him in sight, however, for he is as
fleet as a dromedary."
In fact, the task was a difficult one, for though the
reverend guide stopped from time to tiine, and waved his
hand, as if to encourage them to come on, yet, well acquainted with all the winding dells and passes of the
desert, and gifted with uncommon activity, which, perhaps, an unsettled state of mind kept in constant exercise, he led the knights' through chasms, and along footpaths, where even the light-armed Saracen, with his welltrained barb, was in considerable risk, and where the
iron-sheathed European, and his over-burdened horse,
found themselves in such eminent peril, as the ridei
would gladly have exchanged for the dangers of a general action. Glad he was when, at length, after this wild
race, he beheld the holy man who had led it standing in
front of a cavern, with a large torch in his bhaId, composed of a piece of wood dipped in bitumen, which cast a
broad and flickering light, and emitted a s'rong sulplhu.
reo0is smell.




TAI,EIS OF THE CRUSADERS.
Undeterred by the stifling vapour, the knight thiew
himself from his horse and entered the cavern, which afforded small appearance of accommodation.  The cell
was divided into two parts, in the outward of which were
an altar of stone, and a crucifix made of reeds:  This
served the anchorite for his chapel.  On one side of this
outward cave the Christian knight, though not without
scruple, arising from religious reverence to the objects
around, fastened up his horse, and arranged him for the
night, in imitation of' the Saracen, who gave him to understand that such was the custom of the place.  The hermit, meanwhile, was busied putting his inner apartment
in order to receive his guests, and there they soon joined
him.  At the bottom of the outer cave, a small aperture,
closed with a door of rough plank, led into the sleeping
apartment of the hermit, which was more commodious.
The floor had been brought to a rough level by the labour of the inhabitant, and then strewed with white sand,
which he daily sprinkled with water from a small fountain which bubbled out of the rock in one corner, affording, in that stifling climate, refreshment alike to the ear
and the taste.  Mattresses, wrought of twisted flags, lay
by the side of the cell; the sides, like the floor, had been
roughly brought to shape, and several herbs and flowers
were hungn around them.  Two waxen torches, which
the hermit lighted, gave a cheerful air to the place, which
was rendered agreeable by its fragrance and coolness.
There were implements of labour in one corner of the
apartlllment, in thle otlher was a niche for a rude statue of the
Virgin.  A table and two cllairs slhowed thlat tlhey tnust lbe
tile landrliworlk of tle ancllorite, beingldifferent in their form
fiomi orienltal accolllto(lations.  Tlhe fotrmer was covered,
not oily xx'ithl reeds an(l pu!se, but also withl dried flesh,
wllichl Tlieodoric assidulously lplaced in suchl arrangement
as sIlould invite the appletite of his guests.  This ippearance of' courtes;, tllhotijl nlute, an( expressed by gmesture
only, seei-ned to Sir Kennethl sometliing entirely Irreeroncilable with Ilis forlIler wild and violent dleineanour.  The
movements of the hermlit were now beconme composed,




TISE TAIFhSMAN.                  47
arnd apparently it was only a sense of religious hurnmilia
ties whichlie prevented his features, emaciated as they were
bv hils ans-tere nlode of life, fiom being majestic and noble
Hie irod his cell, as one who seemned born to rule over
men, but who had abdicated his empire to become the
servant of Heaven.  Still. it must be allowed that his gigantic size, the lengthl of' Iis unshaven locks and beard,
and the fire of' a deep-set and wild eye, were rather attributes of a soldier than of a recluse.
Even the Saracen seemed to regard the anchorite with
some veneration, while he was thus employed, and he
whispered in a low tone to Sir Kenneth, " The Hamako
is now in his better mind, but he will not speak until we
have eaten-r such is his vow."
It was in silence, accordingly, that Theodoric motioned to the Scot to take his place on one of the low chairs,
while Sheerkohf placed himself, after the custom of his
nation, upon a cushion of mats.  The hermit then held
up both hands, as if blessing.the refreshment which he
hSd placed before his guests, and they proceeded to eat
in silence as profound as his own.  T'o the Saracen this
gravity was natural, and the Christian imitated his taciturnity, while he employed his thoughts on the singularity
of his own situation, and the contrast betwixt the wild,
fulrious gesticulations, loud cries, and fierce actions ot
Theodoric, when they first met him, and the demure,
solemn, decorous assiduity with which lie now performed
the duties of hospitality.
When their meal was ended, the hermit, who had not
himself eaten a inorsel, removed the fragments from the
table, and placing before the Saracen a pitcher of sherbet, assigned to the Scot a flask of wine.
"Drink," he said, "my children,"-they were the first
words he had spoken, —"' the gifts of God are to be en
(oyed, when the Giver is remembered."
Having said this, he retired to the outward cell, prob.
ably for perforllatlnce of his devotions, and left his guests
together in the inner apartment; when Sir Kenneth end-:,avoured, by various questions, to drawv i'om Sheerkolif




48          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
what that Emir knew concerning his host. He was interested by more than mere curiosity in these inquiries.
Difficult as it was to reconcile the outrageous demeanour
of the recluse, at his first appearance, to his present humble and placid behaviour, it seemed'yet more impossible
to think;t consistent with the high consideration in which,
according to what Sir Kenneth had learned, this hermit
was held by the most enlightened divines of the Christian world.  Theodoric, the hermit of Engaddi, had, in
that character, been the correspondent of popes and
councils; to whom his letters, full of eloquent fervour,
had described the miseries imposed by the unbelievers
upon the Latin Christians in the Holy Land, in colours
scarce inferior to those employed at the Council of Clermont by the Hermit Peter, when he preached the first
crusade.  To find, in a person so reverend, and so much
revered, the frantic gestures of a mad fakir, induced the
Christian knight to pause ere he could resolve to conmmurnicate to him certain important matters, which he had
In charge from some of the leaders of the crusade.
It had been a main object of Sir Kenneth's pilgrimage, attempted by a route so unusual, to makte such commniunications; but what he had that night seen induced him to pause
and reflect ere he proceeded to the execution of his commission. From the Emir he could not extract much information, but the general tenor was as follows:-That, as he
had heard, the hermit had been once a brave and valiant
soldier, wise in counsel, and fortunate in battle, which last
he could easily believe from the great strength and agility
which he had often seen him display;-that he had appeared at Jerusalem in the character not of a pilgrim, but
in that of one who had devoted himself to dwell for the remainder of his life in the Holy Land. Shortly afterwards,
he fixed his residence amid the scenes of desolation where
they now found him, respected by the Latins for his austere devotion, and by the Turks and Arabs on account of
the symptoms of insanity which he displayed, and which
they asc'ribed to inspiration.  It was from them he had the
name of Hamako, which expresses such a chl:racter in




THE TALISMAN'                      49
tlhe Turkish langu age.  Sheerkohlf himself seeined at a
loss how to rank their host.  He had been, lie said, a
wise man, and could often for many hours together speak
lessons of virtue or wisdom, without the sliglhtest appearance of inaccuracy.  At other times lie was wild and
violent, but never before had he seen hlim so mischievously disposed as he had that day appeared to be.  His
rage was chiefly provoked by any affiiont to his religion;
and there was a story of some wanderinlg Arabs, who had
insulted his worship and defaced his altar, and wlhom he
had on that account attacked and slain with the short flail,
which lie carried with him in lieu of all other weapons.
This incident had made a great noise, and it was as much
the fear of the hermit's iron flail, as regard for his character as a Hamako, which caused the roving tribes to respect his dwelling and his chapel.  His fame had spread
so far, that Saladin had issued particular orders that lihe
should be spared and protected.  He himself, and other
Moslem  lords of rank, had. visited tlle cell more tlhan
once, partly from curiosity, partly that they expected from
a man so learned as the Christian Hamako, some insight
into the secrets of futurity.  " He had," continued the
Saracen, " a Rashid, or observatory, of great height,
contrived to view the heavenly bodies, and particularly
the planetary system; by wvhose movements and influences, as both Christian and Moslem believed, the course
of lluman events was regulated, and might be predicted."
This was the substance of the Eniir Sheerkohf's information, and it left Sir Kenneth in doubt whether the character of insanity arose from the occasional excessive
fervour of the hermit's zeal, or whether it was not altogether fictitious, and assumed for the sake of the immunities which it afforded.  Yet it seemed that the infidels
had carried their comnplaisance towards him to an uncommon length, consideriing the fanaticism of the followers of
Mohiammed. in the rnmidst of whom lie was living, though
Ihe professed enenmy of their faith.  He thought also
there was more intimacy of acquaintance betwixt the herVOL. II.




50         T'IALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
mit and the Sairacen, than tile words of the latter had nduced hin to anticipate; and it had not escaped him,
that the former had called the latter by a name different
from that which lhe himself had assumed.  All these considerations authorized caution, if not suspicion.  He determined to observe hlis host closely, and not to be over
hasty in communicating with him on the important charge
entrusted to him.
" Beware, Saracen,'" he said; "methinks.our host's
imagination wanders as well on the subject of names as
upon other matters.' Thy name is Sheerkohf, and he
called thee but now bv another."': My name, when in the tent of my father," replied
the Kurdman, " was Ilderim, and by this I am still distinguished by many.  In the field, and to soldiers, I am
known as the Lion of the Mountain, being the name my
good sword hath won for me.-But hush, the Hamako
comes-it is to warn us to rest-I know his customnone must watch him at his vigils."
The anchorite accordingly entered, and folding his
arms on his bosom as he stood before them, said with a
solemn voice, —" Blessed be His name, who hath appointed the quiet night to follow the busy day, and the
calm sleep to refresh the wearied limbs, and to compose
the troubled spirit."
Both warriors replied "Amen!" and, arising from
the table, prepared to betake themselves to the couches,
which their host indicated by waving his hand, as, making a reverence to each, he again withdrew from  the
apartment.
The Knight of the Leopard then disarmed himself
of his heavy panoply, his Saracen companion kindly
assisting him to undo his ouckler and clasps, until lie
remained in the close' dress of chamois leather, which
knights and men-at-arms used to wear under their harness.  The Saracen, if he had admired the strength of
his adversary when sheathed in steel, was now no less
struck with the accuracy of proportion displayed in his
nervous awnl well-compacted figure. The knight, on the




THE TALISMAN.                    51
otlher hand, as, in exchange of courtesy, he assisted the
Saracen to disrobe himself of his upper garments, that
he might sleep with more convenience, was, on his side,
at a loss to conceive how such slender proportions, and
slimlness of figure, could be reconciled with the vigour
he had displayed in personal contest.
Each warrior prayed, ere he addressed himself to his
place of rest.  The Moslem turned towards his kEbla,
the point to which the prayer of each follower of the
prophet was to be addressed, and murmured his heathen orisons, while the Christian, withdrawing from the
contamination of the infidel's neighboulrlhood, placed his
huge cross-hlandled sword upright, and kneeling before
it as the sign of salvation, told his rosary withl a devotion, wVliciJ \\;is Cliiiilced by the recollection of the
scenes tllroug  \wlict  lie }had passed, and the dangers
fri-om whiclh he hlad  beetn rescued in the course of the day.
Botlh warriors, worn by toil and travel, were soon fast
asleep, each on his separate pallet.
CHAPTER IV..
KENNETH, the Scot, was uncertain how long his senses
had been lost in profound repose, when he was roused
to recollection by a sense of oppression on his chest,
which at first sulgested a flitting dream of struggling
with a powerful opponent, and at length recalled  him
fully to his senses.  He was about to demand who was
there, when, opening his eyes, he beheld the figure of the
anchorite, wild and savage-looking as we have described
him, standing by his bed-side, and  pressing his right
hand upon his breast. while he held a small silver lamp
in the other.




52          TALES OF THE CRlUSADERlS.
~ Be silent," said the hermit, as the prostrate knight
looked tup in surprise' "I have that to say to you which
yonder infidel must not hear."
These words lhe spoke in the Frenclh language, and
not in the Lingua Franca, or compound of Eastern and
European dialects, which had hitherto been used amongst
themn.: Arise," he continued, "put on thy mantle-speak
not, but tread lightly and follow me."
Sir Kenneth arose, and took his sword.
" It needs not," answered the anchorite. in a whisper;'we are going whllere spiritual arms avail muchI, and
fleshly- weapons are but as the reed and the decayed
gourd."
The knight deposited his sword by the bed-side as
before, and, armed only with his dagger, from  xwhich in
this perilous country lie never parted, prepared to attend
his myrsterious host.
The hermit then moved slowl;- forwards, and was followed by the kniglht, still under some uncertainty whether
the dark form which glided on before to show him  the
path, was not, in fact, the creation of' a disturbed dream.
They passed, like shadows, into the outer apartmrnent, without disturbing the paynim Emir, whllo lay still buried in
repose. Before the cross and altar, in the outward room,
a lamp was still burning, a missal was displayed, and onl
the floor lay a discipline, or penitential scourge of small
cord and wire, the lashes of which were recently stained
with blood, a token, no doubt, of the severe penance of
the recluse.  Here Theodoric kneeled down, and pCinted to the knight to take his place beside llim upon the
sharp flints, which seemed placed for the purpose of rendering the posture of reverential devotion as uneasy as
possible; he read many prayers of the Catholic Church,
and  chanted, in a low but earnest voice, three of the
penitential psalms.  These last hle intermixed Nwitih sighs
and tears, ancd convulsive throbs, which bore witness blowl
deeply he felt the divine poetry which lie recited.  The
Scottish knight assisted with profound sincerity at these




TILE TALISMAN.                  53
acts of devotion, his opinions of his host beginning, in
the meantime, to be so much changed, that he doubted
whether, from the severity of his penance, and the ardour
of his prayers, he ought not to regard him as a saint;
and when they arose from the ground, he stood with
reverence before him, as a pupil before an honoured
mnaster. The hermit was on his side silent and abstracted, for the space of a few minutes.
"Look into yonder recess, my son," he said, pointing
to the farther corner of the cell; "there thou wilt find
a veil-bring it hither."
The knight obeyed; and, in a small aperture cut out
of the wall, and secured with a door of wicker, he found
the veil inquired for.  When he brought it to the light,
he discovered that is was torn, and soiled in some places
with some dark substance. The anchorite looked at it
witll a deep but smothered emotion, and ere he could
speak to the Scottish knight, was compelled to vent his
feelings in a convulsive groan.
" Thou art now about to look upon the richest treasare that the earth possesses," he at length said; " woe
is me, that my eyes are unworthy to be lifted towards it!
Alas! I am but the vile and despised sign, which points
out to the wearied traveller a harbour of rest and security, but must itself remain forever without doors.  Ir.
vain have I fled to the very depths of the rocks, and the
very bosom of the thirsty desert. Mine enemy hath found
me-even he whom  I have denied has pursued me to
iny fortresses.'"
He paused again for a moment, and turning to the
Scottish knight, said, in a firmer tone of voice, " You
bring me a greeting from Richard of England?"
"I come from the council of Christian princes," said
the knight; " but the King of England being indisposed, 1 am not hlonoured with his Majesty's commandls."
"Your token?" demanded the recluse.
Sir Kenneth hesitated —former suspicions, and  the
marks of insanity which the hermit had formeily exhib20    v,(,., r.




54         u'AT, I,1 OF THE CRUSADI;':P:S.
ited, rushed suddenly on his thoughts; but hion  uspect a
mlan whose nanners were so saintly? —" TMy pass-word,"
hle said at length,  is this-Kings egge  of a beggar."
" It is right," said the hermit, while he paused;    1I
know you well; but the sentinel upon his post,' and mine
is an important one, challenges friend as well as foe."
He then moved forward with the lamp, leading the
way into the room which they had left.  The Saracen
lay on his couch, still fast asleep. The hermit paused
by his side, and looked down on him.
"He sleeps," he said, " in darkness, and must not be
awakened."
The attitude of the Emir did indeed convey the idea ol
profound repose.  One arm, flung across his body, as
he lay with his face half turned to the wall, concealed,
with its loose and long sleeve, the greater part of his
faice  but the high forehead was yet visible.  Its nerves,
which during his waking hours were so uncommonly
active, were now motionless as if the face had been comnposed of dark marble, and his long silken eye-lashes
closed over his piercing and hawk-like eyes.  The open
and relaxed hand, and the deep, regular, and soft breathing, gave all tokens of the most profound repose.  The
slumberer formed a singular group along with tile tall
forms of the hermit in his shaggy dress of goat-skins,
bearing the lamp, and the knight in his close leathern
coat; the former with an austere expression of ascetic
gloom, the latter with anxious curiosity deeply impressed on his manly features.
" He sleeps soutndly," said the hermit, in the same low
tone as before, and repeating the words, though he had
changed the meaning from that which is literal to a metaphorical sense —" He sleeps in darkness, but there shall
he for him  a day-spring.-O, Ilderim, thy waking
thoughts are yet as vain and wild as those which are
vwheeling their giddy dance through thy sleeping brain'
but the trum )et shall bhi heard, and the dream slIall hbe
dissolved.:'




THE TALISMAN.                    5I
So saying, and making the knight a sign to follow him,
the hermit went towards tile altar, and passing behind
it, pressed a spring, whlich, opening without noise, showed a small iron door wrought in the side of the cavern,
so as to be almost imperceptible, unless upon the most
severe scrutiny.  The hermit, ere he ventured fully to
open the door, dropt some oil on the hinges, which the
lamp supplied.  A  small staircase, hewn in the rock,
was discovered, when the iron door was at length comnpletely opened.
" Talke the veil which I hlold," said the hermit in a
melancholy tone; " and blind mine eyes; for I may not
look on the treasure which thou art presently to behold,
without sin and presumption."
~ Without reply, the knight hastily muffled the recluse's
head in the veil, and the latter began to ascend the staircase as one too much accustomed to the wvay to require
the use of light, while at tile same time lie held the lamp
to the Scot, who followed him  for many steps up the
narrow ascent.  At length they rested in a small vault of
irregular form, in one nook of which the staircase terninated, while in another corner a corresponding stair
was seen to continue the ascent.  In a third angle was
a Gothic door, very rudely ornamented with the usual
attributes of clustered columns and carving, and defended by a wicket, strongly guarded with iron, and studded
with large nails.  To this last point the hermit directed
his steps, which seemed to falter as he approached it.
" Put off thy shoes," he said to his attendant; " the
ground on which thou standest is holy.  Banish from
thy innermost heart each profane and carnal thought,
for to harbour such while in this place, were a deadly
impiety."
The knighlt laid aside his shoes as he was commanded, and the hermit stood in the mean while as if communing with his soul in secret prayer, and when he
again moved, commanded the knight to knock at the
wicket three times.  He did so, the door opened spontaneously, at least Sir Kenneth beheld no one, and hir




56         TALLE  OF THE CRUSADERS.
tenses were at once assailed'y a stream of the purest
light, and by a strong and almost oppressive sense of the
richest perfumes.  He stepped two or three paces back.
and it was the space of a minute ere he recovered the
dazzling and overpowering effects of the sudden change
firom darkness to light.
hllen lie entered the apartment in which this brilliant
lustre was displayed, lie- perceived that the light proceeded from  a combination of silver lamps, fed with
purest oil, and sending forth the richest odours, hanging by silver chains fromi the roof of a small Gothic
chapel, hewn, like most part of the hermit's singular
mansion, out of the sound and solid rock.  But, whereas, in every other place which Sir Kenneth had seen,
the labour employed upon the rock had been of the
simplest and coarsest description, it had in this chapel
employed the invention and the chisels of the most able
architects., The groined roofs rose firom  six columns,
on each side, carved with the rarest skill; and the manner in which the crossings of the concave arches were
bound together, as it were, with appropriate ornaments,
were all in the finest tone of the architecture, and of
the age.  Corresponding to the line of pillars, there were
on each side six richly wrought niches, each of which
contained the image of one of the twelve-Apostles.
At the upper and eastern end of the chapel stood the
altar, behind which a very rich curtain of Persian silk,
embroidered deeply with gold, covered a recess, containing, unquestionably, some image or relic of no ordinary sanctity, in honour of whom this singular place of
worsh.ip had been erected. Under the persuasion that
this mrust be the case, the knight advanced to the shrine,
and kneeling down before it, repeated his devotions with
fervency, during which his attention was disturbed by
the curtain being suddenly raise, or rather pulled aside,
hIlxv or by whom  he saw not; but in the niche which
was thus disclosed, he beheld a cabinet of silver and
ebony, with a double folding door, the. whole formed
into the rq'niature resemblance of a Gothic church.




TILE TALISMAN,                     57
As he gazed with anxious curiosity on the shrine. the
two folding doors also flew  open, discovering a h]trge
piece of wood, on whiich were blazonled the words VERA
CRux, at the same time a choir of iemnale voices sung
GLORIA PATRI.  lThe instant tile strain had ceased, thle
shrine was closed, and tlle curtain again drawn, and the
knight who knelt at the altar might'now continue his devotions undisturbed, in honour of the holy relic which had
been just disclosed to his view.  He did this under the
profound impression of one who had witnessed, witlh his
own eyes, an awful evidence of the truth of his religion,
and it was some time ere, concluding his orisons, he
arose, and ventured to look around hlil for the hermit,
who had guided hiin to this sacred and nmysterious spot.
He beheld hlim, his head still muffled in te veil whlich
lie had hnimself wrapped around it, couching, like a rated
hiound, upon the threshold of the chapel; but, apparently, without venturing to cross it: the holiest reverence, the
most penitential remorse, was expressed by his posture,
which seemed that of a man  borne down and crushed
to the earth by the burden of his inward feelings.  It
seetmed to the Scot, that only the sense of the deepest
penitence, remorse and humiliation, coulld have thus pros.trated a fralne so strong, and a spirit so fiery.
He approached  him  as if to speak, but the recluse
anticipated his purpose, murmuring in stifled tones, from
ijeneath the fold in whllich his head was muffled, and
which sounded like a voice proceeding from  the cerements of a corpse-" Abide, abide-happy  thou that
may'st-the vision is not yet ended."-So  saying he
reared  limnself from the ground, drew  back from  the
threshold on which he had hitherto lain prostrate, and
closed tlhe door of the chapel, which  secured  by a
spring bolt withlin, the snap of' wlhich resounded tlhrough
the place  aplpeared so much like a part of the living
rock frionl  which thle cavern was hewn, that KennethI
coul(d hardly discern where the aperture had been.  He
w7as now alone in the lighted chapel, which contained
the relic to which lie had lately rendered his homage




58        TALES OF TIlE CRUSADEIR.without other arms than his dagger, or other companion thlan his piot-s thoughts and d:tuntless courage.
Uncertain what was next to happen, but resolved to
abide the course of events, Sir Kenneth paced the solitary chapel, till about the time of the earliest cock-crowing.  At this dead season, when night and morning met
together, he heard, but from what quarter lie could not
discover, the sound of such a small silver bell as is rung
at the elevation of the host, in the ceremony, or sacrifice, as it has been called, of the-mass.  The hour and
the place rendered the sound fearfully solemn, anid, bold
as he was, the knight withdrew himself into the farther
nook of the chapel, at the end opposite to the altar, in
order to observe, without interruption, the consequences
of this unexpected signal.
He did not wait long ere the silken curtain was again
withdrawn, and thle relic again presented to his view. As
he sunk reverentially on his knee, he heard the sound of
the lauds, or earliest office of the Catholic church, sung
by female voices, which united together in the perforlmance as they had done in the former service.  Tile knight
was soon aware that the voices were no longer stationary
in the distance, but approached the chapel and became
louder, when a door, imperceptible, when closed,like
that by which he had himself entered, opened on the other
side of the vault, and gave the tones of the choir more
room to swell along the ribbed arches of the roof.
The knight fixed his eyes on the opening with breathless anxiety, and, continuing to kneel In the attitude of
devotion which the place and scene required, expected
the consequence of these preparations.  A procession
appeared about to issue from the door.  First, four beautifuil boys, whose arms, neck, and legs, were bare, showing the bronze complexion' of the East, and contrasting
with the snow-white tunics which they wore, entered the
chapel by tmo and two.  The first pair bore censers,
which they swung fiom side to side, adding double fi'agratnce to the odours with which the chapel already was
iinn regnated.  The second pair scattered flowers.




THE TALISMAN.                    59
Afotr these followed, in due and majestic order, the
females who composed the choir; six, who, firom  their
black scapularies, and black veils over their white garments, appeared to be professed nuns of tile order ot
Mount Carmel; and as many whose veils, being white,
argued them to be novices, or occasional inhabitants in
the cloister, who were not as yet bound to it by vows.
The former held in their hands large rosaries, while tilhe
younger and lighter figures who followed, carried each a
cllaplet of red and white roses.  They moved in procession around the chapel, without appearing to take the
slightest notice of Kenneth, although passing so near him
that their robes almost touched him; while they continued
to sing, the knight doubted not that he was in one of those
cloisters wllere the noble Christian maidens had formerly
openly devoted themselves to the services of the church.
Most of therm had been suppressed since the Mahometans had reconquered Palestine, but many, purchasing
connivance by presents, or receivin-g it from the clemency
or contempt of the victors, still continued to observe in
private the ritual to which their vows had consecrated
them.  Yet, though Kenneth knew this to be the case,
the solemnity of the place and hour, the surprise at the
sudden appearance of these votresses, and the visionary
manner in which thley moved past him, had such influence on his imagination, that he could scarce conceive
that the fair procession which he beheld was formed of
creatures of this world, so much did they resemble a
choir of supernatural beings, rendering homage to the
universal object of adoration.
Such was the knight's first idea, as the procession passed him, scarce moving, save just sufficiently to continue
their progress; so tlhat, seen by the slladowy and religious liglit, whichl the lamps shed through the clouds
of incense vwhich darkened the apartment, they appeared
ratlher to glide thlan to walk.
But as a second tilne, in surrounding the chapel, they
passed the spot on which he kneeled, one of the whitestoled -maidens, as she [lided by him, detaclhed fiom the




60C''TALES OF THE CRUSADERS
chaplet which she carried, a rose-bud, wh.ch dropped
tiorn her fingers, perhaps unconsciously, on the foot ol
Sir Kenneth.  Thle knight started as if a dart had suddenly strucli his person; for, when the mind is wound
tip to a high pitch of feeling and expectation, the slightesi
incident, if unexpected, gives fire to the train which itnagination has already laid.  But lie suppressed his ernotion, recollecting how  easily an incident so indifferent
might have happened, and that it was only the unitform
monotony of the movement of the choristers, whichl
made the incident in the slightest degree remarkable.
Still, while the procession, for the third  time, sur
rounded the chapel, the thoulghts and the eyes of Kenneth
followed exclusively the one among the novices who had
dropped the rose-bud.  Her step, her face, her forin, were
so completely assimilated to the rest of the choristers, that
it was impossible to perceive the least marks of individuality, and yet Kenneth's heart throbbed like a bird that
would burst firom its cage, as if to assure 1him, by its sylmpathetic suggestions, that the female who held thie right
file on the second rank of the novices, was dearer to hirn,
not only than all the rest that were present, but than the
whole sex besides.  The romantic passion of love, as it
was cherished, and indeed enjoined, by the rules of chivalry, associated well with the no less romantic feelings of
devotion; and they might be said much more to enhance
than to counteract each other.  It was, therefore, with a
glow of expectation, that had something even of a religiotis character, that Sir Kenneth, his sensations thrilling
fr'om his heart to the ends of his fingers, expected some
second sign of the presence of one, who, be strongly
fancied, had already bestowed on him the first.  Short as
the space was during which the procession again complet.ed a third perambulation of thle chapel, it seemed an eternity to Kenneth. At length the form, whicll e had watched with such devoted attention, drew nigh-tlhere was no
difference betwixt that shrouded figure and the others,
with whom it moved in concert and in unison, tntii, just
as she passed for the third time the kneeling crusader, a




THE TALISMAN.                  6X
part of a little and well-proportioned hand, so beautifully
formed as to give the highest idea of the perfect proportions of the form to which it belonged, stole through the
folds of' the gauze, like a moon-beam through the fleecy
cloud of a summer night, and again a rose-bud lay at the
feet of the Knight of the Leopard.
This second intimation could not be accidental-it
could not be fortuitous the resemblance of that half-seen,
but beautiful female hand, with one which his lips had
once touched, and while they touched it, had internally
sworn allegiance.to the lovely owner.  Had farther proof
been wanting, there was the glimmer of that matchless
ruby ring on that snow-white finger, whose invaluable
worth Kenneth would yet have prized less than the slightest sign which that finger could have made-and, veiled
too as she was, he might see, by chance, or by favour, a
stray curl of the dark tresses, each hair of which was
dearer to him an hundred times than a chain of massive
gold.  It weas the lady of his love! But that she should
be here —in the savage and sequestered desertit-among
vestals, who rendered themselves habitants of wilds and
of caverns, that they might perform in secret those Christian rites which they darednot assist in openly-that this
should be so-in truth and in reality-seemed too incredible-it must be a dream-a delusive trance of the imagination. While these thoughts passed through the mind
of Kenneth, the same passage, by which the procession
had entered the chapel, received them on their return.
The young sacristans, the sable nuns, vanished successively through the open door-at length she from whom
he had received this double intimation, passed alsoyet, in passing, turned her head, slightly indeed, but perceptibly, towards the place where he remained fixed as
an image.  He marked the last wave of her veil-it was
gone-and a darkness sunk upon his soul, scarce less
palpable than that which almost immediately enveloped
his external sense; for the last chorister had no sooner
c'ossed the threshold of the door, than it shut with a loud
VOL. It.




62         TTALES OF T].E CRUSADJRS.
sound  and at the same instant the voices of tile choir
were silent, the lights of the chapel were at once extin
guished, and Sir Kenneth remainled solitary, and in total
darkness.  But to Kenneth, solitude, and dlarkness, and
the uncertainty of his mysterious situation, was as nothing-hie thought not of them —cared not for them —cared
for nought inll the world save the flitting vision which had
just glided past him, and the tokens of her favour which
she had bestowed.  To grope on the floor for the buds
wlich bhe had dropped —to press them  to his lips-to
his bosom-now  alternately, now together-to rivet his
lips to the cold stones on which, as near as lie could
judge, she had so lately stept-to play all the extravagances which strong affection suggests and vindicates to
those who yield themselves up to it, were but the tokens
of passionate love, common to all ages. But it was peculiar to tile times of chivalry, that in his wildest rapture
the knight imagined of no attempt to follow or to trace
the object of such romantic attachment; that he thought
of her as of a deity, who, having deigned to show herself
for an instant to her devoted worshipper, had again returned to the darkness of her sanctuary-or as an influential planet, which, having darted in some auspicious
minute one favourable ray, wrapped itself again in its
veil of mist.  The motions of the lady of his love were
to him those of a superior being, who was to move with
out watch or control, rejoice him by her appearance, or
depress him by her absence, animate him by her kindness, or drive him to despair by her cruelty-all at her
own firee will, and without other importunity or remonstrance than that expressed by the most devoted services
of the heart and sword of the champion, whose sole obiect in life was to fulfil her commands, and, by the splendour of his own achievements, to exalt her fame.
Such were the rules of chivalry, and of the love which
was its ruling principle.  But Sir Kenneth's attachment
-was rendered romantic by oth ~r and still more peculiar
cir ulmstances.  He had never even heard the sound of
his lady's voice, though lie had often beheld her beauty




THIE TALISMAN.                  63
with rapture.  She moved in a circle, which 1Mi  rank
of knighthood permitted him indeed to approach, but
not to mingle with; and highly as he stood distinguished
lir warlike skill and enterprize, still the poor Scottish
soldier was compelled to worship his divinity at a distance, almost as great as divides the Persian from the
sun which lie adores.  But when wasthe pride of wok.an
too lofty to overlook the passionate devotion of a lover,
however inferior in degree?  Her eye had been on him
in the tournament, her ear had heard his praises, in the
report of the battles which were daily fought; and while
count, duke, and lord, contended for her grace, it flowed unwillingly perhaps at first, or even unconsciously,
towards the poor Knight of the Leopard, who, to support his rank, had little besides his sword.  When she
looked, and when she listened, the lady saw and heard
enough to encourage her in a partiality, which had at
first crept on her unawares.  If a knight's personal
beauty ewas praised, even the most prudish dames of the
military court of England would make an exception in
favour of the Scottish Kenneth; and it oftentimes happened, that notwithstanding the very considerable largesses which princes and peers bestowed on the minstrels,
an impartial spirit of independence would seize the poet,
and the harp was swept to the heroism of one, who had
neither palfries nor garments to bestow in guerdon of his
applause.
The moments when she listened to the praises of her
lover became gradually more and more dear to the highborn Edith, relieving the flattery with which her ear was
weary, and presenting to her a subject of secret contemplationl, more worthy, as he seemed by general report,
than those who surpassed him in rank and in the gifts
of fortune.  As her attention became constantly, though
cautiously, fixed on Sir Kenneth, she grew  more and
more convinced of his personal devotion to herself, and
more and more certain in her mind, that in Kenneth ol
Scotland she beheld the fated knight doomed to share
with her througah we.l and woe-and the prospect look.




644        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
ed gloomy and dangerous-the passionate attachment to
which the poets of the age ascribed such universal dominion. and which its manners and morals placed nearly
on the same rank with devotion itself.
Let us not disguise the truth from our readers. When
Edith became aware of the state of her own sentiments,
chivalrous as were her sentiments, becoming a maiden
not distant firom the throne of Enoland-gratified as her
pride must have been with the mute though unceasing
homage rendered to her by the knight whom  she had
disc:nguished, there were moments when the feelings
of the woman, loving and beloved, murmured against
tl;e restraints of state and form by which she was surrounded, and when she almost blamed the timidity of
her lover, who seemed resolved not to infringe them
The etiquette, to use a modern phrase, of birth and rank,
had drawn around her a magical circle, beyond which
Sir Kenneth might indeed bow and gaze, but within
which he could no more pass, than an evoked spirit can
trangress the boundaries prescribed by' the rod of a
powerful enchanter. The thought involuntarily pressed
on her, that she herself must venture, were it but the
point of her fairy foot, beyond the prescribed boundary,
if she ever hoped to give a lover, so reserved and bashful, an opportunity of so slight a favour, as but to salute
her shoe-tie.  There was an example, the noted precedent of the " King's daughter of Hungary," who thus
generously encouraged the c" squire of low degree;" and
Edith, though of kingly blood, was no king's daughter,
any more than her lover was of low degree-fortune had
put no such extreme barrier in obstacle to their affections.  Something, however, within the maiden's bosom
-that modest pride, which throws fetters even on love itself —forbade her, notwithstanding the superiority of her
condition, to make those advances, which, in every case,
delicacy assigns to the other sex; above all, Sir Kenneth
was a knight so gentle and honourable, so highly accomplished, as her imagination at least suggested, together
with the strictest feelings of what was due to himself and to




THE TAIISMAN.                    6l
her, that however constrained her attitude might be while
receiving his adorations, like the image of somie deity.
whlo is neither supposed to feel nor to reply to the homage of its votaries, still the idol feared that to step prematurely from her pedestal would be to degrade herseli
in the eyes of her devoted worshipper.
Yet the devout adorer of an actual idol can even discover signs of approbation in the rigid and immovable
features of a marble image, and it is no wonder that
something, which could be as favourably interpreted,
glanced from the brighlt eye of the lovely Edith, whose
beauty, indeed, consisted rather more in that very power
of expression, than on absolute regularity of contour,
or brilliancy of complexion.  Some slight marks of distinction had escaped from  her, notwitllstanding her own
jealous vigilance, else how could Sir Kenneth have so
readily, and so undoubtingly recognized the lovely hand,
of vlwhich scarce two fingers were visible from under the
veil, or how could he have rested so thoroughly assured
that two flowers, successively dropt on the spot, were intended as a recognition on the part of his lady-love?
By what train of observation-by what secret signs, looks,
or gestures-by what instinctive free-masonry of love, this
degree of intelligence came to subsist between Edith and
her lover, we cannot attempt to trace; for we are old,
and such slight vestiges of affection, quickly discovered
by younger eyes, defy the power of ours.   Enough,
that such affection did subsist between parties who had
never even spoken to one another, thouglh, on the side
of Edith, it waas checked by a deep sense of the difficullties and dangers which must necessarily attend the
fiurther progress of their attachment, and upon that of
the knighlt by a thousand doubts and fears, lest he had
over-estimated the slight tokens of the lady's notice,
varied as they necessarily were, by long intervals of appa'rent coldness, during which, either the fear of exciting the observation of others, and thus drawing danger
upon her lover, or that of sinking in his esteem by seemvOL. Ii.




6i6          TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
ing too willing to be won, made her behave wit i;ndit.
ference, and as if unobservant of his presence.
Tlls narrative, tedious perhaps, but which  th' story
renders necessary, may serve to explain the state c f intelligence, if it deserves so stronog  a name, betwix'. the
lovers, when  Edith's unexpected  appearance  i,; the
chlapel preducedso powerful aneffect on the feelin.j ol
her kniglht.
CHAPTER V.
Their necromantic formins in vain,
h-Iaunt us onl the tented plain;
WVe bid these spectre shapes avaunt,
Ashtaroth and Termagaunt.
Warton.
TIIE most profound silence, the  deepest  darkness.
continued to brood  for more than an hour over the
clhapel in which we left the Knighllt of the Leopard still
kneeling, alternately expressing thanks to Heaven, and
gratitude to  his lady, for the boon which had been
vouchsafed to him.  His own safety, his own destiny,
for which he was at all times little anxious, had not
now  the weight of a grain of dust in his reflections.
He was in the neighbourhood of Lady Edith, he had
received tokens of her grace, lie was in a place hallowed1 by relics of the most awful sanctity.   A  Cllristian
soldier, a devoted  lover, could fear nothing, think of
iothling, but his duty to Heaven, and his devoir to hIis
lady.
At the lapse of the space of time which we have noticed, a shrill whlistle, like that with which a falconer calls,,is hawk, was heard to ring sllarply tlirough the vaulted cehapel.  It was a sound ill suited  to thie place, and
werninded Sir Kenneth how necessary it was he shlould
a




THE TALISMAN.                   67
be upon his guard.  He started from his knee, and laidI
his hand upon his poniard.  A creaking sound, as of a
screw or pulleys, succeeded, and a light streaming upwards, as from  an opening in the floor, showed that a
trap-door had been raised or depressed.  In less than
a minute, a long skinny arm, partly naked, partly clotlihed in a sleeve of red samite, arose out of the aperture,
holding a lamp as high as it could stretch upwards, and
the figure to which the arm belonged, ascended step by
step to the level of the chapel floor. The form and face ot
the being who thus presented himself, were those of a
frigllhtful dwarf, with a large head, a cap fantastically
adorned with three peacock-feathers, a dress of red
samite, the richness of which rendered his ugliness more
conspicuous, distinguished by gold bracelets and armlets, and a white silk sash, in which he wore a gold-hilted
dagger.  Tills singular figure had in his left lhand a kilid
of' broom.  So soon as lie had stepl)ed from  the aperture through which he arose, lie stood still, and, as it' to
show  himself more distinctly, moved the lamp whllich
ne held slowly over his face and person, successively
illuminating his wild and fantastic features, and his Inisshapen, but nervous limbs.   Thlougll disproportioned
in person, the dwarf was not so distorted as to argue any
want of strength or activity.  While Sir Kenneth gazed
on this disagreeable object, the popular creed occurred
to his remembrance, concerning the gnomes, or earthy
spirits, which make their abode in tile caverns of the
earth; and so much did this figure correspond with ideas
he had formed of their appearance, that he looked on
t with disgust, mingled not indeed with fear, but that
sort of awe which the presence of a supernatural creature may infuse into the most steady bosom.
The dwarf again whistled, and summoned from  beneath a companion.  This second figure ascended in the
same iLanner as the first; but it was a female arm, in
this second instance, which upheld the lamp from  the
subterranean  vault out of which  these  presentments
arose, and it was a female form, much reselnbliJng the




biS         T'AlJt S OF TI-IE CRlUSAD,;11S.
first ill snape and proportions, which slowly emerged
firomn the floor.  Her dress was also of red sallite, kantastically cut and flounced, as if slhe had been dressed for
some exlibition of mimes or jugglers; and with the same
minuteness whllich her predecessor had exhibitedl, she
passed the lamp over her face and person, which seemed
to rival the male's in ugliness.  But with all this most
unftavourable exterior, there was one trait in the features
of' both, which argued alertness and intelligence in the
most uncommon degree.  This arose from the brilliancy
of' their eyes, which, deep-set beneath black and shaggy
brows, gleamed Nwith a lustre, which, like that in the eye
of the toad, seemed to make some amends for the extreme ugliness of countenance and person.
Sir Kenneth remained as if spell-bound, while this unlovely pair, moving round the chapel close to each other,
appeared to perfborm the duty of sweeping it, like menials;
nlbut as they used only one hand, the floor was not much
benefited by the exercise, which they plied with such
oddity of ge-stures and manner, as befitted their bizarre
and fantastic appearance.  When they approached near
to the knight, in the course of their occupation, they
ceased to use their brooms, and placing themselves side
by side, directly opposite to Sir Kenneth, they again
slowly shifted the lights which they held, so as to allow
him distinctly to survey features which were not rendered more agreeable by being  brought  nearer, and to
observe the extreme quickness and keenness with which
their black and glittering eyes flashed back the light of
the lamps. They then turned the gleam of both lights
upon the knight, and having accurately surveyed him,
turned their faces to each other, and set up a loud yelling laugh, which resounded in his ears.  The sound was
so ghastly, that Sir Kenneth started at hearing it, and
hastily demanded in the name of God who they were
who profaned that holy place with such antic ge.stulres
and elritch exclamations.




THE TALISMAN.                  69
I 1 am  the dwarf Nectabanus," said the abortionseeming male, in a voice corresponding to his figure, and
resembling the voice of the night-crow more than any
sound which is heard by day-light.
-" And I am Guenevra, his lady and his love," replied
the female, in tones which, being shriller, were yet wilder than those of her companion.
" Wherefore are you here?" again demanded the
knight, scarcely yet assured that it was human beings
wvhich he saw before him.
"' I am," replied the male dwarf, with much assumed
gravity and dignity,  "the twelfth Imaum-I am Mahommed Mohadi, the guide and the conductor of the
faithful. An hundred horses stand ready saddled for
me and my train at the Holy City, and as many at the
City of Refuge.  I am he who shaP bear witness, and
this is one of my houris."
"Thou liest!" answered the female, interrupting her
-ompanion in tones yet shriller than his own;" I am
none of thy houris, and thou art no such infidel trash as
the Mahommed of whom thou speakest.  May my curse
rest upon his coffin!-I tell thee, thou ass of Issachar,
thou art King Arthur of Britain, whom the fairies
stole away from tile field of Avalon; and I am dame
Guenevra, famed for her beauty."
" But in truthl, noble sir," said the male, " we are
distressed princes dwelling under the wing of King Guy
of Jerusalem, until he was driven out from his own nest
by the foul infidels-Heaven's bolts consume them!"
"Hush," said a voice from the side upon which the
Knight had entered-" hush, fools, and begone; your
ministry is ended."
The dwarfs had no sooner heard the command, than
gibbering in discordant whispers to each other, they blew
rut their lights at once, and left the knight in utter darkaess, which, when the pattering of their retiring feet had
died away, was soon accompanied by its fittest compan
iot, totat silence;




70        lTALES OF THE CRUSADLIS.
The knight felt the departure of these unfortunate
creatures a relief.  He could not, from their language.
manners, and appearance, doubt that they belonged to
the degraded class of beings, whom deformity of person,
and weakness of intellect, recommended to the painful
situation of appendages to great families, where their
personal appearance and imbecility were food for merriment to the household.  Superior in no respect to the
ideas and manners of his time, the Scottish knight miglt,
at ainother period, have been much amused by the mummery of these poor effigies of humanity; but now their
appearance, gesticulations, and language, broke the train
of deep and solemn feeling with which he was impressed, and he rejoiced in the disappearance of the unhappy
objects.
A few minutes after they had retired, the door at
which they had entered opened slowly, and, remaining
ajar, discovered a faint light arising from a lantern placed  upon the threshold.  Its doubtful and wavering
gleam showed a dark form reclined beside the entrance.
but without its precincts, which, on  aplproaclling it
more nearly, he recognized to be the hernlit, couchling
in the same humble posture in which he had at first laid
himself down, and which doubtless he had retained
during the whole time of his guest's continuing in the
chapel.
"All is over," said the hermit, as he heard the knight
approaching-" and the most wretched of eartlly sinners, with him who should think himself most hlonourled
and most happy among the race of humanity, mnust retire
from this place. Take the light, and guide me down the
descent, for I may not uncover my eyes until I am far
from this hallowed spot."
The Scottish knight obeyed in silence, for a solemn
and yet ecstatic sense of what he had seen had silenced
even the eager workings of curiosity. He led the way,
w'th considerable accuracy, through the various secret
mosages and stairs by which they had ascended, until at




THE TALISMAN-.                  I
length they found themselves in the outward cell of the
lcrmnit's cavern.'" The condemned criminal is restored to his dungeon,
reprieved from one miserable day to another, until his
awful Judge shall at length appoint the well-deserved
sentence to be carried into execution."
As the hermit spoke these words, he laid aside the veil
with which his eyes had been bound, and looked at it
with a suppressed and hollow sigh. No sooner had he
restored it to the. crypt from which he had caused the
Scot to bring it, than he said hastily and sternly to his
companion —" Begone, begqne-to rest, to rest.  You
may sleep —you can sleep-I neither can nor may."
Respecting the profound agitation with which this was
spoken, the knight retired into the inner cell; but casting back his eye as he left the exterior grotto, he beheld
the anchorite stripping his shoulders with firantic haste,
of their shaggy mantle, and ere he could shut the frail
door which separated the two compartments of the cavern, he heard the clang of the scourge, and the groans
of the penitent under his self-inflicted penance.  A
cold shudder came over the kniglit as he reflected
what could be the foulness of the sin, what the depth of
the remorse, which, apparently, such severe penance
could neither cleanse nor assuage.  He told his beads
devoutly, and flung himself on his rude couch, after a
glance at the still sleeping Moslem, and, wearied by the
various scenes of the day and the night, soon slept as
sound as infancy.  Upon his awaking in the morning, he
held certain conferences with the hermit, upon matters
of importance, and the result of their intercourse induced
him to remain for two days longer in the grotto.  He
was regular, as became a pilgrim, in his:~evotional exercises, but was not again admitted to the chapel.'n which
he had seen such wonders.




72          TALES OF THE CPRUSADERS.
CHAPTER VI.
Now change the scene-and let the trumpets sound,
For we must, rouse the lion from his lair.
Old Play.
THE scene must change, as our program has announc;
ed, from the mountain wilderness of Jordan to the camp
of King Richard of England, then stationed betwixt Jean
d'Acre and Ascalon; and containing that army with which
le of the Lion Heart had promised himself a triumphant
march to Jerusalem, and in which he would probably
hlave succeeded, if not hindered by the jealousies of the
Christian princes engaged in the same enterprize, and the
offence talken by then at the uncurbed haughtiness of the
Ellish monarch, and Richard's unveiled contempt for his
brother sovereigns, who, his equals in rank, were yet far
his inferiors.n courage, hardihood, and military talents.
Such discords, and particularly those betwixt Richard and
Philip of France, created disputes and obstacles which
impeded every active measure proposed by the heroic
though impetuous Richard, while the ranks of the crusaders were daily thinned, not only by the desertion of
individuals, but of entire bands, headed by their respective feudal leaders, who withdrew from a contest in which
they had ceased to hope for success.
The effects of the climate became, as usual, fatal to
soldiers from the north,, and the more so that the dissolute license of the crusaders, forming a singular contrast
to thel principles and purpose of their taking up arms,
rendered them more easy victims to the insalubrious influence of burning heat and chilling dews.  To these discouraging causes of loss was to be added the sworn of the
enmy.  Saladin, than whom no greater name is recordd.!1 Eastern history, had learnt, to his fatal experience..




'I HE TALISMAN.                   73
t'.t h lis light-armed followers were little able to Ineet in
tiost elicounter with tile iron-clad Franks, and had been
taxivut, at thle samne timne, to apprlehend and dread the adventurous character of' his antagonist Richard.  But if his
armies were more tihan once routed with great slaughter,
his numbers gave the Saracen tlhe advantage in those lighter
slkirmishles, of which many were inevitable.  As the army
of his assailants decreased, the enterprises of the Sultan became more numerous, and more bold, in this species of petty
warftare. ThYe camp of the crusaders was surrounded, and
almost besieged, ty clouds of light cavalry, resembling
swarms of' wasps, easily crushed when they are once
grasped, but furn.ished  with wings to elude superior
strength, and stings to inflict harm and mischief.  There
was. perpetual wax fare of posts and foragers, in which
many valuable lives were lost, without any corresponding
object being gained; convoys wvere intercepted, and communications were cut off.  The crusaders had to purchase the means of sustaining life, by life itself; and
water, like that of tlle well of Bethlehetn, longed for by
King David, one of its ancient Inonarchs, was then, as
before, only obtained by the expenditure of blood.
These evils were, in a great measure, counterbalanced
by the stern resolution and restless activity of King Rich
ard, who, with some of his best knights, was ever on
horseback, ready to repair to any point where danger occured, and often, not only bringing unexpected succour
to the Christians, but discomfiting the infidels when they
seemed most secure of victory.  But even the iron framne
of Coeur de Lion could not support, without injury, the
alternations of the unwholesome climate, joined to ceaseless exertions of body and mind. He became afflicted
with one of those slow  and wvasting fevers peculiar to
Asia, and in despite of his great strength, and still greater courage, grew first unfit to mount on  horseback, and
then unable to attend the councils of war, which vwere.
from time to time, held by the crusaders.  It was difficult
to sav whether this state of personal inactivity was roen-'    r,,.!   I.




74          TALES OF THE CRUSAIDERSs
dlered more galling or more endurable to tile English
monarchl, by the resolution of the council to engage in a:ruce of thirty days with the Sultan Saladin  fbr, on the
one hand, if lie was incensed at the delay which this interposed to the progress of the great enterprize, he was.
on the other, somewhat consoled by knowing that others
were not acquiring laurels. while he remained inactive
upon a sick-bed.
That, however, which Coeur de Lion could least excuse, was the general inactivity which prevailed in the
camp of the crusaders, so soon as his illness assumed a
serious aspect; and the reports which he extracted from
hlis unwilling attendants, gave him to understand, that the
hopes of the host had abated in proportion to his illness,
and that the interval of truce was employed, not in recruiting their numbers, reanimating their courage, fostering their spirit of conquest, and preparing for a speedy
and determined advance upon the Holy City, which was
the object of their expedition, but in securing the camp
occupied by their diminished followers, with trenches,
palisades, and other fortifications, as if preparing rather
to repel an attack from a powerfuil enemy so soon as hostilities should recommence, than to assume the proud
character of conquerors and assailants.
The En glish king chafed under these reports, like the
imprisoned lion viewing his prey from the iron barriers
of his cage.  Naturally rash and impetuous, the irritability of his temper preyed on itself.  He was dreaded
by his attendants, and even the medical assistants feared
to assume the necessary authority, which a physician, to
dcl justice to his patient, must needs exercise over him.
(Ohe faithful baron, who, perhaps, firom the congenial nature of his disposition, was devoutly attached to the
king's person, dared alone to come between the dragon
and his wrath, and quietly, but firmly, maintained a conitrol whllich no other dared assume over the dangerous
invalid, and which Thomas de Multon only exercised,
because he esteemed his sovereign's life and honour
more than be did the degree of favour which he might




THE TALISMAN.                    75
lose, or even the risk which he might ilncur, in nurjing a
[patient so intractable, and whose displeasure was so perilous.
Sir Thomas was the Lord of Gilsland, in Cumberland, and, in an age when surnames and titles were inot
distinctly attached, as now, to the individuals who bore
them, he was called by the Normans the Lord de Vaux,
and in English, by the Saxons, who clung to their native
language, and were proud of the share of Saxon blood
in this renowned warlior's veins, he was termed Thomlas,
or more faniliarlv, Thom of' the Gills, or Narrow Valleys, fiom which his extensive domains derived their welli nown alp)ellation.
This chief had been exercised in almost all the wars.
whe.her waged betwixt England and Scotland, or amongst
the various domestic fIactions which then t6re the former country asunder, an:tl in all had been distinguished, as
well fiom hlis military conduct as his personal prowess.
He was, in other respects, a rude soldier, blunt and
careless in hlis bearing, and taciturn, nay, almost sullen.
in his habits of society, and seeming, at least, to d(isclaim all knowledge of policy and of courtly art.  Thelle
were men, however, who pretended to look deeply into
character, wllo asserted that the Lord de Vaux was not
less shrewd and aspiring, than lhe was blunt and bold,
and who thought that, while he assimilated himself to the
King's own character of blunt hardihlood, it was, in some
degree at least, with an eye to establish his favour, and
to gratify his own hopes of deep-laid ambition.  But no
one cared to tlvhwart his schemes, if such lhe had, by rivalling hini in the dangerous occupation of daily attendance on the sick-bed of a patient, whose disease was
pronounced infectious, and more - especially when it was
remembered that the patient was Coeur de Lion, suffering under all the filrious impatience of a soldier withhIeld from  battle, and a sovereign sequestered from  authority; and the common soldiers, at least in the English armny, were generally of opinion that De Vaux attended on the King like comrade upon comrade, in the




76         r''ALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
honest and disinterested frankness of military friendshlip
contracted between the partakers' of daily dangers.
-It was on the decline of a Syrian day that Richard lay
on his couch of sickness, loathing it as much in mind as
his illness made it irksome to his body.  His bright blue
eye which at all times shone with uncommon  keenness
and splendour, had its vivacity augmented by fever andi
mental impatience, and glanced from  among hlis curled
and unshorn locks of yellow hair, as fitfully and as vividly, as the last gleams of the sun shoot through the
clouds of an approaching thunder-storm, whichl still, however, are gilded by its beams.   His manly features
showed tile progress of wasting illness, and hlis beard,
neglected and untrimmed, had overgrown both lips and
chin.   Casting himself from side to side, now clutching
towards him  the coverings, which at the next rnoment
he flung as impatiently firom  him, his tossed couch and
impatient gestures showed at once the energy and the
reckless impatience of a disposition, whose natural sphere
was that of the most active exertion.
Beside his couchl stood Tllhomas de Vaux, in face, at-.
titude, and manner, the strongest possible contrast to the
suffering monarch.  His stature a})proached the gigantic, and his hair in thickness might have resembled that
of Samson, though only after the Israelitish champioln's
locks had passed under tile sheers of tile Philistines, for
those of De Vaux were cut short, that they might be
enclosed under his helmet.   The light of ilis bi'oad,
large hazel eye, resembled that of the autumn morn, and
it was only perturbed for a moment, when firom time to
time it was attracted by Richard's vehement mnarks oi
agitation and restlessness.  His features, thlougll massive
like his person, might have been handsome before they
were defaced with scars; his upper lip, after the fashion of
the Normans, was covered with thick mustaches, whiclh
grrew so long and luxuriantly as to mingle wi;ll his lhair
and, like his hair, were dark brown, sligltlly brindled
with grey.  His frame seemed of tllat kind which most
readily defies both toil and climate, for lie was thin-flank



THE'TAL.ISMAN.                  77
ed, broad-chested, long-armed, deep-breathed,and strongliembed.  He bad not laid aside his buff-coat, whicll displayed the cross, cut on thle shoulder tlor Inore than three
nighlts, enjoying but such morne itary repose as the warder of a sick monarchl couch miight by snatches indulge.  This Baron rarely changed hlis posture, except to administer to Richard the medicine or refreshmelnts, which none of his less favoured attendants could
persuade the impatient monarch to take; and there was
something   affecting in the kindly, yet awkward manner, in
which he discharged offices so st rangely contrasted with
his blunt and soldierly habits and manners.
The pavilion in which these personages were, had, as
lecanme the time, as well as the personal character of
I ichard, more of a warlike than a sumptuous or royal
( haracter.  Weapons offensive and defensive, several ol
them of strange and newly invented construction, were
scattered about the tented apartmrrent, or disposed upon
the pillars which supported it.' Skins of animals slainl
in the chase was stretched on the ground, or extended
along the sides of the pavilion, and, upon a heap of these
sylvan spoils, lay three alans, as they were then called,
(wolf-greyhounds that is) of the largest size, and as
white as snow.  Their faces, marked with many a scar
from clutch and fang, shtowed their share in collecting
the trophies upon which they reposed, and their eyes,
fixed from time to time with an expressive stretch and
yawn upon the bed of Richard, evinced how much tlhey
marvelled at and regretted the unwonted inactivity which
they were compelled to share. These were but the accompaniments of the soldier and huntsman; but, on a
small table close by the bed, was placed a shield of
wrought steel, of triangular form, bearing the three lions
passant, first assumed by the chivalrous monarch, and
before it the golden circlet, resembling muach a du:;al
coronet, only that it was higher in front than behind.
vwhich, with the purple velvet and embroidered tiara that
l;ned it, formed t len the emblem  of England's s&,ve
21  VOL. 1I.




78          T&LES OF THE CRUSADE1lS.
relgnty.  Beside it, as if prompt for defending the regal symbol, lay a mighty curtal-axe, which would have
wearied the arm of any other than Cceur de Lion.
In an outer partition of the pavilion waited two or
three officers of the royal household, depressed, anxious
for their master's health, and not less so for their own
safety, in case of his decease.  Their gloomy appreliensions spread themselves to the warders with1out, whlo
paced about in downcast and silent contemplation, or,
resting on their halberds, stood motionless on their post,
rather like armed trophies than living warriors.
" So thou lhast no better news to bring me from w'thout, Sir Thomas?" said the King, after a long and perturbed silence, spent in the feverish agitation which we
have endeavoured to describe.  "All our knights turned women, and our ladies become devotees, and neither
a spark of valour nor of gallantry to enlighten a camp,
which contains tlhe choicest of Europe's chivalry —Ha!"' The truce, my lord," said De Vaux, with the same
pltience with whici he had twenty times repeated the
explanation —" the truce prevents us bearing ourselves
as men of action; and, for the ladies, I am  no great
reveller, as is well known to your Majesty, and seldom
exchange steel and buff for velet and gold-but thus
far I know, that our choicest beauties are waiting upon
the Queen's Majesty and the Princess, to a pilgrimage
to the convent of Engaddi, to accomplish tlleir vows for
your Highness's deliverance frtoln this trouble."
"And is it thus," said Richard, with the impatience
of indisposition,  " that royal matrons and maidlens
should risk tllemselves, where the dogs who defile the
land have as little truth to man, as they have faith towards God?"
" Nay, my lord," said De Vaux, " they have Saladin's word for their safety."
" Ti ie, true!" replied Richard, " and I did the heatlen Soldan injustice-l  owe him  reparation for itwvo tid God I were but fit to offer it him upon my body




THE TALISMA1.aS                  "9
bet;ecen the two hosts-Christendom and Heathenesse
both looking oil.
As Richard spokle, lie thrust his ri-ght arm out of bed
utaked to the shoulder, anld, ptainfully raising lhimself in
his couch, shook h-s clelclhed hand, as if it grasped
sworid or battle-axe, aind was then brandished over the.
jewelled turban of the soldcan.  It was not without a
gentle degree of violence, which the King would scarce
have endured from another, that De Vaux, in his character of sick-nuise, compelled his royal master to replace himself in the couch, and covered his sinewy arm,
neck, and shoulders, with the care which a nmother bestows upon an impatient child.
" Thou art a rough nurse, though a willing one, De
Vaux," sa-id the king, laughing with a bitter expression,
while hle subnitted to the strength which he was unable
to resist; " methinks a coif would become thy lowering
features, as well as a child's biggin would beseem mine.
We should be a babe and nurse to frighten girls with."
W" We have frightened men in our time, my leige,(
said De Vaux; " and, I trust, may live to frighten them
again.  What is a fever-fit, that we should not endure it
patiently, in order to get rid of it easily?"
"Fever-fit!" exclaimed Richard, impetuously; "thou
mayst think, and justly, that it is a fever-fit with me;
but what is it with all the other Christian princes-with
Philip of France-with that dull Austrian-with him
of Montserrat-with the Hospitallers-with the Templars-what is it with all them?-I will tell thee-it is
a cold palsy-a  dead  lethargy-a disease  that deprives them of speech and action-a canker that has
eaten into the heart of all that is noble, and c(livalrous,
and virtuous among them-that has made theni false to
the noblest vow ever knigllts were sworn to —has made
them  indifferent to thleia fame, and forgetful of their
God!"
" For the love of Heaven, my liege," said De Vaux,
take it less violently! you will be heard without doors'letrt such snePeh-s are but too current already among
790




80          i- 1'ti;s OF THE CRUSADEItS
thle common soldiery, and engender discord and conten.
tion in the Christian host.  Bethink you that your illness
mars the main-spring of their enterprize: a mangonel
will work without screw  and  lever better than the
Christian host without King Richard."
" Thou flatterest me, De Vaux," said Richard; and,
not insensible to the power of praise, he reclined his
head on the pillow, with a more deliberate attempt to
repose than he had yet exhibited.  But Thomas de
Vaux was no courtier; the phrase which had offered
had risen spontaneously to his lips; and he knew not
how to pursue the pleasing therne, so as to soothe and
prolong the vein which he had excited. He was silent,
therefore, until, relapsing into his moody contemplations,
the King demanded of him sharply, " Despardieux!
This is smoothly said to soothe a sick man; but does a
league of monarchs, an assemblage of nobles, a convocation of all the chivalry of Europe, droop with the sickness of one man, though he chances to be King of England?  Why should Richard's illness, or Richard's
death, check the march of thirty thousand men, as brave
as himself?  When the master stag is struck down, the
herd do not disperse upon his fall-when the falcon
strikes the leading crane, another takes the guidance ot
the phalanx.-Why do not the powers assemble and
choose some one, to whom they may entrust the guidance
of the host?"
" Forsooth, and if it please your Majesty," said De
Vaux, " I hear consultations have been held among the
royal leaders for some such purpose."
" Ha!" exclaimed Richard, his jea.ousy awakened,
giving his mental. irritation another direction-" am  I
forgot by my allies ere I have taken the last sacrament i
-do they hold me dead already?-Bit no, no-they
are right — And whom do they select as leader of the
Christian host?"'
" Rank and dit,.ity,  said De Vaux, " point to) tile
King ot France.'




TILEL TALISMAN.                    91
h av,' ansVwered the English monarchI, " Phlii
af' Franc. and Navarre-Dennis Aontjoie-his TMost
Cliristian Majesty! —noutll-filling words tlhese!  There
is )but one risk —that he nigiht mistake the words En
arriere, i'or en  avant, and lead us back to Paris, instead
of marching to Jerusalem.  His politic hlead hIas learned by this time, that there is miore to be gotten by oppressing his feudatories, and  pillaging  hlis allies, than
figlitifg withl the Turks for tile Holy Sepulchre."
"They might choose the Arclhduke of Austria," said
De Vlaux.
" What! because lie is big and burley like thyself,
Tlhomas-nearly as thick-hleaded, bhut without thy indif
terence to danger, and carelessness of otfihnce?  1 tell
thee tllhat Austria has in all that mass of flesh no bolder
animation, than is afforded by the peevishness of a wasp,
and the courage of a wren.  Out upon him!-he a
leader of chivalry  to  deeds of1 glory!-Give Iim a
flagon of Rhenish to drink with' his besmirched baarenllanlters and lance-knechts."
" There is tilheGrand MAaster of the Templars," continued the baron, not sorry to keep lhis master's attention
engaged on other topics thlan h]is own illness, thoughl at
the expense of the characters of prince and potentate" There is the Grand Master of the Templars," lie continued, " undaunted, skilful, brave in battle, and sage in
council, having no separate kingdoms of his own to divert his exertions from, the recovery of the Holy Land
-whlat thinks your Majesty of the AMlaster as a general
leader of the Christian host?"
*' Ha, Beau-Seant?" answered the King.  "Oh, no
exception can be taken to Brother Giles Amaury —:le
understands the ordering of a battle, and the figllting in
front when it begins.  Buit, Sir Thomas, were it fair to
take the Holy Land from the heathen Saladin, so full of
all the virtues wvhich may distinguish unchristened  man,
a-id give it to Giles Amaury, a worse Pagan than himself —an  dolater-a devil-worshipper-a necromancer
-wh'  practises crimes the most dark and unnatur




q2         1TALIES OF THE CUIUSADERS.
in llte valllIs and secret pllaces of abomination a   (larkness?'
" The Grand Mlaster of tile Hospitallers of St. John
of Jerusalem  is not tainted by fanme, eithei with hereby
or lnagic," said Thomas (le Vaux.
" Blut is he not a sordid miser?" said Richard, hastily; "L has lie not been suspected-ay, more than suspected-of selling to the infidels those advantages which
they would never have won by fair force?  Tush, nman,
better give the army to be made merchandize of by
Venetian skippers and Lombardy pedlars, than trust it to
the Grand Master of St. John."
"Well, then, I will venture but another guess," said
the B3aroll de Vaux-" What say you to the gallant Marquis of  Montserrat, so wise, so elegant, slch a good
m-lan-at-al'ris?"
" WCise? cunning, you would say," replied Richard;
" elegant in a lady's chamber, if you will.  Oh, ay,
Conrade of Montserrat, who knows not the popinjay?
Politic and versatile, lie vill cllange you his purposes as
often as the triimmings of his doublet, and you sliall never ble able to guess the hue of  his inmnost vestments fiom
their outward colours.  A man-at-arms? *ay, a fine figure on horseback, and can bear him well in the tilt-yard,
and  at the  barriers, when  swords  are  blunted  at
point and edge, and spears are tipped with trenches of
wood, instead of steel-pikes.  Wert thou not with me,
when I said to that same gay marquis,' Here we be,
three good Christians, and on yonder plain there pricks
a band of some threescore Saracens, what say you to
charge them  briskly? There are but twenty unbelieving
miscreants to each true knight.' "
" I recollect the Marquis replied," said De Vaux,
" that his limbs were of flesh, not of iron, anti that he
woul(l rather bear the heart of a man tllan of a b)east,
tllougll  that beast were the lion.  But I see Ihow it iswe shall end where we began, without hope of praying
at the Sepulchre, until Heaven shall restore King Richard to health.''




THE TALIS MAN.                     "3
At this grave remark, Richard burst out into a hearty
fit of laughter, the first which he had for some tilne in
dulged in.  " Why, what a thing is conscience," lie said,'-that thlrouC)    its mneans even such a thick-witted norll.
ern lord as thou can'st brinm tihy sovereign to confess his
folly!  It -is true, that, did tliey not propose themselves
as fit to hold my leadill-stafl; little slhoul] 1 care  fot
Pluckling the silken trappings off tile pluppets thou hlast
~llonwn me in succession  What concerns it me what
fine tinsel robes they swag-oel in, unless when they are
named as rivals in the glorious enterprize to whlich I
lhave vowed myself?  Yes, De Vaux, I confess my
weakness, and the wilfulness of my ambition.  The
Christian camp contains, doubtless, many a better'knight
than  Richard of' England, and it would be wise and
worthy to assign to the best of them the leading of the
ihost-but," continued the warlike monarch, raising himself in his bed, and shaking tlhe cover fiorm  his head,
while his eyes sparkled as they were wont to do on the
eve of battle, " were such a knight to plant the banner
of the Cross on the Temple of Jerusalem, while I was
unable to bear my share in the noble task, lie should,
so soon as I was fit to lay lance in rest, undergo my
challenge to mortal combat, for having diminislled my
fame, and pressed in before to the object of my  enterprize.-But hark, what trumpets are those at a distance?"
"Those of King Philip, as 1 guess, my liege," said
the stout Englishman.
"' Thou art dull of ear, Thomas," said the King, endeavomuing to start up- " hearest thou not that clash
and clang?  By Heaven, the Turks are in the camp1 hear their lelies.'"
He again endeavoured to get out of bed, and De Vaul
was obliged to exercise his own great strength, andl alsc
~ The uwar-cries of the Mosle mah.




84           TALES OF THE  CRUSADE1R:,P.
to summon tile assistance of tile cliamberlai b fi'ol  tIhe
inner lent to restrainl lim.
" l'lTot art a false traitor, De Vaux," said the incensed monarch, when, breatllless anli exhausted witlh struggling, lie was cotnl)elled to submit to superior strength,
and to repose in quiet on hlls couch.  "1 wotuld I were
-1 would 1 were but strong  enough to dash thy brains
out with my battle-axe."
"I would you had the strength, my liege," said De
Vaux, " and Iwould even take the risk of its being so
employecl.   Th'le  odds would  be great in fiavolur of
Chlristendom, were Thlomas Multon dead, and Ceur de
Lion himnself again."
" Mine hlonest iaithftil servant," said Richard, extending hlis  hand, whllich  the  baron  reverentially saluted,'' forgive tlly master's imrpatience of mood.  It is this
burninlg fever whichl chides tliee, and not thy kind lnaster, Riclhard of England.  But go, I I)rithee, and bring
me wvord what strIancgers are in the  camp, for these
soundrls are not of Christendoml."
D)e Vaux left the pavilion on the errand assigned, and
in llis absence, which lhe had resolved should be brief,
he c}harged the chamiberlainl's pages and attendants to
redouble tleir attention on tlheir sovereign, with threats of
holdclig them  to resplonsibility, which ratherl' atdded to
than cliininiished their timid anxiety in the discharge of
their duty; for next, peilmaps, to thle ire of tile lmonarcll
hilnsellf, they drelded that of the stern and  irexorable
lord azf Giisland.1




THE TALISMAN.                       8t5
CHAPTER VII.
There never was a time on the March parts yet,
When Scottish with English met,
But it was marvel if the red blood ran not
As the rain does in the street.
Battle of Otterbmorne.
A CONSIDERABLE band of Scottish warriors hadl joined:ihe crusaders, and had natulrally placed themselves under
lihe cotnmand of' tile English monarch, being like his native
troops, most of them, of Saxon and Norman dtescent, speaking the same languages, possessed, some of them, of
English as xvell as Scottish demnesnes, and allied in some
cases, by blood and intermarriage.  The period also preceded that when the grasping  ambition of Edward I.
gave a deadly and envenomed character to the wars betwixt the two nations; the English fighting for the subjugation of Scotland, and tile Scottislh, with all the stern
determination and obstinacy which has ever characterized their nation, for the defence of their independence, by
the most violent means, under the most disadvantageous
circum stances, and at the most extreme hazard.  As yet,
wars betwixt the two nations, though fierce and frequent,
had been conducted on principles of  fair hostility, and
admitted of those softening shades by whiclh courtesy, and
the respect for open and generous Ioemen, qualify and
mitigate tihe horrors of war.   In time of peace, tlleefore, and especially when both, as at present, were engaoged in war, waged in behalf of a common cause, and
rendered dear to them by their ideas of religion, thle adventurers of both countries firequently fougllt side by side,
tlheir national emutlation servinfl onlly to stimintlate thlein
to excel eactl othier in thteir efforts against tle coIaluon
VOL. 1I.




8o0'1'ATALES OF THEl  CI. IADEIS.I
Tlie franl and martial  calliracter of Richart,, riwho t.lade
no  lisinctiotiJ lctw\ixt hiis w\ViI.sublljects allf thlioseeof XVilli mm   of'    ciht;llln,  exce4i ntig  as thle  bore thlleliselves
in tile fielt of battle, tendleit  lluclil to Conciliatef tile troOps
of bothl nations.  Blut tip)on Ills illness, and tile disadvantageous circuinstailces in \whv}icl the crusaders were placed,
tile national distlnion between tile variots bands united in
tle crusade, began to display itself; just as old wounds'break out afresh in tile hulman tbody, when under the influence of dise;se or deblity.
Tlhe Scottish arid Englisll, equally jealous and highspirited, and apt to take offience,  tle formcer the more
so, because tile poorer and thle wealker nation,-began to
fill up, by internal dissension, the period when the truce
forbade them to wreak their united vengeance on the
Saracens.  Like the contending Roinan chiefs of old,
the Scottishl would admit no superiority, and their soutlihern neighbours would brook no equality., There were
charges and recrimrinations, and both thle common soldiery,
and their leaders, and commnanders, lwho had been good
comrades in time of victory, lowered  on each otlier in
the period of adversity, as if their union had not been
then more essential than ever, not only to the success of
their common cause, but to their joint safety.  The same
disunion had begun to show itself betwixt the French
and Elinglish, the Italians and the Gerlmans, and even between the Danes and Swedes; but it is only that which
(livided the two nations whom one island bred, and who
seemed more animated against each other for the very
reason,.that our narrative is principally concerned with.
Of all the English nobles who had followed their King
to Palestine, De Vaux was most prejudiced against the
Scottish; they were hlis near neiglhbotirs, with whlom  he
had been enlgagedl dulring  his whole li'e in private or public wlare, and on whom lie had inflicted many calamities,
while lie had sustained at their hands not a few.  Hl is love
and devot ion to the King was like tlhe vivid affection of tlhe
old English inastiff to his master, leaving limn churlisht and
iiaccess;ble to all otliemr., even towari-ds thtose to whoim




THE TALISMAN.                      87
Aie was indlifferent, and rough and dangerous to any ay agains
whlomn he entertained a prejudice.  De Vaux had nevel
I:bserved, without jealousy and dlispleasure, his King exhibit any rmark  of courtesy or favour to thle wicked, deceitful, and ferocious race, born on the other side:f a
river, or an inmaginary lihne drawn throughl waste andt wniltderness, and lie even doubted tile success of a crusade,
in which they were suffered to bear arims, holding them
in his secret soul little better than' thle Saracens kwhonl
lie came to conmbat.  It may be added, that as being
hiinself a blunt and downriglht Englishnman, unaccustomed
to conceal tle slightest movement either of love or of
dislike, he accounted the fair-spoken courtesy, which
the Scots had learned, either firom imitation of their frequent allies, the French, or wllich might have arisen from
thieir own proud andl reserved character, as a false and
astucious tnark of the most dangerous designs against their
neigltbours, over whom lie believed, with genuine Englisli confidence, they could by fair nmanhood never obtain
alnv advantage.
Yet tlhough De Vaux entertained these sentiments concerninog his northern neiglhbours, and extended them  with
little imitigation even to such as had assumed thle Cross, Ilis
-espect for the King, and a sense of the duty imposed
sy his vow as a crusader, prevented him from displaying
them otherwise than by regullarly shunning all intercourse
wvith his Scottish brethren-at-arms, as far as possible,ey observing a sullen taciturnity, whien compelled to meet
hem occasionally,-and by looking scornfully upon tilem
v-rhen they encountered on thle marci and in camp.  The. ottisli barons and kniglits were not nmen to bear his
orin unobserved or unreplied to; and it came to that
pass that he was regarded as the determined and active
enlemy of a nation, whom, after all, he only dlisliked, and
in some sort despised.   Nay, it was remarked by close
observers, that if he had not towards them  tIle cllarity
of Scripture, whvich suffereth long and judges kindly, lie
was by no lneans deficient in the subordinate and limited
virtue, which alleviates and relieves the wants of others.
TIhe wealth of ThLomas of Gilslnd proculred supplies it




TLES OF TIHE CRUSADRERSs
provisions and medicines, and some of these olsuall3
flowed by secret channels into the quarters of the Scottish; his surly benevolence proceeding on the principle,
that, next to a man's friend, his foe was of most importance to him, passing over all the intermediate relations,
as too indifferent to  merit even  a  thought.    Thi..
explanation is necessary, in order that the reader ma,
fully understand what we are now to detail.
T'homas de Vaux had not made many steps beyonl6
the entrance of the royal pavilion, when he was aware o,
what the far more acute ear of the English monarch, no
mean proficient in the art of minstrelsy, had instantly
discovered, that the musical strains, namely, whicil had
reaclied their ears, were produced by the pipes, shalms,
and kettle-drums of the Saracens; and at the bottom
of an avenue of tents, which formed a broad access to
the pavilion of Richard, le could see a crowd of idle
soldie(rs assembled around the spot fromn  which tlhe music
w-,s heard, almost in the centre of the calnp; and lie saw,
with great surprise, mningled amid the helmnets of various
forlms worn by tlhe crusaders of' different nations, white
turlhaiis and long plikes, announcing the presence of armed
Saraeens, and the huge deformed heads of several camels
or dlcrciledaries, overlooking the multitude by aid of their
lou,o; dispi oportioned necks.
WA olndering anid displeased at a sight so unexpected
anld singular,-fior it was customary to leave all flags -i
tiuce and other communications from  the enemy at an
appointced place wvithout the barriers,-tle baron lock:;'
eagerly round for some one of whom lihe might iniul'
tlh cause of thlis alarming novelty.
Time first person  vlhom  he met advancing to hlim, hle
set down at once, by his grave and lhaugllty step, as a
Spaniard or a Scot; antd presently after muttered to Ihimself-" Andt  a Scot it is —he of the Leopalrd.-l have
seen him figlit indifferently well for one of his counltry."
Loath to ask even a passing question, lie was about
to pass Sir Kennett, with that sullen and lowering port
W-lichl selems to say, 1" know thee, blit I will hold no




THE  TALISMAN.                       S9
oilnmmltnication withl thee;" but his purpose was defeated
by tile northern knighlt, wlo moved fbrwva, d directly to Ihim,
arnd accosting hin with formnal courtesy, said, " My Lord
de Vaux  of Gilsland, I hlave in charge to speak witll yoU."
"Ha!" returned the English baron, " with me?  But
say your pleasure, so it be-shortly spoken-I am on the
King's errand."
" Mine toucllhes King Richard yet more nearly," answered Sir Kenneth; " I bring him, I trust, health."
The Iord of G(;ilsland measured the Scot with incredulou.s eyes, i:.ld replied, " Thcu  art no leech, I think
Sii' Scot-I had as soon thought of your bringing thel
KIilg of.Errgland wvealth."
Sir Kenrnethl, thougll displeased  with the manner ot
the baron's rel)Iv, answered calmly; " iealth to Richard
glory and wealtlh to Christendo n.-.But my time press; 1 I:pray you, mnay I see the King?"
"Surely not, faiir sir," said  tl-e baron,' until your
errand be told more (listinctly.  The sick chambers of
princes open not to all who inquire, like a northern
lOstell-le."S
" iv lorld" said  Kenneth, " the cross which I wear
in commnlon witll yourself, and tile importance of what 1
hlave to tell, inust,!'or the p)resenlt, cause tne to pass over
a.eariilg   wlli'l else I were unapt. to endure.  In plain.
lang-uage  theii,   I bring with  me a Moorish physician,
who underta kes to work a cure on Kin g Richalrd."
"A  M'loorish plhysicianl!" saild De Vauxs;' and who
twill wvarrlant thlat lie brints not poisons instead of remedies?"
"His otwn life, my lord-his head, which he offers as
a gtlariallltee.'
I lave known  Imn aIv a resolulte rllffian,  saidl PD
V'atlx, " wlho valtled hlis ownll li'e.as little as it deserved.
and \-ould op to I me gallows as mlerrily as if the hlanlg.
nanlll w     ste're mis }tIrtt.m  in a danc'c."'
[~ tit thiuls it is, 1!iv lord,:'  rep)lied the Scot; " Sala
dtin..o wvhloml none %will deny the credit of' a ge,ier'o,i
VOL,. II.




3)0           TALES OF TH-E CRUSADERS.
anti valiant enemy, hath sent this leech liither witl ai.
honourable retinue and guard, befitting the igh esti    a
tion in which El Hakirn2 is hel(d by the Soldan, and with
fi'jits and refreshlaients for the King's p)rivate ch llalnber,
an1d such  (message as mnay pass betwixt bo)noura!-bie enemies, praying  hiln to be recovered of llis fever, thlat. he
may l)e tlhe fitter to receive a visit friom thle Soldan, with
his naked scymitar in his hand, and all hulllcred thlolusand.avaliers at his back.  Will it please   onl, who are oi
tile Kinlg's secret council, to cause tllese camllels to be
dtiscl.arged of their burdens, and sornie order taken as to
the receltion of the learned pllysicianl?"
"'Wonderfuil!" said De Vaux, as speaking to himself
-"  And who will vouch ftor tile honour of Saladin, in a
case vwhen bad faith would rid  him  at once of his most
powerful adversary)?"
" I myself,;" replied Sir Kenneth, " will be his guarantee, with h1onou~:, life, and fortune."
" Strange!"  again e jaculated De Vaux;' tlhe North
vouches for the Soutthl-the Scot for tlle Turk!-  l ay I
crave of you, sir knight, flow you became' concerned in
this affair?'
" I have been absent on a pilgrimage, in tlme course of
which," repliedt Sir Kennetli,' I hlad a Iessage to disilcharge towards the hloly hermit of Engaddi."'. May I not be intrusted with it, Sir Kenneth, and with
tile answer of the lloly man?"'' It m-ay not be, mly lo(rd,]'  answered the Scot.
"1 am  of the secret council of England," said the
Engllishman, hatlghtily.
To wvhich 1and1  I owe no allegiance," said Kenneth.
I'Tlioughl I have volulltarily folloswed in this war the personal fortunes of England's sovereign, I was despatclletl
by the General (ouncil of' tlme kings, prilnces. and stlpreine leaders of tile arnlly of the Blessed Cross, amnd to
thenm only I rendel iny errand."
I -a! say'st tlhou?" said thle proud baron D)e Vaux.
" But knowv, messenger of tile kings ant( pritnces as thou
mrayst be, no leechl slhall al)proach thle sick-bed of Ri'hard of




THE TAlISMAYN                        91
Eiglandl, withlout tile consent of hlim of Gilsland; and
thl-y;vili collle on evil erranld who dare to intrude  theInselves  galilst it."
He xwas turning loftily away, whlen thle Scot placing
himself closer, andl more opposite to  himll, asked, in a
calm voice, yet not witliotut exl)ressing hlis sllhae of pride,
whether the Lord of Gilsland esteemed him a gentleman
and a good knight.
"All Scots are ennobled by their birth-right," answered Thomas de Vaux, something ironically; but, sensible
of his own injustice, and perceiving that Kennetll's colour
rose, lie added, " For a good knight it were sin to doubt
you, in one at least who has seen you well and bravely
discharge your devoil,."
"' Well, tllen," said the Scottish knight, satisfied with
the frankness of the last admission, " and let mne swear
to you, Thomas of' Gilsland, that as I am  true Scottish
man, which I hold a privilege equal to my ancient gentry,
and as sure as I am a belted knighlt, and comne hlitlier to
acquire los* and frame in this mortal life, and forgiveness
of tny sins in that which is to come-so truly., and by tile
)lessed Cross which I wear, do I protest unto )'ou, that
I desire but the safety of Richard Cceur de Lion, in recommending the ministry of this MoIslem physician."
The Englishllman was struck with the solemnity of the
obtestation, and answered with more cordiality than lihe
had yet exhibited, "Tell me, Sit Knight of the Leopard,
granting, (which I do not doubt,) that thout art thyself
satisfied in this matter, shall I do well, in a land where
the art of poisoning is as general as that of cooking, to
bring this unknown physician to practise with his drugs
~n a health so valuable to Chllristendom?"
"My lord," replied the Scot, " tlhus only can I reply;!hat my squire, the only one of my retinlue whom war
and disease had left in attendance on me, has been of
late sufferiing dangerotusly under thi's same fever, whlichl,
in valiant King Richard, has disabled the princil)al lilmbJ
Los, —ans, praise, or renown.




92           TALES OF TIHE CRUSADEIR.S.
of our holy entelrprize.  T'lis leech, this El1 Haliinm, }lath
rlitnistered remedies to him not two liours since, andl alt eat v
lie lhath fallen into a refIes!ling sleepl. Th'1'at hleca 11cure till:
disorder, whlich hlas )provcd so tfltal, I illothiln'; doulht  lthlla
he lhatlh the Itpurpose to do it, is, I thnk, w li, vl.lranted li
this mission ft01oi1 tile royal Soldlan, Whilo is tlrue-lhearted
and loval, so far as a blinded infidlel may le called so;
and, for his eventual success. tile' certilnty of reward in
case of succeedinl, and )pulislllnent in case of volunltarv
failure, imayt be a sufficiellt laal'niltee."
The Englishilan listened witl; (downcast look.s, as cne
wlho douhlltel, yet was not unwl\illilg to receive conviction.
At length lie looked up and said, " llay I see your sick
squire, fair sir?"
The Scottish knight hesitated  and coloured, yet answered at last, " Willingly, my Iord of Gilsland; h)ut
yolu must remember, when you see my poor quarters,
tl:at the nobles and kniglhts of Scotland feed not so high,
sleep not so soft, and care not for tile miagnificence of
lodgeiment, which is proper to their southern neighbours.
I arm poorly lodge(d, Imy Lord of GCilsland," lie added,
vjitlh a hlaughty elmpha.sis on tile word whllile witlh so)e uilNillingness hle led the way to lis temp!orary place of abode.
Whatever wvere the prejudices of De Vaux aga.inst tlhe
nation of his new acquaintance, and thoughl we undertllke
not to deny that some of tlhese were excited by its proverbial poverty, lhe had too much nobleness of disposition to enrjoy the mortification of a brave individual, thus
compelled to make known wants which his pride would
gladly have concealed.
" Shame to the soldier of the Cross," le said, " who
thinks of worldly splendour, or of luxurious accommodation, when pressing forward to the conquest of the
tHoly City.  Fare as hard as we may, we shall yet lhe
better thtan the host of martyrs and of saints, whlo, having
trod   these scenes before us, now  hold golden lamps
and evergreen palms."
This was the most metaphorical speech which Thomas
cf Gilsland was ever known to utter, the rather perhaps




THE TALISMAN.'                   93
(as will sometimes happen,) that it did not entire y express his own sentimenlts, being somewhat a lover ol
good cheer and splendid accommnodation.  By this timel
they reached the place of the campnl, where tile Knilght oi
the Leopard had assumned his abode,
Appearances here did indeed promise no breach of the
laws of rnortification, to which the crusaders, according
to the opinion expressed by him  of Gilsland, ought to
subject thermselves.  A space of. ground, large enouglh to
accommodate perhaps thirty tents, according to the crusaders' rules of' castrametation, was partly vacant-because, in ostentation, the knight had demanded ground to
the extent of his original retinue-partly occupied by a
few  miserable huts, hastily constructed of boughs, and
covere(l with palmn leaves.  These habitations seemed entirely deserted, and several of them were ruinous.. The
central hut, which represented the pavilion of the leader,
wvas distilng2uissled by his swallow-tailed pennon, placed on
tile point of a spear; from which its long folds dropt motionless to the ground, as if sickening under the scorching rays of the Asiatic sun.   But no pages or squires,
not even a solitary warder, was placed by the emblem of
feudal power and knightly  degrees.  If its reputation
defended it not from insult, it had no other guard.
Sir Kenneth cast a melancholy look around him, but,
suppressing his feelings, entered the hut, making a sign to
tile Baron of Gilsland to follow.  He also cast arotind a
glance of examination, which implied pity not altogether
unmingled withl contempt, to which, perhaps, it is as nearly akin as it is said to be to love.  He then stooped his
lofty crest, and entered a lowly hut. which his bulky form
seemed almost entirely to fill.
T'he interior of the hut was chiefly occup;ed by two
beds.  One was empty, but composed of collected leaves.
and spread with an antelope's hide. It seemed firom t{he
articles of armourI laid beside it, and from a crucifix of
ilV er, carefully and reverentially disposed, at the head, to
be the cochll of the knight himself.  The other contain-,Id he invalid, of whom Sir Kennethl had spoken, a strong




9-'rTAIES OF T'IIE  CRUSADERS.
bulilt and harsh-fetatured Jalnal, past, ls lis lo s het(Jl, eect
the nliddie age of life.   His c(ol;'l i weas triolnllnts niore
soitly th an his n11aster's, aid( it was plain, llhat tlIe more
courtly garinents of tlhe latter, tile loose  ohbe, in xxlhich
the knihllts showed.themselves on lpacific occasions, and
the other little spare articles of dress and adertollent, hlad
been applied by Sir Kenneth to tile acconlllnodationl of
his sick domlestic.  In an outward part of thle llut, x hilch
yet was within the range of the English  baron's eye, a
boy, )rudlIv attired with buskins of deer's hlide, a bluei cap
or bonne,, and a doublet, whose original finery was muich
tarnished, sat on his knees by a chafing-dish (illed witli
charcoal, cooking upon a plate of iron the cakes of barley-bread, which were then, and still are, a fiavourite ibod
with the Scottish people.   Part of an antelope xwas sispended  against one of the main props of the lnlt, nor
was it difficult to know how it had been procured; for a
large stag greyhound, nobler in size and appearance than
those even which guarded King Richard's sick-bed, Iay
eyeing the process of baking the cake.   The sagaciouls
animal, on their first entrance, uttered a stifled  gIrowl,
which sounded from his deeo chest.!qke distant thuntlder.
But he saw his master, arnd acknoiwledged his presence
by wagging his tail and co;lching his head, abstainillg from
more tumultuous or noisy greeting, as if his noble instinct
had taught him the propriety of silence in a sick nman's
chamber.
Beside the couch, sat on a cushion, also composed of
skins, the Moorish physician of whom Sir Kenneth had
spoken, cross-legged, after the Eastern  fashion.  The
imperfect light showed little of llim, save tllat the lower
part of his face wvas covered with a long black beard,
which descended  over his breast-that lie wore a high
tol4ach, a Tartar cap of the lamnb's Nwool manrifactutred at
Astracan, bearing the samne dusky colour, ancld tat his
ample caftan, or Turkish robe, was also of a dark linte.
I.wo piercing eyes, which gleamed with unusual ltustre
were the only lineaments of his visage that could be discernod amid the rdark.ness in whiich hle wnas' enveloped




THE  TALISMAN 
The'S   Eiglish lord  stood silent with a sort of reverential
awe;  for, notwithstanding  tile rouglihness of his genceral
bearing, a scene of distress and poverty, firmly erldured
without complaint or inlrlllurlnr, would  at any time have
claimed more reverence friom  Thomias de Vaux, than
rwould all the splendid formtalities of a royal preselcechamber, unless thlat presence-chamber were King Riichaird's own.  Nothing was, for a timre, heard, but the heavy
and regular breathings of the invalid, who seemeld     in
profotund repose.
"He  h lath not slept for six nights before," said Sir
Kenneth, " as I am assutred by the youth, his attendant."
" Noble Scot," said  Tthlnas de Vaux, grasping  the
Scottishi knighllt's hand, with a  )pressure which hadl ifnore
of cordiality than lie permlitted hlis words to utter; " thlis
gear must -:e atnendedl-Your esquire is but too evil fed
and looked to."
In the latter part of this speech, lie naturally raised lhis
voice to its usual decided tone.  Trhe sick man was disturbed in his slumlbers.
MLy master," lie said, Imttrmu;rin  as in a dreamn,
" noble Sir Kenneth-taste not, to you as to me, the waters of the Clyde coldl adl ere-freslling, after thie brackish
sl)rini(s of' Palestine?"' Het dreanls of his tnative land, and  is happy in his
sliumbers,"  whispered Sir Kenneti to De Vaux; Iut had
scarce uittered the words, when the physician, arising fiomn
the place whichl he had taken near the couch of tihe sic k,
and laying the hand of the patient, whose pulse lie had
t.cclm t ar,:siully watchlng, quietly upon the couch, calc lo
tlhe two knights, and taking them each by the arm, whlile
he inttimated to them  to remain silent, led them  t)o hlie
fi'olt of the inlt..
"In the name of Issa Ben 5Mariam," lie said, " wholitn
we h )nlmour as v'i, ti'o)lhlli not w vthI the sanm  blindted,i;1pe.rstition, distulrb not the ef..fct of the blessed rmedicine
-of' which  lie- hlath partakcm.   TI o  awaXLen him  now, is
tie-ath or deprivation of reason; btit return  at thie liotu,lhe i the Muezzin calls fron thfie minaret to evening pravec
7'9L




TALES OF THE CIRUSAI)EISI.
in the mosque, and, if left undisturbed until thenl, I promise you, this same Frankish soldier shall he ab)le. withoilt
prejudice to his health, to hold some brief converse with
you, on any matters on which either, and especially his
master, nay'lave to question him."
The kniglhts retreated before the authoritative commands of the leech, who seemed fiully to comprelend
the importance of the Eastern  proverb, that the sickl
chamber of the patient is the kingdom  of the phylsiciian.
They paused, and remained standing together at the
door of' the hut, Sir Kennetlh, witlh tahe  air of one who
expected his visiter to say farew-ell —aid De Vaux, as if
be had sonmething on hlis mind which pievenited  him
fromn doing so.  The houndd, hlowever, had pressed out
of the tent after theln, and now thrust his long rough cout1tenance into the hand of his master, as if mnodestly soliciting some mark of his kindness.   He had no sooner
received the notice wlhich he desired, in the shape of a
kind word and slight caress, than, eager to acknowledge
his gratitude, and joy for his master's return, lie flew off
at full speed, galloping in full career, and with outstretched tail, here and there, about and around, cross-ways and
endlong, through the decayed huts, and the esplanade we
have described, but never transgressing those precincts
which his sagacity knew were protected by hlis 1master's
pennon.  After a few gambols of this kind, thle (log, coiiiing close up to his master, laid at once aside his frolicsome
mood, relapsed into his usual gravity and slowness of
gesture and deportment, and looked as if lie were asliamed that any thing should have moved him to depart so far
out of his sober self-control.
Both knights looked on with pleasure; for Sir Kenneth was justly proud of his noble hound, and the northern English baron was of course an at,ul'irer of the chase,
and a judge of the animal's merits.
"A right able dog," lhe said; " I think, fair sir, King
Ricllard bath not an alan whic  lnay matchll him, it lie be
as  stanch as he is swift.  But let me pray you —s-ple(lakrmg in all honour and kindness-have you not  hersul thit




THE TALISMAN. 
proclatnation, that no one, under the rank  of earl, shaI:!
keep  hunting dogs witliin King Richard's camp, Awithiiout
tile royal license, whichl, I think, Sir Kenneth, hath not
been issued to you?-1  speak as Masl.ter of tile 11orse."
"And I answer as a free Scottish knigllt, " saiil Itennetl, sternly.   " For the present I follow  thle ha:-IIer ol
England, but I cannot remll.ember that I lLave ever subjected mnyself to the  forest-laws of tl]hat kingdom, nor,:ave I suchl respect for tihemn  as wouldi illcline rme to do
so.  Wllen tile trumpet sounds to arlmls, ylly  loot is ill tIle
stirrup as soon as any-vllen it clangs lor tlle charge, ny
lance lhas not yet beenthle last laid in tlhe rest.  ilut for
my hours of liberty or of idleness, King Richard h1as no
title to bar my recreation."'Nevertheless," saidl De Vaux, " it is a folly to disobey  tile King's ordinance-so, withl  your' good  leave,
1, as having autlhority in thlat matter, will senld )otu a protectlon for my friend here."
" 1 thank you," said the Scot, coldly; "bt lie knows
my allotted  quarters, and   ithllin these I can (I, ot(:ct lillm
myself.-Andc yet," lie said,suddenl y chlangir,' Ihis  nlinner, "' this is btut a cold  return  tfor a \xvll-neant kijitlness.  I tlank you, imy lord, most lhear.tily.'I'lic Kinit's
equerries, or prickers, migllt find Rloswal at disatdvantage, and do him some injury, whllicl I slloul(l not., I'rTllltps,
De slow in returnilnr, and so ill Iniglit coline of it.  Yotu
have seen so mtcll of my llouse-keeping, mly  lord," 1 e
added  wvith a smile, "L that I need not slIame to say that
Roswal is our prilcipal purveyor; and well 1 liope our,ion Richard will not be like thle lion in thle minlstrel fable,
tlhat went a-lluntin0, and kept the whole booty to himlnself.
I cannot think lie would grudge a poor gentleman, who
follows llim  faithfull y, lis Ilour of sport, andcl llis morsel o
game, more especially lwhen other food is llaLd enough
to colne by."' By mty fa ith, you 11o the King 7,o  more than jllstice
-'("id yet," said the barorn, "thlere is sotnethitng   itl thesef
u VOL. 11




98          TATLES 0' TiIle', CRUSADERS.
words, vert and venison, that turns the very brains of our
Norman princes."
"We tlave heard of late," said tile Scot, "' by minstrels
and pilgrims, tllat your outlawed )eomen have forrned
great bands iii the shires of York and Nottingham, liaving
at tlheir head a most stout archer, called Robin Hood,
with liis lieutenant, Little John.  iNetilinks it were better
ihat Riichard relaxed his forest-code in England, than
endeavoured to eniorce it in tile Holy Land."
"  Vild work, Sir Kennetll," replied De Vaux, shr11u —
ging his shoulders, as one w\!ho Nwould avoid a perilous or
tilipleasing topic.-" a nmad world, sir.-I mulst now htid
Voun adieu, having presentlv to return to ilhe Kin~''s rilion.  At vespers, i will again, xwithl your leave, visit your
qua;rters, andl speak witil this same infidel:llIysician.  I
would, in thle meantime, were it no cffence, willingly se-nd
you wihat would somewlhat Mlenld your cheel."
"l tlank you, Silr," said Sir Kennetll, " but it needs
not; Roswal biathl already stocked my larder for two
weeks, since thle sun of IPalestine, if' it brings diseases,
serves also to dry venison."
The two warriors parted much better friends than they
had met; but ere they separated,Thcmas de Vaux'informed himself at more leingth of tlie circumstances attending
the mission of the Eastern pllTysician, andt received froni
thet, Scottish knight thle credentials wllicli he had brought
to King Richard on the part of Saladin.
CHAPTER VIII.
A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal,
Is more thanl arnies to tile conloln weal.
PPoE's l, ad.
" THIS is a strange tale, Sir Thomas,"' said the sick
monarch, when he had heard thle report of t-he trtisty




THE TALISMAN.          -99
Ia;'ron of Gilsland; " art thou sure this Scottishl man is:- tall llan and tlrue?"
"1  cannll  say, Ioy lord," rciliedl the jealolis Borderer,
1 live a little too near thie Scots to  Latler much truth
among them, having  ftotnd tiheml ever fair and false.  But
this man's bearing is that of a ttlue nman, were lie a devil
as wrell as a Scot —that I must needs say for him in consciellce."
"And for his carriage as a knight, how sr-yst ihcu, De
Vaux?" demanded the King.
I; It is your Majesty's business more than mine to note
mlen's bearings; and 1 wfarrant you llave noted the lnanner
in which this man of' the Leopard lhath borne himsellf.
He hath been fill well spoken of."
" And justly, Thomas," said the King.  " We have
ourselves witnessed him.  It is indeed our purpose in
placing ourselves ever in the flont of battle, to see how
our liegemen and followers acquit themselves, and not
firom a desire to accunmulate vain glory to ourselves, as
sotne hiave supplosed.  We know the vanity of the praise
of man, whic1 is but a vapour, alid buckle on our armour
for other purposes than to win it."
T)e Vaux was alarmed when he heard the King make
a declaration so inconsistent with his nature, and believed
at first that nothing short of the approach of death could
have brought him to speak in depreciating terms of lnilItary renown, which was the very breath of his nostrils.
But recollecting he had met the royal confessor in tlhe
outer pavilion, le vwas slrewd enough to place thistemporarS self-abasement to tlhe effect of tile reverend man's
esson, and suffered the King to proceed withot;t reply.
6 Yes," continued Richlar(d, "1I hIave indeed marked
tlie manner in which this knight does his devoir.  y3,
leading-staff we'e not worth a fool's baulble, had lie
escaped imy notice-and lie lhad( ere now tasted of oui
bounty, but that I have also mnarked }his overweening and
audaciiotls presllmpiption."'5 ITv liege," said the B3aron of Gilsland, observimig the
K;il',,'s collntellance -'hange,'' 1 earI  I hlave transgressed




t00          TALES OF THE  CRUSADElRs.
your pleasure in lending some countenance to his tra:,N
" t-loVw, De IMulton, thou?" sai(l the King, contracting his brows, and speaking in a tone of angry suLrprise,
—''T I'llou counterlance hlls insolence!  It cannot be."
"Nay, your Majesty wvill pardon me to retlinc  yolu,
l;:at I  lave by mine office right to grant liberty to Inen
Oct geltle blood, to keep tliem a hlound or tzwo within
canmp, jlust to cherisli tile noble art of venerie; and bes des, it were a sin to hlave mailled or harllled a thing so
inoble as tilis genltlelnan's doto."
" las lie thlen a dog so llantlsolme?" said t!:e K1ing.
"A nmost perfect creature of t-leaven,'" said thle baron,
wh-o vwas ati entlltlsiast in field-sp)orts —"   of thle.ioblest
Nortllernl )reedl-(Ileep in tlle cllest, strong in the stern.
black coloir, andtl  brindled on t.lie breast, and legs, not
spotted witll l wite, but just shaded inrto grey-strelngth
to I!lll down a bull-swifiness to cote an antelope."
Trhe King laughed at his enthusiasm.  "Well, thou
hlast given him  leave to keep the hound, so there is an
end of it.  13e not, however, liberal  of your licenses
among those knights adventurers, who have no prince or
leader to  depend  upon —they  are ungovernable, and
leave no game in Palestine.-But to this piece of learned heathenesse-sayst thou the Scot met hilll in the
desert? "
"No, my liege, the Scot's tale runs thus:-He was
despatched to the old hermit of Engaddi, of whom men
talk so much — "
"'Sdeath and hell!" said Richard, starting up.  "By
whlom despatched, and for what?  Who (lared send any
oile tllither, when our Queen was in the Convent of
Il:tlgaddi, upon her pilgrimage for our recovery?"
" Th'lle Council  of the Crusade sent him, my lord,'.niswered the Baron de Vaux; " for what pulrpose, he
declined to account to me.  I think it is scarce known in
tile camip that your royal consort is on a pilrirnage-and
even tlie princes inay not have been aware, as the Queen




TIlE TALISMAN.                  101
lias been sequestered from company since your love prohibited lher attendance in case of' intection."
"W WVell, it shall be loolkcd into," said Richard. —  " So
thlis Scottish man, this en.voy, mnet with a wandering physician at the grotto of Engaddi  lla?"
"Not so, my liege, " replied De Vaux; "but he met, I
tlink, near that piace, with a Saracen Emir, with whom he
hlad some mellnee in the way of proof of valour, and finding
him worthy to bear brave nien company, thley went together, as errant kInights are wont, to tl;e grotto of Engaddi."
Here De V aux stopped, for lie was not one of those
who can tell a long story in a sentence.
"' And did tlhey thlere meet the physician?" demanded
the King, impatiently.;' No, my liege," replied De Vaux; " but the Saracen,
learning your Majesty's grievous illness, undertook that
Saladin should send his own l)hysician to you, and with
many assurances of his eminent skill; and lie came to
the grotto accordingly, after the Scottish knight had tarried a day for him  and mlore.  He is attended as if he
were a prince, with drums and atabals, and servants on!horse and foot, and brings with him letters of credence
from Saladini."
6 Have they been examined by Giacomo Loredani?
" I showed them to the interpreter ere bringing them
nither, and behold their contents in English."
Richard took a scroll, in which were inscribed these
words:-" The blessing of Allah and his Prophet Mahommed," (Out upon the hound! said Richard, spitting
in contempt, by way of interjection,) " Saladin, king of
kings, Soldan of Egypt and of Syria, the light and refiige of the earth, to the great Melech Ric, Richard o.
England, greeting.   Whereas, we have been informed
that the hand of sickness hath been heavy upon thee,
our royal brother, and that thou hast with thee only such
Nazarene and Jewish mediciners, as work without the
blessing of Allah and our holy Prophet," (Confusion on
this hleadl! again muttered the English monarch,) "~ we
22  vol,. Ir.




()2          TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
have therefore sent to tend and wait upon hee a% thi
timne, tlie physician to our own person, Adonbec el Hakim
before whlose lace the angel Azrael3 Spread(s his  ings,
anld leplarts firom  the sick cllamber; xwho knows the
virtues of' herbs and stones, tlle path of the sun, Inoonl
and stars, and can save man fiomi all that is not;xritten
on his forehead.  And this we do, praying you heartily
to hlonour and make use of his skill; not only that we
Inay do service to thiy worth and valour, whiie.lh is tile
glory of all the nations of Frangistan, but tlhat we may
bring the controversy whicll is at present between us
to an end, either by honolurable agreemnent, or by open
trial tllereof wkitlh our weapons, in a filir field; seeing
that it neither becomnes tlhy ilace and courage, to die the
deatlh of a slave who liatll been overwrought by his task-,naster, nor befits it our fame tlat a brave adversary be
snatclhed fronm  our weapon by such a disease.   And
therefore, may the h1oly  "
" Hold, hold," said Richlard, " I will hlave no more of
his dog of a Proplet    It' makes me sick to think the
valiant alid worthy Soldaii slhould believe in a tdead dog.
-Yes, I will see his lphysician.  I will )Lit mllyself illto
tlhe chal-ge of tlhis Hakliilm-I will rellay tlhe noble Soldan
his generosity-lI will meet Saladin ill tl e field, as lie so
worthliy  proposes, and lie slall have no cause to term
Ricllard oft' England ungratefal.   I w\ill strike him to thle
earth with my battle-axe-l will convert hlim  to Holy
Clhurch withl such blows as lie hias rarely endured-Ile
shall recant his errors before my good cross-handled
sword, and I will have hiI 1baptized in thle battle-field,
fromi my own heltmet, thoughl tile cleansing waters were
mixed with tlIe blood of us both.  Haste, De  Vaux,
why  dost thou dela:y a conclusion  so pleasing? fetch
the Ilakinm hither."
"My lord," said the baron, who perhaps saw sorje
accession of fever in this overflow of confidence, —" be-..hink you, the Soldan is a pagan, and that yonu are 1;s
imlost forlnidable enemy ——'




TIHE  I tLISMAN                   10'; For wh]lic  reason he is the more bound to do 1mt
service in this matter, lest a paltry fever end tile quarrel betwixt two such kings.  I tell thee, lie loves me
as I locve hinm-as noble adversaries ever love each other
-byv  oy lhonour, it were sin to doubt his good faith."
" Nevertheless, my lord, it were well to wait the issue
of these medicines upon the Scottish squire," said the
Lord of Gilsland; " my own life depends on it, for worthy were I to die like a dog, did 1 proceed raslily in tllis
matter, and make shipwreck of the weal of Christendom."
" I never knew thee before hesitate for fear of' life,"
said Riclard, upbraidingly.
" Nor would I now, my liege," replied the stout-hearted baron,   save that yours lies at pledge as well as mny
-' Well, thou suspiciouls mortal," answeredl Richlard(
begone tllen, and watcll thle progress of tills rellledy.
I cotld almeost wish it mighlt eithler cure or kill mie, obr I
am weary of lying!here like an ox dying of the murrain,
wh)en tailbouris are beating, horses staillping, anld trumllpets
sounding wi.lout.'"
The baron hastily departed, resolved, however, to communicate hlis errand to soine cllurclinan, as lie felt somlething burdened in conscience at tile idea of his master
being attended by an unbeliever.
The Arcltbishop of Tyre was the first to whom he conGfied his doubts, knowin.g his interest witlh his master,
Richard, who ",othl loved and  hlonoutred tlhat salgaciotls
prelate.  The bishop heard,the lolitbis whicih l)e Vauix
stated, witli that acuteness of intelligence  which distiziguishes the  lonian  Catholic  clergy.   Tle religionls
scruples of De Vaux, he treated withl as much lightlness
as propriety permitted him to' exhibit on such a sulbject to
a layman.
"Meticiners," he said, " like the medicines which
they employed, were often usefiul, Wtiough the one wre
by birth or manners the vilest of humanity, as the others
are, in many cases, extracted from the basest materials.,Men m"y use the assistance of pagans and infidels," ]he




104         TATI,ES OF'TI' t  CRUSADI;n11S.
continued, " in their need, and there is reason to,h..i,
that one cause of their beinr  permitted to retnaill on eartll,
is, that thley migtit ininister to thle convenience of tr'ie
Christians-tlus, wve lawfully tmake slaves of' heatllel
capltives.-Again," proceeded the prelate,'" there is no
0oubt that tlie primitive Christians used tlhe services of
tile  nconvertetd heattien-l ilts, in tile sllip of Alexand.ia,
ir whllich the blessed Aplostle Pa'ul sailed to Italy, the sailors were doubtless pagans, yet wllat said tlle hloly saint
vllen their ministry  was needful-'.Visi hi in nayv
mtitser'int, vos salvi fJieri noin potestis'' Unless these
men abide in the sllip, ye cannot be saved.'-Again,
J(,.ws are infidels to Cllhristianity, as well as MalhomnmedaUns.  But there are few plhysicians in the campi excepting Jews, and such are employed witllout scandal or scruple'llTherefore, Mahommedans may be used for their
service in that capacity-quod erat demonstrlandum.."
This reasoning entirely removed the scruples of Tlom-;as de Vaux, who was particularly moved bvy the Latin
(1-uotation, as lie did not understand a word of it.
But the bishop proceeded with far less fluency, when.le considered the possibility of the Saracen's acting with
bad faith; and here he came not to a speedy decision.
The baron showed him the letters of credence.  He read
and re-read them, and compared the original with the
translation.
" It is a dish choicely cooked," he said, " to the palate of King Richard, and I cannot but have my suspicions of the wily Saracen.   They are curious in the art
nt poisons, and can so temper them  that they shall be
weeks in acting upon the party, during  which time the
perpetrator has leisure to escape.  They can impregnate
cloth and leather, nay, even paper and parchment, with
the most subtle venom-Our Lady forgive me!-And
wherefore knowing this, hold I these letters of credence
so close to  nvy face!-Take them, Sir Thomas, take
Ilhem speedily~"
Here lhe gave them at arm's-length, and with some
i pearance of hastej to the baron.'t But come~ my




TIRE  TALISM.AN.                   tO,iord de Vaux,' l he continued, " wend we to the tent DI
tliis sick squire, where we shall learn wlhetlier this Hakim
ilathl really the art of curing which he professetll, ere we
consider whether there be safety in permittilg lhim  to
exercise his art upon King Richard.-Yet hold! let me
first take my potlncet-box, for tllese fevers spread like
an infection.  J wouild advise you to use dried rosemary
steel)e(  ill vinegar, my lord.  I, too, know  something o;
tlie lhealinlg art."' I tllallk yolr reverend  lordslhip," replied Tliomas
of Gilslanil(; " but hlad I  een accessible to the fever, I
hlatl cati lit it lonlg sillce by tle bed of' Il) tlmaster."
Tle lisilop of' Tyre bluslied, fbr lie had(l ratlhie avoidedl the Ipresence of tile sick    ntll'arch; and lie bid thlle baron
lead oil.
As tliey patilsedl before lle wretclledl lhnt ill which Kennetli of tile LJeolpard and his follower a bode, tile bislhop
sai(l to D)e Vatix, " Now, of a siurety, my lo(rd, these Scottisli knighlts lhave worse care of tleir followers than we
of ollr (logs.  Hiere is a knigllt, valiant tlhey say in battle,
all(i tlaotglit fittiug to be g(racedh with cllarges of weilht
in timne of truce, whlose esqlutire of tile body is lodged worse
thlan in thle worst dog-kennel in England.  What say you
of your  neiglilbours?"
" Tlhat a imaster doth wvell enotugh for his servant, when
lie lodget!h Imlill in no'worse (lwvellilg than his ownv," said
De Va-lux, and elltere  the liLt.
Tlhe bishop followed, not without evident reluctance;
for tlhogli lie lacked not couralge in some respects, yet it
was teln)elred witll a strong andl lively regard  olr his owPr
safety.  He recollected, however, the necessity there was
for judging personally of the skill of th!e A rabian physician,
anid entered the hlut with a stateliness of manner, calcutlat
ed, as he thought, to impose respect on thle stranger.
The prelate was,'ndeed, a striking and cominianding
figlure.  In his youtli le had been eminently handsome,
and even in age, was unwilling to appear less so.  Hiq
Tpiscopal dress was of the richest fashion, trimmed with
t.)Strlv flrit anl1dsrlt.' oiudedt t  a cope of curiousis needla




106          TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
work.   Tile rings on his fingers were wortll    g. od;)
barony, and the hood whlich he w-ore, tllhoughl now tnclasped mwiti tihrownll iack for heat, had(l siuds of' plure gold te
fasten it around his throat and under his cllin wh11en he
so inclined.  His long beard, now silvered w vitlita-e descenrled over his breast.  One of two youthfll acolytes
who attended hlirl, created  an artificial shade, peculiar
then to tlle east, by bearing over his hlead an umbrella of
palmiietto leaves, while the othler refreslled his reverend
master by agitating a fan of peacock-lie.atllers.
Wl!en tile lBishlol of Tyre entered the lhut of the Scottlsl kniillt, the mnaster was absent; alid the Moorish
physicilan, lloinl he had coine to see, sat in tile very posture in whichl De VauLx had left hlll several llours lefolre,
cross-legged, upon a mat made of twisted leaves, by tle
side of thle patient, whlo al)l)eared ill deelp slumlllber, anid
whose putlse lie        fiom       tO titme.  The bishop remlainled standing before llim  ill silcnce, for t\\o or tlltee
Ininutes, as ift' expecting some Ilonoulrable sailtitation, or at
least that the Saracen would seenm stiruck wvitll tfe dignity
of' his alypearance.  lBu/t Adoenbee el Haklini took no notice of iimin beyond a passing gilance, and wlhen tile pe-'ate at lenrthl salusted himl'n tile lilngua franca c(lrrel t in.the
counitry, lie only replied by the ordinary Orienital greeting,
" Szlam alicumr-peace be withl you."
" Art Illou a physician, infidel?" said thle bishop, somewhat mortified at this cold recel)tion.  " 1 would sleak
with tlhee on that art."
" If thou knewest nuollt of rllecine," answvered  El
lHakim, " tllhou would'st be aware, that llphysicians hold
no:ounsel or debate in thle sick chlamber of; tleir patient.
lea r,"  le ad(ded, as tile low growling of tile stag-hlound
was lleard from  the inner lhut, " even thle dog niglht teach
tflee  reason, Ulemat.  His instinct teaches hlim- to suppress bIis barklilr  in  thle sick  man's hearing.-Conme
wviilhout the tent," said  fie, rising and  leading  the way,
"' if thlout last aldgt  to sayr vith me."
Notwithlstanding tile plainness of the Saracen  leech}'s
lre.ss, and hiis inferiority of size, when contrasted with the',]l prelate and gigantic E   lish baron, theme was sonle



THE TALISMAN.                     107
thing striking in his manner and countenance, whicii prevented tile 13ishop of Tyre from expressing strongly, the
displeasurl hle felt at this uncerelaonious rebuke.  When
without the hut, he gazed upon AdoJnbec in silence, for
several minutes, before lie could fix on the bes' manner
to renew thle conversation.  No locks were seen under
the  high  bonnet of the  Arabian, whiclh hid also part
of a brow which seemed lofty and expanded, smooth, and
fiee forno  wrinkles, as were his cheeks, where they were
seen under thle shade of' his long beard.  We llave elsewhlere noticed the piercing quality of his dark eyes.
Tle prelate, struck Wvith his apparent youthl, at length
broke a pause, whicli the other seemed in no llaste to
itlterrupt, by demandiing of thle Arabian lIow old hle was?
" Tilhe years of ordinary lien,"  said tile Saracen,'" are countecd by their wrinkles, those of sages )by their
studies.  I dare not call mnyself older than anl hundred
revolttions of the HUegira."'"
The Baron of Gilsland, w]ho toolk this for a literal assertion, that he was a century old, looked doubtfully tupon
the prelate, who, thougll lihe better iunderstood tlhe nieaning of El Hakim, answered his glance by rnmysteriously
shaking his head.  He resutned an air of importance,
vwhen hle again authoritatively demanded, whallt evidence
Adonbec colld produce of llis mnedical l)roficiency.
" Ye have the word of the migilty Saladin," said the
sage, touching lhis cap in sign of reverene;   " a vword
which was never broken  towards fiiendll  or foe-what,
Nazarene, would'st thotl demand more?"
" 1 would have ocular proof of thy skill," said the
bIaron, " and without it thou approachest not to the couch
of Kilng Richard.": The praise of the pllysician," said the Arabian,' is
in the recovery of his patient.   Belold this sergeant,
whose blood has been dried tup by the fever which has
whitened your camp with skeletons, and against whlich the
art of' your Nazarene leechies hathl been like a silken
* Meanlilng, that hi t  aimlnents were those which migllt have been *made La
a hundred years.




108         TALES OF THE CRtUSADERS.
doublet against a lance of steel.  Look at his fingers and
arms, wasted like the claws and shanks of the crane.
I)eath had this morning ilis clutch on him; but had Azrael been on one side of the couch, I being on tile other,
his soul should not have been reft fromn hlis body.  Disturb
me not with farthler questions, but await the cr;tical minute,
and behold in silent wonder the marvellous event."
The physician had then recourse to his astrolabe, the
oracle of eastern science, and watching wrrith grave precision until the precise time of the evening prayer had
arrived, lie sunk on his knees, with his face turned to
AMecca, and recited the petitions which close the AMoslemah's day of toil.  The bishop and the English baron
looked on each other, meanwhile, with symptoms of contempt and indignation, but neither judged it fit to interr:upt El Hakim in his devotions, unholy as they considered
them to be.
The Arab arose from tile earth, on which lie had prostrated himself, and walking into tile llut where the patient
lay extended he drew a sponge fiomn a sinall silver box,
dipt perliaps in some aromatic distillation; for whlen h(
put it to tile sleeper's nose, lie sneezed, awoke, and looked wildly around.  He was a glhastly spectacle, as lie sat
up almost naked on llis couch, the bones and cartilages
as visible througli, the -surface of Ihis skin, as if they had
never been clotlled with flesh; his face was long, and fulIrowed with wrinkles, but hlls eye, tllougll it wandered at
first, became gradually more settled.  He seemed to be
awvare of tlle presence of his dignified visiters, for he
attempted feebly to pull the covering from  his llead, in
token of reverence, as lie inquired, in a subdued and sub
minssive voice for his master.
" Do you know  us, vassal?" said the Lord of Gil;lald
" Not perfectlyt, my lord," replied the squire, Iefntly.
it My sleep) has been long and fulll of dreamns.  Yet 1
know that you arle a great English lord, as seenieth by the
red-cross, and this a lholy prelate, whose blessing I cral\e
)n mie a poor sinner."




THE TALIS.MA.N.                  09
" Thou  1L ast it-Benedictio - Dminil sit vobiscumn,'
%aid the prelate, making thle sign of the cross, but without
approaching nearer to the paticlt's bed.
"Your eyes witness,"  said tie Arabiatn,  tile fever
hath been subdued-he speaks with calmness and recollection-his pulse beats comnposedly as youlrs-try   its
pulsations yourself'."
Trhe )reltate declined the experiment; but Thomas oI
Gilsland, more determined on making  the  trial, did
so, and  satisfied  himself that the fever was indeed(
gonle.
" This is most wonderful,"  said the knight, lookillg
to the bishop; 6; the man is assuredly cured.   I muist
conduct this mediciner presently to King Richard's tent
-XWhat thinks your reverence?9
"' Stay, let me finish one cure ere I commence another,"
said the Arab; "I will pass with you when I have given
my patient the second cup of this most holy elixir."
So saying he pulled out a silver cup, and filling it witi
water from a gourd which stood by the bedside, he next
drew forth a small silken bag made of network, twisted
with silver, the contents of which the by-standers could
lot discover, and immersing it in the cup, continued te
watch it in silence during the space of five minutes.  It
seemed to the spectators as if some effervescence took
place during the operation, but if so it instantly subsided.
"Drink," said the physician to the sick nman —" sleel,
and awaken free from malady."
" And with this simple-seeming draught, thou wilt undtrtake to- cure a monarch?" said the Bishop of Tyre.
" I have cured a beggar, as you may behold," replied
the sage. " Are the Kings of Frangistan made of othet
clay than the meanest of their subjects?"
" Let us lhave him  presently to the King," said the
Baron of Gilsland.  " He hatll shown that lie possesses
the secret which may restore his health.  If lhe fails tc
exercise it, I will put himself' past the power of medicine 
VOL. 1Io




t10         TALES OF THE CRUSADEl1[.'b
As thley were about to leave the hut, the sick inan, ra.stng his voice as much as llis weakness permitted, exclaimed, " Reverend father, noble knight, and you, kind leech,
if you would lhave me sleep and recover, tell me in charity what is become of my dear master?"' He is upon a distant expedition, fiiend," replied the
prelate; "on an honourable embassy, which may detain him for some days."
Nay," said the Baron of Gilsland, " why deceive
the pool fellow?-Friend, thy master has returned to the
camp, and you wvill presently see him."
Thelc  invalid held up, as if in thankfulness, his wasted
nands to Heaven, and resisting   no longer the soporifeerous
operation of the elixir, sullink down in a gentle sleep.
"You are a better plhysician than, Sir Thllomas."
said the prelate; " a soothing falsehood is fitter for a
sick room than an unpleasing truth."
" How mean you, mny reverend lord?" said De Vaux
hastily.' Think you I would tell a falsehood to save
the lives of a dozen such as hle?"' You said," replied thle bishop, with manifest symptoins of alarm   -" you said the esquire's master was
retlurned-he, I 1meatn, of the Couchart Leopard."
"And lie is returnedl," said le Vaux.   " I spoke
viti lhin l) bt a fevw hours since. This learned leecn came
in hiLs compljany."
Holy Virgin! whV told you not of his return to me?'saidl the bishop, in evident lerltturlbatiorn.
" Didl I not say that thlis same Knighllt of the Leopard
had returned in com)pany with the p}iysician?-I thougii;
I hadl,"  replied De Vaux, carelessly; " but what signifie ( his r eturn, to the skill of the physician, or the cure:~1 his 51,jesty?"
AIuch!;,  Sir Thomas-it signified muhell," said thle
bishlop, clellliing his hlands,  pressinlg his fool aggainst the
etrlrth, a(lt  i ivirg signs, of illtl,tience as if itn an involuntatr  nwnner.  " BLt  h llere can lihe be Eone now, this salme
kml"-:-it h-God be wvith us-here m. y  le sonie  fatai
erLro''s!"




THE  TALISMAiAN.  I I
" Y onder serf in the outer space," said De VaLx, not
w-ithout wonder at the bishop's emotion, "can probably
tell us whither his master has gone."
The lad was sutnmmoned, and, in a language nearly incomprehensible to tlhem, gave them  at length to understand, that an officer had  sumnmotned his master to the
royal tent, sometinme  before their arrival at that of llis
master.  The anxiety of the bishop appeared to rise to
thIe  highest, anld becamte  evident to I)e Vaux, thoutlg
neither an acute observer, nor of a suspicious temper.
But witlh his anxiety seemned to increase his wish to keep
it stuhbdued and unobserved.  lie took a hasty leave of De
Vaux, who looked after him with astonishment; and, after
sh.rugging uI) his slloulders in silent wonder, proceeded
to conduct the Arabian physician to the tent of King
Richard.
CHAPTER IX.
This is the Prince of leeches; fever, plague,
Cli rl hern, (and hot podagra, do but look oi him.
Aodl.til their grasp lol} tlhe torturedl sionews.-Aneron/mous.
THi  latrol0  of Gilsland walked with slow step and ar
anxious cotln.lenance towvards thie royal pavilion.  He had
mtich diflitlence of his own capacity except in a field ol
battle, andl, consciouis of no very  acute intellect, was
usually contented to wonder at circumstances, which a
man of livelier ilnauination would have endeavoured to
investigate and understand, or at least would lhave made
the sullbject of speculation.  But it seemed very extraordinary, even to himn, thlat the attention of the bishop
shJuIlld lhave been at olnce abstracted fi'oim  all reflection
on the Inarvellous ciure vwhich tliey had witnessed, and
upon the prIobability it affordedl. of Richard being restoredl to  health, by wal{t seemed a very trivial piece of informiation, annolIncillr thle mijotions of a beggarly Scottish
kniglt, than whom  Thlio!nas of' Gilsliand knew  nothling
792




t12         TALES OF THE CRUSADEI{S.
within the circle of gentle blood more unimportant or
contemptible, and, despite his usual habit of' passively
beholding passing events, the baron's spirit toiled with unwonted attempts to form conjectures on the cause.
At length the idea occurred at once to him, that the
whole might be a conspiracy against King Richard, formed within the camp of the allies, and to whicli the bishop,
who was by some represented as a politic and unscrupulous person, was not unlikely to have been accessary.
It was true, that in his own opinion there existed no
character so perfect as that of his master; for Richard
being the flower of chivalry, and the chief of Christian
leaders, and obeying in all points the commands of 1Holy
Church, De Vaux's ideas of perfection went no farther.
Still he knew that, however unworthily, it had been always his master's fate to draw as much reproach and dislike, as honour and attachment, from the display of his
great qualities; and tha.t in the very camp, and amnonast
those princes bound by oath to the crusade, were imany
who would have sacrificed all hope of victory over tile
Saracens, to the pleasure of ruining, or at least of' humbling, Richard of England.
C' Wherefore," said the baron to himself, " it i's in no
sense impossible that this El Hlakim, with this his cure.
or seeming cure, wrought on the body of the Scottish
squire, may mean nothing but a trick, to which he of the
Leopard may be accessary, and wherein the bishop of
Tyre, prelate as he is, may have some share."
This hypothesis, indeed, could not be so easily recon
ciled with the alarm manifested by the bishop, on learn
ng that, contrary to his expectation, the Scottish knigh
had suddenly returned to the crusaders' camp.  But De
V'aux was influenced onDy by his general prejudices, wllich
dictated to hitn the assured belief, that a wily Italian
priest, a false-hearted Sc,, and an infidel physician.
foimed a set of ingredients from,which all evil, and no
good, was likely to be extracted.  He resolved, however,
to lay his scruples bluntly before the King, of whose judgRenrt he lead Jearly as high an oFinion as of his valour,




THE TALISMVAN.               1l 13
Meantime, events had taken place very con:.rary to the
suppositions whiclh Thomas de Vaux iad entertained.
Scarce blad ihe left tle royal pavilion, when, betwixt the
Impatience of the fe;ver, and that which was natural to
his disposition, Richard began to murmur at his delay,
anld express an earnest desire for his return.  He had(
seen erough to try to reason himself out of this irritation,
whicil greatly increased his bodily malady.  He wearied
his attendants by demanding fomn them amusements, and
thle breviary of the priest, tile romance of' the clerk, even
tlhe harp of his favourite minstrel, were had recourse to
in vain.   At length, some two hours before sun-down,
and long, therefore, ere lie could expect a satisfactory
account of the process of the cure which the Moor or
Arabian had undertaken, he sent, as we have already
heard, a messenger, commanding the attendance of the
lKlliglit of the Leopard, determined to soothe his impatience by obtaining from Sir Kenneth a more particular
account of the cause of his absence fiom the camp, and
the circumstances of his meeting with this celebrated
physician.
Thle Scottish knighlt, thus summoned, entered the royal
presence, as one who was no stranger to such scenes.
lie was scarcely knowvn to the King of England even by
sight, although, tenacious of his rank, as devout in the
adoration of the lady of his secret heart, he had never
been absent on those occasions when the munificence
and hospitality  of England  opened the Court of its
monarch to all wllo held a certain rank in chivalry.  The
King gazed fixedly on Sir Kenneth approaching his bedside, while the knigllt bent hIis knee for a moment, thee
arose, and stood before him as became an officer in the
preseince of his sovereign, in a posturie of detlerence, but
not of subservience or hu1mility.
" T!iy nanle," said the Kin, " is Kennethl of the leop.
ard —Fiom whoml hadst thlou degree of knighthood?"'c I took it from the sword o:' Willianm, the Lion King
of Scotland," replied the Scot
VOL. II.




!114         T.'I'A. EA,  OF TIlE CRUSADERSo
"A. weapon," said the King, " well worthy  o col.er
aonour, nor has it been laid on an undeserving shoulder.
We. have seen thee bear thyself knighllly and valiantly in
press of' battle, wlhen most need there was; and tlhou
hladst not been yet to learn that thy deserts were known
to us, but that thy presumption in other points has been
such, tllat tlly services clan challenge no better rew-ard
than that of pardon  for thy transgression.  aWhat savst
thou- ha?"
Kenneth attempted to speak, but was unable to express
himself distinctly; the consciousness of lis too almbitious
love, and the keen falcon glance with which Ceur (lde
Lion seemed to penetrate his inmost soul, combining to
disconcert him.
"And yet," said the King, " although soldiers should
obey command, and vassals be respectful towards theil
superiors, we might forgive a brave knight greater offence
tlian the keeping a simple llound, though it were contrary
to our express public ordinance."
Richard kept his eye fixed on the Scot's face, beheld,
and, beholding, smiling inwardly at the relief produced by
the tlrin lhe had given to his general accusation.
" So please you, my lord," said the Scot, "C your Majesty must be good to us poor gentlemen of Scotland in
this matter.   Ve are far from lomie, scant of' revenues,
and cannot support ourselves as your wealthy nobles, who
have credit of' the Lombards.  The Saracens shall feel
our blows the harder, tllat we cat a piece of dried venison
from time to time, with our hlerbs and barley-cakes."
" It skills not asking my leave," said Richard, " since
Tlhom-as de Vaux, wvho cloth, like all around me, thlat
which is fittest in his own eyes, bhath already given thee.
peramission for llunting and llawking."
" For hunting only, and please you-" said the Scot;
but if it please your Majesty to indulge me with the
privilege of hawking also, and you list to ttrust me withl a
falcon on fist, I trust 1 could supply your r(;yal mess with
some choice water-fowl."




TIHE TALISMAN.                     1J5
" I dread me, if thou hadst blt tile falcon," said the
m;in, "t thou woIuld'st scarce wait fbr the permission.  I
kvwtt well it is slidr abroad thlat we of the line of Anjou
resent ofience agai;nst our forest laws, as  li1gllyv as we
would do treason against our crown.  lo bralve and worthy tmen, however, we could pardon either misdemeanoul.
— Brat enougll of thlis.-  desire to know  of yout, Sir
Knight, wherefore and by whlose authority you took this
ecent journey to the wilderness of the Dead Sea, and
Enaddi?"
" By order," replied the knight, " of the Council of
tlhe Princes of the Holy Crusade."
"' And hlow dared any one to give such an order, when
I-not the least, surely, in the league-was unacquainted
witlh it?"
It was not my part, pIlease your thighness," said the
Scot, " to inquire into such particulars.  1 am a soldier
of the Cross-serving, doubtless, for the present, under
your highness's banner, and protud of the permission to
do so-but still one who hathl taklen on him tile holy symbol for the rights of Christianity, and the recovery of the
hloly sepulclhre, and bound, therefore, to obey, witliout
question, the orders of the princes and chiefs by whlom.hle blessed  enterplrize is directed.   That indisp)osition0
should secltide, I trust bfo but a slhort time, your highness
from tlheir colncils, in whichI yoi hold so })otential a voice,
I must lament with all Clhristendom; but, as a soldier, I
must obey tlhose on whomn  the lawfiil rtighlt of coImmnand
devolves, or set but an evil example in the Christian
cam])."
" Tho10  say'st well," said King Richard; " and the
b atne rests not with thee, but witll those with whom,
1 Hien it shall pIlease Heaven to raise me fi'otn this accu:rs
ed  bed of ilain and inactivitY,  I  lope to reckon roundly
What was thle purport of tlhy message?"
" NMethinks, and please youtr hitoli)ness,"' replied  Sn
Kenneili, "1 that were best asked of tlhose who sent me
andt who can render thle reasons of mine errand; where.
as I can only tell its outward form  and ptlrport."




! ]I6        TALES OF. THIE CRISAI)EII. S
PalLer not with me, Sir Scot-it were ill f(.r th)
safety," said tile irritable monarch.
"My safety, my lord," replied the kiight. irinly,'" 
cast behinid me ais a regardless thing  when I vowed myself to this enterpr;ze, looking  rather to my immnortal
welfare, than to tlait which concerns nmy earthly body.'
"By the mass," said King Richard,'C thou art a brave
fellowv    Hark thee, Sir KniJght, I love the Scottish people; they are hardy, thlough dogged and stubborn, and,
I think, true men in tile main, tllougll the necessity of
state has sometimes constrained them to be dissemblers.
I deserve some love at their hand, for I have voluntarily
done what they could not by arms lhave extortecl from
nie any more than fi'om my predecessors-I have re-establistled the fortresses of Roxburgh and 3Betrwick, wVilich
lay in pledge to En-gland —1 have restored your ancient
boundaries-and, finally, I have renounced a claill to
loiiiage upon thle crown of' lInglan d, wlhich 1I tlhougllt ulnjustly forced on you.   I hiave endeavoulred to mlakl;e
honourable and independent friiends, where fornmer kiuns
of England attempted only to compel unwilling aud
rebellious vassals."
" All this Sou have done, my Lord King,"  said Sir
Kennetll, bowing-" All this you have done, by vour
royal treaty with our sovereign at Canterbury.  Therefore have you me, and many better Scottish men, making
war against the infilels, under your banners, who would
else have been ravaging your frontiers in England.  If
their numbers are no\v few, it is because their lives have
been frieely waged and wasted."'; 1 grant it true," said thle Kin,; " and for the good
offices I have done )your land, 1 require you to remember, that, as a principal rnember of the Christian league,
I hlave a riglit to know the negottiations of my11 couleaderates.  1Do me, therefore, the justice to tell me what I
have a title to be acquainted with, and lwhlich I am certain to know more trull  from you thlan froml others."
" My lord,"  said tile Scot, "' thls  conjured, I will,peal;K thle truth; for I well believe  lthat yotlr purposes
towai ds tile prlilllcil o')ject of our xlp:clCitict, anr1 si'ei.0c




THIE TALISMMANu.                1t
hearted and honest; and it is more than I dare warrant
f')r others of the holy league.  Be pleased, therefore, tc
know, my charge was to propose, through the medium
of the hermit of Engaddi, a holy man, respected and
protected by Saladin himself-   "
" A  continuation  of the truce, I doubt not,"  said
Richard, hastily interrupting him.' No, by Saint Andrew, myliege," said the Scottish
knight; " but the establishment of a lasting peace, and
the withdrawinlg our armies friom Palestine."' Saint George!" said Richard, in astonishment," Ill as I have justly thought of them, I could not have
dreame'd they would have humbled themselves to such
dishonour.  Speak, Sir Kenneth, with what will did you
carry such a message?"
"   ith right good-will, my lord,"  said  Kenneth;
"because, when we had lost our noble leader, under whose
guidance alone I hoped for victory, I saw none who could
succeed him likely to lead us to conquest, and I accounted
it well in such circumstances to avoid defeat."
" And on what conditions was this hopeful peace to be
contracted?" said King Richard, painfully suppressing
the passion with which his heart was almost bursting.
"Tlhese were not intrusted to me, my lord," answered
thle Knight of the Coucliant Leopard.  " I delivered
thenm sealed to the hermit."' And for what llold you this reverend hermit?-foi
fool, rladman, traitor, or saint?" said Richard.
"4 His folly, sire," replied the shrewd Scottishman, " I
hold to be assumed to win favour and reverence from the
Paynimrie, who regard madmen as the inspired of Hearen; at least it seemed to me as exhibited only occasionallS, and not as mixing, like natural folly, with the general
tenor of his mind."'Shrewdly replied," said tlle monarch, throwing hlimsef back on his couch, fi'om which lihe had half-raised
tirself.-" Now of his penitence?"
H" His penitence," continued Kenneth, " appears to
rme sincere, and the fruits of remorse for some dreadful




118         TALES OF T'rIE lCRUSADERIS,
crime, for which he seems, in his own opinion, condemned
to repiobation."
"And t() Ihis policy?" said King Richard.
" MlRethlinks, mty loid,'' said tile Scottislh Kniglht," 11:
despairs of tlhe security of Palestine, as of' iis own salvation, by any mleans sh!ort of a mniracle-aat least, since thte
arll of Richard of Ealand hli!tlha  ceased' to strike fbO it."
" And tiheiefore, the coward policy of this hermit is
like that of these miserable princes, who, forgetful of
tlleir knighthood and their faith, are only resolved and
determined when the question is retreat, and, ratler than
go forward against an armed Sarlacen, would tramp e in
their flight ox er a dying ally!"
"Might I so far presume, my Lord King," said tle
Scottish knil,;ht, " this discourse but heats your. disease,
the enemy from whtich Christencdoi    dreads more evil
thlan fioln armed hosts of infidels."
The cotntenance of King Riclhard was, indeed, more
fluslhed, and his action became more feverislhly vehemlnent,
as, with clenched hand, expanded arm, and flashing eyes,
lie seemed at once to suffer under bodily pain, and at
the same time under vexation of mind, while Iis high.
spitit led hirn to speak on, as if in contenmpt of both.
"You can  flatter, Sir Kniglit," lie said, " but you
escape me inot.  I must know more firoml you than you
have vet told me.   Saw  you my royal consort when at
Engaddi?"
"To my knowledge-no, my lord," replied Sir Kenneth, with considerable perturbation; for lie remnembered the midniglit procession in the chap)el of the rocks
I" ask you," said the king, in a sterner voice,   w-lhethel
you were not in the chapel of the Carmelite Nuns at
Engaddi, and there saw Berangaria,   Queen of England,
— nd the ladies of her court, who went thither on pilgril are.)"
"  y  Lord," said Sir Kenneth, " II weill speak the
truth as in tile confessional.  In a stlbterranean chapel,
to wvthichl the anchorite conducted me, I belleld a choii
of ladies do honlage to a relic of the higlhest sanctity; bn




T'H'E TALIS,  IN                   1S
as I saw.ot their faces, nor heard their vo,,es, un es-,in the liyvlls xvliCch tlley clianted, I cannot tell whetler
the Queen of England was of tie bevy."
"And was tlhere no one of tlhese ladies known to you;)"
Sir Kenilethl stood silent.
I ask youi," said  Richard, raising  himself on his
elbow,   as a knight and a gentlemlan, and I sllall know
by your answer how you value either character-did
you, or did you not, know any lady amongst that band of
worshippers?"
" 1My lord," said Kenneth, not without much hesitation,
"I might guess."
" And I also -may guess,"  said the king, frowning
sternlyv; " but it is enoutgh.  Leopard  as you are, Sir
Knighlt, beware tempting  the lion's paw.  Hark ye-to
becomne enamoured of the moon would  be bult an act
of folly; but to leap froml the battlements of a lofty tower,
in thle wild hope of' coming within her sphere, were selfdestructive madness."
At this mllOmen2t some bustling was heard in tlhe outer
apartmlent, and the King, hastily changing to his more
natural manner, said, " Enough-begone-speed to LDe
Vaux, and  send him hitler with  i the Alrabian l})lysician.
Myv life for the faith of tlhe Soldan!  Would he but ab-;ure his false law, I w-ou d acl him withl ry sword to drive
tlhis sclll of' Frencll and Austrians fioom  llis dom-inions,
and tlhink Palestine as well ruled by him as lwhen lher
kinrs were anointed by the decree of Heaven itsell:"
The Kmighlit of the Leopard retired, and presently afterwards the charnberlain announced a depultation firoln
tile Council, who had come to wait on the Majesty of
Enl,,I ld.
"It is well they allow that I am  living yet," was his
reply.  " Who are the reverend anmbassadors?"
" The Grand  Mlaster of the Templars, and the Marquis of M'iontserrat."!" O)Ur brother of France loves not sick-beds," said
Richard;' yet had Pilllip been ilh I had stood by lls
sich long since. -Jocely,, lay me the couctlh miore fair



120          TA LES OF TtlE CRUSAI)ERTI,
iy, it is tumbled like a stormy sea-reach me yordec
stee!  mirror-pass a comb through my hair and beard
rTleyr look, inde,-d, liker a lion's mane than a christian
man's locks-brinlg water."'
" My lord," said tile trembling chamberlain, " the
leeches say that cold water may be fatal."
" To the foul fiend with tile leeches!" replied the
monarch; " if they cannot cure me, think you I will allow them to torment me?-There, then-" lie said, after
having made his ablutions, " admit tile worshlipfiul envoys;
they will now, I think, scarcely see that disease has made
Richard ne,ligent of his pelrson."
The celebrated Master of the Templars was a tall, thin,
war-worn man, with a slow yet penetrating eye, and a
brow on which a tlhousand dark intrigues had stamped a
portion of their obscurity.  At thle head of that singular
body, to whom their order was every thing, and tlheir in -
dividuality nothing-seeking tile advancenmen t of its power. even at the hazard of that very religion which tlhe
fraternity were originally associated to protect-accused
of heresy and 1witchcraft, although by their clharacter
Christian priests-suspected of secret league with tlhe
Soldan, thouglh by oath devoted to the protection of the
Holy Temple, or its recovery-the whole order, and the
lwhole personal character of its commander, or Graind
Master, was a riddle, at the exposition of whllich most men
shuddered.  Tlle Grand Master was dressed in his wlhite
robes of solemnity, and lie bare tile abacus, a mystic staff
of office, the peculiar fbrm of wlichl has given rise to such
singlllar conjectures and commrrentaries, leading to suspicions that this celebrated fraternity of Christian kniglhts
were embodied under the foulest symbols of Paganismi.
Conrade of Mlontserrat had a much more pleasing
exterior than the d(ark and mysterious priest-soldier by
whon lie was accompanied.  l-le was a hlandsome man,
of middle age, or somnething past that term, bold in the
field, sagacious in council, gay and gallant in times of
festivity; blt, on the other hand, he was generally accused of ve-satility, of - narrow and selfish ambition, of a




THE TALISMAN.                    12 
desire to extend his own principality, witho it regard to'lhe wveal of the Latin kingdomn of Palestine, and of seekin, his own interest by private negotiations with Saladin
to tile prejudice of the Christian leaguers.
When tile usulal salutations had been made by these
dignitaries, and courteously returned by King Richard.
thle Marquis of Montserrat commenced an explanation
of the motives of their visit, sent, as lie said they were,
by the anxious Kings and Princes who composed the
Council of' the Crusaders, " to inquire into the health of
their magnlaniinlous ally, the valiant Kinll of England."'
"' We know the importanlce in wllicll the Princes of the
Council llold ourl' healtlh," replied the English King;
"' an( are well aware how mucll tlley mnust have sutfilred
by suppressing all curiosity concerning it for tfouteen
days, fifo fear, doubtless, of' aggravating   otlr disorder, by
showing their anxiety regardinlg the event."
The flow of the Marqulis's eloquence being checked,
and lie himself thrown into some confusion by tilis reply,
his mnore austere companion took up the thllead of thle
conversation, and, with as much dry anti brief gravity as
was consistent witlh the pIresence which he addressed, informed the King that they came firom tile Council, to piay,
in the name of Christendom, " that lie would not suffer his
health to be tampered withl by an infidel pllysician, said
to be despatclhed by Saladin, until the Council llad taken
measures to remove or confirm  the suspicion, wihliicli they
at present conceived did attach itself to the niission of
such a person."
" Grand Master of the Holy and Valiant Order of
Knights Tonplars, and you, Mlost Noble Mlarquis of
Monntserrat," treplied Richllard, " if it p)lease you to retire
in -.: the adjoinling pavilion, you shall presently see whlat
a(',Count we make of the tender re-iionstrarnces of oui
royal and princely colleagues  in  this religiots  warfare,."
The 1MaLrquis and Grand TMaster retired accordingly;
r1or had tlley been many mninutes in tile outward p)avilion
VOl. I 1.




1 22        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
wvlen tile Eastern rlhysician arrived, accompanied by the
Baron of' Gilsland anid Kenneth of Scotland. The Baron,
lowever, was a little later of enterin,'  the tent tlhan the
other two, stopping, perchance, to issue some orders to
the warders withou1lt.
As thle Arabian pl-hysician entered, he made his obeisance, after the  oriental fashion, to the Marquis and
Grand Master, whose dignity was apparent, both from
tlei4r appearance and their bearing.  The Grand Master
returned thle salutation with an expression of disdainfuil
coldness, the Marquis, withl the popular courtesy which llle
habitually practised to men of every rank and nation.
There was a pause; for the Scottish knight, waiting lor
the arrival of De Vaux, presumed not, of his owln authority, to enter the tent of tlhe King of England, and, during
tlhis interval, thle Grand Master sternly demanded of tlhe
Moslem,-" Infidel, hast thou the courage to practise thine
art upon the person of an anointed  sovereign of the
Christian host?"
" Th'le sun of Allah," answered the sage, " shines
on the Nazarene as well as on the true believer, and his
servant dare make no distinction betwixt them, wlhen
called on to exercise the art of healing."
" Misbelieving Hakimn," said the Grand Master, " or
whatsoever they call thlee for an unbaptized slave,of darkness, dost thlou well know, thlat thou shalt be torn asunder
by wild  horses should King Richard  die  under thy
charge?"
" That were hard justice," answered  the physician
"seeing that I can but use human means, and that the
is mue is written in the book of lighlt."
"Nay, reverend and valiant Grand Master," said the
IMarquis of Montserrat, " consider that this learned man
is not acquainted with our Christian order, adopted in
the fear of God, and for the safety of his anointed.-Be
it known to thee, grave physician, whose skill wve doubt
not, tllhat your wisest course is to repair to thel presence
of the illustrious Council of our Holy League, anc there
to give account and reckoning to such wise and learned




THIE T.A.IISMAN.                 123
leeches as they shall nominate, concerning your mean's,of plrocess an(l cure of this illustrious patient; so shall
you escape all the danger, which, rashly taking such a
higll matter upon your sole answer, you may else most
likely inculr."
" My lords," said El Hlakim, " I understand you well.
But knowledge hath its champions as well as ylll'r military art, nay, thath sotnetirnes had its martyrs as wvell as religion.  I have the coinmiand of' ny sovereign, the Soldan
Saladin, to heal this Nazarene King, and, with the blessing,
of the Prophet, I will obey his comlands. if I fail, ye wear
swvords thirstilln for tile blood ol the faithllful, and I prioffer
my body to your weapons.  But I will not reason with
one uncircutmcised u)po)  the virtue of the medicines of
whlich I have obtained knowledge, throntglh the grace of
the Prophet, and I pray you interpose no delay between
me and my office."
6; WXVo talks of delay?" said the Baron de Vaux, hastily entering the tent; " we have }had but too mucih already.
-1I saltite you, rrmy Lord of MAontserrat, and you, valiant
Grand Master.  But I must presently pass with this learnedl phlysician to the lied-side of my master."
1" Mly lord," said the Marquis, in Norman French, or
the language of Oulie, as it was tllen called, " are you
well advised tlat we came to exposiLtlate on the part of
the Council of the Molarchls and Princes of tile Crusade,
against the risk of p)erimitting an infidel and eastern physician to tainper with a health so valuable as that of your
tmaster King Richard?"
" Noble ILord  Marquis,"  replied  the  Englishmaln,
bluntly, " I can neither ulse many wvords, nor do I delialit
in) listeniiing to thein-moreover, I am muchl more ready
to believe what my eyes hlave seen, thlan what my ears
tave heard.  I am  satisfied tlhat tilis lheathen can rtire
the sickness of Khing Richard, an(l I believe and trust he
will laboulr to do so.  Time is precious.  If A1lahomnrle d
— may God's curse be on hin!-stood at the door of
the tent, Nwith such fair purpose as this Adonbec el Hakirn




124         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
ettertains, I would hold it sin to delay him for a miiluteSo, give ye God'en, my lords."
" Nay but," said Conlrade of' Montserrat, " the King
himself said we should be present when this same physician dealt upon him."
Tihe baron whispered the chamberlain, probably to
knlow whethler the AMarquis spoke truly, and then replied,
" My lords, if you will hold your patience, you are welcome to enter with us; but if you interrupt, by action or
threat, this accomplished physician in his duty, be it
known, that, without respect to your high quality, I will
enforce your absence from Richard's tent; for know, I
am so well satisfied of the virtue of tlhis man's medicines,
thlat were Richard himself to refuse them, by our Lady
of Lanercost, I think I could find in my heart to force
him to take the means of his cure, whether he would or
no.-Move onward, El Halkim."
The last word was spoken in the Lingua Franca, and
instantly obeyed by the physician.   The Grand Master
looked grimly on the unceremonious old soldier, but, on
exchanging a glance with the Mlarquis, slmoothed his fiowning brow as well as lie could, and both 1ollow.ved De Vaux
and the Arabian into the inner tent, where Richard lay expecting them, with that irrnpatience with which the sick man
watches the step of his physician.  Sir Kenneth, whose
attendance seemed neither asked nor prohibited, felt hiitnself, by the circumstances in which he stood, entitled to
follow these hilgh dignitaries, but, conscious of his inferior
power and rank, remained aloof during the scene which
took place.
Ilichard, when they entered his apartment, immediately exclaimed, "' So ho! a goodly fellowship come to see
Richard take his leap in the dark.-Aly noble allies, I
greet you as the representatives of our assembled league;
Richard will again he amongst you in llis former fashion
or ve shall bear to the grave what is left of him.-De
Vaux, lives lie or dies he, thou hast the thanks of lhy
prince.-There is yet another-but this fever hath wasted,nine eyesight-what. thle bold Scot, who would climb




TItE TALISMAN.                  i2 
Heaven without a ladder? —he is welcoiie too.- -Come,
Sir Hakim, to the work, to the work."
The physician, who had already informed himself of
the various symptoms of the King's illness, now felt his
pulse for a long time, and with deep attention, while all
around stood silent, and in breathless expectation.  The
sage next filled a cup with spring water, and dipt into it
the small red purse, which as formerly, he took from his
bosom.  When he seemed to think it sufficiently medi-.
cated, he was about to offer it to the sovereign, who prevented him, by saying, 1" Hold an instant.-Thou has'
feult my pulse-let me lay my finger on thine.-I too, as
becomes a good knight, know something of thine art."
The Arabian yielded his hand without hesitation, and
his long slender dark fingers were, for an instant, enclosed, and almost buried, in the large enfoldment of King
Richard's hand.
" His blood beats calm as an infant's," said the King;
" so throb not their's who poison princes.  De Vaux,
whether we live or die, dismiss this Hakim with lhonour
and safety-Commend us, friend, to the noble Saladin.
Should I die, it is without doubt of his faith-Should I
live, it will be to thank him as a warrior would desire to
be thanked."
He then raised himself in bed, took the cup in his
hand, and, turning to the Marquis and the Grand Master,
-"S Mark what I say, and let my royal brethren pledge
me in Cyprus wine —' To the immortal honour of the
first crusader, who shall strike lance or sword on the gate
of Jerusalem; and to the shame and eternal infamy of
whomsoever shall turn back from  the plough on which
he hath laid his hand!' "
He drained the cup to the bottom, resigned it to tht
Arabian, and sunk back, as if exhausted, upon the cushiolns which were arranged to receive him.  The pllysician, then, with silent but expressive signs, directed thai
all should leave the tent excepting himself and De Vaux,
whom no remonstrance could induce to withdraw.  The
apartment was cleared accordingly.
23  vet.. fl.




1&6'TALES OF THE CRnTJSDERS.
CHAPTER X.
And now I will unclasp a secret book,
And, to your quick-conceiving discontent,
I'll read you matter deep and dangerous.
Hem'y IV. Partl I.
TIIE  Alarquis of Montserrat, and the Grand At..ster
of tile Knights Templars, stood together in the firont of
t.he royal. pavilion, within which this singtilar scene had
passed, and belleld a strong guard of bills and  bows
drawn out to form  a circle around it, and keep at distance
all which might disturb the sleeping monarch.  The soldiers wore thle downcast, silent, and sullen looks, wxirh
whllich they trail their arms at a ftuneral, and stel-ped with
sucll caution  tlhat you could not hear a buckler ring, or
a sword clatter, thlouglh so nmany  men in armour were
moving around thle tent.   Thllley lowered tlheir wealpons
in deep reverence, as the dignitaries passed through their
files, but wvith the same profotund  silence.
"There is a change of cheer among these island dogs,"
said tlle Grand Master to Conrade, when tlhey had passed Richard's gulards.  " What hoarse tuimult and revel
used to be before thlis pavilion! nought but pitchling the
bar, Ihurling thle ball, wrestling, roaring of' songs, clattering *of wine-pots, and quaffing of flagons, anlong these
burly  yeoman, as if they were holding some country
wake, with a Maypole in the midst of them, instead of a
royal standard."
" Mastiffs are a faithfuil race," said Conrade; " and
the King thleir master has wvon tlleir love by being ready
to wrestle, brawl, or revel aniongst thle loremost of theam,
hllenever the hlumlnour seized llim."'He is totally compounded  of hurrours," said the
fGrand Mlaster.  " Marked you the ple,ge he gave us.mw;tead of a prayer, over his grace-cup yonder?"




,TrIE1  TAlSMAN..               I' J' He would have felt it a grace-cup, and a well spiceo
otne too," said tile Aarquis, " were Saladin like (any other
Turk that ever wore turban, or turned him  to Mlecca at
call of tile Muezzin.  But lhe affects flith, and lhonour,
and generosity,-as if it were for an unbaptized dog like
hiRm to practise the virtuous bearing of a Christian kniglht 
It is said 11e hath applied to Richard to be admitted withlin
the pale of chivalry."
" By Saint Bernard!" exclaimed the Grand Master,
" It were tinle tllen to throw off our belts and spurs, Sir
Conrade, deface our armorial bearings, and renounce our
burgonets, if thle highest honour of Chlristianity were
conferred on an unchristened TurIk of tenpence."
" You rate tile Soldan cheap," replied the Marquis:
" yet tllougll hle be a likely nman, I lhave seen a better
Ileatlelln sold for forty pence at the bagnio."
Thlley were now near their horses, wlhich stood (at some
distance from the royal tent, prancing among the gallant
train of esquires and pages by whom they were attended,
when Conrade, after a momnent's parise, prop)osed that
they should enjoy the coolness of the evening breeze
which had arisen, and, dismissing their steeds and attendants, walk homewards to their own qularters, tlirotghl the
lines of the extended  Chrlistian campl,.   Tle  Grand
Master assented, and they proceeded to iwalk together
accordingly, avoiding, as if by llutulal consent, tile more
inhabited parts of the canvass city, and tracinlg the broad
esplanade which lay between the tents and thle external
defences, where they could conlverse in private, and unmarked, save by thle sentinels as thley passed tlhem.
They spoke for a time upon tile military points and
preparations for defence; but this sort of discourlse, in
vllich neitlher seemed to take interest, at length (died
away, and there was a long, pause,  whicll terminated by
the Allrq'lis of Molltserrat stoplpilg short, like a mani
who has fornlted a sudlttden resolultion, and, gazinlg fol
sonle tnoments on the dark inflexible countenance of the
Grand Master, lie at length addressed him thluS:-";Mi;llt
it consist with your,'ralour and sanctity, reverend( Sir Gilet
793




128        -TALES 0P T'I Ttl  CIRUSADEIRS
Amaury, I would pray you for cnce to lay aside t,.e dark
vizor which you wear, and to converse with a fiiend barefaced."
The Templar half-smiled.
" There are light-coloured masks," he said, " as well
as dark vizors, and the one conceals the natural features
as, ompletely as the other."
"Be it so," said the Marquis, putting his band to his
chin, and withdrawing it with the action of one who unmasks himself; " there lies imy disguise.  And now, what
think you, as touching the interests of your own order,
of tile prospects of this crusade?"' Tlhis is tearing tile veil from  mqy thoughts rather
than exposing your own," said the Grand ilaster; "yet
I will reply with a parable told to me by a santon of the
desert.-' A certain farmner prayed to Heaven for rain,
and murmured when it fell not at his need.  To punish
his impatience, Allah,' said the santon,' sent the Euphrates upon his farm, and he was destroyed with all his possessions, even by the granting of his own wishes.,'
"Most truly spoken," said the Marquis Conrade
" would that the ocean had swallowed up nineteen parts
of the armaments of these western princes! what remained would better have served the purpose of the
Christian nobles of Palestine, the wretched reinnant of
the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem.  Left to ourselves, we
might have bent to the storm, or, moderately supported
with money and troops, we might have compelled Saladin
to respect our valour, and grant us peace'and protection
on easy terms.  But from the extremity of danger with
which this powerful crusade threatens the Soldan, we
cannot suppose, should it pass over, that the Saracen will
suffer any one of us to hold possessions or principalities
in Syria, far less plermit the existence of the Clristian
military fraternities, from whom  they have experienced
so mtich mischief."
" Ay, but," said the Templar, " these adrenturollus
Crusaders may succeed. an:: again plant the Cress on the
bulwarks of Zion




THE TALISAMI N. *29t
" Ani what will that advantage either the order of tle
reiemplars, or Conl ade of Mlontserrat " said the Marquis.
" You it may advantage," replied the Grand Master.'Conrade of MAontserrat might become Conrade King ot
Jerusalelll."
"That sounds,like somethling," said the IMarqiis, " and
yet it ringb but hollow.-Godfliey of Bouillon might well
choose the crown of thorns for his emnblem.  Granl  Alastei, I will confess to you I have caught some attachmient
to tile eastern form of government:   A pure and simple
monarch)y should consist but of King and subjects.  SuchI
is thle simple andl primitive structure-a slhepherd and his
flock.  All this internal chain of feudal dependence ji
artificial and sophisticated, and I would rather hold the
baton of my poor marquisate with a firm gripe, and wieid
it after my pleasure, than the sceptre of a monarch,!o
be in effect restrained and curbed by the will of as mau!y
proud feudal barons as hold land under the Assize of Jer tsalemrn.4  A king should tread freely, Grand Milaster, a)id
nould not be controlled by here a ditch, and thlere a fet),e
-here a feudal privilege, and there a mail-clad bal-r n,
with hlis sword in his lhand to maintain it., To sutn dihe
whole, I am aware that Guy de Lusignan's claims to ihe
throne would be preferred to mine, if Richard recovers,
and has aught to say in the choice."
" Enogh,l" said the Grand Master; " thou hast indeed
convinced  me of thy sincerity.  Otllers may hold the
same opinions, btut few save Conrade of Montserrat da"ed
frankly avow that lhe desires not the restitution of the
kitlgdom  of Jerusalem, but rather prefers being ma,,cer
of a portion of its fiagments; like the barbarous isdnters, who labour not for the deliverance of a goodly,essel firom the billows, expecting rather to enrich themse,,es
at the expense of thle wreck."' Thou wilt not betray my counsel?" said Conr -de,
looking sharp)ly and susp)iciously.  " Know  for fer iin,
tlhat my tongue shall never wrong my head, nor my i and
forsake the defence of either.  Impeach rle if thou wil'




130          TALES OF THE, C1RUSADERSe
-I am  prepared to defend rayself in the lists against the
best'l'ellplar who ever laid tlance in rest."
" Yet thlou start'st sonmew-hlat sutl:idlevlv for so bold a
steed,," said  the Grand  iMaster.  " I.lowever, I swear
to thlee by thle Holy  Teml)le, whlich our Order is sworn
to defend, that I will keep  counsel witll tlee as a true
comrade."
"   y wvllich Temrple?" said the MI1arquis of  Tonltaserrat, whose love of sarcasnl often outran lhis piolicy and
discretion;' swearest thou by tbhat on tile hill oft Zion,
which was built by King Solonlon, or by that symn:)bolical,
emblematical edifice, wllichl is said to be sllokenl o in the
councils held in the vaults of youlr'Precelptories, as soinethling  which inlers the amgrandizelnent oft thy valiant and
venerable Ordter?"
The Tenl)plar scowvled upon him wlith an eye of death,
but answered calmtly,'" Iy whatever Temptle i swear,
be assured, Lord Marquis, nly oath is sacred.  I would
I knew how to bind thee by one of equall obligation."' I will swear truth to thee," said the Alarquis, laughing,:" by tlle Earl's coronet, whlicll I h}ope to convert, ere these
wars are over, into somethiing better.  It feels cold on my
brow, that same slight coronal; a (luke's cap of maintenance were a better protection argainst such a niglht-breeze
as now  blows, and a king's crown were preferable still,
being lined with  comfortable  ermine and velvet.  In a
word, otur interests bind us together; for think nl ot,. Lord
Grand Master, that were tllese allied Princes to  regain
Jerusalem, and place a king of their own choosing there,
they wvould stiffer your order, any more tlhan my poor
marquisate, to retain  thle independence wllicl  we fnow
hold.  No, by  Ouir Lady!  In such  case  thle proud
Knriglhts of Saint John must-again spread plasters, and
dress plague-sores, in thle lospitals; and you, mIost puissant and venerable Knighlts of the Temiple, must retulrn
to vour condition of simple men-at-arms, sleep tilree on
a pallet, and mount two upon one llorse, as your p}resent
seal stil expresses to lE;,ve been your ancient tnost simple custom."




'TH-IE TALISMAN.                  131' Tihe rank, privileges, and opulence of our order prevent so Inuch delradation as you threaten," said the Teimplar. hantlhtlly.T'l'hese are your bane," said Conrade of Montserrat;
" and you as well as 1, reverend Grand Master, know,
that were th)e allied Princes to be successful in Palestine, it would be their first point of policy to abate the
hldependence of your order, which, bUtit for the protection
of our holy father the Pope, and the necessity of employing your valour in the conquest of Ialestine, you
would long sinice have experienced.   Give them cotnplete success, and you will be flung aside, as the splinters
of a broken lance are tossed out ofl' the tilt-yard."
"There mlla be truth in what you say," said the Ternplar, darkly smilinlg; " but whllat were our lhopes should
the allies withdraw their forces, and leave Palestine in
hlle grasp of Saladin?"
"Great and assured," replied Conrade; " the Soldan
vwould give large provinces to maintain at his behest a
body of well-appointed Frankish lances.  In  Egypt, in
Persia, an hundred such auxiliaries, joined to his own light
cavalry, would turn the battle against the most fearful
odds.  This dependence would be but for a time-perhaps during the life of this enterprizing Soldan-but in
tle East, empires arise like tiushroonlls.   Suppose him
dead, and us strengthened with a constant succession of
fiery and adventurous spirits firom;tEiirope, what tnight
we not hope to achieve, uncontrolled by thlese mrnoarchs,
whose dignity tilrows us at present into the shade-and
were they to remain here and succeed in this expedition,
would willingly consign us forever to degradation and dependence?"
" You say well, my Ijord, Marquis," said the Grand
Master; " and youir words fiTnd an echo in niy bosom.
Yet must we be cautious; Philip of France is wise as
well as valiant."'I'True, and will be therefore the more easily diverted
from an expedition, to whichi, in a moment of enthulsiasin,'r Uirged by his nobles, he rashlv bound himself.  He is




012        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
lealous of King Richard, his natural enemy, aliy longs
to return to prosecute plans of ambition nearer to Paris
than Palestine.   Any fair pretence will serve him for
withdrawing from a scene, in whlich he is aware he is
%wasting the force of his kingdom."
" And the Duke of Austria?" said the Templar.
01), touching the Duke," returned Conrade, " his
self-conceit and folly lead him to the same conclusions as
do Philip's policy and wisdom.   He conceives himself;
God help the while, ungratefully treated, because men's
mouths,-even those of his own minrze-singers,   are
filled with the praises of King Richard, whom he fears
and hates, and in whose harm he would rejoice, like those
unbred dastardly curs, who, if the foremost of the pack is
hurt by the gripe of the wolf, are much more likely to assail the sufferer from behind, than to conme to his assistance.
— But wherefore tell I this to thee, save to show that I am
in sincerity in desiring that this league be broken up, and
the country freed of these great monarchs with their
hosts? and thou well knowest, and hast thyself seen, how
all the princes of influence and power, one alone excepted, are eager to enter into treaty with the Soldan."
" I acknowledge it," said the Templar; " he were
blind that had not seen this in their last deliberations.
But lift yet thy mask an inch higher, and tell me thy real
reason for pressing upon the Council that northern Englishman, or Scot, or whatever you call yonder knight
of the Leopard, to carry their proposals for a treaty?"'There was a policy in it," replied the Italian; " his
character of native of Britain was sufficient to meet what
Saladin required, who knew him to belong to the band
of Richard, while his character of Scot, and certain other
personal grudges which I wot of, rendered ii most unlikely
that our envoy should, on his return, hold any commalunication with the sick-bed of Richard, to whom his prer;rnce was ever unacceptable."
* The German minstrels were so termed.




THE TALISMAN.                  133
~ O11h, too fine-spun policy," said the Grand 1Master,
" Lrust me, that Italian spiders' webs will never bind this
lmnshorn Samson of the Isle-well if you can do it with
new cords, and those of the toughest.  See you not that
the envoy whom you have selected so carefully, bath
brought us, in this physician, the means of restoring the
lion-hearted, bull-necked Englishman, to prosecute his
crusading enterprize; and, so soon as he is able once
miore to rush on, which of the princes dare hold back?they onust follow him for very shame, althotugh they would
march under the banner of Satan as soon."
"' Be content," said Conrade of Montserrat; "ere
this physician, if lie w'ork by anything short of miraculous
agency, can accomI)lish Richard's cure, it may be possible to put some open rupture betwixt the Frenchman, at
least the Austrian, and his allies of England, so that the
breach shall be irreconcilable;  and Richard may arise
from his bed, perhaps to command his own native troops,
but never again, by his sole energy, to wield the force of
the whole Crusade."
" Thou art a willing archer," said the Templar;: but,
Conrade of Montserrat, thy bow is over slack to carry
an arrow to the mark."
He then stopt short, cast a suspicious glance to see
that no one overheard him, and taking Conrade by the
hand, pressed it eagerly as he looked the Italian in the
face, and repeated slowly,-" Richard arise from his bed,
say'st thou?-Conrade, he must never arise!"
The Marquis of Montserrat started-" TWhat!-spoke
you of Richard of England-of Coeur de Lion-the
champion of Christendom?"
His cheek turned pale, and his knees trembled as he
spoke.  The Templar looked at him, with his iron visage
contorted into a smile of contempt.
K IKnow'st thou what thou look'st like, Sir Conrade,
at this moment? Not like the politic and valiant Marquis
of Montserrat-not like him who would direct the Council of Princes, and determine the fate of empires —but
VOL. 11.




134          TALES OF TIlE  CRUSADIERS.
like a novice, who, stumbling upon a conjuration in hii,
master's book of gramarye, hlas raised thle (levil wihen lihe
least tllouglit of it, and now  stands terrified at tile splirit
hllich aptpears before him."
"I grant you,"  said  Conrade, recovering  hinmself,' that-unless some other sure road could be discovered
-thou hast hinted at that which leads most dlirect to our
purpose.  But, blessed AMary! we shall becone tlle curse
of all Europ)e, the malediction of every  one, firom  the;.
Pope on this throne to the very beggar at tile cllhurcll   ate,
wvho, ragged and leprous, in the last extremity of' hum-nan
wretchedness, slhall bless himself that lie is neither Giles
Amaurv, nor Conrade of Montserrat."
" If' thou takest it thus," said the Grand IMaster, with
-lie sa      posure opose    ich cllaracterized him ilall ltlhrolg
tlhis remarkable dialogue, "let us hold there hias nothling
passed between us — llat we have spoken in our sleep —
have awakened, and the vision is golle."
" It never can dlepart," answered Conrade.
"Visions of ducal crowns and  kingly  diadems are,
indeed, somlewhat tenacious of thleir place in tile iinagination," rellied the Grand Master.
" Well," answered Conrade, " let me  uit first try to
break ipeace betxween Austria and England."
They parted.-Conrade remained standing still upon
the spot, and watching tile flowing wllite cloak of tlhe
Teriplar, as lie stalked slowly away, and gradually disal)peared amid the fast-sinking darkness of the oriental
niglt.  Prouid, ambitious, unscrulpulous, and politic, the
Marquis of Montserrat was yet not cruel by nature.  He
was a voluptuary and an epicurean, and, like many who
profess this character, was averse, even utpon selfish motives. from inflicting pain, or witnessing acts of cruelty;
and lie retained also a general sense of respect for his own
reputation, whichl sometimes supplies the want of the
oetter principle by which reputation is to be maintained.
"I have," lie said, as his e-es still watchled the point
at which he had seen the last slight wave of thle Tenmplar's
mantle, — " I have, in trutll, raised the devil with a vel!




TilE TALISMAN.                   i3u
geance!  Who would  have thought thi3 stern ascetic.
Grand Master, whose whole fortiune and misfortune is
merged in that of his order, would be willing to do more
for its advancement, than I wllo labour for my own interest? To check thi's wvild crusade was my motive, indeed,
but I durst not think on the ready mode whichl this deternlined priest has dared to suggest-yet it is the surest
— per!laps even tile safest."
Such were the Mlarquis's meditations, when his muttered soliloquy was broken by a voice fronm a little distance,
which proclaimed with. the emphatic tone of an herald,-' Remlember the Holy Sepulchre!"
The exhortation was echoed from  post to post, for it
was the duty of the sentinels to raise this cry firomn time
to time upon  their periodical watch, that the host of the
crusaders tnight always have in their remembrance tile
purpose of their beinlg in arms.   But thougtl  Conrade
was famniliar with the custorn, and llad heard tile warning
voice on all former occasions as a matter of habit, Set it
came at the present moment so strongly in contact with
his own train of thought, that it seemed a voice from
Heaven warning him against the iniqtlity whichl his heart
meditated.  lie looked around anxiously, as it; like tile
patriarch of old, though from very different circumstances,
lie was expecting some ram  caughlt in a thlicket-some
substitution for the sacrifice, whicil his comrade proposed
to offer, not to the Supreme Being, but to tile Molochl of
their own ambition.  As he looked, the broad folds of
the ensign of England, heavily distending itself to the failing nighlt-breeze, caughlt llis eye.  It was displayed upon
an artificial mouind, nearly in the midst of the camp,
which perhaps of old some Hebrew chief or chiampion
nad chosen as a memorial of his place of rest.  If so,:he name was now forgotten, and the crusaders hlad clhristenied it St. George's Moount, because from  that commanding height the banner of England was supereminelitly displayed, as if an emblem of sovereignty over the
many distinguished, noble, and even royal ensigns, which
floateff!, lower situations.




IY13        cl[TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
A quick intellect like that of Conrade catches',deas
from  the glance of a moment.   A  single look, on the
standard seemed to dispel the uncertainty of mind which
had affected him.  He walked to his pavilion with the
hasty' and determined step of one who has adopted a plap
which he is resolved  to achieve, dismissed the almost
princely train who waited to attend him, and, as he cominitted thimself to his couch, muttered his amended resolution, that the milder means are to be tried  before the
nmore desperate are resorted to.
To-mnorrow," lie said, " I sit at the board of the
Arch-Dtuke of Austria-we will see what can be done to
advance our purpose, before prosecuting the dark suggeslions of this Templar."
CHAPTER XI.
One thing is certain in our Northern land,
Allow that birth, or valour, wealth, or wit,
G;ive each precedence to their possessor,
Envy, that follows on such eminence,
As comes the lyme-hound on the roebuck's trace,
Shall pull them down each one.
SIR DAVID LINDSAY..
LEOPOL), Grand Duke of Austria, was the first possessor of that noble country to whom tile princely rank
belonged.  Ile had been raised to the ducal sway in the
German empire, on account of his near relationship to
the Emperor, Henry the Stern, and held under' his government the finest provinces which are watered by the
Danube.  His character has been stained in history, on
account of one action of violence and perfidy, which  arose
)mlt of these very transactions in the Holy Land; and yet:lie shame of having lnade Richard a prisoner, when he
returned through his dominions, unattended and in dis



THE TAIISMAN.                 137
guise, was not onle which flowed from Leopold's natural
disposition.   He was rather a weak and a vain, thlan atn
ambitious or tyrannical prince. His mental powers resernbled the qualities of his person.  He was tall, strong,
and handsome, with a complexion in which red and
white were strongly contrasted, and had long flowing,
locks of' fair hair.  But there was an awkwardness in his
gait, which seemed as if his size was not animated by
energy stufficient to put in motion such a mass; and in
tile same manner, wearing the richest dresses, it always
seemed as if they became him  not.  As a prince, he
appeared toolittle familiar with his own dignity, and being
often at a loss how to assert his authority when the occasion demanded it, he frequently thought himself obliged
to recover, by acts and expressions of ill-timed violence,
the ground which might have been easily and gracefully
maintained by a little more presence of mind in the beginning of the controversy.
Not only were these deficiencies visible to others, but
the Arch-Duke himself could not but sometimes entertain a painful consciousness that lie was not altogether
fit to maintain and assert the high rank which lie had
acquired; and to this was joined the strong, and sometiunes the just suspicion, that others esteemed him lightly
accordingly.
MiWhen lie first joined the crusade, with a most princely
attendance, Leopold had desired much to enjoy the friendship and intimacy of Richard, and had made such advances towards cultivating his regard, as the King of England
ought, in policy, to have received and answered.  But
the Arch-Duke, though not deficient in bravery, was so
infinitely inferior to Coeur de Lion in that ardour of mind
which wooed danger as a bride, that the King very soon
hield him in a certain degree of contempt.  Richard also,
as a Norman Prince, a people with whom temperance was
habitual, despised the inclination of the Germnan for the
pleasures of the table, and particularly his liberal indulgence in the use of wine.  For these, and other personal
VOL. II.




1 38         TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
reasons, the King of England very soon looked upon the
Austrian Prince with feelings of contempt, which fhe was
at no palins to conceal or mIodify, and lwhich, therefore,
were spleedily remarked, and returned witli deep hatred
by the suspicious Leopold.  Thle discord between them
was fanned by the secret and politic arts of Plhilip of
Franlce, one of the most sagacious tmonarchs of the time,
who, Idreading the fiery and overbearing character of
R ichlard, considering himn as his natural rival, and feeling
offended moreover, at thle dictatorial manner in whliclh hle,
a vassal of France I'or his continental do-nains. conducted!i.ihself towards hIis liege lord, endeavoured to strengtlhen hiis own party, and weaken thlat of Riclard, by uniting thlle crusading princes of inferior degree, in resistance
to what lie termfed tile usurping autlhority of thle King of
Enogland.  Such was the state of politics and opinions
entertained by the Arch-Duke of Austria, wllen Conrade
of Montserrat resolved upon employiig his jealousy of
Englmand as the means of dissolving, or loosening at
least, tile league of the crusaders.
Th'le time  lwhich lie cliose for his visit was noon, and
tlhe  pretence, to  present the  Arch-Duke  with  some
rchoice Cyprus  vwine whllich  had lately fallen into his
Ilands, and discuss its comparative merits witll those of
Hungary and of tile Rlhine.  An intimation of llis purpose was of course answered by a courteous invitation to
partake of the Arclh-ducal meal, and every effort was
used to renlder it fitting the splendour of a sovereign prince.
Yet, tile refined taste of the Italian saw more cumllibrous
profusion, than elegance or splendour, in the display of
pro\isiolns under wlicli tile board groaned.
T'lhe Germans, thoulgh still possessing tile martial and
rrank character of tllcir ancestors, who subduted the Roman
eml)ire, lhad retained witllal no slight tinge of tlieii barbarisln.  The practices and principles of chivalry were not
calrried to sucli a nice pitcll amongst thlem, as amnongst the
French and Englisli knights, nor were they strict observ-.rs of thle prescribed rules o' society, which among thlose
tiations were sujpposed to express the height of civilization.




THE TALI.3MAN.                      13te
Sitinlg at tlhe table of the Arich-Duke, Conrade  was at.nce stunned  and amused, with the clang of Teutonic
soun(Is assaulting his ears on all sides, notwithstanding
ile solemnity of a princely banquet.  Their dress seemed  equally fantastic to Iilnm, many of the Austrian nobles
retaining their long beards, and almost all of' tllelm wearing short jerkins of various colours, cut, and flourished,
and fringed, in a manner not common in Western Eu1rope.
Numnbers of dependants, old and young, attended  in
the pavilion, mingled at times in the conversation, received fiom their masters the relics of the entertainlllllent, and
devoured them  as they  stood behind  tile backs of thle
company.   Jesters, dwarfs, and minstrels, were there in
unusual numbers, and more noisy and intrusive than they
were permitted to be in better regulated society.  As
they we-re allowed to share freely in tile wine, whlich flowed round in large quantities, their licensed tumulllt was
the more excessive.
All this while, and in the midst of a clamour and confusion, swhichi would better hlave become a German tavern
during a. fair tllhan  tlle tent of a sovereign  p}illce, tlhe
Arcll-Duke was waitedl upon witli a minutenless of lform
and observance, wlicll sliowed lhow anlxious  lie  vas to
maintain rigitlly tile state an(l  cllaracter to whllicll Iis
elevation had entitled lliiii.  He was servedi on tile kince,
and only by pages of noble blood, tfedl l)oll Iplate of silxer, and dranl k Iiis Tokav and R11  llenisli wines fromt a culp
of gold.  His tlucal malltle was splendidly aldornedl willl
ermine, his coronet migllt hlave e(lialled ill vallte a royal
crovn, and Iiis feet, casedl ill velvet slioes, (thie lelngthl of
which, peals includlledl, imi,glt be two feet,) restel illon
a footstool of solid( silver.  lBut. it served  Iartly to illtiltmate
the cllaracter of the mall, that, altliothllu desirous to sliow
attention to thle Mlarquis of Mlontserrat, xvlhlon lie liad
courteously placed at his riglit hland, hle gave oIuchll 11l1ore
of his attention to hlis sprluch-sprecher, thllt is, Iiis n:ain of
conversation, or sayer of sayipngs, who stood behind the
I)uke's riglit shoulc'er.




140         T'IALES OE TIlE  CRUSADE.RS.
This personage was well attired, in a cloak andl doi blet
of black velvet, thit last of wllich was decorated with
various silver and gold coins, stitched upon it, in memory
of the nlllficent princes who had conferred themn, and
bearing a short staffi to whicll also bunches of' silver coins
were attached  by rings, which lie jingled by way of
attracting attention, when lie was about to say anything
which li he judged worthy of it.  This person's capacity
in the housellold of the Arch-Duke, was somewhat betwixt that of a minstrel and a counsellor; lie was by turns
a flatterer, a lpoet, and an orator, and thlose who desired
to be well witlh the Duke, generally studied to gain the
good-will of tlte spruch-sprecher.
Lest too mucll of this officer's wisdom should become
tiresome, tile Duke's other shoulder was occupied by his
htoj- narr, or court jester, called Jonas Schwanker, who
madce almost as mulch noise with his fools-cap, bells. and
bauble, as did tile orator, or man of talk, withl his jingling
baton.
These two personages threw out grave and comic nonsense alternately, wvhiile tleir master, la-ugh!ing or applauding them hlimself, yet carefnilly watchled tile countenance
of his noble guest, to discern wllat impressions so accomplishted a cavalier received from tllis display of Austrian eloquence and wit.  It is hlard to say whether the
man of wisdom or t}he man of folly contributed most to
the amusement of the p}arty, or stood hlighest in the estinmation of tlheir princely master; but tile sallies of both
seemed excellently well received.  Somnetinles they became rivals for the conversation, and clanged their flappers in emulation of each otlher, with a most alarming
contention; but, in general, they seemed on suchl good
terms, and so accustomed to sul)lport each other's play,
that the sprvch-sprecher often condescended to follow
up tne jester's witticisms with an explanation, to render
tllem  more obvious to the cal)acity of the audience; so
that hlis.wis(lom  becai e a sort of commentary on the
[buffoon's folly.  And sometimes, in requital, the hoff.




THE TALISMAN.                     1 I, 
aarr, with a pithy jest, wound up the coniclusioii of th(
Drator's tedious harangue
Whatever his real senltiments might be, Conrade took
especial care that his countenance shlould extpress notllhng
but satisfaction with what lle heard, and smiled or appllauded as zealously, to all appearance, as the ArchDuke himnself, at the solemn folly of the spruch-spreecher,
and the gibbering wit of the fool. -In fact, he watchedl
carefully until the one or other should introduce some
topic, favourable to the purpose which was upperniost
in his imind.
It was not long ere the King of England was brought
on the carpet by the jester, who had been accustomed
to consider Dickon of the Broorn (which irreverent epitliet he substituted for Ricllard Plantagenet) as a subject
of mnirth, acceptable and inexhaustible.  Thle orator, indeed, was silent, and it was only when applied to by Conrade, that lie observed, "' The genista, or broom-plant,
was an elnblem of Iultility; and it would h)e well vlien
those wlho wole it would remnember tile wvarning."
Tile alluision to the illustrious badge of Plantagenet
was thus renllered sufficiently manifest, and Jonas Scllwanker observed, tllat tlley who humrbled themselves had
been exalted witlh a vengeance.
Honoutr. unto whonm  honour is due," answered the
Marquis of MIontserrat; " we have all had som-e part
in these marchles and battles, and mnethinks other princes mighllt slhare a little in the renown which Richard
of Englantl engrosses aniongst minstrels a!nd mianize-singers.  Has no one of the Joyeuse science here present a
song in praise of the royal Arch-Duke of Austria, our
princely entertainer?"
Three minstrels e-mulously stepped forward with voice
and harp.' Two were silenced with difficulty by the
3pruch-sprecher, who seemed to act as nmaster of the
revels, and a hearing was at length procured for tile poet
preferred. wllo sung, in high German, stanzas which miavy
be thus trans ated:



142'TAI, ES   F THIE  CRU SADERS.
What brave chief shall head the forces,
Where thle redl-cross legions gather?
Best of horsemen, best of horses,
IIighest Ihead and fairest tlather.
Here the orator, jingling his staff, inter upted the hbare
to intimate to the party, what they ligllt not lhave inferred
firom  tile description, tlhat their royal host was the party
indicated, and a fill crowned  goblet went round  to the
ac-claination-l1och lebe der Herzog Leopold.   Another
stanza followed.
Ask not Austria why, mitdst princes,
Still iher bannller ises highest;
Ask as well thle strollg-wilc'd eaglc,
Wlhy to heaveni he soars the nighest.
" The  eagle," said  the expounder of dark  sayings,
I'  s the cognizance of our nolble lord tlhe Arch-Dullkeof his royal Grace, I would say —and thle eagle flies the
hIighest and nearest to the sun of all tlte feathered creation."
" The lion hath taken a spring above the eagle," said
Contrade, carelessly.
" The Arcll-Duke reddened, and fixed Iiis eyes on the
speaker, ws ile the  spruch-sprecher answered, after a
minute's consideration, " Th'le l,ordl M1arquis will pardon
rme-a lion  cannot fly above an eagle, because' no lion
bhath got wings."
" Except thle lion of Saint MTark," responlded llejester.
" Tlhat is tlie Venetian's banner," said tile l)ilke; "' but
assuiredly, that anplibious race, halla   nobles, half inerclhants, will not dare to place  their rank  in  comlparison
xvitllt omS.':
"Nay, it was not of the Venetian lion  that I sltoke,"
said tile NMarqulis of Mlontserralt; " I)ttt of' tile  tllree lions
passant of England-formerly, it is said, they were leop,ards, but  now  tiley  are becomne lions at all loints, a; d
Ynust take )precedence of beast, fish, or fowl, or woe worth
lie gain-stander."




11'H1  TALiSMAN.                  143
M'lean ycu seriously, my lord?" said the Austrian,,low  considerably  flushed with wine; "tl)ink you that
Ricllard of England asserts any preeminence over the
tree sovereigns whlo have been his voluntary allies in this
crusade?"
I know not bt but from circumstances," answered Conrade; "yonder hlangs his banner alone in the midst of
our camp, as if le were king anl generalissimo of our
wlhole Christian armny."
" And do you endure tllis so patiently, and speak of
it so coldly?" said the Arch-Duke.; "Nay, mny lord," answered Conrade, " it cannot concern the poor Marquis of Montserrat to contend against
an injury, patiently- submitted to by such potent princes
as Philip of France and Leopold of Austria.  What dishonour yout are pleased to subm-it to, cannot be a disgrace to me."
Leopold closed his fist, and struck on the table with
violence.' 1I have told Philip of this," hle said; " I have often
told him that it was our duty to protect the inferior prin
ces against the usurpation of' this islanlder-but lie answers me ever witll coll respects of tlheir relations together as suzerain and vassal, and that it were impolitic
in hirn to rmake an oipen breacli at this time and period."
" T-e worl(ld kn-ows that l'hilip is wise," said Conrade,
"c and will juldge llis subillission to be policy. —Yours,
my lord, you can yourself' alone account for; but I doubt
not yo  llhave deep reasons for subm-nitting to Englishi domnination."
I submit!" said Leopold, indignantly —" I, the ArchDuke of Austria, so imtllrtant and vital a limb of the
[loly Rloman emplire-J suLbmit myself to this Ki lg oJ
half an islandl-tlhis grailndson of a Normlan bastaJd!No, by Heaven!  The camni, and all Chlristendom. shall
see that I know hlow to right tnyself, and whlether I yield
ground onle inlch to thle Englislh ban-dog. -Up, my lieges
and meriy-men, tup and follow me!  We will-and that
without losing one instant-place the oaglP  of Austria,




144         TALES OF THE CRUSADEMIS.
where she shall float as high as ever floated the coglli..
zance of king or caisar."
With that he started from  his seat, and, amidst the
tumultuous cheering of his guests and followers, made
for the door of the pavilion, and seized his own banner,
which stood pitched before it.' Nay, my lord," said Conrade, affecting to interfere,
" it will blemish your wisdom  to make an affray in the
camp at this hour, and perhaps it is better to submit to
the usurpation of England a little longer than to  -"' Not an hour-not a moment longer," vociferated
the Duke; and, with the banner in his hand, and followed by his shouting guests and attendants, marched hastily to the central mount, from which the banner of England floated, and laid his hand on the standard-spear, as
if to pluck it firom the ground.
" My master, my dear master!" said Jonas Schwanker, throwing his arms about the Duke-" take heedlions have teeth   "
" And eagles have claws!" said the Duke, not relinquishing his hold on the banner-staff, yet hesitating to
pull it from the ground.
The speaker of sentences, notwithstanding such was
his occupation, had nevertheless somne intervals of sound
sense.  He clashed his staff loudly, and Leopold, as if
by habit, turned his head towards his nman of counsel.
"T The eagle is king among the fowls of the air," said
the spruch-sprecher, " as is the lion among the beasts of
the field-each has his dominion, separated as wide as
England and  Germany-do thou, noble eagle, no dishonour to the princely lion, but let your banners remain
floating in peace side by side."
Leopold witlhdrew his hand from the banner-spear, and
looked round for Conrade of Montserrat, but lie saw him
not; for the Marquis, so soon as hse saw  the  mnischief afoot, had withdrawn himself from the crowd, taking
care in the first place, to express before several neutral
persons his regret, that the Arch-Duke should have chosen
ile hours after dinner to avenge any wrong of which hte




TIlE TALISMANI.                     1t4
might think lie had a right to complain.  Not seeingc his
g!iest, to wallo   lie wished  -llore particularly  to fjave
addressed himself, thee Arcl-Dtike said aloud, tImat Iha-vina
ino wishl to breed dlissenisiol in tile arllry ot' tile Cross, lie
dlid tut vindicate llis owvn i)riileges and ri'igt to stand
upon an equality w'iti the King of En(dlandcl   witi1lout desiring, as lie inglit have done, to a(ldvance his banner,
w-lic lihe derived( from empeirrs,  his plrogenitors, above
that of a mere descendant of tile Counts of Anjou; and,
ill tile meantilne, lie coin-mmanded a 6ask of wine to be
broughlit itlief and pierced, for regaling the bystandlers,
who, with  trick of drum  and sound oft' lusic, (jltafled
many a carouse round the Austrian stanldard.  Tlis disorderlyN scene was not acted witiout a degree of noise,
whlichl alarmned the wlIole calnp.
T'lie critical hlour htad arrived, at whlich tie physician,
according to the rules of llis art, hlad predicted tlhat Ills
royal patient migllt be aw-akened witli safety, and thle
sponge had been applied for that purpose; and the leech
had not Inmade many observations ere lie assured tlhe baron
of' Gilsland tliat the fever ltad entirely left his sovereign,
and that such was the haapply strength of llis constitution,
it would not be even necessary, as in inost cases, to give
a second dose of thle powerfil medicine.  Richard him1nself seenlel to be of the sane ol)inion, for, sitting up and
rubbing his eyes, lie demanded of De Vaux what present
sumn of n.oneyv was in tlle royal coffers.
Tlme baron could not exactly inform him of the amouint.
"It matters not," said Ricllard; " be it greater or
smaller, bestow it all on this learned leecll, whlo   hathl, I
trust, given me back again to the service of the crulsade.
It it be less ttlan a thousand byzants, let him have jew-els
to mlIake it up."
" I sell not tlle wisdlom with which Allah has endowed
me," answered tle Arabian physician; " and be it known
to you, great Prince, thlat tile tlivine medicine, of lwhicIl you
Ihave partaken, xx ouldt lose its effects in nly unworthy hands.
tldJ  1 exchange its virtues eliher for gold or diamonds."
VQL.  I,P




4G          T'I'AL, l  OF T'Il, Ci IUSAD;.;I',.
"The Physician refuiseth a gratuity'" sa.d I)e VZLsS
to hillself.  "i'lis is mIlore extraordiniary thlan his being
an lun(lred| years old."
"TlllOtns (le Vautx," said Richarld, " tllou knowest nc
courlage but what beO11ns to tile sword, no bouInty anld
v rtue but whlat are usedl in ctivalry)-1 tell tlhee tlhat tllis
Moor, in his iidependence, nlpigllt set an exaniple to tlhen
who accoulnlt themselves the flower of' kniiiltlood.".
"It is reward enough flr me," saidl the Mliooi, folding
his arms on lhis bosom, and  nnaintaining an alttitude at once
respectfuil  and dignifiedl, " tllat so grent a lKirng as tile
Melech Ric5 slhould thus speak of llis servant.-But!now,
let me pray  you  again  to comp)ose  yourself oil your
couchl;  i'o thlougll 1 think thlere needs no farther repetitio)n of the divine draught, yet injury miglit ensue fronm any
too early exertion, ere youlr strengtlh be entirely restored."
" 1 mulst obey thee, Haklim,"  said the King; " yet believe me, my bosom  feels so firee from  tl e  -wasting filre,
whichl for so many (days fiathl scor(cledi it, that I care not
how soon I expose it to a b)rave man's lance.-Btut hlark!
what mean these shlouts, and that distant music, in the
carnl)?  Go, Thlomas ce Vaux, andl l(make inquiry."
" It is the Archl-Duke Leopold," said de Vaux, return*ing after a  n-iinute's absence, " who mrakes with hlis potcomp)anions solne procession tlhrougll tlle camp."
"' Thle driunken fool!" exclaimed King Riclard, "1 can
he not keep  lhis brutal inebriety withlin thle veil of his
pavilion, that lie mlust needs shllow his shame to all Christendom?-Wihat say you, Sir Marquis?" lie added, addressing himself to Conrade of Montserrat, who at that
momenIt enteled  tile tent.
"Tilhus null(ll, lonoured PrincCe," answered t1e Mar
quis, " tllat I deliglt to see yodur Mlajesty so xwell; and so
far recovered; and tlhat is a long speech for a nyi one to(
mtake who lhas partaken of the Duke of Austria's hos
pitaliry."
"What! you have  been dining with the Teutoi-ic
wine-skin," said the monarch; " and what frolic llas lhe
found out to cause a11  this disturbance?   Truly, Sit




TIlE  TALISMAN.                       147
Conratde, I hlave still held you so good a reveller, tl-,at I
wonder,at your qluitting the,amlne."
I)e Vatix, wlhtio  had got a little  belhind the  kiifnl, no
exelted lii:nsell;  by look anl  signrl, to niak-e the l\arquis
lnderlstan(l that lhe sllould say notlIing to Richard of' what
was passingl  witllout.   Bnlt Conrade understood not, or
bleeded lot, tle prohlibition.
" Whlt thle Arch-Dn!ke  does," lhe said, " is of little
consequence  to anly one, least of all to himlsell, since
lie  probably knows not whllat lie is acting-yet, to say
trutlh, it is a gatmbol, I sllould not like to shiare in, sin(ce
lie is pnllli ng down tell   banner of Eiigland  1roin Saint
Georoge's Aoluomlt in tle centre of tile camllp  yonder, and
-lisl ayill  Illis own ill its sLeadl."
w" ilat say'st tlotl?' exclaimt ed  the King, in a tone
whichli lmhlt Iiave waked the dead.
"Nay,'' said  tlie  lnlarquis, " let it not cliatfe  your
[tighllness, that a fool slldoldt act according to llis fiolly-"' Speak not to mie,"  sa:id L Richard, sp)ilginll, foi'   lis
couchi, ancl casting on lis clothes withl a ctespatclil xli(cht
seemed marvellous-1" speak not to mIe, Lord  Miar(cltis!
-De ilXllton, I comtnand thee  speak not a word to nme
-lhe that brealties but a syllalble, is no friend to Riclhard
Ilaantagenct.-l -llkiln, be silent, 1 cllarge thee!"
All tlhis wlile ItIe l King was lanstily clotiling lhimself, and,
witli tile last word!, snatchledtl   lis swoirl  from  tlie I)illar of
tile  tent, anll witliotut any otlier wel)pon, ori'  alling any
attendtace, lie rutslie(d (3nit of lis l)avilion.  Conrade, holding up1 }bis llanllds, as il' in astonislment, seemed w'\illing to
eiitel irito  cotlversation  viltll De Vaux, but Sir'i'llolas
pslied rutely past li6in, and{ calling to one of tle  royal
eq,:erries, saidl lastily,-"'Fly)' to Lord  Salisbury's quarters, and  let him  get hlis men togfetler, and follow  mne
enstavtly to Saint George's Mount.  Tell him  the King's
fever Ias left' lhis blood, alnd settled in l)is brain."
Imnperfetly hleartl, and still more imiperfectly comprehended(, b  thle stlartlel attendlant whvom De Vaux addressed tlthis hastily, the equerry arndl hlis fellow-servants of tlhe
rova! cliamnber ru.slhed hanstily into the tents of the neih-;l




148           TALES OF TIIE  CRISADEIlS.
bouring nobility, and quickly spreald an alarnl, as general
as tle cause  seemed  vague, tl.lroullhl tle wllole 3British
forces.  Thle English soldiers, waked ill alarni froll tlhat
noon-day rest w-ichl thle leat of tile c1lilnate liad taugiht
themi  to enjoy as a luxury, hastily askled each ctliei; tlhe
cause of tile tumtilt, anl,  itllout vwaiting an answver, supplied, by the force of their owril fancy, the want of inllfrmation.   Sonme saiud the Saracens were in the camp, solme
that tile King's life  vas attempted, somne tlhat lie ltad died
of tle fever tlhe preceding niglht, mIany  tliat lhe was assassinated  by the Duke of Austria.   The  nol)les and
officers, at an equal loss xwith tile common men to ascertain the real catuse of thle disorder, laboured only to get
tleir followers under arits and under autllority, lest their
rasllness should occasion some great lIisforl'tlle  to thle
crlsading arlny.      Thle Englisl trumliets souindled loud,
slhrill, and contiltlously.  Thle alarm-cry of' "IBows and
bills- bows and bills." was healrd fomn quarlter to quarter, again and again shollted, and again alCd  again ansvwered  by tlhe l)resence of thle  ready  warriors, and  tlheir
national invocation, " Saint George for merry England."
Trle  alarm  went through thle nearest quarter of tlhe
camp, and men of all the variouls nations assembled, whllere,
perlha)s, every people in Christendon had tlheir rel)resentatives, flew  to arlns, and drew  toglier lunderI circumstances of genieial confusion, of which  tlhey  knew
neitller the cause nor the object.  It was, however, luclky,
amid a scene so threatenin   g, tilhat the Earil of Salisbury,
while lie Inurried after De Vaux's  suminons, wvithI a few
only of tle  readiest English  mlen-at-arms, directed thle
rest of the Englishl host to  )e drawn tip anld 1keept tinder
arms, to advance to Riclhard's suc(ouri if necessity should
require, beut in fit arratr, and  uinder due comln-lat, and
not withi tile tlinultulry lhaste which tlileji own alar.mi, and
zeal for tle King's sifety, n-ighlt have dictated.
In the meanwl hile, xwitliout regardilng for one instant the
shoults, tile  cries,   the tt-mnult, whic.h  began to  thllicken,rolind him, Richard, withl his dress int the last disorder,
arald his sheathed llade tIlder lis armn, pursued  lhis way




THE TALJISMAN.                  149
wiih the utmost speed, followed only by De Vaux, and
one or two household servants, to Saint George's NM~ount.
H-e outsped even tile alarm whichl his impetuosity only
had excited, and Iassed the quarter of his own gallant
troops of Normandy, FPoitot, Gascony, and Anjou, before
thle disturbance had reached them, although the noise
accompanying the Gerinan revel had induced many of
the soldiery to get on foot to listen.  The handful of Scots
were also qtuartered in the vicinity, nor had they beenl
disturbed by the uproar.  But the King's person, and hi:
haste, were both remarked by the Knight of the Leopard,
whlo, aware that danger must be atfoot, and hastening to
sh-are in it, snatched his shield and swo-rd, and united him -
self to De Vaux, who with some difficulty kept pace with
his iml)atient and fiery master.  De Vaux answered a
look of curiosity, which thle Scottish knight directed towards him, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, and they
continued, side by side, to pursue Richard's steps.
The King was soon at the foot of Saint George's Mount,
the sides as well as platform  of which were now surrounded and crowded, partly by those belonging to the
DuIke of Austria's retinue, who were celebrating, with
shouts of jubilee, the act which they considered as an assertion of national honour; partly by bystanders of different nations, whom  dislike to the English, or mere curiositv,, had assembled together, to witness the end of
these extraordinary proceedings.  Through this disorderly troop Richard burst his way, like a goodly ship
under full sail, which cleaves hler forcible passage through
the rolling billows, and heeds not that they unite after hei
passage, and roar upon her stern.
Tliesummitof thle eminence was a small level space, on
whIich were pitched the rival banners, surrounded still
by the Arch-Duke's friends and retinup.  In the midst
of the circle was Leopold hinmself, still contemplating with
self-satisfaction the deerl lie had done, and still listening
to the slhouts of afpplause which his partizans bestowed
%vith no sparing   breath.  While he was in this state oi
24  vor. 11.




150           TALES OF THE  CRUSAD)ERSo
self-gratulation, Richard  burst into the circle, 3ttendRl,;nideed, only by  two mien, but in his own headol'ng energies an irresistible host.
W' Whlo ias lare,'   e saitd, laying his hlands upon Tiie
Atlstrian standard, and speaking in a voice like thie sound
whiclh p:;recedes an earthqutake; "  hl'o lhas dared to place
tlhi p-a:ltry rag  beside thle banner of England?"''i: A'cll-I)ukle wan-ited not personal courage, and it
was impossible lie could hear thiis question xwithout reply.
Yet, so much was lie troubled and surprised by tl:e unexpected arrival of Richard, and affected by thle general
awe inspired by hlis ardent and unyieldillg cllaracter, that
the demand was twnice re!peated, in a tone wlhichll seemed
to challenge heaven and earth, ere lihe Arcl-Dulie repiied, with such fitrimness as lie could colmmand, " It was I.
Leopold of Austria."
"' TLen shall leopold of Austria," replied Richard,
" presently see the rate at whlich his b)anler and his plIetensions are held by Ricllard of El' land."
So saying, lie pulle(l up) tle standard-spear, splintered
it to pieces, threw  the banner itself on the ground, and
p!laced llis foot ullpon it.' Thus," said lie, " I trample on thle banner of Austria-ls there a knigllt amnong your Teutonic chivalry, dare
impeach my (iced?"
Tlhere was a mollmentary silence; but there are no
braver men thain lie Gernllans.
"I!" arid  " 1!"  and  "1!" was heard from  several
knights of the )ulke's followers; and lie llilself added
Ills voice to those which accel)ted the King of England's
defiance.
" Whlly do we daily thus?" said thle Earl W allenrode.
a gigantic warrior from tile fiontiers of Hungary' "Brethren, and noble gentlermen, this man's foot is on ihe honour
D  -your country —l,et us rescue it fiom  violation, and
down vith the p"'ride of Eigland!"
"So  saying, lie drew  his swortd7, aand struck at the
Kjinb a blow whlich might hiave proved fatal,:ad not tie
Scot inter cepted and ciauglt it utpon his shield.




''IE  TALISMAN                      151
I h ave sworn," said King  Richard — and  his voice
was heard above all the tumult, whllicll now  waxed wild
and ]loul-d-' never to strike one whlose slhouilder bears the
cross; therefore live, Wa\tllenrode-but live to remelnbel
ieltiard. of EInf gland."
As fie spoke, lie grasped tle tall Hlunlgarian round the
wraist, and, utnlmatclled  in wrestling, as in otilier military
exerciises, bhurled  him backwards witll sucjl violence tllat
tle nmass flev, as if' discharged  fromn a military  engine,
not only thlrouh}~ thle ring of' spectators whlo witnessed tile
estlaordin ary  scene, but over thle edge of the  imount
itself;, down t!)e steel) side of whlicll Wallenrode  rolled
headlong, until, pitclhing at lengtlh upon his shoullder, he
(lislocated the bone,  and lay like one dead.  This almost
sape'rnatural d:splay of strengtl did not encourage either
tile 1)lke or any of' his followers. to renew  a personal
contest so inausliciously commenced.  Those who stood
farthest back did, indeed, clash thleir swords, and cry
l~t, " Cut tlle island mastiff to pieces!" but those who
wvere nearer, veiled, perlhal)s, tlheir personal fears under
an affected regard for order, and cried, for the most part,
"C Peace! peace! the peace  of the Cross-the peace of
H-oly Churlcll, and our Fathlel ie  Pope!"
These various cries of the assailants, contyadicting each
other, sllowved thleir irres(lution; whlile Richard, his foot
still on the arch-ducal  bannler, glareld  routld hil, with
an eye that seemned to seek an enemy, and frorn  wvlich
the angry nobles shirlnk appalled, as friom tile threatened
grasp of a lion.  De Vatix and the Knight of tlle Leol)aid kept their places beside him; anld though the swords
Nwhich  they held were still shleathed, it was phlain that thley
were prompt to protect Rlichard's person to the very last,
and their size and remarkable strength plainly showed the
defence would be a desperate one.
Salisbury and his attendants were also now drawing
near, with bills and partizans brandished, and bows al.
ready belided.
At this moment, King Phlilip of France, attended b)
tine or two of his nobles, came on the platform  to inqulire




l52         TALES OF TILE CRUSADERS.
tile cause of the disturbance, and made gestures of surprise at finding tile King of England raised from his sickl
bed, and conforiontin  their common ally the Dulie of Aus
tria, in such a menacing and insulting posture.  Richarc
lirnself blushed at being discovered by Plilip, whose
sagacity lie respected as much as he disliked his person
in. an attitude neither becomin, his character as a monarch, nor as a crusader; and it was observed that he withdrew his foot, as if accidentally, fiom the dishonoured
balneir, and exchlanged  his look of violent emotion for
oiune of afllcted conmposure and indifference.  Leopold also
struglded to attain soime degree of calmness, mortified as lie
was by havilng been seen by Philip in the act of' passively
subinitting to tile insults of the fiery  King of England.
I- osessed of many of those royal qualities for whlich
lie ras termed by his subjects the AugUSt, Philip might
be termed the Ulysses, as Richard was indisputably the
Achilles, of the crusade.  The King of France was sagacious, wise, deliberate in council, steady and calm in
action, seeing clearly, and steadily pursuing, the meastires most for the interest of his kingdom-dignified and
royal in his deportment, brave in person, but a politician
rather than a warrior.  The crusade would have been no
choice of his owvn, but the spirit was contagious, aiid the
expedition was enforced upon him by the church, and by
the unanimous wish of his nobility.  In any other situation, or in a milder age, his character might have stood
higlher than that of the adventurous Coeur de Lionl;
but in the crusade, itself anl undertaking w holly irrational,
sound reason was the quality, of all others, least es
timated, and the chivalric valour which both the age anc
the enterprize demianded, was considered as debased, ii
mingled with- the least touch of discretion.  So tlhat the
-nerit of PI'lilip, compared with that of his haughty rival,
slhowed klie thle clear but minute flame of a lamp, placed
near tlhe glare of a huge blazing torch, which, not possessipg hall' the utility, miakes ten times more impression
cn the eye.  Philip felt his inferiority in public opinion,
wivth thle pain natural tq an Iligll-spirited pl'nc;  and l'




1'iF  t  TALISMAN.                   153
Za:no: lhe wondered at if lie took such opprtunities aa
cffred!, for placin, his own character in ilore advantateous contrast with tlhat of his rival.  The!:)resent seemed onel of th-se occasions, in wJiicll plrudence and calmnness mnighlt reasonably  expect to triulnph over obstinacy
and impetuous violence.
What means this unseemly broil betwixt tile sworn
brethren of tile Cross-thle  royal NMajesty  of England
and thle pi incely Dukte Leopold?  lHowv is it possible that
those wvllho are the chliefs and pillars of tiis bloly expedition —"
"A truce with tily remonstrance, France," said Richadl, enlraged inwardly at finding hiinself )placedl on a sort
of equality witlh Leopold, yet not knowing low to resent
it,-"  this duke, or prince, or pillar, it'.yol o vill, llath
been insolent, and I have cllastise(d Iim-that is all.  Here
is a coil, forsooth, because of spurning a hlound!"
"M ajesty of France," said  the Dulke, " I appeal to
youl an(i every sovereign prinlce against tile Ioul indlignity
vhl'ich I have sustained.   Tills King  of Exlgland  hath
pulled down my banner-torn and trampled oil it."
" Because  lie  ilad the  audacity  to plant it beside
nine,"  saidl Richard.
"   y rank as thine cqual entitled  me," replied the
Duke, cmLoldened by thle pireselce of' Philip.
" Assert Stuclh equality  fb  thly    ierson,"   said  King
Ricilard, "L an((, by Saint George, I xvill treat thy pelson
as I did tlhy broilered kIerclrie    tilere, fit but for tile mleanest tuse to whicll k ercllief Im!at be pultt."
"L Nay, but )patience, brothlei of Elngland,"  said Plilip,' aind I will piresently shlow  Austria tlhat lie is wrong in
this llatter.-Do not tllink, noble Drike," lie continued,
" tlhat iln permnitting thle  standard of Egllland to occ('uipy
the hliliest l)oint in o(nr cali, pl re, tlie ildelpedthnct sovereinlis of' tle crusade, ackllowlede any  inferiority to
the royal Richlard.   It were incoIsistent to thlink so,
since  even tile  oriflainte  itself  thle  -reat bannmer  ol
Fr'iice, to wlhilh tie royal Ri  i clard hlilnself, in respect
f hlis Frenc!h 1   )ssessions, is but a vassal, holds for the




13:1        TALES  OF  UHfE  CRUSADERS.
present an inferior place to the Lions of England    3ui
as sworn brethren of tile Cross, Inilitary pilgrims, w:.:o
laying asidce the pomp and price of this wor ld,  are hteillg wvith our swords tile way to the I-oly Sepulchlle, I
1myself; and tile othier princes, have renounced to  iit:g
Ricarid, froni respect to his high renown and great feats
of arms, tlhat precedence, which elsewhere, and  upon
othc-r lmotives, would not lhave  been yielded.   1 am
saitisfied(l that when your royal grace of Austria shall hlave
considerled thlis, you \ill express sorro\vw  or having placedt
yourI batnner on this spot, and that thle royal Majesty  ol
Enloland \vill then give satislfaction for the insult lie has
offer ed."
Tlle spruch.-sprecher and the jester had both retired to
a safe distance when matters seemed coming to blows,
but returlned when words, their own commodity, seemetl
again about to become the order of the day.
The man of  pr'overbs was so delighted  with Philip's
politic speech, that lie claslled his baton at the conclusion.
by way of elmpllasis, and forgot the presence in wlich lhe
was so far as to say aloud, that lie hiinself had never said
a wiser thing in hiis life.
" It may be so," whllispered Jonas Schwanker, ~" iut
we shiail be whipt if you speak so loud."
T'lhe Duke answered sullenly, tllat lie would refer his
quarrel to thle General Council of the Crusade-a motion
whichll Philip higllly applauded, as qualilied to take away
a scandal most lharniful to Cllristendom.
IRiclhard, retaining the salne careless attitude, listened
to Pi1lip) until hlis oratory seemed exhausted, and thlen
sait aloudf,' I an drowsy — this fever llangs about me
still.  Brother of France, tlhou art acquainted withll ny
humtour, and that I hlave at all times but few  words tG
spare-lnow, therefore, at once, I will submtit a matter
touching the hlonour of England, neither to Prince, Pope,
nor Council.  Here stands my banner-wllatsoever pennon shall be reared within three buitts' lengtll  of it-ny,
were it the oriflamrme, of  hlicll you were,  tIllink, bu!
lO,'w speaking, slhall be ti eated as tllat disllonoured rag'




THE  TALISNMA.-                    I5,)
nor will I yield other satisfaction than tllat wllichl tilese
poor lin-ibs call render in tile lists to alny bold c.hallenllge,
— ay, were it aglinst five champions insteadl o' one."
"Now," said tile jester, whlisperin, lhis cormpan)lion,1' tllat is as conil)lete a piece of folly, as if' I mnyself had
sai(l it-but yet, I think, thlere may be in thlis matter a
greater fool than Richard yet."
"And wh!o may that be?" asked the man of wisdom.
" Philip," said the jester, " or oulr own royal Dtlke,
should  either accep)t tile challenge-But oh, most sage
lruch-sprechIr, what excellent kings would thou and I
have made, since those on whose heads these crowns
iiave fallen, can p)lay the proverb-mon-ger and the fool as
cotnil)letely as ourselves!"
While tllese worthies plied their offices apart, Philip
answered  calmly to the  almost inljurious defiance  of
Richardl,-  I came not hlither to awaken fresh qularrels,
contrary to tile oath we have sworn, and the holy cause
in whllich we have engaged.  1 I)art from  my brother of
England as brothers should part, and' tile only strife between the Lions of England and the Lilies of France
shall be, wliicll shall be carried d(eepest into the ranks
of the infidels."
" It is a bargain, my royal brother," said Richard,
stretching out lis lland with all the firankness whllich belonged to his rasli btit generous disposition; " and soon
may xwe have the o})portunity to try this gallant and fiaternal wager."
" Let this noble Duke also partake in the friendship of
this  happy  moment,"  said Philip; and the  )ulke approached half-sullenly, lhalf-willing to enter into somen
accommodation.
" I think not of fools, nor of tlleir folly," said Richlard
carelessly, and the Arcll-Duke, trlining his back on him
witlhdrew from the ground.
Richard looked, after himn as lie retired.
" There is a sort of glow-worm  courage," he said
"that shows only by night.  I must not leave this bainei
unguarded ii dar\kness- by  day-light the look of the




rrALES OF THE CItUSAI)EIIRS
Lioiis will alone defend it.  Here, Tllonmas of Gilslantl,
I give tIlee tile charge of' the standard-x- atch ovel tlie
hc-no ur of Eilcland."
" Her safetr is yet more {,eai to Ine," sai(l ie Vaus,'andt tle life of Ricllard is tile safety of' England —
tuIst hlave yo' Lr Tighness back to your tent, and tliat without filrthler tarliance."
Tl'lo], art a rougll and peremiptory nurse, De Vanlx,"'
said the KinM, sniling; and then added, addressing Sir
Kenneth, " Valiant Scot, I owe thee a boon, and I xvillpay it richly.   llere stands the banner of England
Watch it as a novice does his armour on the nihl1t before
lie is dubbed-Stir not firom it three spears' length, an(l
defend it wvith thy body against injury or insult-  Setond
thy bugle, if thou art assailed by mnore than three at once.
Dost thou undertake the chalrge?"
Willingly," said Kennetll; " and will discharge it
upon penalty of rny head.  I will but arm me, and return
hitler instantly."
The Kings  of France  and England then took formal
leave of each otlier, l     uiding, under an appearance of courtesy, thle grounds of comlplaint which either had against the
other-Ricllard against. Plilip, for what he deemed an
officious interference betwvixt hlim and Austria, and Plliiip
against Cceur de Lion, for the disrespectfiul manner in
which his mediation had been received.   Those whlom
this disturbance had assembled, now drew\  off in different
directions, leaving the contested mount in tile saine solitude wlhich had subsisted till interrupted by the Austrian
bravado.  Mlen judged of the events of the day according to their ptrtialities; and while the English cllarged
the AustJiian witI hlaving aflbrded the first ground  ot
quarrel, those of othler nations concurrecd in casting  tlle
greater blame ulplo tlle insular hlauglltitness and assruming
character of' Richllard.' Tlio 1 seest," said the Marquis of MIontsecrat to the
Grand M ister of the Templars, " tlhat subtle courses are
more eiffe tive than xiolence.  I have unloosed thel bonds




TIHE TALISMAN'.                  1 57
which held together this bunch of sceptres and lancestllotl  ilt see thenm shortly fall asunder."
" 1 vould llave called thy plan a good one," said the
Templar,  "L had there been but one man of courage
among yonder cold-blooded Austrians, to sever tile bonds
oft which you speak, with his sword.  A knot that is unloosed may be again fastened, but not so the cord lwhich
has been cut to pieces."
CHAPTER XII.'l'Tis woman that seduces all mankind.
(Gay.
IN the days of chivalry, a dangerous post or a perilous
adventure,was a reward frequently assigned to military
bravery as a compensation for its fbrmner trials;-just as
in ascending a precipice, the surmounting one crag only
lifts the climber to points yet more dangerous.
It was midnight, and the moon rode clear and high in
heaven, when Kenneth of Scotland stood upon his wvatch
on St. George's Mount, beside the banner of England,
a solitary sentinel, to protect the emblem of that nation
against the insults which mighllt be meditated among thle
thousands whom Richard's pride had made his enemies.
High thcughts rolled, one after each other, upon the
mind of the warrior.  It seemed to him as if lie had gained some favour in the eyes of the cllivalrous mnonarch,
wvho, till noxw, lhad not seemed to distinguish him aimong
tlhe crowds of brave men lwhomn his rellown had assenlbled under }his banner, and Sir Kel:netll little recked that1
thle displlay of royal regartd consist(c inl )lacitlg  lill ulo)li
a post so perilous.  T'lhe devotionl of llis ambitious artia
high-placed affection, inflamed his military entlhusiasmn
VOL. I1.




lbs 5TALES OF TIlE  CRUSADERS.
Hopeless as that attachment was, in almost mny conceiv
able circutnstances, tllose whicll llad lately occurred tlad,
in some degree, diiimilnislled the distance between Edith
andl himnself.  Hle  luplon whtomn Riclard lhad  conferred
tile distinction of gutardinll his banner, was no longer an
adventtrer of sliglit note, but platcedl within tle regard o
a princess, altiloughl ile was as fhr as ever fr'om her level.
An unknolwn and obscure fate could not now\ be' his.  II
lie was surprised( and slain on tile post  hllich had been
assigned him, his death-and lie resolved it should be
glor1ious-. —-.lust deserve tile praisces as well as call down
tl:e vengeance of Cteur de Lion, and be followed by the
regrets and even the tears of the high-born beauties of
the English Court.  He had now  no longer reason to
fear that he should die as a f,, l dietll.
Sir Kenneth had full leisure to enjoy these and similar
high-souled thougllts, fostered by that wild spirit of' clhivalry, wvlicl, amid its most extravagant and fantastic fiighlts,
was still pure from  all selfish alloy-generous, devoted,
and perhaps only tllus far censurable, that it proposed
objects and courses of action inconsistent with the frailties
and imperfections of man.  All nature around him slept
in calm moonshine, or in deep shadow.  The long rows
of' tents and pavilions, glimmering or darkening as they
lay in the imoonlight or in the shade, were still and silent as
the streets of a deserted( cit'r.   Beside the banner-staff
lay tile large  stag-liound already  mentioned, the sole
comnpaion of Kennetll's watch, on whose vigilance he
tlrusted tor early warning of the approach of any hostile
foiotstep.  The noble animnal seemed to understand the
purpose of their watch, for lie looked from timne to time
at tmle riclh folds of the lheavy l ennon, anl, wlen thl c:ry
of the senttinels carme fi'om thle distant lines and dlefences
of the caln), lie alswered tlhem  itli one deep  and  reitl rated bark, as it' to afirmtn tllat lie too vwas vigilant in
his dilty.  From time to time, also, lie lozwered llis lofty
head, and wagged his tail, as his master passed and repassed him in the s}hort turns which he took upont his
post;  or0, wlen the klidihht stood silent alld abstracted.




TIlE TAL1SMAN.                   I! 
learling on hlis lance and looking up towards Heaven, his
faithful attendant ventured sometimes, in the phrase ot
coinance, " to disturb hlis thouglhts," and awaken him
fron his reverie, by thrusting llis large rotrgll snout into
the kniglhts aautltletted hand, to solicit a transitory caress.
rhus itassed two liours of thle Knight's watch witlhout
anything - remlarkable occulrring.  At lengtll, and upon a
sutdden, tile gallant stag-hound bayed furiously, and( seemed abouit to dashl f:'ward where the shadow lay the darkest, yet waited, as if in tile slips, till tie should know the
pleasure of' his master.
" Who goes there?"  said Sir Kenneth, aware that
there was somnethinlg creeping forward on the shadowy
side of the Mount.
" in the name of Merlin and Maugis," answered a!hoarse disagreeable voice, " tie up your four-footed dernol there, or I come not at you."
" And who art thou that would approach my post?"
said Sir lKenneth, bendinrg his eyes as lkeenly as lie coutld
on some object, which he could just observe at the bottorn of thle ascent, without being able to distinguish its
fc,lrm.'" ieware-I am here for death and life."
" Take up thy long-fanged Sathanas," said the voice,
"' or I will con jure him with a bolt fiom my arblast."
At the same time was heard the sound of' a spring or
check, as when a cross-bowv is bent.
"Unbend thy arblast, and come into the moonlight,"
said the Scot,'" or, by Saint Andrew, I1 will pin thee to
lthe eartll, be what or wlhom thou wilt."
As lie sp)oke, he poised his long lance by the middle,
and, fixingl his eye ulpon the object wvlicll seemed to move,
he brandislled the weapon as if meditating to cast it froln
his hand-a use of the weapon sometimes, thoughl rarely, resorted to, when a missile was necessary.  Bilt Sir
Kenneth was ashamed of his purpose, and grounded his
wreapon, when there stepped *from the shadow  into the
moonlight, like an actor entering upon the stage, a stunted
decrepid creattre, whom, by hIis fiintast;c dress and deformity, he recognized even at some distance for the
male of the two dwarfs whom lie lhad seen in the chape




16)' A, I,;S JF''I'TlE CI/USA)IV 1I.S.
at Engaddi.  Recollecting, at the same moment, tlhe
other and far different visions of that extraordinarry niglit,
ne gave his dog a signal, which lie instantly understood,
and, returning to the standard, laid himself down beside it
with a stifled growl.
The little distorted miniature of humanity, assured of
his safety from an enemy so formidable, came panting up
the ascent, which the shortness of his legs rendered laborious, and when he arrived on the platform at the top,
shifted to his left hand the little cross-bowv, which iwas
just such a toy as children at that period were permitted
to shoot small birds with, and, assuming an attitude of great
dignity, gracefully extended his right hand to Sir Kenneth,
in an attitude as ifl he expected lie iwould salute it.  But
suchi a result not following, lie demanded. in a sharp and
angry tone of voice, " Soldier, wherefore renderest thou
not to Nectabanus the homage due to his dignity?-Or is
it possible that thou canst have forgotten him?"
" Great Nectabanus, " answered the knight, willing to
soothe the creature's hbumour, " that were difficult for any
one who has ever looked upon thee.  Pardon ne, however, that being a soldier upon my post, with my lance in
my hand, I may not give to one of thy puissance the advantage of coming within my guard, or of mastering my
weapon.  Suffice it, that I reverence tlhy  dignity, and
submit myself to thee as humbly as a man-at-arms in my
place may."
" It shall suffice," said Nectabanus, " so that you presently attend me to the presence of those who have sent
me hither to summon you."
" Great sir," replied the knight, " neither in this can
I gratify thee, for my orders are to abide by this banner
till day-break-so I pray you to hold me excused in that
matter also."
So saying, lie resumed his wall upon the platform;
but the dwarf did not suffer him so easily to escape from
his importunity.
"Look you," he said, placing himself before Sir Kenneth,  so as to interrupt his way, " either obey me, Sir
Knight, as in duty bound, or 1 will lay the command lpo




THE TALISMAN.                     161
tnce, in tile name of one whose beauty could call down
the genii from  thleir sphere, and whose grandeurs could
conmmnand tile immlortal race whllen tley had descendedl.'
A wvild and improbable conjecture arose in the kniight's
mind, but lhe repelled it.  It was impl)ossible, lie tllou-!1t
that the lady of hisjove slhould lhave sent him such a message by such a messenger-yet his voice trembled as lhe
said, "' Go to, Nectabanuls.  Tell ime at once, and as a
true man, whicetler this sublime lady, of' whlomn tlhou speakest, be other than tile houri withl whose assistance 1 belleld
thee sweeping the chapel at Engaddli?"
"How! p)resumlnptuous   knight," replied the dwarf
"' think'st thou the mistress of our own royal afiections,
the sharer of our greatness, and the partner of our comeliness, N;ould demean herself by laying charge on suclh a
vassal as thou!  No, highly as thou art honoured, thou
hast not yet d(eserved the notice of Queen Genevra, thle
lovely bride of Arthur, from whose higll seat even princes
seeim  but pilgmies.   But look tllou here, and as thou
knowest or disownest this token, so obey or refuse her
commands, who hathll deigned to imnipose them on thee."
So saying, he placed in thle knight's hands a ruby ring,
whliclh, even in the moonlight, lie had no difficutlty to recognize as that whvlich  sually graced the finger of the higfhborn ladv to whol-se service lie hlad  devoted himself.
C'ould lie have doubted the truth of the token, he would
hlave been convinced by the sinall knot of carnation-coloured ribbon, which wvas fastened to tile ring.. This
was his lady's favourite colour, and imore than once had
lie himself, assuming it for thlat of his ownl liveries, caused
the carnation to triumph over all other Ihues in tile lists
and in the battle.
Sir Kenneth was struck nearly mute, by seeing such a
token in such hlands.
" In the name of all lthat is sacred, fiom whlom didst
thot receive this witness?" said the k1nigrhlt; " lbring, ii
W.hou canst, thy wavering understanding to a right settlerment for a minute or tiwo, and tell mre t!he person by wllom
VOL. II.




6fi2         TALES OF T-IE CRIUSADE1ls.
tlou art sent, and the real purpose of thy message.-and
take eheed what thou say'st, for this is no stiubject lor
Ruofibonery."
" Fol0d( and foolisll knight,i" said tlhe dwarf, "\ wouidst
thou know more of' thlis matter, thlan that thou art lc.nouredl vith comlllan(ls l 1o1i1 a p)lltcess, delivered to thlee by a
hing?-We list not to p)arley wit1 tllee flartheir than to corimand thee, in tile namne, and by tlme ipower of tihat rin), to
followv us to lher who is the owNner of the ring.  Every Iinnute that thlou tarliest is a crlimle against tlly allegiance.':
" Good Nectabanus-bethlink thlyself," sai(l tile knilht,
-"  Cani my lady know where and u)on wha llt Cdut! I am1 
this night engagecl?-Is she aware thlat my lifc-Pshaw,
wvly should I speak of life-but tlat mly honour dleperlds
on my gtlarding this banner till daybreak-and can it be
Iler w\ish that I shlould leave it even to p)ay lhomage to lier!
-It is imlpossible-tlle princess is ]leasecd to hXe mlerry Nwith
her servant, in sending  hin suchl  a mnessage; and a. iust
think so the rather that shle hath chosen suchll a messenger."
" 01h, keep your belief," said Nectabansls, turning
round as if to leave the platfolrm, " it is little to me wlether
you be traitor or true man to this royal lady-so fare
thee well."
" Stay, stay-I entreat you stay," said Sir Kenneth;' answer mne but one qulestion-Is the lady wxlho sent
thee near to this place?"
"What sigllifies it?" said the dwarf;    " ought fidelity
to reckon lfurlongs, or miles, or leagues-like the poor
courier, who is paid for llis labour by tile distance which
he traverses? Nevertheless, thou soul of suspicion, I tell
thee, thle fair owner of tile ring, now sent to so unworthly
a vassal, in whom  there is neither truth norr courage, is
not more distant fiom this place, than tlhis arblast can
send a bolt."'rlie knihllt gazed again on the ring, as if to ascertain
that there was no possible falsehood in the token. —" Tell
mne," le said to tlhe dwarf, " is my presence require-l fo;
any lengtll of time?"




TIHE TAtISMIAN.                    103
" Time!" answered Nectaba,,us, in his flighty man.
ner; "what call you tille?  I see it not-i feel it l)ot
— it is but a sll'td-owy  name — a succession of brieatlliiis
uneasutred ftotll by nigllt by tile clank of a bell, by day,
by a slladjw crossing   along  a dial-stone.  Know\'st tllou
not a ti'-te klnigtlt's time shotl(d only be reckoned by tihe
deeds that h1e performs in bellalf of God and his lady?"
The wo-rds of truttl, tllough in the mouth of folly,"
said tile knight.   " And dothi my lady really sumlmon
me to some deed of actionl, in her namle and for liel sake?
-and may it not be l)ostponed fbr even the few.hllours till
daybreak?"
Slhe req~uires thy presence instantly," said the dwarf,
"' and witlhout tile loss of so muchl time as wvotuld be told
by ten grains of the sand-glass-Hearken, tlLou coldblooded and stiuspicious knighlit, these are hler very words
-Tell iiini that the hand which dropped roses can bestow
laurels."
This allusion to their meeting in the chapel of Engaddi,
sent a thousand recollections through Sir Kennetll's brain,
and convinced hiil that thle message delivered by tlhe
dwarf was genuine.  The rose-buds, withered as tlhey
were, were still ttreasured under his cuirass, and nearest
to his hIeart.  He paused, and could not resolve to forego
an op)portunity-tlhe only one which nmight ever offer, to
gain grace in. her eyes, whllon lie lhad installed as sovereign
of Ihis affections.  Thle dwarf, in thle meantime, atugmnented his confutsion  by insisting eithetr that lie miust return
the rin-, or instantly attend him.
"  old, hold yet a moment, hlold," said the knight, and
proceeded to mutter to himself —" Am I either the subject or slave of King Richard, more than as a friee knight
swvorn to the service of the crusade?  And whllom  lave
I come hitller to honour with lance and sword?-Our holy
cause and my transcendent lady."
"The ring, the ring-" exclaimed the dwarf impatient
ly; " false and slothlfiul knigllt, return tile ring wl.ivh
thou art unwortlhy to touch or to look upon."




164         T.tLES OF TIlE CIJUSADE51'S.
" A nimoment, a mnoment, good Nectabanus," said Sil
Kennetl; " disturb not 1my thoughts. —What if tlhe Saracells were just nlow to attack our lines? Sl!ould I staN- liere
like a sworn viassal o0 i:.llln:ld,  atchlling that her king's
pride sufflered  nio lillliliation; or siould I speed to ll.e
breach, and fighlit for the Cross?-T'lo the breach assureldy; and next to the cause of God coine the commands
of' my liege lady.-And yet, C(tur d(e Lion's l!ehestnmy own lromise!-Nectal)anus, I coll jtlle thee once more
to say-, are you to conduct me far foi'on hence?"
" But to yonder pavilion; and since )you must needs
know," replied Nectabanus, " tile Inoon is glimmering
on tile gilded ball which crowns its root, and which is
worth a king's ransom."
" I can return in an instant," said the knight, shutting his eyes desperately to all farther consequences.  " I
san hlear fio;n thence the bay of my dog, if' any one anproaches the stan'dard-l    will throw myself at my lady's
feet, and pray lier leave to return to conclude my watch.
-Here, Roswal, (calling his hlound, and tllrowillg down
h:is mantle by the side of tie standard-spear,) watch thou
here, and let no one alpproacl..
The majestic dog looked in his master's face, as if to
be sure that he understood his charge, tlhen sat dowvn beside the mantle, wvith ears elect anti head raised, like a
sentinel, understanding  perlect)ly the purpose tbr which
lie was stationed thlere.
" Conime now, good Nectabanus," said the knighlt, " let
us ~hasten to obey thle commands thou hast brought."
"Haste lie that will," said the dwarf, sullenly; " thlou
hast not been in haste to obey my summons, nor canD I
walk fast enouglh to follow your long strides-you do not
wallk like a man, but. bound like an ostrichl in the desert."
There were but two ways of conquering the obstinacy
of Nectabanus, who, as lie spoke, dimitinished his wallk
into a snail pace.  For bribes Sir Kennictht had no means
-for soothing no time; so in his impatience lie snatched
the dwarf up from tile grou.nd, vpnd bcerii;g hinl alo(lg,
notwitllstanding lhis entreat.,es Ia dl   fear,' recn.'  eld artl y




TIIE; TALISMAN:               I'35
to the pavilion pointed out as that of the Queen.  In approaching it, however, the Scot observed there was a
small guard of soldiers sitting on the ground, who had
been concealed fronm him by the intervening tents.  Wondering that the claslt of his own armour had not yet attracted their attention, and supposing that his motions
might, on the present occasion, require to be conducted
with secrecy, lie placed the little panting guide upon the
ground to recover his breath, and point out what was next
to be done.  Nectabanus was both frightened and angry;
but he had felt himself as completely in the power of the
robust knight, as an owl in the claws of an eagle, and
therefore cared not to provoke him to any farther display
of his strength.
He mnade no complaints, therefore, of the usage he
had received, but turning amongst the labyrinth of tents,
lihe led the knight in silence to the opposite side of the
pavilion, which thus screened them from the observation
of the warders, who seemed either too negligent or too
sleepy to discharge their duty with much accuracy. Arrived there, the dwarf raised the under part of the canvass
from the ground, and made signs to Sir Kenneth that he
should introduce himself to the inside of the tent, by
creeping under it.  The knight hesitated-there seemed
an indecorum in thus privately introducing himself into
a pavilion, pitched, doubtless, for the accommodation of
noble ladies; but lle recalled to remembrance the assured tokens which the dwarf had exhibited, and concluded
that it was not for him to dispute his lady's pleasure.
He stoopt accordingly, crept beneath the canvass inclosure of the tent, and heard the dwarf whisper fromin
wfthout,-"- Remain there until I call thee."




TALES OF  THE  CRUBADER8.
CI- APTER  XIII.
You talk of Gaiety and Innocence!
The moment when the fatal fruit was eaten,
They parted ne'er to imeet again; and Malice
Has ever since been playmate to light Gaiety,
From the first moment when the smiling infant
l)estroys the flower or butterfly Ihe toys with,
To the last clhuckle of the dyilng miser,
Who oni his deathbed lauglgs his last to hear
His wealthy neighllbour has become a bnikrupt.
Old Play.
SIR KEN;FTH was left for some minutes alone, and in
darkness.  Here was another interruption, which must
prolong his absence from his post, and he began almost to
repent the facility with which lie had been induced to quit
it.  But to return without seeing the Lady  Edith, was
now  not to be thought of.  IHe had committed a breach
of military discipline, and was determined at least to prove
the reality of the seductive expectations which had tempted him to do so.  Meanwhile, his situation was unpleasant.
There was no light to show  him  Into what sort of' apartment he had been led —the Lady Edith was in immedi.
ate attendance on the Queen of England-and  the discovery of his having introduced himself thus furtively into
the royal pavilion, might, were it discovered, lead to much
and  dangerous suspicion.  While he gave way to these
unpleasant reflections, and began almost to wish that he
could achieve his retreat unobserved, lie heard a noise
of female voices, laughing, whispering, and speaking, in
an adjoining apartment, from which, as the sounds gave
him  reason  to judge, he could only  be separated by a
canvass partition.   Lamps were burning, as he might
perceive by the shadowy light which extended itself even
to his side of the veil which divided the tent, and lie could
seo shades of several figures sitting and moving in thlp




T'-If  TA'I!SM.AN.               167
acjdoining apartment.  It cannot be termed discourtesy
in Sir Kenneth, that situated as he was, he overheard a
conversation, in which he found himself deeply interested
"Call lier-call her, for Our Lady's sake," said the
voice of one of these laughing  invisibles.  " Nectabantls,
thou shalt be made arnmbassador to Prester John's court,
to show tlhem how wisely thou canst discharge thee of
a mlnission."
The shrill tone of the dwarf was heard, yet so miuch
subduled, that Sir Kenneth could not understandl wilat ihe
said, except that he spoke something of the means of merrimnent given to the guard.
" But how shall we rid us of the spirit which Neetabanus hath raised, my maidens?"
" Hear me, royal madam," said another voice   " if
tile sage and princely Nectabanus be not over-jealous of
his most transcendant bride and empress, let us send hler
to get us rid of this insolent knight-errant, who can be so
easily persLuaded that high born dames lmay need the use
of his insolent and overweening valour."
It were but justice, methinks," replied  another,
" that the Princess Guenever should dismiss, by her
courtesy, hilll, whom her husband's wisdom has been able
to entice hither."
Struck to the heart with shame and resentment at what
lie had heard, Sir Kenneth was about to attempt his escape from  the tent at all lbazards, when what followed
arrested his purpose.
" Nay, truly," said thle first speaker, " our cousin
Edith must first learn how tlis vaunted wight hath conilucted himself, and we must reserve the power of giving
her ocular proof that he llath failed in his duty.  It may
be a lesson will do good upon her; for, credit me, Calista,
I have sometimes thotught she has let this northern adventurer sit nearer lier heart than prudence would sanction."
One of the otlher voices was then heard to mutter something of the Lady Edith's prudence and wisdom
"Prudence, wench!" was the reply —" It is mere
p)ride, anid the desire to be thought more rlgid than any ot




t oS         TALES OF TIIE  CRUSADERS
Vs.  Nay, I will not quit my advantage.  You know well
that when s!le hlas us at filLt, no one can, in a civil way,
lay your error befbore you more precisely than call my
Lady Edith-But here she comes."
A figule, as if entering the apartment, cast upon the
piartition a slhade, whllichl glided along slowly until it mixed
witil thlose xvlicli already clouded it.   Despite of the
bitter dis)app)ointlnent which lie had experienced-despite
the insult an(d injury with wllich it seemed lie had been
visited by tile malice, or, at best, by the idle hlumour ol
Queen Berengaria, (for he already concluded tllat she
wvho sploke loudest, and in a commanding tone, was tlle
tvife of Ricllard,) the knight felt something  so soothing
to his feelings in learning that Edith had been no pairtner
to tile frauld ptractised on him, and so interesting to hlis
curiosity in thle scene which was about to take place, that.
instead of prosecuting hlis more prudent purpose of an
instant retreat, lie looked anxiously, on the contrary, for
some rent or crevice, by means of which lie might be
made eye as well as ear-witness to what was to go forward.
" Surely," said lie to himself, " the Queen, who hath
been pleased for an idle firolic to endanger my reputation,
and perhaps my life, cannot complain, ift' 1 avail n1yself of
the chance wllich fortune seems willing to afford me to
obtain knowledge of hler further intentions."
It seemed, in tle meanwhile, as if Edith were waiting
for the commands of the Queen, and as if the other were
reluctant to speak, for fear of being unable to command
her laughter, and that of her companions; for Sir Kenneth could only distinguish a sound as of suppressed
tittering and merriment.
" Your Majesty," said Edith, at last,' seems in a merry
mood, though, methinks, the hour of night prompts a
sleepy one.  I was well disposed bed-ward, when I had
your Majesty's -commands to attend you.' -
"I will not long delay yzu, cousin, fron. your repose,"
said the Queen; " though I fear you will sleep less soundly when I tell you your wager is lost."




TIHE TALISMAN.                     169' Nay, royal madam," said Edith, ",his, surely, is
dwellillg on a jest which hlas rather been worn out.  I
laid no wager, however it was your Majesty's pleasutre
to suppose, or to insist, that I did so."
"Nay, now, d(espite our p)ilgrimiage, Satan is strong
witll you, my gentle cousin, anpd plrompts thee to leasin.r
Can you deny tllhat you gaged your ruby ring against ny
golden bracelet, that yonder Knilght of the Libbard, or
how call you him, could not be seduced fiom his post?"
" Your Majesty is too great for me to gainsay yout,"
replied Edithl; " but these ladies can, if tlhey will, bear
mne witness, tllat it was your Highness wlvo lpro)osed suchl
a wager, and took the ring firomn my finger, even while I
was declaring that I did not think it maidenly to gage ally
thing onl suchl a subject."
"Nay, but, my Lady  Edith," said another voice.
" you must needs grant, untler your favour, that you ex
pressed yourself very confident of the valour of that same
kniglht of the Leopard."
" And if I did, minion," said Edith, angrily, " is that
a good reason why thou shouldst put in thiine wvord to
flatter her Majesty's humour? I spoke of that knight but
as all mern speak who have seen him in the field, and had
no more interest in defending than thou in detracting from
hiimn.  In a carnp, what can women speak of save soldiers
and deeds of arms?"
"' Tle noble Lady Edith," said a third voice, " hath
r:ever forgiven Calista and me, since we told your Majesty that she dropped two rose-buds in the chapel."
"If your Majesty,"  said Edith, in a tone which Sir
Kenneth could judge to be that of respectfiul remonstrance, " have no other commands for me than to hear
the gibes of your waiting-woren, I must crave your permission to withdraw."
"9Silence, Florise," said the Queen, " and let not our
indulgence lead you to forget the difference betwixt yourself atid tile kinswoman of England. — But you, my dear
cousin," she continued, resuming her tone of raillery
vOL, Ti'




170         TALES OF TI1H, CRUSADERs.' low can you, who are so good-natured, begrudltde ius
poor *wretchles a few minutes' laughing,  hllen iwe liave
[ad so many days devoted to weeping and gnashing oi
teeth?"
" Great be your mirth, royal lady," said Editll; " yet
would I be content not to smile for the rest of my life,
rather than    "
She stopped, apparently out of respect; but Sir Kennetll could hear that she was in mucli agitation.
" Forgive me," said Berengaria, a thougltless but
good-hulnoured princess of the House of Navarre," but whlat is thle great offence after all?  A  young
knight has been wiled hither-has stolen-or has been
stolen-Ilrom his post, whllich no one will disturb in his
absence, for the sake of a fair lady; for, to do your
chlamnpion justice, sweet one, tile wisdom of Ncctabanus
coulid conjure llim hither in no name but yours."
"; Gracious Heaven! your Majesty does not say so?"
said Editth, in a voice of alarm  quite difelrent firom the
agitation she had previously evinced,-" you canlnot say
so, consistently witll respect for your' own honour and for
mine, your husband's kinswoman!-Say you were jesting
with mne, my royal mistress, and forgive me that I could,
even for a moment, think it possible you could be in
earnest!"
" T'he Lady Edith," said the Queen, in a displeased
tone of voice, " regrets the ring we llave won of her.We will restore the pledge to you, gentle cousin, only you
must not griudge us in turn a little triumph over thle iwisdomn which has been so often spread over us, as a banner
over a host.";"A  triumph!" exclaimed Edith, indignantly; "a
triumph!-the triumph will be withl tie infidel, when he
hears that the Queen of England can make the reputation
of her husband's kinswoman the subject of a liglht firolic'.'
" You are angry, fair cousin, at losing your favourite
rinl," said ihe Queen-"' Comie, since you grudge to pay
your wager  we will renouLnce our rigllt; it was yoll




TtlE  TALISMAN.                     171
nalne and that pledge brought him nhither, and we care
not for the bait after the fish is caught."
"  lMadam,  replied  Edith, imlpatienlly, " you  know
well that yolur Grace could not wislh for aly'i;-.lg of niine
but it becomes instantly yTours.  B13ut I would i.'ve a bushel
of rubies ere ring or name of minle had been used to bring
a brave Ilan ilito a fault, and perhaps to disgrace and
puililShl mient."
" 0, it is for the safety of our true knight that wve fear!"
said the Queen.' YOll rate our power too low, filir
cousin, when you speak of a life b ing lost for a fiolic
of ours. -, Lady  Edithl, others have influence  on
the iron breasts of' warriors as wvell as you-the heart
-'ven of a lion is made of flesh, not (f stone; anld, 1-eliJeve
me, I hav e interest enougl with lRiclard'to save tlis knight,
in who\se, f'te LadyEdith is so deeply concerned, frothe peInalty of disobe)ying  is ro3yal colnlnands."' For tie love of the blessed cross, mlost royal lady,"
sai(l Edith-and Sir Kenneth, withl feelings whlli(c it were
hard to unravel, heard lier prostrate hlerself at thle Qieen's
-feet,-'" for the love of our blessed L(ady, and of every
lioly saint in the calendar, beware what you  (10o  YYou
know not king Riclhard-you lhave beein but slhortly wedded to him-your breath might as well combat the west
wvind when it is wildest, as your Awords persua(le nmly royal
kinsmnam  to pardon a military offence.  Oh1! fr God's
sake. dismiss tlhis gentleman, if indeed you Ihave lured hin
hither! I could almost be content to rest withl the slhamne
of having invited liim, did I know that lie was returned
agalinl whlere his duty calls him."
Arise, cousin, arise," said Queen Berengaria, " and
be assured all will be better than you thlink.   Rise, dear
Editl; I am sorry I have played my foolery wxitl a knigllit
in whom  you take sucl cheep interest-Nay, wring riot
ty  lllalds —-I  will believe thou carest not for bim -believe
any thing ratlier thian see thee look so wretcheodly mniserable —I tell thee, 1 will take the blame on myself writhi King
iRchalrd  in behalf of tl!y fair northern friiendl  tline acquaintance, I would say, since thou own'st him not as a




172          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
frieitd.-Nay, look not so reproacllfully-We will sen3
NeCtabanus to diislmiss  tlis knighit of' die Standard to hlis
post; and we ourselves wvill grace him  on some future
day, to make amends for his wild-goose cthase.  He is, I
warrant, but lying l)erdtcle in some neighbouring tent."
" By nmy crowvn of lilies, and my scepltre of a speciailly
good wvatelr-ieed," said Nectabanus, " your Majesty is
nilstalken-li-he is nearer at hland than you weot —le lieth
elisconced thlere belind tllat canvass Ial'tition."
" Andl withiin hearing of each word we have said!"
exclaimed the Queen, in her turn violenltly surl)1'ised and
agitated-" Out, mnonster of lolly and Inaligllitv!"
As she uttered these words, Nectabanus fled firom the
pavilion witlh a yell of such a nature, as leaves it still
cloubtful wlether Berengaria had ceelfined her reblule to
wvords, or added somte more emphatic expression of her
displeaIsure.
"1 SVWhat can now be done?" said the Queen to Edith,
in a wllisper of undisguised uineasiness.
1' That whichl  must," said Editlh, firmly.  " We tnust
see this gentleman, and l)lace ourseives in hlis mnercy."
So saying, she began hastily to undo a curtain,  whlich
at one place covered an entrance or communication.
" For Heaven's sake, fbobear-consider," said the
Qtleen, "my apartment-our dress-the hour-nmy   ionour "
But ere she could detail her remonstrances, the curtain
fell, and there was no division any longer betiwixt the
armed knigllt and the party of ladies.  Tile   armthll oJ
an eastern night occasioned the undress of Queen Berengaria and her houlsehold to be rather more simple and
unstuldied thlan their station, and the presence of a male
spectator of rank, required.  This the Queen remembered, and xVitll a loud shriek fled fiomn tlhe apartment
whlere Sir Kennethl was disclosed to view in a copl)artnle.it
of tlte amlple pavilion, now no longer separated  ricmr tI.hat
in wlhich thley stood.  Thle grief and agitation of the Lady
Edith, as well as the deep interest slhe felt in a lIasty ex-'lanation with the Scottishl kniglit, elrhlaps ccasicned




TIIE TALISMAN.                   173
her forg;etting that her locks were more dishevelled,,and
her person less heedfully covered, than was the wont of
high-born damsels in all age, which was not after all thle
most prudish or scrupulous period of tile ancient time.
A thin loose garment of pink-coloured silk made the principal part of her vestments, with oriental slippers, into
which she had hastily thrust her bare feet, and a scarf
hurriedly and loosely thrown about her shoulders.  Her
head had nlo other covering than the veil of rich and dishevelled locks falling round it on every side, that half'hid a countenance, which a mingled sense of modesty,
and of resentment, and other deep and agitating feelings,
had covered with crimso-n.
But althougllh Edith felt her situation with all that
delicacy which is her sex's greatest charm, it did not
seem that for a moment she placed her own bashfillness
in comparison witlh the duty, whichl, as she thought, she
owed to him, vwho had been led into error and danger oi
her account.  She drew, indeed, her scarf more closely
over her neck and bosom, and she hastily laid firom hler
hand a lamp, which shed too much lustre over lher figure;
but, while Sir Kenneth stood motionless on the same spot
in which he was first discovered, she rather stepped towards than retired fiom him, as she exclaimed, " Hasten
to your post, valiant knight!-you are deceived in being
trained hither-ask no questions."'" I need ask none," said the knight, sinking upon one
knee, with the reverential devotion of a saint at the altar,
and bending his eyes on the ground, lest his looks should
increase the lady's embarrasslment.
"' Have you heard all?" said Edith, impatiently-' Gracious saints! then wherefore wait you here, when
each minute thlat passes is loaded with dishonour!"
" I have heard that I am dishonoured, lady, and I have
heard it from you answered Kenneth.  Whiat reck I how
soon punishment follows? I have but one petitioll to you,
and then I seek, aniong the sabres of the ilfidels whether
dishonour may not be waslhed out wvith Iblood."
25  VotL. it




[' 4        TrAL'ES OF'TlIEt CRUSAT )It i.
" Do not so, neither," said the lady.  " Be I wvise -:tally not here-all ri;ay yet be wvell, if you will but use
despatch."'
"I wait but for your forgiveness," said the knight, still
kneeling, "' for my presumption in believing tlhat Inv poor
services coll(l hlave been required or valued by you."
I do forgive you-O, I have nothing to forgive!-1
hlave been tile means of in juring you-But 0, hegone!I will forgive-'l wvill valie.youl-that is, as I value every
brave crusad,. — ift noll will but begone!"
" Receive, first, thlis }recious yet fatal pledge," said
the knigllt, tendering tile ring to Edith, wh-lo now showed
gestures of imnpatience.
" 01h no, no," shle said, (leclining to receive it.  " Keep
it-lkeep it as a martk of my regard-rly regret, I would
say.  0 begone, if not fotr your own sake, for mine!"
Almost recoinpellsed for the lrs even of honour, which
hei voice had denolunced to him, by tle interest which
slhe seemed to testifi in his safety, Sir Kennetlh rose
fromn  lls knee, and, casting a momentary glance on Edith,
bowed low and seemied albo,t to withdraw.  At the same
iiistaiit, that mnaidlenly bashfuilness, whlich the energy of
Edith's ifeelings had till tlhen triulmplled over, became
conqlueior in its turn, andl she hastened firom  the apartment, extinguishing her lalmp as slle went, anr' leaving,
in Sir Kenneth's thougihts, both mental and natural gloom
behind her.
She must be obeyed, was the first distinct idea which
waked him from his reverie, and lie hastened to the place
by wthiclh l(- hald entered the pavilion.  To pass under
tile canvass in the manner lie had entered, required tirme
in'1 attention, and lhe made a readier aperture by slitting
tile canvass wall with hills poniard.   Whlen in the free air,
lie felt ratiler stupified and overpowered by a conflict
of sensations, than able to ascertain what was tle real
itlport of tile whole.  He was obliged to slp)ir hilmrself
to actionl, by recollecting that die commands of tie Lady
Edith lhad r( quired haste.  Fven tlhen, engr ged as lhe
wvas amongst tent-ropes and tealts lie was cc:npelled to




'TIfE'TI'IrtSMAx M. 
aiove with caution until he should regain the path or
ivenue, aside firoln which the dwarf had led him, in order
to escape the observation of the guards before the Queen'.
pavilion; and hie was obliged also to move slowly, and
with precaution, to avoid giving an alarim, either by falling
or by the clashing of his armour.  A thin cloud had obscured the moon, too, at the very instant of his leaving
the tent, and Sir Kenneth had to struggle with this inconvenience at a moment when the dizziness of his head,
and the fulness of his heart, scarce left him powers of
intelligence sufficient to direct his motions.
But at once sounds came uponr his ear, which instantly
recalled him  to the fill energy of his faculties.  These
proceeded from tile Mlount of Saint George.  He heard
first a single fierce, angry, and savage bark, which was
immediately followed by a yell of agony.  No deer ever
bounded with a wilder start at the voice of Roswal, than
did Sir Kenneth at what lie feared was the death-cry ot
that noble hound, from whorm  no ordinary injury could
[have extracted even the slightest acknowledgtnent of pain.
He surmounted the space which divided him  fiom the
avente, and, having attained it, began to run towards tile
mount, although loaded with his mail, faster than most
men could have accompanied him even if unarmed, relaxed not his pace for the steel) sides of the artificial
mnound, and in a few minutes stood on the platform upon
its summit.
The moon broke fbrth at this moment, and showed
him that the standard of England was vanished, that the
spear on which it had fioated lay broken on the ground,
and beside it was his faithful'Iound, apparently in the
Agollies of death.
796




116         TALES OF THE CRUSADEIgS.
CHAPTER X1V.
----— All my long arrear of honour lest,
Heaped up in youth, and hoarded up for age.
HIath honour's fountain then suck'd up the stream?
IIe hath-and hooting boys may barefoot pass,
And gather pebbles from the naked ford.
Don Sehas.ian.
AF'TER a torrent of afflicting sensations, by which ne
was at first almost stunned and confounded, Sir Kenneth's
first thought was to look for the authors of this violation
of the English banner; but in no direction cotud he see
traces of them.   His next, which to some persons, but
scarce to any who have made intimate acquaintances
among the canine race, may appear strange, was to examine the condition of his faithful Roswal, mortally
wounded, as it seemed, in discharging the duty which
his master had been seduced to abandon.  He caressed
the dying animal, who, faithful to the last, seemed to forget his own pain in the satisfaction he received from his
master's presence, and continued wagging his tail and
licking his hand, even while by low moanings he expressed that his agony was increased by the attempts which
Sir Kenneth Bmade to withdraw from the wound the fi'agment of the lance, or javelin, with which it had been
inflicted; then redoubled his feeble endearments, as if
fearing be had offended his master by showing a senise
of the pain to which his interference had subjected him.
There was something in the display of the dying crea
ture's attachment, which mixed as a bitter ingredient with
the sense of disgrace and desolation by which Sir Kenneth was oppressed.  His only friend seemed removed
from  him, just when he had incurred the contempt and
batred of all besides.   The knight's strength of mind




THE TALISMAN.                  177
gave way to a burst of agonized distress, and he groaned
and wept aloud.
While he tlhus indulged his grief, a clear and solemn
voice, close beside lim, pronounced these words in the
3onorous tone of the readers of the mosque, and in the
lingua Franca, mutually understood by Christians and
Saracens:"Adversity is like the period of tlhe former and of the
latter rain,-cold, comfortless, unfriendly to man and to
anilnal; yet fiom that season have tileir birth the flower
and tIhe fr'uit, the date, the rose, and the pomegranate."
Sir Kenneth of the Leopard turned towards the speaker, and beheld the Arabian physician, who, approachling
unheard, had seated himself a little behind him crosslegged, and uttered with gravity, yet not without a tone
of symlpathy, the moral sentences of' consolation with
which tlle Koran and its commentators supplied him; for,
in the East, wisdom is held to consist, less in a display of
the sage's own inventive talents, than in his ready memory,
and happy alpplication of and reference to'" that which
is written."
Ashamed at being surprised in a womanlike expression
of sorrow, Sir Kenneth dashed Iiis tears indignantly aside,
and again busied himself with his d(ying favoturite.
"The poet hath said," continued the Arab, without
noticing the knight's averted looks and sullen deportment
— " the ox for the field, and the camel for the desert.
Were not the hand of the leech fitter than that of the
soldier to cure wounds, though less able to inflict them?"
" This patient, Hakimn, is beyond thy help," said Sir
Kenneth; " and, besides, he is, by thy law, an unclean
animal."
" Where Allah hath deigned to bestow, life, and a sense
of pain and pleasure," said the physician, " it were sinful
pride should the sage, whom  lie has enliglltened, refuse
lo prolong existence, or assuage agony.   To the sage,
the cure of a miserable groom, of a poor dog, and of a
conquering monarch, are events of little distinction.  Let
me examine this wounded animal."




178          TALES'F TIlE CRUSADERH.
Sir Kenneth acceded in silence, and the pihysician il
sp)ected and handled Roswal's wound with as much cart
and attention as if lhe had been a human being.  tie then
took forth a case of instruments, and, by the judicious
and skilful application of pincers, witlldre.v froin  the
wounded shoulder the fragment of the weapon, and stopped witlh styptics and bandages the effusion of blood which
followed; the creature all the while suffering him patiently to perfcrm these kind offices, as if lie had been aware
of his kind intentions.
" The animal may be cured," said El Hakim, adldressing himself to Sir Kenneth, "if you will permit me
to carry him  to imy tent, and treat him  with thle care
wlhich the niobleness of his nature deserves.  For know,
that thy  servant Adonbec is no less skilfuil in the race
and pediogree, and distinctions of good dogs and of noble
steeds, than in the diseases which affect t!he h1uman race."
" Take him  with you," said the knigllt.  " I bestow
him  on you freely if' he recovers.  I oxve thee a rezward
for attendance on my squi're, and have nothling else to
pay it with.  For myself, I will never again wind bugle,
or halloo to hound."
The Arabian made no reply, but gave a signal with a
clapping of his hands, whicll was instantly answered by
the appearance of two black slaves.  He gave theml  his
orders in Arabic, received the answver, that " to hear
vas to obey," when, taking the animal in t!leir arms, they
removed him, without much resistance on hlis p)art; for
thougli his eyes turned to his master, lie was too Nweak to
struggle.
" Fare thee well, Roswal, then," said Sir Kenneth," fare thee well, my last and only friend  thou art too
noble a possession to be retained by one such as I miust
in futture call myself.-I would," hle said, as the slaves
retired, " tllhat, dying as lhe is, I could exchlange conditions witll that noble animal."
" It is written,' answeretl the Arabian, altho;gh the
exclamation had not beeii addressed to him, "that all
creatures are fm'- ioned for thle service of man; and the




THE TALISIA ANI.                179
mnnster of the earth speaketh folly when he vwo'lld exclhange, in his impatience, his hopes hlere and to come, foi
thle servile condition of an inferior being."'
A dog who (lies in discharging his duty," said the
knigllt, sternly, "is better than a man who survives the clesertion of it. Leave me, Hakim; tlhou hlast, on this side of
miracle, the most wonderful science which man ever possessed, but the wounds of the spirit are beyond thy power."'" Not if the patient xvill explain his calamity, and be
guided by the physician," said Adonbec El1 Hakim.
K" Know, theln," said Sir Kenneth, "' since thou art so
ilnportunate, that last niglit, the banner of England was
displayed fromn this mound-I was its appointed guardian
— morning is now breaking-there lies the broken banner-spear  the standard itself is lost-and 1 ere sit I a
living man."
"How!" said El Hakim, examining himl; "thy arrmour
is whole —there is no blood on thy weapons, and report
speaks thee one unlikely to return thus fiom fight.-Thou
hast been trained from thy post-ay, trained by the rosy
cheek and black eye of one of those houris, to whom ye
Nazarenes vow  rather such service as is due to Allah,
than such love as may lawfiully be rendered to forms of
clay like our own.  It has been thus assuredly; for so
lath man ever fallen, even since the days of Sultan
Adam."
"' And if it were so, physician," said  Sir Kenneth,
sullenly, " what remedy?"
"Knowledge is the parent of power," said El Hakim,
" as valour sup)plies strength. —Listen to me.  _Man is
not as a tree, bound to one spot of earth —nor is he
firamel to cling to one bare rock, like the scarce animated
shell-fish.  Thine own Christian writings command thee,
when persecuted in one city to flee to another; and we
Moslem also know, that Moihamm ied, tile Prophet of Allali, driven otrtil friom thle holy city of MIecca, found his
refilge and his helplnates at MIeclina."
" And what does tlQis concern me?" said the Scot.




i0o         T'TALES OF I HE CRUSADERS.
"1 Much," answered the physician.   " Even tile s,,ge
dlies the tempest winch lie cannot control.   Use thy
speed, therefore, and fy from tile vengeance of Richard
to the shadow of Saladin's victorious banner."
" I might indeed hide my dislionour," said  Sir Kenneth, ironically, " in a camp of infidel heathens, where
the very phrase is unknown. —But had I not better partake more fully in their reproach?  Does not thy advice
stretch so far as to recommend me to take the turbanl?
Methinks I want but apostacy to consurnmate my infamy."
" Blaspheime not, Nazarene," said thle physician, stern1v; " Saladin makes no converts to the law of thle
Prophet, save those on whom its precepts shall work conviction.  Open thine eyes to the light, and the great Soldan, whos. liberality is as boundless as his power, may
bestow on thee a kingdom; remain blinded if thou wilt,
and, being one whose second life is doomed to misery,
Saladin will yet, for this span of present time, make thee
rich and happy.  But fear not that thy brows shall be
bound with the turban, save at thine own firee choice."
"  My choice were rather," said the knight, " that my
writhen features should blacken, as they are like to do,
in this evening's setting sun."
" Yet thou art not wise, Nazarene," said E1 Hakim,
"to reject this fair offer; for I have power with Saladin,
and can raise thee hligh in his grace.  Look you, my soil
-this crusade, as you call your wild enterprize, is like
a large dromond* parting asunder in the waves.  Thou
thyself hast borne terms of truce firom  the Kings and
Princes whose force is here assembled, to the mighlty
Soldan, and knew'st not, percihance, the full tenor of
thine onwn errand."
"I knew not, and I care not," said the Knight, impatiently; " what avails it to me that I have bclen of late
thie envoy of princes, when, ere night, I shall be a gibbetted and dishonoured corse?"
T'rhe largest sort of vessels Lhel known, were termed dromonds, or drome
aaries.




THE  TAfL aIS. iN.                  r 8'i
"Nay, I speak that it may not be so with thee," said
lie physician.   "' Saladin is courted on all sides; the
combined Princes of this league formed against him, have
made such  proposals of composition and peace, as, inI
other circumstances, it might have become his hlonour to
have granted to them.  Others have made private offers
(n their own separate account, to disjoin  their forces
from the camp of the Kings of Frangistan, and even to
lend their arms to the defence of the standard of the
Prophet. But Saladin will not be served by such treacherous and interested defection.  The King of kings will
treat only with the Lion King.   Saladin will hold treaty
with none but the Melech Ric, and with him he will treat
like a prince, or fight like a champion.  To  Richard he
will yield such conditions of his free liberality, as the
swords of all Europe could never compel from him by
force or terror.   He will permit a free pilgrimage to
Jerusalem, and all the places where the Nazarenes list to
worship; nay, he will so far share even his empire with
his brother Richard, that he will allow Christian garrisons
in the six strongest cities of Palestine, and one in Jerusalem itself. and suffer them  to be under the immediate
command of the officers of Richard, who, he consents,
shall bear the name of King Guardian of Jerusalem.  Yet
farther, strange and incredible as you may think it, know,
Sir Knight-for to your honour I can commit even that
almost incredible secret-know  that Saladin  will put a
sacred seal on' this happy union  betwixt the bravest and
noblest of Frangistan and Asia, by raising to the rank
of his royal spouse a Christian  damsel, allied in blood
to King Richard, and  known by the name of the Lady
Edith of Plantagenet."*
~ This may appear so extraordinary and improbable a proposition, that it is
necessary to say such a one was actually made. The historians, however, sub,
stitute thlt widowed Queen of Naples, sister of Richard, for the bride, and
Saladin's blrothler for the bridetroom. Thev appear to have been ignorant
of the existence -f Edith of Pl'antagenet.-See MILL'S Ifistory of the Cru
s5zle', v ol  I. p. 61.
VOl.,. I




I 82        TALES OF TI-E CRUSADEtRSe
"la: —say:st tlou?" exclaimed Sir Kenneth, nl c
listening with indifference and apatliy to the ptiecedin2
part of El Halkim's speech, was touc.h ed by this last coninllllnication, as the thrill of a nerve unexpectedly jarred,
will awaken the sensation  of agony, even in the torpor
of palsy.  Then moderating his tone, by dint of mllch
effort, lie restrained his indignation, and veiling it un*der
the appearance of contemptuous doubt, lie prosecuted
the conversation, in order to get as much kniowledsge as
possible of the plot, as lie deemed it, against the 1honour
and lalppiness of hler, whom  lie loved not the less that
his passion had ruined apparently his fortunes, at once,
and his honour.-" And what Christian," he said, with
tolerable calmness, " would sanction a  union so unnatural, as that of a Christian maiden with an unbelieving
Saracen?". 
"Thou art but an ignorant, bigotted Nazarene," said
the  Hakim,' Seest thllou  not how  thle Nlahonimedan
princes daily interlmalrry witl the noble Nazarene maidens
in Spain, withlout scandal eitller to Mloor or Christian?
And the noble Soldan will, in his fill confidence in the
blood of Richard, permliit the Englislih maid the freedom
wh-lic  yolur Frankishl manners have assigned to women.
He will allow hler the free exercise of her religion,seeing tlhat, in very truth, it signifies but little to whlich
faith females are addicted,-and lie will assign her such!
place and rank over all thle women of lhis zenana, that she
shall be in every respect his sole and absolute queen."
"Whlat!" said Sir Kenneth, " clalest tlhou tliink, losletl, that Riclard would give his kinswoman —a highorn  and virtuous )priiicess-to be at best the foremost.concubine in the hlaram of a misbeliever   Know, Hakim,
tile mleanest friee Christian noble would scorn, on his chilld'
beltlf; sllchl spllendid ignominy."
Tllou errest," said tlle Hlakim; " Pliliip of Franc(,
ani.l Henry of Cllallmagne, and otliers of I{icllard's principal1 allies, have lleard tlle phrop)osal  xitllout starting,.and
hlave ironmised, as far as they mnay, to forward an (allin;(le,
thlat nmay end tlhese wasteful wars;s:  and th!e wise aich




'T'HE TALIS-MAN.                   183
priest' Tyre blathll undertaken  to break the pro)osal to
Ricl alidt, not doubting that lie shall be able to briing thle
plan to good issue.  Thle Soldan's wisd(om lath as yet
kept his proposition secret fiomn otlhers, such  as lie ol
Montserrat, and tile Master of' tfie Templars, because lihe
knows they seek to thrive by Richard's death  or disgrace, not by blis life or hlonoIur.-t Up, therefore, Sij
Kniglht, and to horse.  I will give thee a scroll which
shlall advance thlee highly with the Soldan; and deem not
that you  are leaving your country, oor her cause, or her
religion, since the interest of tile two monarchs will spee(lily be the same.  To Saladin tlhy counsel will be most
acceptable, since thou canst make him aware of mucl:
concerning tile marriafges of the Christians, tle treatment of their wives, and other points of their laws and
usages, whichl, in the course of such treaty, it mucil concerns hlimn thlat lie should know.  The righlt hand of the
Soldani gras)ps the treasures of thle East, and it is the fountain of generosity.  Or, if thlou desirest it, Saladin, when
allied withl Elngland, can have but little difficulty to obtain
from  RTicllard not only thly plardon and restoratiun to
favoir, Ilt an lionourable commlandl in the tr.ol)s which
may be left of' the king of En'gllnd's host, to maintain
their joint governmient in Palestine.  Up, then, and mount
-tllere lies a  lainz pathi before thlee."'"H akiln,' said the Scottisll knilit,  " thou art a man
of peace-also, tihoul lhast saved thle life of Ricllard of
EnIgland —and, mor eover, of my own poor esquire, S tranchan.  I lhave, thlerefore, hleard to an end a matter, whichl
being prol)oinded by anotherl Mloslem than tlhyself;  I woul(i
have cut short iwith a blow  of' my dagger   Hakimi, in
returnl for thy kindness, I aclvise thlee to see that thle Saracen, who shlll] propose to Richarll   a:union betwixt thle
blood of Planrageinet and tllat of hi's accursed iace, do
put on a llelmlet whlichl is capable to endsrue sllcl a blow
of a battle-axe as tiat   hichl strtluck (lown tlhe gtate of
Acre.  Ceites, lie will be otherwise placed Ieyond the
reach even of thy skill."




; 84       TAIIES OF T'HEr, CiUSADEIRIS.
"Thou art, then wilfully determined not to fly to the
Saracen host?" said the physician —" Yet remember
thou stayest to certain destruction; and the writings of
thy law, as well as ours, prohibit man from breaking into
tile tabernacle of  his own life."
" God forbid!" replied the Scot, crossing himself:' but we are also forbidden to avoid the punishment
vwhich our crimes have deserved; and since so poor are,I-y thoughts of fidelity, Hakirn, it grudges me that I have
bestowed my good hound on thee, for should he live, he
%will have a master ignorant of' his value."
"A gift that is begrudged is already recalled," said
El Hakim, " only we physicians are sworn not to send
away a patient uncured.  If the dog recover, he is once
more yours."; Go to, Hakim," answered Sir Kenneth; "men speak
not of hawk and hound when there is but an hour of
day-breaking betiwixt thein and death.  Leave me to recollect my sins, arid reconcile myself to Heaven."
" I leave thee in thine obstinacy," said the )physician;
" the mist hides the precipice firom those who are doomed
to fall over it."
He withdrew slowly, turning from time to time his head,
as if to observe whether the devoted knight might not
recall him either by word or signal.  At last his turbaned
figure was lost among the labyrinth of tents which lay extended beneath, whitening in the pale light of the dawning, before which the moonbeam  had now faded away.
But although the physician Adonbec's words had not
made tllat impression upon Kenneth wlhich the sage desired, they had inspired the Scot with a motive for desiring,ife, whih, dishonoured as he conceived himself to be
he was before willing to part fromn as from a sullied vestment no longer becoming his wear.  Much that had
passed betwixt himself and the hermit, besides what he
lhad observed between the auchorite and Sheerkohf, (or
1lderim,) he now recalled to recollection, and tended to
conuirm what the [akirn liad told himn of the seciret article
of thle treaty.




THE  TAI, SM/N.                          [85,;' The reverend impostor!" he exclaimed to himself;' tile  hoary  hypocrite    He  sp)oke  of the  unbelieving
ausband converted  by the believing wife —and  what do
I know but that the tl'raitor exhibited to the Saracen, accursed of God, the beauties of Edith Plantagenet, that
tile  hound  mighlt judge  it' the  princely Christian  lady
were fit to be adcmitted  into thle harain of a misbeliever?
If I had yonder infidel Ilderini, or whatsoever lie is called,
again in thle  gripe, with which I once  held  him  fast as
ver hlound  held  hare, never again  should  he at least
comne on errand disgraceful to the lhonour of christian King,
or noble and virtuous maiden.   But I-my hours are fast
dwvindling into minutes — yet while I have life and breath,
something must ble done, and speedily."
HIe paused  for a few  minutes, threw  from   him   his
lelmet, then  strode down  the hill, and took the  road to
K ing Richard's pavilion.
CHAPTER XV.
The feather'd songster? ch.anticleer,
Had wound his btugle-horn,
Aind told the early v illager
Thlie coming of the morn.
King Edward saw tle rucldy streaks
Of ligllht eclipse the gray,
Anld hlear(d tite rav n's croaking throat
Proclaim the fated day.
" Th'lou'rt right." he said, " for by the God,
That sits eniithron'd on high,
Charles law dsill, and his fellows twain,
Th'lis day shall surely (lie."
CHATTEI:RTON.
ON the evening  on  whiclh Sir Kenneth  assurned h:_
1cst, Ricl-ard, after the stormy event which dlisturbed iti
tianquIllity, had retired to  rest in the plenitude of confiVOLT. TI.




186         TALS OF THE  CRUSADERS.
dence inspired by his unbounded courage, and thle siuperiority which lhe had displayed in carrying the point hle
-amued at in presence of the whole Ch'lristian host, and its
leaders, manly of whom, lie was aware, regarded in their
secret souls the disgrace of the Austrian Duke as a triuniph over themselves; so that his pride felt gratified,
that in prostrating one  enemy  he  had  mortified  an
nun tldred.
Another monarch would have doubled lils guards on
the evening after such a scene, and kept at least a part
of his troops under arms.  But Cceur de Lion dismissed,
upon the occasion, even his ordinary watch, and assigned
to his soldiers a donative of wvine to celebrate his recovery,
and to drink to tile Banner of Saint George; and hl:s
qutarter of the camp  would have assumed a character
totally  devoid of vigilance and military preparation, b)ta;
ithat Sir Thomas de Vaux, the Earl of Salisbury, and other
nobles, took precautions to preserve order and discipline
among the revellers.
The plhysician attended the King from his retiring to
bed till midnight was past, and twice admninistere   ed icine to him during that p)eriod, always previously observing the quarter of heaven occupied by the full moon,
whose influences lhe declared to be most sovereign,  or
most baleful to tle eflect of his clrugs.  It was three
hours after midnight ere El Hakim witlldrew  from  the
royal tent, to one wvlichl had been l)itchted fior himself
and his retinue.  In his way tlhitller, he visited the tent
of Sir Kenneth of the Leopard, in order to see the condition of his first patient in the clhristian camp, old Strauchan, as the knigllt's esquire was named.  Inquiring there
for Sir Kenneth himself, El Hakimn learned on what duty
lie was emlnloyed, and probably this information led him
to Saint George's Motlnt, where lie foundl him whomn lhe
souhllt in the disastrous circumstances alluded to in the
last chapter.
It was about the hour of sunrise, vlwhen a slow, armed
troj'kd was hleard approaching the King's pavilion; and
ere de Vallx, who slumbered beside hlis master's bed as




THE TALISMAN.                   18,
lightly) as ever sleep sat upon the eyes of a watch-dog,
had tilme to do more than arise and say, " Who comes?"
the Knight of' tile Leopard entered the teut, with a deep
and devoted gloom  seated upon his manly features.
" Whence this bold intrusion, Sir Knight?" said De
Vaux, sternly, yet in a tone which respected his master's
slumbers.
"Hold! De VauLx," said Richard, awaking on the
nstant; " Sir Kenneth cometh like a good soldier to
ender an account of his gua rd-to such tile General's
tent is ever accessible."-Then rising from his sllubering posture, ald leaning on -his elbows he fixed his large
bright eye upon the warrior-" Speak, Sir Scot, tllou
conmest to tell me of a vigilant, safe, and honourable
watcllh dost thou not?  Thle rustling of the folds of the
Banner of England were enough to guard it, even without the body oL' such a knight as men hold thee."
" As men will hold me no more," said Sir Kenneth —
M"  y watch hath neither been vigilant, safe, nor honoura!le.  The 13anner of England has been carried off."
" And thou alive to tell it?" said Richard, in a tone
of derisive incredulity.- " Away, it cannot be.  There
is not even a scr atch on thy face.  Why dost thou stand
thus mute? Speak the truti —it is ill jesting with a King
-yet I will forgaive thee if thou hast lied."
" Lied! Sir King!" returned the unfortunate knight,
with fierce emphasis, and one glance of fire fiom his eye,
bright and transient as the flash friom the cold and stony
flint.  " But this also must be endured. — 1 have spoken
the truth."
"By God, and by Saint George!" said the King,
bursting into fury, which, however, he instantly checked
— " De Vaux, go view the spot-This fever has disturbed his blrain-'This cannot be-The man's courage is
proof —It cannot be! Go speedily —or send, if thou
wilt not go."
The King was interrupted by Sir Henry Neville, lwhc
camle, breathless, to say that the banner was gone, and(
t}e knight who guarded it overpowered, and most proba




rS8         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.;lty murdered, as there was a pool of blood where the
banner-speai' lay shivered.
4"But whom do I see here?" said Neville, his eye
suddenly resting upon Sir Kenneth.
"A traitor," said the King, starting to his feet, and
seizing the curtal-axe, which was ever near his bed-" a
traitor! whom thou shalt see die a traitor's death."And lhe drew back the weapon as in act to strike.
Colourless, but firm as a marble statue, the Scot stood
b)efore him, with his bare head uncovered by any protection, his eyes cast down to the earth, his lips scarcely
moving, yet muttering probably in prayer.  Opposite to
lhim, and within the due reach for a blow, stood King
Richard, his large person wrapt in the folds of his camescia, or ample gown of linen, except where the violence
of his action had flung the covering from his right arm,
shoulder, and a part of his breast, leaving to view a specinen of a firame which imighlt have merited his Saxon predecessor's epitlhet of Ironside.  He stood for an instant,
prompt to strike-then sinking the head of the weapon
towaids the ground, lie exclaimed, 1' But there was blood,
Neville-there was blood upon the place. Hark thee, Sir
Scot-brave thou wert once, for I have seen thee fightSay thou hast slain two of the thieves in defence of the
Standard-say but one-say tlhou hast struck but a good
blow in our behalf, and get thee out of the camp with thy
life and thy infamy!"
" You have called me liar, my Lord King," replied
Kenneth, firmly; " and therein, at least, you have done
me wrong-Know, thlat there was no blood shed in defence of the Standard save that of a poor hound, which,
niore faithful than his master, defended the charge which
h1e deserted."
Now, by Saint George!" said Richlard, again heaving tip his arm-But De Vaiux threw  himself between
the King and the object of his vengeance, and spoke
with the blunt truth of his character, "  vIy  liege, this
rlust not be-liere, nor by your own hand.  It is enough
of f.lly for one night and day, to have intrusted youw




THE TALISMAN.                   189
banner to a Scot-said I not they were evei fair and.false?"I
"Thou didst, De Vaux; thou wast right, and I confess it," said Richard.  " I should have known him
better-I should have remembered how the fox William
deceived me touching this crusade."
" My lord," said Sir Kenneth; " William of Scotland
never deceived, but circumstances prevented his bringing
his forces."
"Peace, shameless!" said the king; "thou sulliest
the name of a prince, even by speaking it.-And yet, De
Vaux, it is strange," he added, " to see the bearing of the
man. Coward or traitor he must be, yet he abode the blow
of Richard Plantagenet, as our arm had been raised to lay
knighthood on his shoulder.  Had he shown the slightest
sign of fear-had but a joint trembled, or an eyelid quivered, I had shattered his head like a crystal goblet. But I
cannot strike where there is neither fear nor resistance."
There was a pause.
"My lord," said Kenneth" Ha!" replied Richard, interrupting him, " hast thou
found thy speech?  Ask grace from  Heaven, but none
from me, for England is dishonoured through thy fault;
and wert thou mine own and only brother, there is no
pardon for thy fault."
" I speak not to demand grace of mortal man," said
the Scot; "it is in your Grace's pleasure to give or
refuse me time for Christian shrift-if man denies it, may
God grant me the absolution which I would otherwise
ask of his Church' But whether I die on the instant, or
half an hour hence, I equally beseech your Grace for one
noinent's opportunlity to speak that to your royal person,
which highly concerns your fame as a Christian King."
Say on," said the King, making no doubt that ht was
about to hear some confession concerning the los; of the
Banner.: What I have to speak," said Sir Kenneth, " tom.ches
the royalty of England, and must be said to no ears bui
th 3own.''w..




190         TtALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
" Begone with yourselves, sirs," said the Kil g to Neville and De Vaux.
The first obeyed, but the latter would not stir firom the
King's presence.'If you said I was in the right," replied De Vaux
to his sovereign,'  1 will be treated as one should be who
hath been found to be right-mthat is, I will have my own
will.  I leave you not with tlhis false Scot."
-Hov, De Vaux,:' said Richard, angrily, and stamping slightl), " darest thou not venture our Derson with
one traitor?"
" It is in vain you frown and stamp, my lord," said De
Vaux; " I venture not a sick man with a sound one, a
naked man with one armed in proof."
"' It mnatters not," said the Scottish knight, " I seek
no excuse to put off time —1 will speak in presence of
tle Lord of Gilsland.  He is good lord and true."
" But half an hour since,' said De Vaux, w xith a groan,
implying a mixture of sorrow and vexation, " and I had
said as much for thee!"
" There iq treason around you, King of England,"
continued Sir Kenneth.
" It may well be as thou say'st," replied Richard, " I
have a pregnant example."
" Treason that will injure thee more deeply than the
loss of an hundred banners in a pitched field.  Thlethe"-Sir Kenneth hesitated, and at length continued, in
a lower tone, " The Lady Edith-    "
a" -a!" said the King, drawing himself suddenly into
a state of haughty attention, and fixifng his eye firmly on
the supposed criminal; " Whllat of her?-what of her?
-what has she to do -0with this matter?"
M" Ay lord," said tl:e Scot, " there is a schelme on foot
to disgrace your royal linelge, by bestowing the hand of
the Ladv Ekdith on the Slracen Soldan, antl thereby to
purchase a peace most disllonourable to Christendom, by
an alliance most shameful to England."
This communication had precisely the contrary effect
from that which Sir Kenneth expected.  Ri!chard Plan



'THE TALISMAN.                   191
tagenet was one of those, who, in lago's words, would not
serve God because it was the devil who bade him; advice or information often affected him less according to
its real ilmport, than through the tinge which it took from
the supposed character and views of those by whom  it
was cornmunicated.  Unfortunately, the mention of his
relative's nanle renewed his recollection of what he had
considered as extreme presuinption in the Knight of the
Leopard, even when he stood high in the rolls of chivalry, but which, in his present condition, appeared an insult
sufficieiit to drive the fiery monarch into a frenzy of
passion.' Silence," he said, " infamous and audacious!  By
Heaven, I will have thy tongue torn out with hot pincers,
for mentioning the very name of a noble Christian danisel!
Know, degenerate traitor, that I was already aware to
what hleight thou hadst dared to raise tlhine eyes, and
endured it, though it were insolence even when thou hadst
cheated us-for thou art all a deceit-into holding thee as
of some name and fame.  But now, with lips blistered
with the. confession of thine own, dishonour-that thou
shouldst now dare to name our noble kinswoman as one
in whose fate thou lhast part or interest! What is it to
thee if she marry Saracen or Christian?-what is it to
thee, if in a camp where princes turn cowards by day,
and robbers by night-where brave knights turn to paltry
deserters and traitors-what is it, I say, to tlhee, or any
nne if I should please to ally myself to truth, and to valour, in the person of Saladin?"
" Little to me, indeed, to wllom all the world will soon
be as nothing," answered Sir Kenneth, boldly; " but
were I now stretched on the rack, I would tell thee, that
what I have said is nuchll to thine own conscience'and
thine own fame.  I tell thee, Sir King, that if thou (lost
out in thought entertain the purpose of wedding thy kins
woman, the Lady Edithl      "
" Name her not-and for an instant think not of her,"
said the King, again straining the curtal-axe in his gripe1




192        T AILES OF TIlE CRUSADEIIly.1S
ontil the muscles started above his brawny arm, like
cordage formed by the ivy around the limb of an oak.'" Not name-not think of her!" answered Sir Kenneth, his spirits, stunned as they were by self-depression,
beginning to recover their elasticity from this species ol
controversy,-" Now, by the Cross, on which I place my
hlope, her name shall be the last word in my mouth, her
image the last thought in my mind! Try thy boasted
strength on this bare brow, and see if thou canst prevent
my purpose."
"' He will drive me mad!"-said Richard, whc in his
despite, was once more staggered in his purpose by the
dauntless determination of the criminal.
Ere Thomas of Gilsland could reply, some bustle was
heard without, and the arrival of the Queen was announced from the outer part of the pavilion.
" Detain her-detain her, Neville," said the King;
" this is no sight for women-Fie, that 1 have suffered
such a paltry traitor to chafe me thus — Away with him,
De Vaux," he whispered, " through the back-entrance
of our tent-coop him up close, and answer for his safe
custody with your life.-And hark ye-he is presently to
die-let him have a ghostly father —we would not kill
soul and body.-And stay-hark thee-we will not have
lim dishonoured-he shall die knight-like, in his belt and
spurs; for if his treachery be as black as hell, his boldness may match that of the devil himself."
De Vaux, right glad, if the truth may be guessed, that
the scene ended without Richard's descending to the unkingly act of himself slaying an unresisting prisoner,
made haste to remove Sir Kenneth by a private issue to
a separate tent. where he was disarmed and put in fetters
for security.  De Vaux looked on with a steady and melancholy attention, while the provost's officers, to whom
Sir Kenneth was now committed, took these severe precautions.
When they were ended, he said solemnly tc the unhappy criminal-" It is King Richard's pleasbre that
you die undegraded-without mutilation of your body




THE TALISMAN.                     I )2:r shame to your arms-and that your hIead be severed
friom the trunlk by the sword of the execlutioner.."
"It is kind," said the kniglht, in a low and rather submissive tone of voice, as one who received an unexpected
favour; "my family will not then hear the worst of the
tale-Oh, rimy father-.my fathller!"
This muttered invocation did not escaple the blunt iut
kindly-natured Englishman, and he brushed the back of
his large hand over his rough features, ere lie could proceed.
"It is Richard of' England's farther pleasure," hIe said
at length, " that you have speech with a holy man, and I
have met on the passage hither with a Carmelite fiiar,
who may fit you for your passage.  He waits withlout, un1til
you are in a frame of mind to receive lhim."
" Let it be instantly," said the knight.  "ln this also
Richard is kind.  I cannot be more fit to see the good
father at any time than now; for life and I hllave taken
farewell, as two travellers who have arrived at the crossway, where their roads separate."
" It is well," said De VCaux, slovwly and solemnly'
for it irks me solnewhlat to say that which sums my
message.  It is King Richard's pleasure that you prepare
for instant death."' God's pleasure and the King's be done,"' replied the
knight, patiently.  " I neither contest the justice of the
sentence, nor desire delay of the execution."
De Vaux began to leave the tent, but very slowlypaused at the door, and looked back at the Scol, firom
whose aspect thloughts of the world seemed banished, as
if lie was composing himself into deep devotion.  The
feielings of the stout Enliish baron were in general none
of the most acute, and yet, on the present occasion, hlis
sympathy overpowered hinm- in an unusual manner.  He
came hastily back to the bundle of reeds on which the
captive lay, took one of' his fettered hands, and said, with
as much softness as his rough voice was capable of expressing, " Sir Kenneth, thou art yet young-thou hlasi
VOL. 1I.




194        TTALLES OF T'HLE CIRUSADERS.
a fatner.  My Ralph, whom I left training his little gallo.
way-na, on tlde banks of the Irthling, may one day attain ttfv
years-and, but for last nigilt, wouldl  to Godl 1 saw hiE
youth lbear such proilise as thine.-Can nothing be said
or done in tlly bellhalf?"
"Nothing," was the melancholy answer.  " I hav:
deserted l-y3r charge-thle Baiier intrusted to me is lostWhllen the headsmnan and block are prepared, the head
andt trlunk are ready to part company."
" Nay, then, God have mercy!" said De Vaux; " yet
would 1 rathler than my best lorse I hlad taken that watch
myself.  There is mystery in it, young lman, as a plain
lnan may descry, thoughl lhe cannot see througlh it.Cowvardice? pshaw!  No coward ever fought as I have
seen thee do.-Treachery    I I cannot think traitors die
in their treason so calmly.  Thou lhast been trained froin
thy post by some deep) guile-soine well-devised stratagem- the cry of soine distressed maiden has cauglht thine
ear, or the laughlful look of some merry one has taken
tihine eye.   Never blush for it, we llave all been led
asidte by such gear.  Come, 1 pray thee, mlake a clean
conscience of it to me, instead of the priest —Ricliard is
merciftil when Ihis mood is abated.  Hast thou nothing
to intrust to me?"
Tlhe unforttunate knighlit turned his face from the kind
warrior, and answered —" NOTHNG C."
An1d De Vaux, wlho had exhlausted his topics of persuasion, arose and left the tent, wvith folded arms, and
in melancholy deeper than lie thoughlt thle occasion merited-everl angry  witll llimself, to find that so silmple a
matter as the death of a Scottish man could affect him
so nearly.
" Yet," as lhe said to himself, " though the rough-footed
knaves be oulr enemies in Cumberland, in Palestine cne
ailmost conside-s them as brethren."




IrT}. 1T,4 1, T }9 M i,
CHAPTER XVI'Tis not her sense-for sure, ill that
li!ere's  iothliig more tllan common;
And all her Nwit is only chat,
Like any other woman.
THE high-born Berengria, daughlter of Sanchez, King
of Navarre, and the Queen-Consort of tlle heroic Richard,
ivas accounlted one of tlle most beautifiul womlllen of the
period.  Her form was slight, though exquisitely imoulded.  She was graced with a comi)lexion not common in
her country, a profusion of filir hair, and features so extremely juvenile, as to make her look  several years
younger than she ireally was, thoughl in reality she was not
above one and twenty.  Perhaps it was under the consciousnless of this extremlely juvenile appearance, that she
daffected, or at least practised a little childish petulance,
and wilfulness of mnanner, not unbefitting, she niglht suppose, a youthfiul bride, whose rank and age gave her a
rilght to have her fantasies indulged and attended to.
Slhe was by nature l)erlectly good humnoured, and if her
due share of admiration anld lhomage (in her opinion a
very large one) was duly resigned to hler, no one.could
possess better telnl)er, or a m;ore friendly disposition; but
tlhen, like all despots, thle more power that was voluntarily
yielded to her, tile more she desired to extent lier sway.
Sometinmes, even when all hler ambition was gratified, she
chose to be a little out of lhealth, and a little out of spirits;
and physicians llad to toil their wits to invent names
for illmaginary maladies, while her ladies racked their imagination for new games, new head-gear, and new courtscandal, to pass awa)y those unpleasant hours, during
whlich their own situation was scarce to be greatly envied.'[!eir most fr'eqlea.nt resour!.,e forl diver;'; n  this imalady




!~ )          nTALES OF TI1E  CR1USADERS.
was some trick, or piece of mischief, practised upon each.ther; and the good queen, in the buoyancy of her,revlving spirits, was, to spealk truth, rather too indifferent
whether the frolics thus practised were entirely befitting
her own dignity, or whether the pain which those suffered
upon whom they were inflicted, was not beyond the proportion of pleasure which she herself derived from them.
She was confident in her husband's favour, in her high
rank, and in her suipposed power to make good whatevel
such pranks might cost others.  In a word, she gamboled with the fieedom  of a young lioness, who is unconscious of the weight of her own paws when laid on those
whom she sports with.
Th'ie Queen Berengaria loved her husband passionately, but she feared the loftiness and roughness of his character, and as she felt herself not to be his match in intellect, was not much pleased'to see that lie would often
talk with Edith Plantagenet in preference to 1hersell;, simply because he found more amusement in her conversation, a more compreliensive understanding, and a more
noble cast of thoughts and sentiments than his beautiful
consort exhibited.  IBerengaria did not hate Edith on this
account, far less meditate her any harm; for, allowing for
some selfishness, her character was, on the whole, innocent and generous.  But the ladies of lier train, sharpsighted in such matters, had for some time discovered,
that a poignant jest at the expense of the Lady Edith, was
a specific for relieving her Grace of England's low spirits,
and the discovery saved their imagination much toil.
There was something ungenerous in this, because the
Lady Edith was understood to be  an  orphan; and
though she was called Plantagenet, and the fair Maid oi
Anjou, and admitted by Richard to certain privileges only
granted to the royal family, and held her place in the circle accordingly, yet fiew kneW, and none acquainted with
the Court of England ventured to ask, in whlat exact degree of relationship she stood to Coeur de Lion.  She
had come with Eleanor, the celebrated' Queen-AMother of
Enla.nd, a!nd joined lichlrd  at Messina, as. O.le of the




THE, TALISMAN.                 197.adies destined to attend on Berengaria, whose nuptials
then approached.  Richard treated his kinswoman with
much respectful observance, and the Queen made her her
most constant attendant, and, even in despite of the petty
jealousy which we have observed, treated her, generally,
with suitable respect.
The ladies of the household had, for a long time, no
farther advantage over Edith, than might be afforded by
an opportunity of censuring a less artfully disposed head
attire, or an unbecoming robe; for the lady was judged
to be inferior in these mysteries.  The silent devotion of
the Scottish Knight did not, indeed, pass unnoticed; his
liveries, his cognizances, his feats of arms, his mottoes
and devices, were nearly watched, and occasionally made
the subject of a passing jest.  But then came the pilgrimage of the Queen and her ladies to Engaddi, a journey which the Queen had undertaken under a vow for the
recovery of her husband's health, and which she had been
encouraged to carry into effect by the Archbishop of
Tyre for a political purpose.  It was then, and in the
chapel at that holy place, connected from above with a
Carmelite nunnery, from beneath with the cell of the
anchorite, that one of the Queen's attendants remarked
that secret sign of intelligence which Edith had made
to her lover, and failed not instantly to communicate it to
her Majesty.  The Queen returned firom her pilgrimage
enriched with this admirable recipe against dulness or
ennui, and her train was at the same time augmented by
a present of two wretched dwarfs from  the dethroned
Queen of Jerusalem, as deformed and as crazy, (the excellence of that unhappy species,) as any Queen could
have desired. One of Berengaria's idle amusements had
been to try the effect of the sudden appearance of such
ghastly and fantastic forms on the nerves of the Knight
when left alone in the chapel; but the jest had been losl
by the composure of the Scot, and the interference of the
anchorite. She had now tried another, of which the conIsequences promised to I - more serious.
2   (6  X T- X.




198         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
The ladies agail met after Sir Kenneth had retired
firom the tent; and the Queen, at first little moved by
Edith's angry expostulations, only replied to her by ulpbraiding her prudery, and by indulging her wit at the
expense of the garb, nation, and, above all, the poverty,
of the Knight of the l,eopard, in whichl she displayed a
good deal of playful malice, mingled witlh some Ilhmour,
until Edith was compelled to carry her anxiety to her
separate apartment.  But when, in the morning, a femiale,
whom  Edith had  intrusted to makle inquiry, brought
word that the Standard was missing, and its champion
vanished, she burst into the Queen's apartment and iniplored her to rise and proceed to the King's tent without
delay, and use her powerful mediation to prevent the evil
consequences of her jest.
The Queen, firightened in her turn, cast, as is usual,
the blame of her own folly on those around her, and endeavoured to cormfort Edith's grief, and aplease her displeasure, by a thousand inconsistent arguments. She was
sure no harm  had cllanced-the knight was sleeping,
she fancied, after his nighlt-watch.  What though, for
fear of the King's displeasure, lie had deserted with the
Standard-it was but a piece of silk, and he but a needy
adventurer-or if lie was put under warding for a time,
she would soon get the King to pardon lim-it was but
waiting to let IRichard's mood p]ass awvay.
Thus she continued talking thick and fast, and heaping
together all sorts of inconsistencies, with the vain expectation of persuading both Editli and hlerself that no harmn
could come of a frolic, which in her hleart she now bitterly
repented.  But while Edith in vain strove to intercept this
torrent of idle talk, she caught the eye of one of the
ladies who entered the Queen's apartment.  Thlere was
death in her look of affright and horror, and Edith, at the
first glance of her countenance, had sunk at once on tile
earth, had not strong.necessity, and her own elevation of
character, erabled her to maintain at least external
composure.




THE  TALISMAN.                  199
"Madam," slhe said to the Queen, " lose not ano:her
word in speaking, but save life-if, indeed," sle added,
her voice choaking as she said it, " life may yet be saved."
"It may be-it may," answered the Lady Calista.  "1
have just heard that he has been brought before the King1
-it is not yet ever-but," she added, bursting into a
vehement flood o, weeping, in which personal apprehensi )ns had some share-" it will soon-unless sonme course
be taken."
"I will vow a golden candlestick to the Holy Sepulchre-a shrine of silver to our Lady  of Engaddi-a
pall, worth one hundred bezants, to Saint Thomas of
Orthez," said the Queen, in extremity.
Up), up, madam," said. Edith, " call on the saints if
you list, but be your own best saint."
"Indeed, madam," said the terrified attendant, " the
Lady Edith speaks truth.  Up, madam, and let us to
King Richard's tent, and beg the poor gentleman's life."
" will will o-I viii go instantly," said the Queen, rising
and trembling excessively; while her women, in as great
confusion as herself, were unable to rcender her those
duties lwhich were indispensable to her levee.  Calm,
comrposed, only pale as death, Edith ministered to tile
Queeln with her own hand, and alone supplied the defi
ciencies of her numerous attendants.
Io How you wait, wenches," said the Queen, not able
even then to forget frivolous distinctions.  " Suffer ye
the Lady Edith to do the duties of your attendance?Seest thou, Edith, tlley can do notling-I shall never
be attired in time.  We will send for tlle Archbishop of
T'yre, and employ himl as a mediator."
" O no, no!" exclaimed Edith-" Go yourself, madamd-you have donle the evil, do you confer thle remedy."
I  ill ll  ll       go," said the Queen; " but if Richard be in his mood, I dare not speak to him-lie will
kill me!"
"Yet go, gracious ATadam," said the Lady Calista,
wlho best knew her mistress's temper; " not a lion. in
hlis fiury, could look,,pon ile h a face and form, and retai'l




206        TALES OF THE CRIUSADERS.
so much as an angry thought-far less a love-true knight
like the royal Richard, to whom your slightest word would
be a command."
" Dost thou think so, Calista?" said the Queen. " Ah,
thou little knowest-yet I will go —But see you herewhat means this?  You have bedizened me in green, a*
c.)lour he detests.  Lo you! let me have:t blue robe,
and-search for the ruby carcanet, which was part ol
the King of Cyprus's ransom-it is either in the steel.
casket, or somewhere else."
" This, and a man's life at stake!" said Edith, indignantly; "it passes human patience.  Remain at your
ease, madam-I will go to King Richard-1 am a party
interested-I will know if the honour of a poor maiden
of his blood is to be so far tampered with, that her name
shall be abused to train a brave gentleman from his duty,
bring him within the compass of death and infamy, and
make, at the same time, the glory of England a laughingstock to the whole Christian army."
At this unexpected burst of passion, Berengaria listened with an almost stupified look of fear and wonder.  But
as Edith was about to leave the tent, she exclaimed,
though faintly, " Stop her-stop her!"
"You must, indeed, stop, noble Lady Edith," said
Calista, taking her arm gently; " and you, royal madam,
I am  surte, will go, and without farther dallying.  If the
Lady Edith goes alone to the King, he will be dreadfully
incensed, nor will it be one life that will stay his fury."
" I will go-I will go," said the Queen, yielding tc
necessity; and Edith reluctantly halted to wait her move.
ments.
They were nvw as speedy as she could have desired.
The Queen ha tily wrapped herself in a large loose
mantle, which covered all inaccuracies of the toilette.
In this guise, attended by Edith and her women, and
preceded and followed by a few officers, and men-at.
arms, she hastened to the tent of her lion-like husband




THE  FALISMAN.                   201
CHAPTER XVI1.
Were every hair upon his head a life,
And every life were to be supplicated
By numbers equal to those hairs quadrupled,
Life after life should out like walling stars
Before the day-break-or as festive lamps,
Which have lent lustre to the midniiglit revel,
Each after each are quench'd when guests depart!
Old Play.
TiiE entrance of Queen Berengaria into the interior oi
Richard's pavilion was withstood-in the most respectilu
and reverential manner indeed-but still withstood, by
the chamberlains who watched in the outer tent.  She
could hear the stern command of the King from within,
piohibiting their entrance.
"You see," said the Queen, appealing to Edith, as
if she had exhausted all means of intercession in her power
-" I knew it-the King will not receive us."
At the same time, they heard Richard speak to some
one within,-" Go, speed thine office quickly, sirrahfor in that consists thy mercy-ten bezants if thou deal'st
on him at one blow.-And hark thee, villain, observe if
his cheek loses colour, or his eye falters-mark me the
smallest twitch of the features, or wink of the eye-lid —
I love to know how brave souls meet death."
"If he sees my blade waved aloft without shrinking,
he is the first ever did so," answered a harsh deep voice.
which a sense of unusual awe had softened into a sound
much lower than its usual coarse tones.
Edith could remain silent no longer.' If your Grace,"
she said to the Queen, " make not your own way, I make
it for you; or if not for your Majesty, for myself, at least.
— Charnberlains, the Queen demands to see King Richi....t.the wife twnfe   speak with I1,.' hulsbandi,'




2OQ4          TALES OF THE CIRUSADERS.
" Noble lady," said the officer, lowering his wai,d of
office, "It grieves me to gainsay you; but his 3Majesty.s busied on mnatters of life and death."' And we seek also to speak with him on matters of
life and death," said Edith.-" I will llake entrance for
your Grace." —-Ard putting aside the chamberlain with
one hand, slhe laid hold on the curtain with the other.
"I dare not gainsay her Majesty's plleasure," said the
chamberlain, yielding to the vehemence of the fair petitioner; and as lie gave way, the Queen found  herseli
obliged to enter the apartment of Richard.
The Monarch was lying on his couch, and at sonrme
distance, as awaiting his fiurther commands, stood a man
whose profession it was not difficult to conjecture.  He
was clothed in a jerkin of red cjoth, which reached scantly  below the shoulders, leaving the arms bare firom' albout
lhalf way above the elbow, and, as an upper garment, lihe
wore, when about as at present to betake himlself to his
dreadful office, a coat or tabard withllout sleeves, something
like that of a herald, made of dressed bull's hide, and
stained in tlle front xvith many a broad spot a.nd sp.eckle of
tull crlimson.  The jerkin, and the tabard over it, reach-3d the knee, and tile netier stocks, or covering of the
legs, were of thle same leather which composed the tabard.
A cap of rough shag served to hlide the upper part of a
visage, whiich, like that of a screech-ovl, seemed desirous
to conceal itself fiom ligllt-the  lower part of the face
being obscured by a lhuge red beard, mingling with shaggy
locks of tlle same colour.  What features were seen were
s;tern and mlisantllropical.  The man's figure was short,
strongly made, with a neck like a bull, very broad shoulters, arms  of great and disproportioned length, a huge
square trunk, and tllick bandy legs.   This truculent
official leant on a sword, tile blade of which was nearly
four feet and a half inl length, while the handle of twenty
inches, surrounded by a ring (t' lea'1 plummets to counterpoise the wxeight of such a blade, rose considerably
above tlhe man's head, as lie rested his arm upon its hilt
vaiting for King Richard's farther directions.




THE TALISMAN.                     2W)
On the sudden entrance of the ladies, Richa.'d, who was
tlen lying on his couch, with his face towards the entrance, and resting on his elbow as he spoke to his grisly
attendant, flung himself hastily, as it displeased and surprised, to the other side, turning his back to the Queen
and the females of her train, and drawing around him the
covering of his couch, which, by his own choice, or
more probably the flattering selection of his chamberlaiins, consisted of two large lion's skins, dressed in Ven
ice with suclh admirable skill that they seemed softer than
the hide of the deer.
Berengaria, such as we have described her, knew
well —what woman knows not?-her own road to victory.
After a hurried glance of undisguised andl unaffected terror at tile ghastly companion of her husband's secret
counsels, she rushed at once to the side of Richard's
couclh, dropped on her knees, flung her mantle fronm her
shoulder, sl-owing, as they hung down at their full length,
her beautilful golden tresses, and while her countenance
seemed like tile sun bursting through a cloud, yet bearing
on its pallid front traces that its splendours have been
obscured, she seized upon the right hand of the King,
which, as lie assumed his wonted posture, hlad been employed in dragging the covering of his couch, and gradually pulling it to her with a force which was resisted, though
but faintly, she possessed herself of that arm, the prop
of Christendom, and the dread of Heathenesse, and imprisoning its strength in both her little fairy hands, she
bent uplon it her brow, and united to it her lips.
" What needs this, Berengaria?" said Richard, his
head still averted, but his hand remaining under lher control.
" Send away that man —his look kills me!" muttered
Berengaria.
"Begone sirrah,'  said Richard, still without looking
round-" Wllat wait'st thou for? art thou fit to look on
these ladies?"
"Your Highness's p:asure touching the head," saic
the man.




204          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"Out with thee, dog!" answered Richard-" a Christian burial!"
The man dis,,ppeared, after casting a look upon the
beautiful Queen, in hler deranged dress and natural loveliness, with a smile of admiration more hideous in its
expression, than even his usual scowl of cynical hatred
against  Ilumaniity.
" And now, foolish wench, what wishest thou?" said
Richard, turning slowly and half reluctantly round to his
royal suppliant.
But it was not in nature for any one, far less an admirer of beauty like Richard, to whom it stood only in the
second rank to glory, to loolk without emotion on tile countenance and the trernor of a creature so beautiful as
Berengaria, or to feel, without sympathy, that her lips,
her brow, were on his hand, and that it was wetted by
hler tears.  By degrees. he turned on her bIis imanly countenance, with the softest expression of which his large
blue  eye, which  so  often gleamed with insufferable
lght, was capable.  Caressing hler fair head, and mingling his large fingers in her beautiful and dishevelled
locks, he raised and tenderly kissed the cherub countenance which seemed desirous to hide itself in his hand.
The robust form  the broad, noble brow, and majestic
looks, the naked arm and shoulder, the lions' skins among
which he lay, and tile fair fragile feminine creature that
kneeled by liis side, might have served for a model of
Hercules reconciling himself, after a quarrel, to his wife
Dejanira.
" And, once more, what seeks the lady of mny heart iI.
hIer k1night's pavilion, at this early and unwonted hour?"
" Pardon, my most gracious liege, pardon!" said the
Queen, whose fears began again to unlfit her for the duty
of intercessor.
" Pardon! for what?" asked the King.
"Firs3t, for entering y3ur royal presence too boldly
pnd unc lvisedly —"
Sle stopped.




THiE  rAISMTA N.              2i05
" Thou too boldly!-the sun might as well ask parion, because his rays entered the windows of some
wretch's dungeon.  But I was busied with work unfit fbr
thee to witness, my gentle one, and I was unwilling, besides, that thou should'st risk thy precious health where
sickness has been so lately rife."
But thou art now well?" said the Queen, still delaying the communication which she feared to make.
"Well enough to break a lance on the bold crest of
that champion, who shall refiuse to acknowledge thee the
fairest dame in Christendoln."
"Thou wilt not then refuse me one boon-only one
-only a poor life?"
"Ha!-proceed," said King Richard, bending his
brows.
"This unhappy Scottish knight-" murmured the
Queen.
"' Speak not of him, madam," exclaimed Richard,
sternly; " he dies —his doom is fixed."
1" Nay, my royal liege, and love,'tis but a silken banner
ieglected-Berengaria will give thee another broidered
with her own hand, and rich as ever dallied with the wind.
Every pearl I have shall go to bedeck it, and with every
pearl I will drop a tear of thankfulness to my generous
knight!"
" Thou know'st not what thou say'st," said the King,
interrupting her in anger-"c Pearls! can all the pearls
of the East atone for a speck upon England's honourall the tears that ever woman's eye wept washl away a
stain on Richard's fame?-Go to, madam, know your
place, and your time, and your sphere.  At present we
have duties in which you cannot be our partner."
"Thou hear'st, Edith," whispered the Queen, " we
shall but incense him."
"Be it so," said Edith, stepping forward.-" nMy
lord-I, your poor kinswoman, crave you for justice
rather than mercy  and, to the cry of justice, the ears ot
a monarch shk uld be open at every time, place, and cir
cllmstance."
VOL. 11




206         TALES OF TilE  CRUSADERSI
" Ha! our cousin Edith?" said Richard. rising and
sitting,upriglht on thle side of his couchl, covered with Ilis
iong camiscia —" She speakls ever kinglike, and kinglike
will I answer her, so she bring no iequest tnwortlly herself
or me'lThe beauty of Edith was of a more intellectual and
less voluptuous cast than that of tile Queen; but impatience and anxiety had given hler countenance a glow
whllich it sometimnes wanted, and her mien had a character of energetic dignity, thlt imposed silence for a moment even on R;icliard himself, who, to judge by his looks,
would willingly have interrupted hier.'- My lord," she said, " this good knight, whose
I lood you are about to spill, hath done, in his time, service to Christendom.   He hath fallen fiom  his duty,
throulgh a snare set for him in mere folly and idleness of
spirit.  A message sent to him in tile name of one who
— why should I not speak it?-it was in my own-in.
duced himin for an instant to leave his post-And what
knight in the Christian camp miglht not ylave thus far
transtrressed at command of a maiden,  ho, )0o,01 howsoever in otller qualities, hath yet the blood of Plantagen et
in her veins?'
" And you saw him, then, cousin?" replied the King,
biting his lips to Ikeep down his passion.
"I did, my liege," said Edith.   " It is no time tc
exlplain wherefore-I am here neither to exculpate mysell' nor to blame others."
" And where did you do hlim such a grace?"
"' In the tent of Iler 1Mlajesty the Quleen."
" Of our royal consort!" said Richard.   " Now, by
Hleaven, by Saint George of England, alld every other
saint that treads its crystal floor, this is too audacious I
I have noticed and overlooked this warrior's insolent admiration of one so far above him, and I grudged him not
that one of my blood shotld shed from  hler higlh-born
spltere such influence as the sun bestows on the world
beneath-But, Heaven and earth! that you should have
admnitted 1him to an audience by night, in the very tent




TIE'TAL ISMAN.                  207
of O,'1 royal consort!  and dare to offer this as an excuse
fi;r his disobedience and de3erlion! By my fathler's soul
1Edith, thou shalt Lrue this thy lifelong in a mlonastery!"
"My liege," said Edithl, " your greatness licenses
tyranny.  My honour, Lord King, is as little touched as
yiours, and my Lady the Queen ean prove it if she think
fit.-But I lhave already said, I amn not here to excuse
myself or inculpate others-l ask you but to extend to
one, wlxv)se fault was cominitted under strong temptation,
that mercy, which eveil you yourself, Lord  King, must
one day suptplicate at a higher tribunal, and for faults, perhaps, less venial."
" Can this be Edith Plantagenet?" said  the King,
bitterly,-" Edith Plantagenet, the wise and the noble?Or is it some love-sick woman, who cares not for her own
fame in comparison of the life of her paramour? Now
by King Henry's soul! little hinders but I order thy minion's skull to be brought from the gibbet, and fixed as a
perpetual ornament by the crucifix in thy cell!"
"And if thou dost send it fromn the gibbet to be placed
forever in my sight," said Edith, " I will say it is a relic
of a good kniglht, cruelly and unworthily done to death
by-(she  checked herself)-by  one of whom  I shall
only say, he should have known better how to reward
chivalry.-Mlinion call'st thlou him?" she continued, with
increasing vehemence,-" He vwas indeed my lover, and
a most trlue one —but never sought lhegrace from  ne. by
look or word-contented with such humble observance
as men pay to the saints-And the good-the valiantthe faithful, must die for this!"
" 0, peace, peace, for pity's sake," whispered  the
Queen, " you do bult offend him more."
" I care not," said Edith; " the spotless virgin fears
not the ratinlr lion! Let him work his will on this worthy
knihllt.  Edith, for whom lie dies, will know how to weep
his memnory-to me no one shall speak more of politic
alliances, to be sanctioned with this poor hand   I coule
not-I would not —have been his bride living —our dr
798




2OS         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
grees were too distant.  But death unites t.e high and
the low —I am henceforward the spouse of the grave."
The King was about to answer with much anger,when
a Carmelite monk entered the apartment hastily, his
head and person muffled in the long mantle and hood of
striped cloth of the coarsest texture, which distinguished
his order, and, flinging himself on his knees before the
King, conjured him, by every holy word and sign, to stop
the execution.
" Now, by both sword and sceptre!" said Richard,' the world are leagued to drive me mad'-fools, women,
and monks, cross me at every step.  How comes he to
live still?"
" My gracious liege," said the monk, "I entreated
of the Lord of Gilsland to stay the execution until I had
thrown myself at your royal-"
"' And he was wilful enough to grant thy request,"
said the King; " but it is of a piece with his wonted
obstinacy —And what is it thou hast to say?  Speak, in
the fiend's name!", My lord, there is a weighty secret —but it rests under the seal of confession —I dare not tell or even whisper it-but I swear to thee by my holy order —by the
habit which I wear-by the blessed Elias, our founder,
even him- who was translated without suffering the ordinary pangs of mortality-that this youth hath divulged to
me a secret, which, if I might confide it to thee, would utterly turn thee from thy bloody purpose in regard to him."
"Good father," said Richard, " that I reverence the
church, let the arms which I now wear for her sake,
bear witness.  Give me to know this secret, and I will
do what shall seem  fittilg, in the matter.  But I am no
blind Bayard, to take a leap in the dark under the stroke
of a pair of priestly spurs."
"My lord," said the holy man, throwing back his cowl
and upper vesture, and' discovering under the latter a
garment of goatskin, and from beneath the former a visage so wildly wasted by climate, fast, and penance, as te
resemble rather the ap[arition of an animated skeleton




THE TALISMAN.                  209
lIhan a human face, " for twenty years have I macerated
thlis miserable body in tile caverns of Engaddi, doing
penance for a great clime.  Think you I, who aim dead
to tile world, would contrive a falsehood to endanger my
own soul, or that one, bound by the most sacred oaths
to the contrary-one suchl as 1, who have but one longing wish connected with earth, to wit, the rebuilding of
our Christian Zion,-would betray the secrets of the
confessional? Both are alike abhorrent to my very soul."
"' So," answered the King, " thou art that hermit of,
whom men speak so much?  Thou art, I confess, like
enough to those spirits which walk in dry places, but
Richard fears no hobgoblins-and thou art lhe, too, as I
betIlink me, to whom the Christian princes sent this very
criminal to open a communication with the Soldan, even
while I, who oughllt to have been frst consulted, lay on
my sick-bed? Thou and they may content themselvesI will not,lut my neck into the loop of a Carmelite's
girdle —And, for your envoy, he shall die, the rather and
the sooner that thou dost entreat for him."' Now God be gracious to thee, Lord King!" said
the hermit, v with much enlotion; " thou artsetting that
mischief on foot which thou xwilt hereafter wish thou hadst
stopt, though it had cost thee a L1mb.  Rash, blinded,.man, yet forbear!
" Away, away!" said the King, stamping, " the;un
has risen on the dcishlonour of England, and it is not yet
avenged.-Ladies and priest, withdraw, if ye would not
hear orders whichl would displease you; for, by Saint
George, I swears"
" Swear NOT!" said the voice of one who had just
then entered the pavilion.
" Ha! my learned Hakim," said the King; " come
I hope, to tax our generosity."
" I come to request instant speech with you —instanw
-and touching matters of deep interest.'
" First look on my wife, Hakim. and let her know in
uu the preserver of her husband."
VO1,.  I.




2 (7 10TALES OF T1'HE CRUSADERlS.' It Is not for me," said tile plhysician, folding his arilm
with an air of oriei'tal mlodesty and reverence, afnd bendin-g lis eyes on tile ground,-" It is not bor me to look
uploll beauty tlnveiled, and arnmed in its splendourls."
Rlletire, then, Belrengaria," said tile  onarchll; " and,
Editlh, do you retire also; —nay, renew not your importunities! This I give to tlhem, thlat thle execution shall
not be till highl noon.   Go ahd be pacifiedl-dearest
Berengaria, begone.-Edith," lie added, witl a glance
vwhich struck terror even into the couragCeous soul of his
Linswoman, "go if you are wise."
Tlhle females witihdrew, or rathier hurried from the tent.
rank and ceremony forgotten, much like a flock of wildfowl huddled together, against whom thle falcon has made
a recent stoop.
Thlley returned from  thence to the Queen's pavilion,
to indulge in regrets and recriminations, equally unavailing.   Edith was the only one who seemed to disdain
these ordinary channels of sorrow.   Vitllout a sighl, without a tear, withoLt a word of upbraiding, she attended
upon thle Queen, wlhose weak temperament slhowed her
sorrow  in violent hysterical ecstasies, and passionate
hypochondriacal effusions, in the course of whlich Edith
sedlulouslr, and even affectionately, attended her.
" It is impossible she can have loverl this kniht,l" said
Florise to Calista, her senior in attendance  upon the
Queen's person.  " WVe have been mistaken; slie is but
sorry for his fate, as for a stranger who has come to trout)le on her accoullt."
Husllh, hush," answered her more experienced, and
more observant comrade; " she is of tlhat proud house
of Plantagenet, who never own tlhat a hurt grieves them.
~A liile the)y have t!emselves been bleeding to deathl, under a mortal wound, they have been known to bind up the
scratches sustained by their more faint-hearted comradles.
— Florise, we have (lone frig.htfully wrong ~ and, for  ny.wn part, I would buy with every jewel I have, that oui
fatal jest had remained unacted."




TIHE  TALISMANt:2, 
CItAPTER XVIII.
This work desires a planetary intelligence,
Of Jupiter and Sol; and those gTeat spirits
Are proud, fantastical. It asks great charges
To entice them from the guiding of their spheres,
To wait on mortals.
ALBUMAZAR.
THnE hermit followed  tile  ladies from  tile pavilion oj
Ricllard, as slhadow follows a beam  of sunshine when the
clouds are driving over the flce of the sun.  But lie turned on the thresllold, and lheld up hlis lhand  towards the
King in a warning, or almost a menacing posture, as lie
said,-" Woe to him   who rejects tile  counsel of the
Church, and  betaketlih hilmself to the foul divan of thle
infidel! King Richard, I do not yet slhake the dust fioin
my feet and  depart firom  thly  encampment-the sword
falls not —but it hlangs but by a lhair.-lHaughty monarch
we silall mleet again."
"Be it so, hautglity priest," returned Riclard, "L prouder in thy goat-skins than pitinces in p)tlrple land fine linen."
The hermnit vanished tfron the tent, and thie King contintied, addressing the Arabian,-"' Do tile dervises of tile
East, wise Ilakin, use slclh Itrtilhiarity with their princes?"
"The dervise," replied Adonbec, "should be eitller a
sage or a madllnan; there is no nllidtlle course for hlin) wwho
bars the khlirlillah,x who   atchlies by night, and'.asts by
day. Hence, hath lie eitherw-isdom enougil to bearhlinlself
discreetly in tile!presence of l)rinlces, or else, having rno
reason  bestowed on hlim, lie  is not responsible  for his
jwn actions."
<' Mletllinks our monks llave adopted chiefly the latti1' Literallyv the torn robe. The habit of the dervises is so called




TALES OF THE CARUJADERS.
character," said Richard — " But to the matter. — n  ivhat
caln I pleasure you, my learned phllysician?"' Great King,  said E11 Htakil,  Iilakin, g his profo)und
Oriental obeisance, "let thy  servant speak one word,
and vet live.  1 would remindl tlhee that thiou owest.-not
to me their humnble instrumnlent-bt to thle Intelligences,
wvllose blelefits I dispense to mortals, a life  "
" And 1 warrant me thou would'st 1)rve another in
requital, hla?" interrtupted the King.
" Such is my humble prayer,"  said the HIlakim, " to
the greatMelechRic-even the life of this good knighlt,
wvho is doomed  tco die, and but for such fault as w-as
comminitted by thle Sultan Adam, surnamed Aboulb;schlar,
or tile father of all men."
" And thy xwisdom  miglit remind thee, Hakim, that
Adam diedc for it," saicl the King, somewh-l at sternly, and
tlhen beg'an to pace the nalorrow  space of his tent, with
some elmotion, and to talk to liimself.   "  llhy, God-ainercy-I knewv wxlhat lie clesired as soon as ever lie entered the pavilion!-Here is one l)oor life justly condemned
to extinction, and 1, a King and a soldier, w'llo have slain
tlhlousands by my command, and scores witll my own
liand, am to have no power over it, althlouglh thle honour
of my arms, of lmy house, of my very  Queen, lath been
attainted by tile culprit-By  Saint George, it makes me
laug-lh! By Saint Louis, it reminds me of Blondel's tale
of an enchlanted castle, whlere tile destined knight was:vithlstood successively in his pilrpose of en!tance by forms:iand fitgures the most dissimilar, but all hostile to h!is undertaking.  No sooner one sunk than anlother appeared 
— Wife-IKinswomian -Hermit-H:,lkitn-eacli appears
i,1 the lists as soon as the other is defeated!-Why, this is
a single knighlt fighlting against the -whole m1elee of tlhe
tournamentcilt-ha   ha h! h1a!"-Anld  Richard  laughled
alotud; for lhe 11ad, in fact, tbegpun to change his mood, his
resenutmient being usually too violent to be of long endurance.
Tlhe )!hysician meanvwhile looked on him with a countenance of surplrise, not unmingled with contemlpt b. 




THEu TALISMAN.                 i21 3
the easter i people make no allowance for those inercurial changes in the temper, and consider open laughter,
upon almost any account, as derogatory to the dignity of
Inan, and becoming only to women and children.   At
length the sage addressed the King, when he saw him
more composed.
"A doom of death should not issue from laughing lips.
-Let thy servant hope that thou hast granted him this
man's life."
" Take the freedom  of a thousand captives instead,"
said Richard; "restore so many of thy countrymen to
their tents and families, and I will give the warrant
instantly. This man's life can avail thee nothing, and it
is forfeited."
" All our lives are forfeited," said the Hakim, putting
his hand to his cap.  " But the great Creditor is merciful, and exacts not the pledge rigorously noruntimely."' Thou canst show me," said Richard, " no special
interest thou hast to become intercessor betwixt me and
the execution of justice, to which I am sworn as a crowned King."
" Thou art sworn to the dealing forth mercy as well
as justice," said El Hakim; " but what thou seekest,
great King, is the execution of thine own will.  And for
the concern 1 have in this request, know that many a man s
life depends upon thy granting this boon."
"Explain thy words," said Richard; " but think not
to impose-upon me by false pretexts."
" Be it far from thy servant!" said Adonbec. "Know,
then, that the medicine to which thou, Sir King, and
many one beside, owe their recovery, is a talisman, com
posea under certain aspects of the heavens, when the
Divine Intelligences are most propitious.  I am  but the
poor administrator of its virtues.  I dip,t in a cup ol
water, observe the fitting hour to administer it to the
patient, and the potency of the draught works the cure."
A X most rare medicine," said the King, " and a comrnod'ous! and, as it may be carried in the leech's purse,
-wou(ild save the wlhole caravan of camels which they re.




214          TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
quire to convey drugs and physic-stuff-I marvel there is
any other in use."'; It is written," answered the Haklim, with imperturbable gravity, " abuse not tile steed wlhich hath borne thee
firom the battle.  Know, that such talismans mighlt indeed
be framned, but rare has been tile number of adepts whc
have dared to undertake the application of their virtue
Severe restrictions, painful observances, fasts, and penance, are necessary on the part of' the sage who uses this
mode of cure; and if, through neglect of these lpreparations, by his love of ease, or his indulgence of' sensua.
appetite, he omits to cure at least twelve persons witthin
the course of each moon, the virtue of the divine gift
departs from  the amulet, and both the last patient and
the physician will be exposed to speedy misfortune, neither will they survive the year.  I require yet one life to
make up the appointed nlumber."'" Go out into the camp, good Hakim, lwhere thou wilt
find a-many," said thle King, " and do not seek to rob
my headsinan of his patients; it is unbecoming     a mediciner of thine eminence to interfere withl the practice of
anotiler.-Besides, I cannot see how delivering a criminal
irom the death he deserves, should go to tnake up thy
tale of miraculous cures."
" When thou canst show why a draught of cold water
should have cured thee, when tle most precious drugs
failed," said thle Hakim, "' thiou may'st reason on the
other mysteries attendant on this matter.  For n!vself, 1
am  inefficient to the great work, having this imorning
touched an unclean animal.  Ask, therefore, no ifarthe
questions; it is enough, that by sparing this man's life
at my request, you will deliver yourself, great King,
and thy servant, firom a great danger."
" Hark thee, Adonbec," replied the King, " I have
no objection that leeches should wrap their words in mnist,
and pretend  to derive knowledge fi-om the stars; but
when you bid Richard Plantagenet fear that a (danger
will fall  upon him firom some idle onien, or oimitted cerpenonlial, you speak to no ignorant Saxon, or ldoting old




T'IE[1  TALISMAN.                 z I 5.ronman, who foregoes her purpose because a hare trosses
thle patih, a raven croaks, or a cat sneezes."
I' 1 cannot linder your doubt of my words," said Adonoec;' bUt yet, let 1-y Lord the King grant tlhat truth is
an the tongue of his servant,-will lie think it just to deprive tile world, and  every wretch who may suffer by
the pains wlhich so lately reduced him  to that couch,
of tl-e benefit of this most virtuous talisman, rcather than
extend his forgiveness to one poor criminal?  Bethlink
you, Lord King, that though thou canst slay thousands,
tlhou canst not restore one man to health.  Kings hlave
the power of Satan to torment, sages t.hat of Allah to heal
-beware how thou binderest the good to humanity, which
thou canst not thyself render.  Thou canst cut off the
head, but not cure the aching tooth."
" This is over insolent," said the King, hardening himself, as the Hakimn assrimed a more lofty, and almlost a
commanding tone.' We took thee for our leech, not
for our OcOunsellor, or conscience-keeper."
" And is it thus the most renowned Prince of Frangistan repays benefit done to his royal person?" said E1l
ilalitii, exchlangin  the humble and stooping posture,
in which lie had hitherto  solicited the Kin g, for an attitude lofty and commanding.  " Know then," lie said,
"that throllgh every court of Europe and Asia-to MIoslem and Nazarene-to knighlt and lady-'wherever harp
is hieard and sword worn-whverever honour is loved and
infamy detested-to every (tuarter  of tile world  vill I (lenounce thee, ilelech Ric, as thankless and ungenerous;
and even the lands-if there be any such-that never
heard of thy renown. shall yet be acquainted  with thy
slname!
o'" Are these terms to me. vile infidel!" sail Richard,
striding tip to him in fury.-" Art Nxeary of thy life?"'" Strike!" said  El Hakimrl; " thine own de..ad shall
thwi paint thee more worthless than could my words,
thallot ll each had an ilornet's sting."
Richard turned  fiercely from  him, folded his arlus.
traversed the tpont as before, and then exclailned. "'Filanl.




216         TALES OF THE CRUSADERSS
less and ungenerous?-as well be termed coward and
infidel!-Hakini, thou lhast chosen thy boon; anti though
I nad rat.ler thou hadst asked my crown-jewels, yet 1
may not kinglike refulse thee.  Take this Scot, therefore,
to thy keeping-the provost will deliver him to thee on
this wvarrant."
He hastily traced one or two lines, and gave them
to the physician.  " Use him  as thy bond-slave, to be
disposed of as thou wilt-only, let him beware how lihe
comes before the eyes of Richard.  Hark thee-thou art
wise-he hath been over bold among those in whose fair
looks and weak judgments we trust our honour, aj you
of the East lodge your treasures in caskets of silv(.r wire,
as fine and as frail as the web of a gossamer."' Thy servant understands the word of the King,"
said the sage, at once resuming the reverent style ol
address in which lie had commenced.  " When the rich
carpet is soiled, the fool pointeth to the stain-the wise
man covers it with his mantle.  I have heard my lord's
pleasure, and to hear is to obey."
" It is well," said the King; " let him consult his own
safety, and never appear in my presence more.-Is there
aught else in which I may do thee pleasure r"
" The bounty of the King hath filled my cup to the
brim," said the sage; "yea, it hath been abundant as
the fountain which sprung up amid the camp of tile descendants of Israel, whlen the rock was stricken by the
rod of Moussa Ben Amran."
" Ay, but," said the King, smiling, " it required, as
in the desert, a hard blow on the rock, ere it yielded its
treasures.  I would that I knew something to pleasure
thee, which I migilt yield as freely as the natural fountain
sends forth its waters."
" Let me touch tlhat victorious hand," said the sage,
" n token, tllat if Adonbec El Hakiln should hereafter
demand a boon of Ricllard of England, lie may do so,
yet plead his command."'Thou hast hand and glove upon it, man," replied Richarld      only. if thou colldst consistently make up tihy tale




THlE TA ISMSAN.                   217'
of patients without cravin^g   me to deliver from   ),inishrnent tliose wlio lhave deserved it, I would lmore willingly
discllarge ny (;lebt in some otlier forll."
"   ay tliy days be mlultiplied!" —answered tile Hakim, and withldrew ifrom  the apartment after the usua
deep obeisance.
King Riclhard gazed  after him  as lie departed, like
one but half-satisfied witll what had passed.
" Strange pertinacity," he said, " in thlis Hakim, and
a wonderiul chance to interfere between that audacious
Scot and the chastisement he has mlerited so richly.
Yet let him  live! tliere is one brave man the more in
the world.-And now  for tlie Austrian.-Ho, is the
Baron of Gilsland tlere witllout?"
Sir Thomas De Vaux tllhus summoned, llis bulky form
speedily darkened the opening of the pavilion, while behind him glided as a spectre, unannounced, yet unopposed, the savage form of the hermit of Engaddi, wrapped
ill is goat-skin mantle.
-liclhardc,  itlout noticing his presence, called in a loud
tone to the Baron, " Sir Thomas De Vaux, of Lanercost
and Gilsland, take trumpet andl herald, and go instantly
to the tent of him w-lom they call Arcll-Dukke of Austria,
and see that it be  vlhen thle press of his khnights and vassals is (reatest around llim,-as is likely at tils hour, lor
the German boar brealkfists ere lie llears mass-enter
his presence with as little reverence as thou ma)y'st,
and ilnpeach  him, ont the part of Richlard  of Englalld,
that lie hath this night, by his own hand, or that of otlers,
stolen firom its staff the Blanner of Eringlland.  WXVerefore,
say to hlim  our pleasure, that, vitllin an hour fiom  thle
time of my speaking, lie restore the said banner wvith
all reverence-he himself and his principal barons waitinz the whiiilst witll heads uncovered, and wvitlout their
robes of hollour-And that, moreover, lie pitch beside
it, on the one hand, hlis oxwn Banner of Aunstria reversed,
as that which liath been dislionoured by tlheft and felony
— a.d on thle otller, a lance, bearing   tlle bloody head of
V(oI. II




215         qrATAES OF TrIIE CiRUSADERS,
htim whlo was hlis nearest counsellor, or assistant, in thiE
base in jury-And say, that suchl our behests being punctually disclharged, we will, for the sake of our vow, and
the weal of tile Holy Land, forgive hlis other forfeits."
" And how if tile Duke of Austria deny all accession
to tlhis act of wrong and of felony?" said Thomas De
Vatix.
"'ell him," replied the King, " we will prove it upon
his body-ay,  were lie backed with his two  bravest
cllampions.  Knightlike will we prove it, on foot or on
horse, in the desert or in the field, time, place, and arms,
all at Ihis own choice."
"' Bethink you of the peace of God and the Church,
my liege lord," said the Baron of Gilsland, " among
thlose princes engaged in this holy crusade."
" Bethink you hlow to execute my commands, my liege
vassal," answered  Richard, inlpatiently.   " Mlethinks
men expect to turn our purpose by their breath, as boys
blow featilers to and fro —Peace of the Church!-who,
I prithee, minds it?-Tlhe peace of the churcll, amrnong
crusaders, implies war with tile Saracens, with whom tile
princes have made truce, and the one ends with the other.
And, besides, see you not how every prince of them  is.
seeking his own several ends? — will seek mine alsoand that is honour.  For hIonour I came hithler, and if 1
may not win it upon the Saracens, at least I will not lose
a jot from  any respect to this paltry duke, tllough he
were bulwarked and buttressed by every prince in the
crusade."
De Vaux turned to obey the King's mandate, shrugging his shoulders at the same time, tile bluntness of his
nature being unable to conceal that its tenor went against
his judgment.  But the Hermit of Engaddi steppedl forward, and assumed the air of one ctlarged with higher
commands than those of a mere earthly potentate.  Indeed, his dress of shaggy skins, his uncombed and untrimmed hair and beard, his lean, wild, and contorted
features, and tile almost insane fire which gleamned fiom
unlier his bushy evebrows, mnlade limn  aplproachl nearly




THE TALISMA-N.                    21 
to our idea of somne seer of Scripture, who, charged with
highi im-ission to tile sinful Kings  of Judah or Israel, descendeu. fiom the rocks and caverns in which lie dwelt in
abstracted solitude, to albash earthly tyrants in tle midst
of tleir pride, by discllarging on tliern the bligllting denunciations of Divine Majesty, even as the cloud discharges the lightnings with which it is firaught, on the
pin.nacles and towers of castles and palaces.  In tlle
midst of hlis most wayward mood, Richard respected the
church and its ministers, and thougllh offended at the intrusion of thle hermit into his tent, he greeted him wvith
resp)ect; at thle same time, however, making a sign to
Sir Thomas De Vaux to thasten on his message.
But tile hermit prolhibited the baron, by gesture, look,
and word, to stir a yardt on such an errand; and, lolding up his bare arm, from whlich the boat-skin mantle fell
back in the violence of his action, lie waved it aloft,
meagre with famine, and wealed with the blows of the
discipline.
" In tile name of Gorl, and of the most holy Father,
the vicegerent of tlhe Chlristian Clhurch utpon earth, I prohibit this most profeane, bloodthirsty, and brutal defiance,
betwixt two Clhristian princes, whose shoulders are signedl
witll tle blessed mark under whicll they swore brothlerhIood.  Woe to llin by vwhom it is broken!-Richard of
England, recall thle most unhallowed message tlhou hast
given to that baron-D)anger and Death are nigh thee
-the dagger is glancing at thy very throat!    "
"Danger aiid Death are playmates to Riclhard," answered the Alonarch. prouldly; " and he hatl braved too
many swords to fear a dagger."
"Danger and Death are near," replied the seer; and,
sinking his voice to a hollow, unear;thly   tone, lie added,
" Ald after deatll tlle judgment!"
" Good and holy father," said Richard, " I reverence
thy person and thy sanctity    "
"' Reverence not me!" interrupted tlle hermit; " reveienre sooner the vilest insect that crawls by the shores
of the Deadl Sea, and feeds upon its accursed slime.




220         TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
But reverence Him whose commands I speakl-lRever
ence Him whose sepulcihre you hlave vowed to rescuteRevere the oath of concord whlich you hlave sworn-01, and
break not the silver cord of' union and fidelity with whlich
youl have botlunad yourself to yolr princely confederates."
" Good fatlher," said the King, " you of thle Church
seem to me to presume somewliat, if a layman  may say
so  muchl, upon the dignity of your holy character.
Without challenging your right to take charge of our conscience, methinks you might leave us the charge of our
own honour."
" Presume!" repeated the hermit-'" is it for mne to
presunme, royal Richard, who am but thle bell obeying
the hand of tle sexton —butt the senseless and worthless
trumpet, carrying the command of him who sounds it?
-See, on my knees I throw myself before thee, imploring thee to have mercy on Christendon, on England,
and on thyself:."
"1 Rise, rise," said Richard, compelling Iim to stand
up; "it b-eseems not that knees, which are so frequently
bended to tlle Deity, should press the ground in honour
of man.-What danger awaits us, reverend ifather?and when stood the power of England so low, that the
noisy bluster of this new-made Duke's displeasure should
alarm her, or lier monarlc1h?"
I have looked Ilorth firom my mountain turret upon
the starry host of heaven, as eachl in his midnight circuit
uttered wisdom to anothler, and knowledg e to the few
who can understand tlleir voice.  There sits fan enemy
in thy House of Life, Lord King, malign at once to thy
faime, and thy prosperity-an emanation of Saturn., menacing thee with instant and bloody peril, and( which, but
thou yield th]y prouid will tothe rule of thy duty, will presently crlush thee, even tll- prid(e."
" Away, awar-thlis is heathlen  science," said tlhe
King.  " Christians practise it not —wise lT:en believe it
riot.-Old man, thou dotest."
" I dote not, Richard,"  answered  the  hermit —I am  not so happy.   I know  my condition, and




ll'H E TAl.I SMA A.            2'2 1
that some l)ortion of reason is yet perrilitted mrie, not
for my own use, but that of the Church, and the advancement of the Cross.  I am  tile blind man wvho
holds a torch to others, though it yields no light to
himself.  Ask me touching what concerns the weal of
Christendom, and of this crusade, and I will speak with
thee as the wisest counsellor on whose tongue persuasion
ever sat.  Speak to me of my own wretchled being, aud
my words shall be those of the maniac outcast h-lich
I am."
" I would not break the bands of unity asunder anmong
the Princes of the Crusade," said Richard, with a mitigated tone and manner; " but what atonement can they
render me for the injustice and insult which I have sustained?"
"' Even of that I am prepared and commissioned to
speak by the council, which, meeting hastily at the summons of Philip of France, have taken measures for that
effect."
"Strange," replied Richard, " that others should
treat of what is due to the wounded Majesty of England!"
"They are willing to anticipate your demands, if it be
possible," answered the hermit.  " In a body, they consent that the Banner of England be replaced on Saint
George's Mount, and they lay under ban and condemnation the audacious criminal, or criminals, by whom it
was outraged, and will announce a princely reward to any
who shall denounce the delinquent's guilt, and give his
flesh to the wolves and ravens."
"And Austria," said Richard —" upon whom rest such
sMrong presumptions that he was the author of the deed?"
" To prevent discord in the host," replied the hermit,'" Austria will clear himself of the suspicion, by submitting to whatsoever ordeal the Patriarch of Jerusalemr
shall impose."'
" Will lie clear himnself by the trial by combat?' said
King Richard.
"' His oath  prohibits it," said the hermit;' anra
moreover, the Council of the Princes-"
27 vor.. ii.




W22        T'ALLES OF TILE CRUSADERS.
" Will neither authorize battle against tile Sara,,-ens,'
interrupted Richard, " nor against any one else.  1Bu1
It, is enoughl, fatiter —thou hast shlown  me the folly of
proceeding as I designed in this matter.  You shall soon
er light your torch in a puddle of rain, than bring 2
spark out of' a cold-blooded coward.  There is no honour to be gained on Austria, and so let him pass. —I
will Lave hinl perjure hIimself, however; I will insist on
the ordeal. —How I shall laugh to hear his clumsy fingets hiss, as he grasps the red-hot globe of iron! — v,
or his huge mrouth riven, and his gullet swelling to suffocation, as lie endeavours to swallow  thle conse rated
bread!"
" Peace, Richard," said the hermit —" Oh, peace, for
shame, if not for charity.   Who shall praise or honour
princes, WhO insult and calumniate eachl other?  Alas 
that a creature so noble as tlhou art-so accomplished in
princely thoughts and princely daring-so fitted to lionour Christendomi by t)hy actions, and, in thy calmer mood,
to rule her by tLy wisdom, should yet have the brute and
wild fury of thlie lion, mingled with tile dignity and courage
cf that King of tile forest!"
He remained an instant musing with his eyes fixed on
the ground, and tllen proceeded —' But Heaven, that
knows our imperfect nature, accepts of' our imperfect
obedience, and hath delayed, though not averted, the
bloody end of thy daring life.  Tle destroying angel
hath stood still, as of old by the tllreshing-floor of Araunahl
the Jebusite, and the blade is drawn in his hand, by
which, at no distant date, Richard, the lion-hearted, shall
be as low as the meanest peasant."
" AlMust it then be so soon?" —said Richard.  "Yet,
even so be it.   Mlay my course be bright, if it be but
brief!"
" Alas! noble King," said the solitary, and it seemed
as if a tear (unwonted gnest) were gathering in lis dry
and glazenled eye —" short and melancholy, marked with
mortification, and calamity, and captivity, is the span
that dlivides thee from the g:rave which yawns for thee




THE TALISMAN,                   22. 
-a grave in which thou shalt b e laid without i aeage tc;tucceed thee —without the tears of a people, exhausted
by thly ceaseless wars, to lament thee-without having
extended the knowledge of thy subjects-without having
done aught to enlarge their happiness."
" But not without renown, monk —not without the tears
of the lady of my love! These consolations, which thou
canst neither know nor estimate, await upon Richard to
his grave."
" Do I not know —-can I not estimate, the value of
minstre!'s praise, and of lady's love!" retorted the hernit, in a tone, wvhich for a moment seemed to emulate the
enlhusias;n of Richard himself.  " King of England," he
continued, extending his emaciated arm, " the blood
whllich boils in thy blle veins. is not more noble than that
whvich stagnates in nmine.   Few and cold as the drops
are, they still are of the blood of the royal Lusignan —
of tlhe heroic and sainted Godfrey.  I am-that is, I was
when in the world -Alberick Miortemar    "
"< Whose deeds," said Richard, "have so often filled
Fame's trumpet!  Is it so —can it be so?-Could such
a light as thine fall from the horizon of chivalry, and yet
men be ulncertain where its embers had aligllted?"
" Seek a fallen star," said the hermit, " and thou shalt
only light on some foul jelly, which, in shooting through
the horizon, has assumned for a moment an appearance ot
splendour.  Richard, if 1 thought that rending the bloody
veil from  my horrible fate could make thly proud heart
stoop to the discipline of the church, I could find in my
heart to tell thee a tale, which I have hitherto kept gnawing at my vitals in concealment, like the self-devoted
youth of heathenesse.-Listen, then, Richard, and may
the grief and( despair, which cannot avail this wretched
reniant of what was once a man, be powerfuil as an
examlle to so noble, yet so wvild a being  as thou art.
Yes-I will -I wiil tear open the long-hidden wounds,
althlotgh in hlly very presence they should bleed to death."'
King Richard,  upon whom the history of Alberick oi
l,.tIemar had tnade a deep impression in his early
799




;B224       TALES OF THE CRUSADIBtS,
years, when minstrels were regaling his father'  nalls with
legends of the Holy Land, listened with respect to the
utlihnes of a tale, which, darkly and imperfectly sketch.
ed, indicated sufficiently the cause of the partial insanity
of this singuldr and most unhappy being.
" I need not," he said, " tell thee, that I was noble
in birth, high in fortune, strong in arms, wise in counsel.
All these I was; but while the noblest ladies in Palestine strove which should wind garlands for my helmet,
my love was fixed —unalterably and devotedly fixed —
on a maiden of low degree.  [ier faither, an ancient soldiel
of the Cross, saw our passion, and knowing tile difference
betwixt us, saw no other refluge tbr hlis dauglhter's lhonour
than to place ther within the stacdow of the cloister.  I r.eturned from a distant expedition, loaded with spoils and
honour, to find my happiness was destroyed for ever! I, too,
sought the cloister, and Satan, who had marked me for
his own, breathed into my heart a vapour of spiritual
pride, which could only have had its source in his own
infernal regions.  I had risen as high in the Church as
before in the state-I was, forsooth, the wise, the selfsufficient, the impeccable!-I was the counsellor of councils-I was the director of prelates-how should I sturnmble-wherefore should I fear temptation?-Alas! I became confessor to a sisterhood, and amongst that sisterhood I found the long-loved-the long-lost.  Spare me
farther confession!-A fallen nun, whose guilt was avenged by self-murder, sleeps soundly in the vaults of Engaddi, while, above her very grave, gibbers, moans, and
roars a creature, to whom but so much reason is left as
may suffice to render him completely sensible to his fate "
" Unhappy  man!"  said Richard.   "I wonder no
longer at thy misery.  How didst thou escape the doom
which the canons denounce against thy offence?"
"Ask one who is yet in the gall of worldly bitterness,"
said the Hermit, " and he will speak of a life spared
for parsonal respects, and from consideration to high
birth.  But, Richard, I tell thee, that Providence bath
pireserved me, to lift me on high as a light and beacon,




THE T AI, ASMAN.                22,5
whose ashes, when this earthly fuel is burnt out, mt st yet
be flung into Tophet.  Withered and. shrunk as this po)or
form is, it is yet animated with two spirits — one active,
shrewd, and piercing, to advocate the cause of tile
Church of Jerusalem-one mean, abject, and despairing,
fluctuating  between madness and misery, to mourn over
my own wretchedness, and to guard holy relies, on which
it would be most sinful for me even to cast rmy eye.
Pity me not!-it is but sin to pity the loss of such an
abject-pity me not, but profit by my exanple.  Thou
standest on the highest, and, therefore, on the most dangerous pinnacle, occupied  y any Chllristian prince. Thou
art proud of heart, loose of life, bloody of hand.  Put
from  thee the sins which are to thee as daughtersthough they be dear to the sinful Adam, expel these
adopted furies from  thy breast-thy pride, thy luxury,
thy blood-thirstiness."
" He raves," said Richard, turning from the solitary
Lo De Vaux, as one who felt some pain from a q.areasm
which yet he could not resent —then turned him ra. lmy,
and somewhat scornfully, to the anchoret, as he rn)lied
"' Thou hast found a fair bevy of daughters, re.vrend
father, to one who hath been but few months married;
but since 1 must put them from my roof, it were hilt like
a father to provide them wvith suitable matches.  Wherefore, I will part with my pride to the noble Canons of thle
Church-my luxury, as thou call'st it, to the Mlonks of the
rule-and my blood-thirstiness to the Knights of the
Tem ple."
" 0, hleart of steel, and hand of iron," said the anchoret —" upon whom  example, as well as advicn. IvS
alike thrown away!-Yet shalt thou be spared for a
season, in case it so be thou should'st turn and do that
which is acceptable in the sight of Heaven.-For mne. 1
must return to my place.-Kyrie Eleison!-I am  lie
tllhrough whom the rays of heavenly grace dart like tllose
of the sun throughl  a burning glass, concentrating the-r
on other objects, until they kindle and blaze, while the
glass itself remains cold and uninfluenced -Kyric




~2,6         TALES OF THlE CRUSADERt
Elelson!-tile poor must be called, for tlle rich ihave
refuised tile banqlet -Kyrie Eleison!"
So saying, lie burst fl'roln the tent, uittering loud cries.
" A iiad plriest!-'" said Richlard, fi'onll wxlose mnind
the frantic exclamnations of tile hermlit lhad partly obliteratel tile impression )prodruced by tile' detail of llis personal history and misfortunes.  " After him, De Vaux,
and see he coines to no hlarm; for, crusaders as we are,
a ju-ggler hath more reverence amongst our varlets than
a priest or a saint, and tlley may, perchance, put some
scorn upon him."
The kniglit obeyed, and Richard presently gtave way
to the thoughits whlich the wil o propllecy of tile monk
had inspiredl.-" To die early-withlout lineage-witilout
lamentation? —a hIeavy  sentence, and well thllat it is not
passed by a nore competent judge.  Yet tile Saracens,
who are accomplished in mystical knowledg:e, will often
maintain, thlat Hie, in whose eyes the wisdom of t!ie sage
is bult as folly, inspires wisdomn  and prophecy into tile
seeming folly of tile madman.  Yonder hermit is said
to read the stars too, an art generally practised in these
lands; where tile heavenly host was of vore the object
of idolatry.  I would I had asked him touching the loss
of my banner; for not the blessed Tishbite, the founder
of his order, could seem more Nwildly wr-icpt out of limself, or speak with a tongue more reselimbling that of a
prophet.-How now, De Vaux, what news of the mad
priest?"''
" Mad priest, call you him, my lord?" answered De
Vaux.  " Methinks he resembles more the blessed Baptist hlimself, just issued from tile wilderness.   He has
placed himself on one of the military engines, and firom
thence le preaches to the soldiers, as never man preached since the time of Peter thie Hermit.   Thle camnp,
alarined by his cries, crowd around him  in tlhousanits'
and breaking off every now  and thlen friom the main
thread of llis discourse, lie addresses the severatl nations
each in their own anguage, and presses upon each the




TILE  TALISMAN                        C227
argnuments best quanified to urge them  to perseverance
in tile delivery of Palestine."
" iy tliis lighlt, a noble hermit!" said King Riclardl.
" Bllt what else could comne fioln thle blood of Godfrey?
I[e, despair of' safety,  because  lie  blath in jormer days
lived l pr amours?   I will hlave the Pople send hlim  an
ainple relnission, and 1 would not less willingly be intercessol had llhis belle umie been an zabbess."
As lie spoke, tlle Arclibishop of Tyre craved audience,
for the  purpose  of requesting  Richard's  attendance,
should  his health  permit, on a secret conclave of the
chiefs of the crusade, and to explain to hlim  the military
and political incidents which  had  occurred  during his
illness.
ChIAPTER XIX.
Mutlst we then sheathe our still victorious sword;
Turn back our forward step, which ever trod
O'er foemen's necks the onwvard path of glory;
Unclasp the mail, which with a solemn vow,
In God's own house, we hung uponi our shoulders;
That vow, as unaccomplish'd as the promise
Which village nurses make to still dh1ir children,
And after thinlk no more of? —The Crtlsade, a'Tr'agedy.
THE Archbishop of Tyre was an emissary well choset
to communicate to Richard tidings, wlhicli from  another
voice the lion-hearted  King would not have brooked to
hear. without the most unbounded explosions of resentment.   Even this sagacious and reverend prelate found
difficulty in inducing him to listen to news, vjwhichl destroy2d all his hopes of gaining back  the  Holy  Sepulchre
by force of arms. and  acquiring the  renown, wlhich the
universal all-hail of Christendom  was ready  to  confer
tpon  hm   s I th)  c! e~mp n c  of.!,e C-onss.




L228        TALES OF THlE C1LUSADtJRS.
But. by thle Archbishop's report, it appeared that Saladin was asse-mbling all the force of his hundred tribes,
alld tlhat tile Inonarchs of Europe already disgusted
from  various motives with the expedition, which had
provedl so hazardous, and was daily growing more so,
Ihad resolved to abandon their purpose.   In this they
were countenanced by the example of Philip of France,
who, with many protestations of regard, and assurance;
tihat he would first see his brother of England in safety
declared hlis intention to return to Europe.  His great
vassal, tile Earl of Champagne, had adopted the same
resolution; and it could not excite surprise, thiat  Leopold
of Austria, affionted as hle hlad been by Richard, was glad
to en-brace an opportunity of deserting  a cause, in thlich
his haughty opponent was to be considered as chief.
Others announced the same purpose; so that it was
plain tlhat the King of England was to be left, if he
chose to remain, supported only by such volunteers as
might, under such depressing circumstances, join themselves to tile English army; and by the doubtful aid ol
Conrade of MAontserrat, and the military orders of the
Temple, and of Saint John, who, though they were sworn
to wage battle against the Saracens, were at least equally
jealous of any European monarch achieving tile conquest of Palestine, where, with short-sighted and selfish
policy, tlley proposed to establish independent dominions
of their own.
It needed not many arguments to show Richard the
truth of his situation; and, indeed, after hIis first burst of
passion, he sat him calmly down, and with gloomy looks,
head depressed, and arms folded on his bosom, listened
to the Archbishop's reasoning on the impossibility of hit
Carrying on the crusade when deserted by his companions.   Nay, lie forbore interruption, even when the
prelate ventured, in measured terms, to hint that R chard's
cwii impetuosity had been one main cause of disgusting
the princes with the expedition.' Confiteor-"  answered Richard, with a dejected
)ok<. and soinmeliino of a melanch ooly smii; 1" I confess,




TIFE TALISMANX.                 229
reverend father, that I ought on some accounts to sing
rulpa mena.  But is it not hard that my frailties of temper
should be visited with such a penance, that, for a burst
or two of natural passion, I should be doomed to see fade
before rie ungathered such a rich harvest of glory tc
God, and honour to chivalry?-But it shall not fade.By the soul of the Conqueror, I will plant the Cross
on the towers of Jerusalem, or it shall be planted over
Richard's grave!"
" Thou mayst do it,"  said the prelate, " yet not
another drop of Christian blood be shed in the quarrel."
" All, you speak of compromise, lord prelate-but the
blood of the infidel hounds must also cease to flow," said
Richard.
" There will be glory enough," replied the Archbishop, " in having extorted from Saladin, by force of arms,
and by. the respect inspired by your farme, such conditions, as may at once restore the Holy Sepulchre, open
the Holy Land to pilgrims, secure their safety by strong
fortresses, and, stronger than all, assure the safety of the
Holy City, by conferring on Richard the title of King
Guardian of Jerusalem."
"How!" said Richard, his eyes sparkling with unusual
light-"  -I-I-I the King Guardian of the Holy City!
Victory itself, but that it is victory, could not gain more
-scarce so much, when won with unwilling and disunited forces.-But Saladin still proposes to retain his
interest in the Holy Land?"
" As a joint sovereign, the sworn ally," replied the
prelate, " of the mighty  Richard-his relative —if it
may be permitted —by marriage."
"By marriage!" said Richard, surprised, yet less so
than the prelate had expected.   " Ha! —Ay —Edith
Plantagenet.  Did I dream this?-or did some one tell
me?   My head is still weak from this fever, and has
bee 1 agitated-Was it the Scot, or the Hakim, or yon
ler'loly hermit, that hinted such a wild bargain?"
VOlI. II.




230         TAIE ES OF TH-Ell CR1LAIiEIRBS.
" The hermit of Engaddi, most likely,"  said the
Archbishop; " for he hath toiled mucll in this nlatter;
and since the discontent of the princes has become apparent, and a separation of their freces unavoidable, he
hath hlad mnany consultations, both with Christian and
Pagan, for arranging such a pacification, as mlay give to
Christendom, at least in part, the objects of this holy
warifare."
" Nly kinswoman  to an  infidel —Ha!'" exclaimed
Richard, as his eyes began to sparkle.
rlTe prelate hastened to avert his wrath.
"' he Pope's consent must doubtless be first attained,
and the holy hermit, who is well known at Rome, xwill
treat with the holy Fallher."
" How?-without our consent first given?" said the
King.
"Surely no," said the Bishop, in a quieting and insinuating tone of voice; " only with and under your especial sanction."
"' My sanction to marry my kinswoman to an infidel?"
said Richard; yet lie spoke rather in a tone of doubt
tbln as distinctly reprobating the measure prolposed.' Could I have dreamed of such a composition when I
leaped upon the Syrian shore from tlim prow of my galley,
even as a lion sprinigs on his prey!-And  now-13ut
proceed-l   will hear.with patience."
Equally  delighted and surprised to find his task so
much easier than he had apprelhended, the Archbishop
hastened to pour forth before Richard the instances of
such alliances in Spain-not without countenance firom
the Holy See-the incalculable advantages wllich all
Christendom would derive from the union of Richard and
Saladin, by a bond so sacred; and, above all, he spoke
with great vehernence and unction on thle probability that
Saladin would, in case of the proposed alliance, exchange
his ftlse faith for the true one.
IHath the Soldan  shown any disposition to become
ChrisFian?" said Richard; " if so, the King lives no~
on earth to whom  I would grant the hand of a kinswo




TIlE TALISMAN.                   231
man, ay, or sister, sooner than to my noble Saladinay, tllough the one came to lay crown and sceptre at 1heJ
feet, and the other had Inothi.ng to offer but his good
sword and better heart."
"Saladin hathl lleard our Christian teachers," said the
Bishop, somewhat evasively,-" lny unworthy self —and
otllers-and as he listens with patience, and replies with
calmnness, it can hardly be but tlat lie be snatched as
a brand troln the bluyning..AI gna est veritas, et prevalebit.  M loreover, tfle hermit of Engaddi, few of whose
words have fallen fruitless to the ground, is possessedl
fiully with the belief tliat there is a calling of the Saracens and the other heathen approaching, to which thlis
marriage sliall be Iratter of induction.  He readetli the
colruse of the stars; and dwelling,  with maceration of
the flesh, in those divine places whicll the saints have
trodden of old, the spirit of Elijah the Tishbite, the foundel of his blessed order, hath beeni with him  as it was
with  the  prophet Elisha,thesonof Shaphat, when he
spread his mantle over him."
King Richard listened to thle Prelate's reasoning with
a downcast brow and a troubled look.
" I cannot tell," lhe said, " how it is with me; but:nethinks these cold counsels of the princes of Christendorn have infected me too with a lethargy of spirit.  The
titme hath been, that, had a layman proposed sutch alliance
to me, I had struck him to carth-if a churcllman, I had
spit at him as a renegade and priest of Baal-y-et now
tllis counsel sounds not so strange in mine ear; for why
slhould I not seek for brotherhood and alliance with a
Saracen, brave, just, generous,-wllo loves and honours
a wortvhy foe, as if he were a fiiend,-whilst the princes
of Chr11istendom  shrink firom  the side of their allies, and,rlosake the cause of Heaven and good knighthood?But I will possess my patience; and will not think of
them.  Only one attempt will I make to keep tills gallant brotherhood together, if it be possible; and if' I fail.
lord Arcllhbishop, we will speak togcether of thy cotrusei
whl;:ch. as w ew, I neitlier accept nor altogether reject.




232         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
VWend we to the council, my lord —the hour calls us.
T'thou say'st Richard is hasty and proud-thou shalt see
hlim Ihumble himself like the lowly broom-plant, from
w hich he derives his surname."
With the assistance of those of his privy chamber, the
King then hastily robed himself in a doublet and mantle
of a dark and uniform colour; and without any mark oi
regal dignity, excepting a ring of gold upon his head, lihe
hastened with the Archbishop of' Tyre, to attend the
Council, wlhich waited but his presence to commence
ts sitting.
The pavilion of the Council wasanampletent, having
before it the large Banner of the Cross displayed, and
another, on which was portrayed a female kneeling, with
dishevelled hair and disordered dress, meant to represent
the desolate and distressed Church of Jerusalem, and
bearing the motto, dfflicte sponsce ne obliviscaris.  Warders, carefully selected, kept every one at a distance from
the neiglhbourhood of this tent, lest the debates, which
were sometimes of a loud and stormy character, should
reach other ears than those they were designed for.
Here, therefore, the Princes of the Crusade were assembled, awaiting Richard's arrival; and even the brief
delay which was thus interposed, was turned to his disadvantage by his enemies; various instances being circulated
of his pride, and undue assumption of superiority, of which
even the necessity of the present short pause was quoted
as an instance. AMen strove to fortify each other in their
evil opinion of the King of England, and vindicated the
offence which each had taken, by putting the most severe
construction upon circumstances the most trifling; and all
this, perhaps, because they were conscious of an instinctive reverence for the heroic monarch, which it would
require more than ordinary efforts to overcome.
They had settled accordingly, that they should receive
him on his entrance with slight notice, and no more respect than was exactly necessary to keep within the
bounds of cold ceremonial.  But when they beheld thlai
intoble forimt, that princely countenance, somewhat p-,el




THE'TIALI.SMAN.                2.33
from  his late illness-the eye which had beet, called
by ninstrels the bright star of battle and victorywhen his feats, almost surpassing human strengtll and
valour, rushed on thleir recollection, thle Council oft'
Princes simultaneously arose-even the jealous King
of France, and the sullen and offended Duke of Austria, arose with one consent, and the assembled princes
burst forthl  with one voice in thle acclamation, 1" God
save King Richard of England!-Long life to the valiant
Lion's-hlleart!"
With a countenance frank and open as the summer sun
when it rises, Richard distributed his thanks around, and
congratulated himself on beingo once more among his
royal brethren of the crusades.
" Some brief words he desired to say," such was his
address to tlle assembly, " though on a subject so unworthy as himself, even at the risk of delaying for a few
minutes their consultations for the weal of Christendom,
and advancement of their holy enterprize."
The asselnbled princes resumed their seats, and there
was a profound silence.
" This day," continued the King of England, " is a
high festival of the Church; and well becomes it Christian men, at such a tide, to reconcile themselves with
their brethren, and confess their faults to each other.
Noble princes, and fathers of this holy expedition, Richard is a soldier-his hand is ever readier than his tongue
-and his tongue is but too much used to tile rough
language of his trade.  But do not, for Plantagenet's
hasty speeches and ill-considered actions, forsake the
noble cause of the redemption of Palestine-do not throw
away earthly renown and eternal salvation, to be won
here if ever they can be won by man, because the act
of a soldier may have been hasty, and his speech as hard
as the iron which he has worn from  childhood.  Is
Richard in default to any of you, Richard will make
compensation botll by word and action.-Noble brothei,af France, have 1 been so unlucky as to offend you P'
Vo [.,!!r




234          TALES OF THlE CRUSADEIRS.
" The Majesty of France has no atonement to seJk
frrom that of England," answered Philip, with klingly dci,.
nity, accepttillg at the same  tilme tile offered hland olf' Ql ihard; " and whatever opinion I nmay adopt concerning
tble prosecution of this e}terprize, wvill depetnd on ireasons
aiising out of the state of my own kingdom, certainly
on no jealousy or disgust at my royal and most valorous
brother."'.tlustria," said Richard, walking up to the Arch-DUlke
with a mnixture of fiankness and dignity, while Leopold
arose frirn his seat, as if' involuntarily, iand with the action
of an1 automaton, whose motions depended upon some
external inmpulse,-" Austria thinks lie hath reason to be
offended with England; England that lie hath cause to
conmplain of Austria.   Let thetn exchange forgiveness,
that the peace of Europe, and the concord of this host,
mlay remain unbroken.  WVe are now joint supporters of
a more glorious banner than ever blazed before an earthly
prince, even the Banner of Salvation-let not, tlherefore,
strife be betwixt us, for the symbol of our more worldly
dignities; but let Leopold restore the pennon of England, if lie has it in his power, alid Richaro will say,
though from  no motive save his love for Holy Churlch,
that lie repents him  of the hlasty mood in which he did
instllt tlle standard of Austria."
The Arch-Duke stood still, sullen and discontented,
with his eyes fixed on the floor, and his countenance
lowering with smothered displeasure, which awe, mingled
with awkwardness, prevented his giving vent to in words.
The Patriarch of Jeriusalem hastened to break the embarrassing silence, and to bear witness for the Arch-Dluke
of Austria, that he had exculpated hiiimself;, by a solemnn
oatli, from  all knowle(dge, direct or indirect, of the agcIessiOnl doine to the Banner of England.
" Tlen we have done tile noble Arch-Duke the greater
wrong," said Richard; " and craving his pardon for
Imnputilg to hlim an outrage so cowardly, we extend our
iland to Thin in token of renewed peace and amity. — llut
hiow As this?  Austria refuses our uncovered hand, as




THE TALISMAN.                    235
tie formerly refused our mailed glove? What! are we
neither to be his mlate in peace, nor lhis antagonist in war?
Well, let it be so.  We will take the slighlt esteem  in
wvhiclh lie holds us, as a penance for aught which we may
have (lone against hlim in hleat of blood, and will, therefore, hold the account between us cleared."
So saying, hle  turned firom the Arch-Duke with, an
air rather of dignity than scorn, leaving the Austrian apparently as maucllh relieved by the removal of his eye,
as is a sullen and truant school-boy when the glance of
his severe pedagogue is withdrawn.
"Noble Earl of Champagne-princely  Marquis of
AMontserrat —valiant Grand Alaster of the Templars —I
am hlere a penitent in the confessional —Do  any  of you
brin, a charge, or claim amends from re?"
" I know not on what we could ground any," said the
smooth-tongued Conrade, " unless it were that the Kiilg
of England carries off from his poo01 brothers of tile  var
all the fame whicli they might have hoped to gain in the
expedition."
" My charge,-if I am  called on to make one,"  said
the Master of the Templars, " is graver and deeper'than
that of the Marquis of Montserrat.  It may be thought
ill to beseem a military monk such as I, to raise his voice
whilere so imaity noble princes relmain silent; but it concerns
our' Vwhole lOSt, and not least this noble King of England,
that lie should hear froln  some one to llis face tllose
charges, which there are enow to bring against linml in
his absence.  AWe laud and honour tile couLrage and hligh
achievements of the King of England, but we feel aggrieved that lie slhould, on all occasions, seize and maintain a
precedence and superiority over us, whicll it becomes not
independent princes to sutbmit to.  Mluch we migllt yield
of our free will to his bravery, his zeal, his wealtll, and
his power; but lie whvo snatches all as matter of right,
and lea'ves nothing to grant out of courtesy and favro1ur,
degrades ts frio:n allies into retainers and vassals, alnd
sullies, in the eyes of our soldiers and slubjects, tile lulstre
of otlr authority, which is no longer independently exer



2:;6'TA- LES OF THE CR USADERS.
cised.  Since tle royal Richard has asked the ti.thi fiomn
us, lie must neither be strprised nor angry when lihe
hears one, to whom  worldly pomnp is prohibite(d, and
secular authority is notliing, saving so far as it advances
the prosperity of God's Temple, and the prostration of
the lion which goeth about seeking whom lie nmay devour
— when le hears, I say, such a one as I tell him  tlhe
truth in reply to his question; whllich ttrutll, even %lwhile I
speakl it, is, I know, confirmed by the heart of every
one who hears me, however respect may stifle their
voices."
Ricllard coloured very higlhly whllile thle Grand Mastel
was making this direct and unvarnishledt attack upon his
ccnduct, and the murmur of assent which followed it
slhowed plainly, that almnost all who were present acquiecced in thle justice of the accusation.   Incensed, and
at the same timne mortified, he yet foresaw that to give
way to his headlong resentment, would be to give the
cold and wary accuser the advantage over him  which it
was the Templar's principle object to obtain.  He, therefore, xvith a stirong  effort, remainedl silent till he had relJeatt d a pater nostern, being the course which his confessor had enjoined him to piulrsule, when anger was likely
to obtain dominion over him.   The King then spoke
with composure, though not without.tn embittered tone,
especially at the outset.
" And is it even so?  And are our brethren at such
pains to note the infirmities of our natural temper, and
tie rough precipitance of our zeal, which may sometimes
have urged us to issue commllands when there was little
time to hold council?  I could not have thouglht that
offiences, castlal and unpremeditated like mine, could find
stich deep root in the hearts of my allies in tllis most
holy  cause, tlhat for my sake they slhould witldraw their
hland fiomi tile i)lotighl when tile ftirrow v as near the end;
for my sake turn aside from the direct patll to,Jerulsale]m,
whlichl their svords hlave opened.  I vainly thought tllat
ny small services milght hlave outweighied my rash el ors
-that if it were remnem-bered that 1 pressed to the van,




THE TALISMANn.                  223
n an assatult, it would not be forgotten that I was evei
the last in the retreat-that, if I elevated my banner
upon conquered fields of battle, it was all the advantage
that 1 sought, while others were dividing the spoil.  I
may lhave called the conquered city by my name, but it
was to others that I yielded the dominion.  If I have
been headstrong in urging bold counsels, 1 have not, methinks, spared my own blood or my people's, in carrying
them into as bold execution — or if I have, in the huirry
of march or battle, assumed a command over the soldiers of others, such haive been ever treated as nmy own,
when my wealth p1urchased the provisions and medicines
which their own sovereigns could not procure.  Bult it
shamrles nme to reimind you of what all but myself seem
to have forgotten. —Let us rather look forward to our
future measures; and believe me, brelhren," he continued, his face kindling with eagerness, " you shall not
find the pride, or the wrath, or the ambition of R:icllard,
a stumbling-block of offence in the patlh to which religion
and glory summon you, as with the trumlnpet of an Archangel.  Oh, no. no! never would I survive the thought,
that my frailties and infirmities had been the means to
sever this goodly fellowship of' assembled princes.   I
would cut off my left hand with my right, could my doing
so attest my sincerity.   I will yield up, voluntarily, all
riglht to command in the host, even mine own liege subiects.   They shall be led by such sovereigns as you
may nominate, and their King, ever but too apt to exchange the leader's baton  for the adventurer's lance,
will serve under the banner of Beau-Seant ainong the
Teruplars —ay, or under that of Austria, if Austria will
name a brave man to lead his forces.   Or, if ye are
yourselves a-weary of this war, and feel your armour
chafe your tender bodies, leave but with Richard some
ten or fifteen thousand of your soldiers to work o',t the
accompllishlment of your vow, and when Zion is won,":
he exclaimed, waving his hand aloft, as if' displayilng
the Standard of the Cross over Jerusalenm —" when Zion
is won, we will write upon her gates 1not the name on




238'ALES OF TIlE CRtUSADERtS
Richard Plantagenet, but of those generous princes who,
in rusted him with the mealns of conquest!"
The rough eloquen,e and determined expression of
the military monarch, at once roused the drooping spirits
of the criusaders, reanimated their devotion, and, fixing
their attention on the principal object of thle expedition,
made most of them  who were present blush for having
been moved by such petty subjects of complaint as had
before engrossed them.  Eye cauglht fire fromm eye, voice
lent courage to voice.  Thley resumed, as with one accord, the war-cry with which tlhe sermon  of' Peter the
Hermit was echoed back, and shouted aloud, " Lead us
onl, gallant Lion's-heart-none so wsorthy to lead where
lbrave men follow.  Lead Ius on-to Jerusalem-to Jerusalem!  It is the will of God-it is the will of God!
Blessed is lie who sllall lend an arm  to its fulfilinent."
The shout. so suddenly  and generally raised, was
heard beyond the ring of sentinels who guarded the pavilion of Council, and spread among the soldiers of the
host, wiho, inactive and dispirited by disease and climate,
had be.gun, like tlleir leaders, to droop in resolution;
but the re-appearance of Richard in renewed vigour, and
tile well-known shouit which echoed from tile assembly
of thle princes, at once rekindled thleir entlhusiasm, and
thou,' ands and tens of thousands answered with the samne
shout of "1 zion, Zion!-War, war! —instant battle with
the infidels! It is the will of God-it is the wvill of God!"
The acclalnations from  withlout increased in their
turn tihe entlhusiasm whllich prevailed within the l)avilion.
Those who did not actually catchl the flame, were afr'aid,
at least fbr the time, to seem colder than others.  There
w-as no more speech except of a proud advance towards
Jerusaleln upon the expiry of tile truce, and the measures
to be taken in tile mneantime for supplying and recruilting
the army.  The council Droke up, all a)pparently filled
ivith th3e same entilltsinstic I)tlr!pose, —wllicl, Iloa ever,.soon faded in the bosom of nost and never had an ex
istence in that of' others.




THiE TALISMAN.                 23.
Of. the latter class were the Marquis Conrade and thi
(irand Master of the Templars, who retired together to
their quarters ill at ease, and ma'econtent with the events
of the day.
" T ever told it to thiee," said the latter, with the cold
sardonic expression peculiar to him, " that Richard
would burst through the flilnsy wiles you spread for him.
as would a lion tlhrough a spider's web.  Thou seest
he has but to speak, and his breath agitates these fickle
fools as easily as the whirlwind catcheth scattered straws,
and sweeps them  together, or disperses them  at its
pleasure."
W" When the blast has passed away," said Conrade,'' the straws, which it made dance to its pipe, will settle to
earth again."
"But know'st thou not besides," said the Templar,
"that it seems, if this new purpose of conquest shall
be abandoned and pass away, and each mighty prince
shall again be left to such guidance as his own scanty
brain can supply, Richard may yet probably become
King of Jerusalemn by compact, and establish those termns
of treaty with the Soldan, which thou thyself thought'st
him so likely to sp}urn at?"
" Now, by Mahound and Termagaunt, for Christian
oaths are out of fashion," said Conrade, " say'st thou
the proud King of England would unite his blood with
a heathen Soldan?-Aiy policy threw in that ingredient
to make the whole treaty an abomination to him.- As
bad for us that he become our master by an agreement.
as by victory."
"Thy policy hath ill calculated Richard's digestion,"
answered the Templar; "I know his mind by a whisper
from the Archbishop. -And then thy master-stroke respecting yonder banner-it has passed off with no more
respect than two cubits of embroidered silk merited
Marquis Conrade, thy wit begins to halt —I wil trust thy
fine-spun measures no longer, but will try my own
Know'st thor. not the people whom the Saracens call
Chare rgtes?5'
890




240        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"Surely," answered the Marquis; "they are despe
rate and besotted enthusiasts, who devote their lives to
the advancement of religion —somewhat like Templars
— only they are never known to pause in the race of their
calling."
"Jest not," answered the scowling  monk; " know,
that one of these men has set down, in his bloody vow,
the name of the Island Emperor yonder, to be hewn
down as the chief enemy of the Moslem faith."
" A most judicious paynim," said Conrade.': May
Mahomet send him his paradise for a reward!"
" He was taken in the camp by one of our squires,
and, in private examination, frankly avowed his fixed and
determined purpose to me;" said the Grand Master.
" Now the heavens pardon them  who prevented the
purpose of this most judicious Charegite!" answered
Conrade.
"He is my prisoner," added the Templar, " and secluded from speech with others, as thou may'st suppose
— but prisons have been broken —"
~" Chains left unlocked, and captives have escaped —'
answered the Marquis.  "It is an ancient saying, no
sure dungeon but the grave."
" WVhen loose he resumes his quest"-continued the
military priest,'" for it is the nature of this sort of bloodhound never to quit the slot of the prey he has once scented."
" Say no more of it,"' said the Marquis; "I see thy
policy —it is dreadful, but the emergency is imminent.":' I only told thee of it," said the Templar, " that thou
mayst keep thyself on thy guard, for the uproar will be
dreadful, and there is no knowing on whom the English
may vent tl eir rage —Ay, and there is another risk-my
page knows the counsels of this Charegite," he continued;
" and moreover, he is a peevish, self-willed fool, xwhom 1
woqld I were rid of, as he thwarts me by presuming to
see wvth his own eyes, not mine.  But our holy Ordler
gives me power to put a remedy to such inconvenience
Or stay-the Saracen may find a good dagger in his cell.
and I warrant youl he uses it as he breaks forth. Nhicb




THIE TALISMAN.                    24)
will be of a surety so soon as the page enters with hi,
food.
" It will give the affair a colour," said Conrade;' ano
vet —"
" Yet and but," said the Templar, " are words fot
tools —wise men neither hesitate nor retract —they resolve
and they execute."'
CHAPTER XX.
When beautx leads the lion in her toils,
Such are her charnms, lie dare not raise his mane,
Far less expand the terror of' his fthngs.
So great Alcides Inade his club a tlistaff,
And spln to pllease fair OIlphlali.-~Anonymeous.
RICHARD, tle uInsuspicious  object of the dark treachcry detailed in the closing part of the last chapter, having
effected, for the present at least, the triumphant union oi
the crusading princes, in a resolution to prosecute the
war with vigour, had it next at heart to establish tranquillity in hlis owvn famrily); and now tllat le could judge
niore temperately, to inquire distinctly into the circumstances leading to the loss of his banner, and tlle.nature
and t-e extent of the connexion  betwixt his kinswoman
Editli, and the banislled adventurer fiom Scotland.
Accordingly, tlle Queen and her lhouseliold were startled with a visit from Sir Thomas de Vaux, requesting the
present attendance of the Lady Calista of Montfaucon,
the Queen's principal bower-woman, uipon King Richard.
"' What am I to say, madam?" said the trembling attendant to thle Queen.  " He will slay us all."
"Nay, fear not, madam," said De Vaux.    " HIis
Majesty hath spared tlle lile of the Scottishl knighlt, wht c
was the cliief offender, and  bestowed him  upon the
5Moorish p)hysician —hle will not be seN ere upon a lady
though faulty."' Devise some cunning tale, wench," said Berengaria.
VOL. II.




242        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
" My husband hath too little time to make inqu ry intc
the truth."'
" T'ell the tale as it really happened," said Edith,
"lest I tell it for thee."
"With humble permission of her majesty," said De
Vaux, "I would say Lady Edith adviseth well; bor
althougli King Richard is pleased to believe what it pleases
your Grace to tell him, yet I doubt his having the same
deference for the Lady Calista, and in this especial
matter."
" The Lord of Gilsland is riglt," said the Lady Ca
lista, much agitated at thethoughts of the investigationr
which was to take place; " and, besides, if I had presence of mind enough to forge a plausible story, beshrew
me if I think I should have the courage to tell it."
In this candid humour, the Lady Calista was conduct
ed by De Vaux to the King, and made, as she had
proposed, a full confession of the decoy by which the
unfortunate Knight of the Leopard had been induced to
desert his post; exculpating the Lady Edith, who, she
was aware, would not fail to exculpate herself, and
laying the full burden on the Queen her mistress, whose
share of the frolic, she well knew, would appear the
most venial in the eyes of Coeur de Lion.  In truth,
Richard was a fond-almost an uxorious husband.  The
first burst of his wrath had long since passed away, and
he was not disposed severely to censure what could not
now be amended. The wily Lady Calista, accustomed
from  her earliest childhood to fathom the intrigues of a
court, and watch the indications of a sovereign's will,
hastened back to the Queen with the speed of a lapwing,
charged with the King's commands that she should expect a speedy visit froi~h him; to which the bower-lady
added a commentary founded on her own observation.
tending to show that Richard meant just to preserve so
nm ich severity as might bring his royal consort to repent
of her fiolic, and then to extend to her, and all ce-ncern
ed, his gracious pardon.




THE TAISMAN.                  243
"6 Sits the wind in that corner, wench?"' said the
Queen, much relieved by this intelligence; " believe
me that, great commander as he is, Rtichatrd will find it
hard to circumvent us in this matter; and tiiat, as the
Pyrenean shepherds are wont to say ill my native Navarre
many a one comes for wool, and goes back shorn."
Having possessed herself of all the information which
Calista could communicate, the royal Berengaria arrayed
herself in her most becoming dress, and awaited with
confidence the arrival of the heroic Richard.
He arrived, and found himself in the situation of a
prince entering an offending  province, in the confidence
that his business will only be to inflict rebuke, and
receive submission, when he unexpeetedly finds it in a
state of' complete defiance and insurrection.  Berengaria
well knew the power of her charms, and the extent oI
Richard's affection, and felt assured that she could make
her own terms good, now that the first tremendous explosion of his anger had expended itself without mischief.
Far from listening to the King's intended rebuke, as what
the levity of her conduct had justly deserved, she extenuated, nay defended, as a harmless firolic, that which she
was accused of.  She denied, indeed, with many a
pretty form of negation, that she had directed Nectabanus absolutely to entice the knight farther than the brink
of the Mount on which he kept watch-and indeed this
was so far true, that she had not designed Sir Kenneth
to be introduced into her tent,-and then, eloquent in
urging he, own defence, the Queen was far more so in
pressing upon Richard the charge of unkindness, in refusing her so poor a boon as the life of an unfortunate
kni ht, who, by her thoughtless prank, had been brought
within the danger of martial law. She wept and sobbed
while she enlarged,an her husband's obduracy on this
score, as a rigour which had threatened to make her unhappy for life, whenever she should reflect that she had
given, unthinkingly, the remote cause fc: such a tragedy.'Tlle vision of the slaughtered victim would have haunted
her dreams — nay, for aught she knew, since such things




244          TALES OF TIlE CRUSADEIIS.
often happened, hlis actual spectre might have stood by
her wakilng coLuch.  To all this misery of the mind, was
she exposed by tie severity of' one, who, whllile lie pietended to dote upon hler slightest glance, would not foinego
one act of poor revenge, though the issue Nwas to render
her miserable.
All this flow  of female eloquence was acconpaniled
wvith tile usual arguments of tears and siglhs, and uttered
with such tone and action, as seemed to show  that the
Queen's resentment arose neither firom pride nor sullenness, but fiom feelings llurt at finding lier conseqtuence
with hier husband less tlhan she liad expected to possess.
The good King L iclialrd was considerably clnbarr assed.
He trietl in vain to reason with one whose very jealousy
of his affection rendered hler incapable of listening to
argumlent, nor could lie bring himiself to use the restraint
of avtiul authoritv to a creature so beautiful in the midst
of her unreasonable displeasure.  He was, therefore, reduced to the defensive, endeavoured gently to chide hler
suspicions and soothe her (lispleasulre, and recalled to
ler nmind that shle nee(l not look back upon the past with
recollections either of remorse or supernatural fear, since
Sir Kenneth was alive and well, and 1had been bestowed
by hlim upon tile great Arabian physician, who, doubtless
of' all men, knew best how to keep him living.  But this
seemed tlie unkindest cut of all, aid the Queen's sorrow
was renewed at the idea of a Siaracen- a rnediciner-obtaining a boon, for whichl, with bare head and on benlded knee, she had petitioned hler husband in vain.  At this
new clharge Richard's patience began ratlier to give
way; and he said in a serious tone of voice,'" Berengaria, the physician saved my life.  If it is of value in
youlr eyes, yotu will not grudge   lilm a ]ligilee recompence
thail  tile only one I could prevail on him to accept."
Tile Quteen wvas satisfied she had urgetd her coquettish
disple(sture to tile ve rge of safety.
" IMy Ricliard," sie said,'" why broughlt you not that
sage to Ine, that England's Qucen mlight show how sihe
esteemed hium, who could save froom extinction the lampF




TIlE TAlISXI1AN.                24 
of chivalry, the glory of' England, and thle light of poor
Berengaria's life and hope?"
In a word, the matrimonial dispute was ended; but,
tliat some penalty might be paid to justice, both King
and Queen accorded in laying tile whole blame on the
agent Nectabanus, who, (the Queen being by this time well
weary of the poor dwarf's humour) was, with hi's royal consort Guenevla, sentenced to be banished from the court:
arid the unlucky dwarf only escaped a supplementary whipping, from the Queen's assurances that he had already
sustained  personal chastisement.  It was decreed farther, that as an envoy was shortly to be despatched to
Saladin, acquainting him with the resolution of the council to resume hostilities so soon as the truce was ended,
and as Richard proposed to send. a valuable present to
the Soldan, in acknowledgment of the high benefit he
had derived from  the services of E1 Hakim, tile two
unhappy creatures should be added to it as curiosities,
which, from their extremely grotesque appearance, and
the shattered state of their intellect, were gifts that mnight
well pass between sovereign and sovereign.
Richard had that day yet another female encounter
to sustain; but he advanced to it with comparative indifference, for Edith, though beautiful, and highly esteeme-d by her royal relative-nay, although she had from his
unjust suspicions actually sustained the injury of'which
Berengaria only affected to complain, still was neither
Richard's wife nor mistress, and he feared her reproaches less, although founded in reason, than those of the
Queen, though unjust and fantastical.  Having requested
to speak with her apart, he was ushered into her apartment, adjoining that of the Queen, whose two female
Coptish slaves remained on their knees in the most remote corner, during the interview.   A  thin black veil
extended its ample folds over the tall and gracefulfotrm
of  the  higoh-born maiden, and she wore not upon her
person any female ornament of what kind soever.  She
arose and made a low reverence when Richard entered
28 VOL. It.




?2 6        TALE.ES OF THEI  C1IUSADIR.tS.
r';cumed lher seat at his command, and, when ne sat
liown tbeside bler, waited, without uttering a syllable, until
h1i: should cortnanr icate his pleasure.
Richard, whose custom  it was to be  familiar with
LEdith, as their relationship authorized, felt this reception
clilling, and opened the conversation with some embarrassmlent.
" Our fair cousin," he at length said, " is angry with
us; and we own that strong circumstances have induced
us, without cause, to suspect her of conduct alien to what
we have ever known in her course of life.  But while
we walk in this misty valley of humanity, men will mnistake shadows for substances.   Can my fair cousin not
forgive her somewhat vehement kinsman, Richard?9'
"   ho can reftuse forgiveness to Richard," answered
Edith, "providing Richard can obtain  pardon of the
Jiinog'9"
"Come, my kinswoman," replied Cceur de Lion,' this is all too solemn.  By Our Lady, such a melancholy countenance, and  this  ample sable veil might
make men think thou'wert a new-made widow, or had lost
a betrothed lover, at least.  Cheer up-thou hast heard
doubtless that there is no real cause for woe —why then
keep up the form of mourning?"
For the departed honour of Plantagenet-for the
giory which llath left my father's house."
Richard frowned.-" Departed honour! glory which
hath left our house!" -he repeated, angrily; " bhlt my
cousin Edith is privileged.  I have judged her too hastily, she has therefore a riiglit to deem of me too harshly.
But tell Tne at least in what I have faulted."
"Plantatenet," said Edith, " should have either pardroned aln offence, or lpunislled it.  It misbecomes him
to assign friee inellr, Ch}ristians, and brave knights, to the
feteles of thle iiidiels.  It becomes him not to comprorrise and barter, or to grant life under the forfeiture of
libertt.  To have doomed the unfortunate to death might
have bhen severity, but had a show of justice; to coniletlnl hii  to slavery and exile, was barefaced tyranny."




THlS  TA'1LSMAN.                     247'I see, nmy fair cotlsilln," said Richlfard,' ryou ai e of,hose pretty ones wh}o tlink:an ablsenlt lover as bad as
none, or as a dlemal' otle.  Be patiellt; btali a score of
li;-ht horsemel n  ma) y!et follow ancl  redleehl the error,
ifthy gallant have in keepting any secret  whlich l nigllt ren-.der his death more convenienrt than hlis banishment."
"' Peace with  thy  scurril jests!"  anlswreded Edith,
colouring  (leely-' " Think rather, that, for tile indulgence of thy mood, thou hast lopped froin this great enterprize onie goodly limb, deprived  the Cross of one of
its most brave stil)porters, and placed a servant of the
true God in the blandis of the leatlen; lhast given, too,
to ininds as SUSplicio    s s as thou hast shown tllilne own in
this matter, somice right to say thlat Richard. C(eur de
Lion banished the bravest soldier in his camp, lest his
namle in battle might,match his own."
I-I!"  exclaimed  Richard, now  in(leedt  greatly
moved-" am I one to be jealous of renown?-1 would
he were here to profess such an equality! 1 would wave
my rank and my crown, and lneet him, manlike, in the
lists, that it might appear whetiher Richard Plantagenlet
had room  to fear or to envy tihe }r)owess of mortal mlalln.
Come, Edith, thou think'st not as tlhou sav'st.  Let not
anger or grief for the absence of thiy lover, make thlee
uniust to  thy  kinsman, whlo, notwithlstandling, zll tliy
tetchiness, values thy goodc rciort as high as that of any
one living."
"'he absence of my lover?" said the Ladly  E(lith.' But yes —le mnany be well tcrmcd l'nC   l(over,  hllo lalth
paid so dear for thie title.  Unworthyi as I mnigaht be oi
such homage, I          wxas to him like a liglht, Ieat(lig him forward in the noble path of chivalry; btit that I forgot
mr rank, or tlhat he presumi d beyond his, is false, were
a kting to speak it."
" My fair cousin," said Richard, " do not pi.t words
in my moutth which 1 have not spoken.  I said  not you
hat graced  thlis mnan beyond the favour wh!icht a goo
kn.i'ght may earn, even  from  a princess. wh:lntever be
ris native condition.  Bu1t, by Our Lady, I kirio"x som!e



~248          TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
thing of this love-gear-it l)egins withl mute l espect, and
distanit revereneee; tbut, when optl))1 tunities occur, famil1
larity increases, anrd so-.Iut it skills not talking with
one willo thlinks herself wiser tlial all the vorld(."
M yI}' kinsman's counsels 1. willingly  listen to, when
they are such," said Edith, " as convey no insult to my
ranlki andt character."
" Kings, myn fair cousin, do not counsel, but rather
commiand," sail Richard.
"Sollans (lo in(leed coimrand," said Edith, " but it
is because they have slaves to govern."
CoIme,'yoI mighit le arn to lay asid(le tis scorn of Solda.rrie, whenl you llold so hiigl of a Scot," said the King.
" I holl Saladtil to 1)e trtler to hlis vwoid than this William
of Scotland, wlio Imust neteds  e catiled a Lion, forsooth
-lle lhatli foullyr ilultedt towarvds me, in failing to send
thle aulxiliary aid lie j)roliised.  Let me tell thee, Edith,
thlou inay'st live to prefer a true Tulk to a false Scot."
" N —no ever!" answered Edit-l'L not should Rich.arid Jlimself cml:brace tile false religion, which he crossed
the seas to expiel fron-'i Palestine."
"L Tllou wilt hlave tile last word," said Richard, " and
thou shalt lhave it.  Even tlink of me what thou wilt,
pretty Editll.  I shall not forget thiat we are near and
dear cousins."
So saying, hc took hlis leave in fair fashion, but very
little satisfied  itlh the Iresult of his visit.
It was the fourth (lay after Sir Ieilletll had been dismissed liomn the carnol)  aid KRing lichlard sat in his pavilion, enjoying au evening  breeze from the west, which,
with unusIua l   coolless oii her wings, see(-lled  breathed
from merry England for tle refreshllment of her adventurous monarch, as hie was gradually recoverig tlhe fiill
strength which was necessary to carry on his gigantic
pro(jects.  There was no one with himl, De Vaux Ihaving
been sent to Ascalon to bring  ui reinforcements and( sup)plies of military munition, and most of lhis other attendants being occupied in different departments, all preparia' fobr the re ~:pe.ini cof hostilities, and lbr a grand pre'




V''1I'l TA LISMA. N.                     2 49
paratory reviecw  of the army of thle crusadfers, which was
to taiae tplace  thie  next day.  Thle King sat, listeninl  to
tile blsy htmnm among  tlhe  soldlicry, tile eclatter from  thle
forges, whe-!re horse-shoes were lere),paing, an(d fromt tile
tents of tile  ar-nouirers, who were  1rcl;pairing,   harnessthe voicee of the soldiers too, as triley l)ass        tl and repassed, was lmld.l and  cheerful, carryinlg   witli its very tone
an assurance of lhighl and excitedl couaLag -t,   anId an omen
of' app;roaching victory.   White  Ricllar(l's ear dr'ank in
these  sounds witll deligllt, and  wllile he yieldted llilnself
to  h}le visions of concltuest and of glory whlicll they  sulggestecl, an equlerry  told him  tllhat a  llessenglr from  Sal.adcin waited Awitlout.'' Admit liml  ilnstantly," said tlle King, 1' atl withl  due
honour, Joselifie."
Th1e Eng lis' l  lkniglit accordtingly inltrodllcedl a  )e,.son,
apptarently of no  lighle  ralnk tllhan a Ntbian slave, wlhose
appeala llce was nevertlieless lligllly intertesting.     HIe \as
of superb stature and no01)13) formned, a(il his comnlandiigI
fe.atuires, althlougll alnmost jet-black, sliowed cl  lolilig of
ie.rrto desceiit.  lie worie over his coal-lac k loc ks a
m.i!-white turllan, and over lis slhouldeil. a. shloi't mnantle
(' the samIe colo()tr, open in front and at tlhe sleeves, under
wlich aplp ealiedl  a tlottI)let of (iressel let)opard's skin reachin  w tlitin  a'han(l-breadtli of tlie  knllee.'Thle rest of
hIis mnuscuiar lillbs; both} jeg s andg aruis, were lane,  exce. t'ng  thiat }be la(l san(a.lls ol hllis feet, and wore a co(llar:ind  bracelets of silver.   A straighlt broatl        sxw-lord, xvitli a
I;andlle of boxwood, and a slheathf covere(l witl! snake-slkin,
was sus;pended  fi'om  hlis waist.  In his riglht lland  lie
leld   a slort jav eliin, wit]h a broad, 1briighlt, steel head of
a span in lengti, iand  in hlis left fle led, by  a leash  of
twisted silk an'd   old. a har-ge an;l noeble stagllond.
Tl_.e inessenger pIrostrated hiimnsell;  at thle sanie lime.artiiallv   uncoveiintg his sioulIdes,   in sigo- of i' tlniliation,
anr.;'l JIaviung toticlhie   tihe ealtl  witlh lis forel(clt, adar(ose so
falr; as to re-st on onie knee, while lie deflixeredl to the Kiig
a si!ke,! n;itpkil, e:'closilng another of cloth of' g-old, within
which  wvas a letter fioomn-  Saladin in thle oriii,al Arabic




250          TALES OF THE C-RUSADERS.
with a translation into Norman-English, which s'ay bt
mlodernlize  thuis:
"Saladil),  King of kings, to Melech Ric, the Lion oi
EgIgland.  Whereas, we are informned by thy last mnessage, that thou hast chlosen war rather than peace, and
our enmity rather than our friendship, we account thee
as one blinded in this matter, and trust shortly to convince thee of thine error, by the help of our invincible
orces of the thousand  tribes, when Mohammed, the
Prophet of God, and Allah, the God of the Prophet, shaI)
jutlge the controversy betwixt us.  In what remains.
we make noble account of thee, and of the gifts which
thou hlast sent us, and of the two dwarfs, singular in
their defornity as Ysop, and mirthful as the lute of Isaack.
A id in re(luital of these tokens fromn the treasure-house
of thy boutnty, behold we have sent thee a Nubian slave,
nametd Zolhalk, of whom judge not by his complexion,
according to the foolish ones of the earth, in respect
the dark-rinded firuit hath the most exquisite- flavour.
Knosw tha t he is strong  to execute the will of his mastelr, las  ustan of Zablestan; also he is wise to give council rwhen tlhout shalt learn to hold conmmunicatioli with
himr, for the L[,ord of Speecll hath been stricken with
silec. e betwixt the ivory walls of his palace.' We commend Ilim to thy care, hoping thle hour may not be distant when lie may rellder thee good service.  And herewitlh we bid thee farewell; trusting that our most holy
Prophet rn'ay yet call tliee to a sight of the truth, failing
which illumination, our desire is, for the speedy restoration of thy royal health, that Allah may judge between
lhee and us in a )lain field of battle."
And the missive wa.- sanctioned by the signature and
seal oft' the Soldan.
Richard sutrveyed the Nubian in silence as he stood
before hiln, his Icoks bent upon the grotin., his arms
folded on his bosom,  with the appearance of a. black
marble statue of the rIost exquisite workmanship, waitinog life from  tlfe toulch ol a Prometheus.  The K;in
of England,  wlo, as it was mphatic ally sail  f his suc



THE TALISMIAN.                 2&5
cessor Henry the Eighth, loved to lok u1on A MAN
was well pleasedl with the thewes, sinews, and symnMetry
of him whom  he now surveyed, and questioned him  in
the Lingua Franca, " Art thou a pagan?"
The slave shook his head, and raising his finger to his
brow, crossed- himself in token of his Christianity, then
resumed his posture of motionless humility.
" A Nubian Christian, doubtless," said Richard, " and
mutilated of the organl of speech by these heathen dogs?"
The mute again slowly shook his head, in token of
negative, pointed with his fore-finger to Heaven, and then
laid it upon his own lips.
"I understand thee," said Richard; " thou dost suffer under the infliction of God, not by the cruelty o.
man.  Canst thou clean an armour and belt, and buckle
it in time of need?"
The mute nodded, and stepping towards the coat ol
mail, which hung with the shield and helmet of the
chivalrous Monarch, upon the pillar of the tent, he handled it with such nicety of address, as sufficiently to show
that he fully understood the business of the armourbearer.
" Thou art an apt, and Will doubtless be a  useful
knave-thou shalt wait in my chamber, and on my person," said the King, " to show how much I value the
gift of the royal Soldan.  If thou hast no tongue, it follows thou canst carry no tales, neither provoke me to be
suldden by any unfit reply."'
The Nubian again  prostrated himself till his brow
touched the earth, then stood erect, at some paces distant, as waiting for his new master's commnands.
"Nay, thou shalt commence thy office presently," said
Richard, " for I see a speck of rust darkening on that
sllield; and when I shake it in the face of Saladin, it
should be bright and unsullied as the Soldan's honour
and mine own."
A horn was winded without, and presently Sir Henry
Neville entered with a packet of despatches.-" Fromn
England, my lord." he said, as- he delivered it..




252          TALES OF TIMI CRUJSADERS.
"From England —our own England!" repeatt d Richaird, in a tone of inelancholy enthusiasl —' Alas! tle)y
I!ttle tllink how hard tleir sovere-ign IIas been beset by
sickness and sorrow —f-aint fr'iends and forward enenmies."'
Tllen opening the despatchiles, lie said, hastily, " Ha 
this comes firom  no l)eacefi'l landl —lley too lave their
feuds. —Neville, begone —l must peiruse these tidings
alone, and at leisure."'
Neville \vithdrew accordingly, and Richard was soon
absorbed in tle Inelancholy details whllich had been conveyed to him firom England, concerning the factions that
were tearing to pieces his native domninions-the disunion of his brotlhers, John and Geoffriey, and the quarroels
of both with the High Justiciary Longcllamp, Bishop ot
Ely, —the oppressions practised by the nobles upon the
peasantry, and rebellion of the latter against their masters, which lhad produced everywhere scenes of discord,
and in some instances the effilsion of blood.  Details of
inci(lents mortifying to llis pride, and derogatory from
his authority, were intermingled with the earnest advice
ef his wvisest and most attached, counsellors, tlhat ihe
should presently return to England, as his presence oflbred thle only hope of saving thle kingdom fiomn all the horrors of civil discord, of' which France and Scotland were
likel7 to avail themselves.  Filled witlh tle most painlii
anxiety, IRichacrd read, and again read, tile ill-omnened
letters, complared the intelligence which some of' tllem
contained with the same.acts as differently stated in others, and soon became totally insensible to wliatever  was
passing around himn althoulgh seanted, for the sake  of
coolness, close to -the entrance of his tent, and having ihe
curtains withdrawn, so that lie could see and be seen by
the guards a-rc others who were stationed witlhout.
Deeper in thle slhadow of tile pavilion, and busied xwith
tle task }his new inaster had i1lmposed, sat tile NuthiJtn
slave, with his back rather turned towards tlle King.  lie
had finished adjusting and cleaning the lhauberk and brigandine, and was now busily employed on a broad pavesse,
or buckler, of unusual size, and covered with steel-plating




THE TALIS'IA N.-                 2 D
lhiich Richard often used in reconnoitering, or atually
storming fortified places, as a more effectual protection
aainst missile weapons, than the narrow triangular shield,Iscd on horseback.  This p-avesse bore neither the roy!al
lions of England, nor any other device, to attract ilie
observation of the defenders of the wvalls against wllichi
it was advanced; the care, therefore, of the armourer
was addressed to causing its surface to shine as bri(rllt as
crystal, in which he seemeid to be peculiarly successful.
Beyond the Nubian, and scarce visible from witholt, lay
the large dog, which miglht be termed his brother slave,
and which, as if he felt awed by being transferred to a
royal owner, was couched close to the side of the mute,
with head and ears on the ground, and his limbs and tail
drawn close around and under hiln.
While the Monarch and his new  attendant were thus
occupied, another actor crept upon the scene, and mingled among the group of English yeomen, about a score
of whom, respecting the unusually jpensive posture and
close occupation  of their sovereign, were, contrary to
their wvont, keeping a silent ga:rud in front of his tent.  It
was not, however, more vigilant than usual.  Some were
playing at games of hazard with small pebbles, others
spoke together in whispers of the approachling day of
battle, and several lay asleep, their bulky limnbs folded in
their green mantles.
Amid these careless warders glided the puny form of
a little old Tllrk, poorly dressed like a marabout or santon of the desert, a sort of ientlhusiast, who sometimnes
ventured into the camp of the crusaders, thouglh treated
always with contumely, and often withl violence.  Indeed, the luxury and profligate inldulgence of the Cllristian leaders had occasioned a motley concoulrse ill tileir
tents of musicians, courtezans, Jewish nmerclhant.;, (Copts,
Turks, and all the varied refu se of the Eastern llnatiinls.
so that the caftan and turban, though to drive bth fror.
the HJoly Land was the professed object of tile expedition, were nevertheless neither an  uncommon nor an
VOL. II.




254          TA.LES OF THE CRUSADERS.
alarming sight in the camp of the crusaders    Ilhen,
how eve r, the little insignificant figure we have described
alproaclled so nigh as to receive sonme interruption from
tIle wxariders. lie dashed his dusky areen turban fiomi his
bhead. showedl that his beard and eyebrows were shaved
like tllose of a professed buffoon, and that the expression of his fantastic and writhen features, as well as of
his little black eyes, which glittered lilke jet, was that of
a crazed imagination.
)ance, marabout,"  cried the soldiers, acquainted
with tile  manners of these  wandelring  enthusiasts" dance, or we will scourge tlee with ou  bow-stringss,
till thou spin as never top did under school-boy's lash."Thus shouted the reckless warders, as niuch delighted
at Iiavin, a subject to teaze, as a child when lie catches
a butterfly, or a school-boy upon discovering a bird's nest.
The marabout, as if happy to do their behests, bounded fron the earth, and spun his giddy round before them
with  singular agility, which, when contrasted  with his
slight and wasted figure, and  diminutive  appearance,
made him  resemble a withered leaf twirled round and
around at the pleasure of the winter's breeze.  His single lock of hair streamed upwards from  his bald and
shaven head, as if sonme genii upheld him  by it; and
indeed it seemed as if supernatural art were necessary
to the execution of the wild whirling dance, in which
scarce the tiptoe of the performer was seen to touch! the
ground.  Am lid tlle vagaries of his performance, he flew
here and there, froom one spot to another, still approaching, however, thoulgh almost imnlerceptibly, to the entrance of the royal tent; so that, when at length he sunk
exhausted on the earth, after two or three bounds still
higlier than those whllich lie had yet executed, b-e swas
not above thirty yards firom the King's person.
" G(ive.him water," said one yeollan;;  they always
crave a drink after their mnerry-go-rountld."
Alha, water, say'st thou, Long Allen? —" exclammnea
anolther archer, with a most scornfull emphasis on the
de.:s)ised element; "how  wouldst like- such beverage
thvsel f. afite'r otl(.,l a   lmicte idanelini,?




THE TATISMAN. 
"The devil a water-drop he gets here,': said a third.
We will teach the light-footed old infidel o be a good
tChristian, and drink wine of Cyprus."
" Ay, ay," said a fourthi; " and in case he be r estive,
fetch thou Dick Hunter's horn, that he drench.,es his,na;'e withal."
A circle w\ias instantly  formed aloillnd the prostrate.and exhausted l ervise, and while one tall yeornan -aised
his feeble formn from  the.ground, another presenoed to
nirn a huge flagon of wine.  Incapable of speech, the
old man shook his head. and waved away from ninr,
with his hand the liquor fobrbidden by the prophet' but
his tormentors were not thus to be appeased.
"The horn, the horn!" exclaimed  one.   " Littie
difference  between a Turk and a Turkish horse, and we
will use him conforming."
" By Saint George, you will choke him!" said Lonr
Alleni; " and, besides, it is a sin to throw  away upon a
heathen dog as much wine as would serve a good Christian fior a treble night-cap."
Thou know'st not the  iature of these Turks and
pagans, Long Allen," replied Henry Woodstall; " I tell
thee, man, that this flagon of Cyprus will set his brains
a-spinning, just in the opposite direction that they went
whirling in the dancing, and so bring him, as it were
to himself again.  Chokel? he will no more choke on
it than L)en's black bitch! on the pound of butter."
" lAnd for griudg;ng it," said Toinalin Blacklees,'" why
should'st tihou  idedc  the poor paynimn-devil a drop of
drink  on earth, siee rti-uc know'st he is not to have d
drop to cool ftle tiF of his tongue throug.h a long eternity."
T Trit werte hard laws, look  ye," said Long Allen4' only for being a Turk, as his father was before him.
Had he beern Christian tulned heathen, I grant ye the
nottest cor-er had been good wirter quarters for liln."
" Iold thy peace, Long Adlenl,  said Henry Woodstall; 6 [ tell thee that tongue of tl'irne is not the slhortest limb about thee, and I prophesy -that it will bringf,
thee;nto disgrace with father Francis, as once abouit the
801




5~'TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
nlack-eyed Syrian wench. —But here comes tile horn
-Be active a bit, man, wilt thou, and just force open
his teeth with' the haft of thy dudgeon-dagger."' Hoii. hold-he is conformable,"  said Tomalin;' see.:~ee, he signs for the goblet-give him  roornm,
boys.  Oop sey es, quoth the Dutchman —down it goes
like!aric's-wool N! ay, they are true topers when onrce
they Ubg n —your Turk never coughs in his cup, or stinxts
in h.s iiluoril ng."
In fact, the dervise, or whatever he was, drank, or
at least seemed to drink, the large flagon to the very
bottom  at a single pull; and when he took it from his
lips, after the whole contents were exhausted, only uttered,,rith a deep sigh, the words Allah kerim, or God is
fmrerciful'  There was a laugh among the yeomen who
witnessed this pottle-deep potation, so obstreperous, as to.'cuse and disturb the King, who, raising his finger, said,
angrily, "6 How, knaves, no respect, no observance?"
All were at once hushed into silence, well acquainted
witil the temper of Richard, which, at some times, adm-nitted of much military familiarity, and at others exacted
hile most precise respect, although the latter humoour was
of much more rare occurrence.   Hastening to a more
reverent distance from  the royal person, they attempted
to drag along with them the marabout, who, exhlausted
apparently by previous   fatig ue, or overpowered by' the
potent draught lie had just swallowed, resisted be:ng
moved fiom the spot, both withl struggles and groans
"' Leave him  still, ye fools," wIhispered Long Allen
to his mates; " by Saint  Ch1risto)pher, you will llmake
our Dickon go beside himself, and we shall have his (lag
ger presently fly at our costards.   Leave hiimn (alone, in
less than a minute he wi'I sleep 1 like a dormouse."
At the samle mnomi-ent, tle Monarel  tac rted anot.hem
impatient g-lance to the spot, and all retreated inr haste,
leaving tile dervise on the ground, unlable, as it seeitmed,
to stir a single limb or joint of his body.  In a moment
afterward, all was as still and quiet as it had been before
the intrusion.




TinE  ATTISMAN.                          257
C(EtAPTER XXI.
---  and wither'd Murder,
Alarumii'd 1) his seo!tinel, the. wolf..lhos0e howl's his wantc, thlts with his stealthy pace,
Arilth''Tarilln's ravishing stlrides: towards his desig
Moves like a ghIost.
Macbeth.
FOR  the  space  of a  qullarter of an holur, or longer
after the illncitleIt related, all remt ainedl l)iertfctly qu(iet in
the frolt of the rovaIl l alittation.    The'  Killg read, alndl
mlused in tile entance' of his itt'ilion —bellindl, and  with
Iis bacl  tuilted   to thie same   entitl.ce,   the Ntbiatill slave
still btltrnislled  tilte apitple tpavesse-in fit'ont of all, at anl
hulltdred paces distallt, the  yeotlen of tile  gtlartl( stood,
sat, or lay extenttlel   on tlhe,ras.s, atntive to their own
sports, ttut pulirsuillg tllem  in silelnce, viile  oil thle esplla
nade betwixt theii and thel frolt of' tlhe tent, lay, searcely
to be distinlgished  fi)om  a bulndle of' ra's, tile  senseless
forim  of' the inttraltotlt.
But tlle Ntoliat  iat a(I tte advant!age of' a mirror, fio;n
the brLillialt reflettion  which  tle sillrace  of tlhe  ]higlhly
polished shield now  afibrfded, by meanls of' wvlich lie beheld, to hiis Calarm  and surprise, that the inaratl)otIt raised.
his  head  gently  [from   the  grolnd, so  as to  stlrvey  all
aroulld  hint?, rnovini- with  a well-adjttsted   l)recautlion,
wvlich  seemtied  entirelv   inconsistent  witli tlhe  state  o(
hlriety.    I-ie couche(tl    liis lall  insl.antly, as it' satisfied
hle was ulolserved,;antd lbe-an, with tle slighitest possible
appeaurace of voltntary  e tirt, to dlrg lhimisel, as if by
cihance, ever nearer and nearer to the Kiln, but stoppling,
andi reimaining  fixed at intervals, like tle spider, wlhicl
moving towards  ler  o)ject, collapses into apl)arelit lif&
lessness, wllen she tlinks she is tile subject of observation
This species  of movement appeared  suspicious  to  thp
VOL. 1I.




258          TALES OF THE'I  CRUSADE13.
Ethiopian, who, on his part, prepared himself, as quietly
as possible, to interfere, thle instant that interference
should seem to be necessary.
The Inarabout nmeanwhIlile glided on gradually and im.
perceptibly, serpent-like, or rather snail-like, till he was
about ten yards' distance fronl Richard's person, whlen,
starting on his feet, he sprunlg foir\vard with the bounlcd
of a tiger, stood at the King's back in less than an instant,
and brandished aloft the caniar,   o  tponliard, which he
had l idden in his sleeve.  Not thie presence of his whole
ariny could have saved tlleir Iieroic monarch-but the
ino.ions of the Nubialn hlad been as well calculated as
tlhose of' the entlhlsiast, and( ere the latter could strike,
tlhe  folrmelr caught his uplifted artn.  Tilrning llis fanat.
ical wrath upoil lwhat thus ulexxpected(ly interposed betwixt Ihiin and his ob:ject, the C(laregite, for such was the
seeming maraboult, dealt the N'tl:biai a blow with the dag-.
ger, which, hlowever, only grazed his arlil, while tlhe far
suliterior strength of' the Ethiopian e-asily dashed hlim  to
the ground.  Aware of wlhat had passed, Richllard had
now arisen, and with little more of sutrprise, aneger, or inlterest of any kind ini his counteantlee,    than an ordinary
man would show in brushing off and cruslhing   an intrusive
wasp, caugllt up the stool on whlich he had been sittinog,
and excla iming only " Ha, dog!" da-Ied al lnost to pieces
the skulln of the assassin, who utnew-'d twice, once in a
Loud, and once in a broken tone, ltp, words " Allah ack3ar"-G-od is victorious-and expiredi at the Kinlg's feet.
4" Ye are caeftill wardlers,"  said WRichard to his arch-'rs, in a tone of scornfiul reproach, as, aroused by the
ustle of what hlad pmassel, in terror  and tumnult they now
ushed itnto his tent  -" watchiful sentinels ve are, to
gave me to do such hangman's work with my own hand.
-.Be silent all of you, and cease y.oulr senseless clamour i
uw'w ye never a dead Turk before?-Here-cast that
Car.on oltt f the camnp, strike the head fiom the trunk
and se!ick it on a lance, taking care to turp the face to'Mecca, that he may the easier tell the foul impostor, on
whtse:rns;rtation he came hither, how he has Qped orl




IHIE  TALISMAN.                 259'his el'rand.-For thee, rny swart and silent friend," he
dtcled, turmning to the Ethiopian-"'But how's this
thoul art wounded-and with a poisoned w-eapon, I warrant me, for by force of stab so weak anl aniltlal as that
could scarce hope to do more than raze the Jion's hide.
— Suck the poison from  tiis wound one of you —the
venom is harmnless on the lips, though fatal when it mingles with the blood."
The yeomen looked on each other confusedly arid with
hesitation, the apil)eliension of so strange a danger prevailing with those who feared no other.; How now, siratis," continued the King, " are you
dainty-li)ped, 01r (do )'you tear death, that )ou dally thus?"
" Not the det itli of a mnan," said Long Allen, to whorn
the King looked as hie spoke; " but inethinks I would
not die like a poisoned rat for the sake of a black chattel there, that is bought and sold in a market like at Martlet-mas ox."
" His Grace speaks to men of sucking poison," Mnuttered another yeonlan, " as if he said, go to, swallow a
gooseberry!"' Nay," said Richard, " I never bade man do that
iwhich 1I would not do mnyself."
And, without fakrther ceremony, and. in spite of the
general expostrilations of those aroutid, and the respectfull opposition of tile Nubian hitnself; the King of England
applied his lips to the wound of th(e hlacek slave, treating
witth ridicule all renmonstralnces, arld overpowering   all
resistanee.  He ehad no sooner' internmitted his singular
occulpation, thian the Nubian started fiomi him, and casting a scarf over Ills arm, intimnated( by gestures, as firm
ill purpose as they were respectfill in manner, his determination not to permit the'Monarch to renew so degrading an employment.  Lo3ng Allen also interposed,
saying, that if it were nesessary to prevent the Kin-g enigaging again  in a treatment of this kind, his own lips,
tongue, arid teeth, were at the service of the negro, (as
io called the Ethiopian,) and that he would eat hriim  uF




'2( i)      TALES OF TIHE CRUSADEIlS.
bhodily. rather than King Richlard's moutll should agair
approach hi
Neville, who entered wvith other officers, added hiremonstrances.';  ay, nay, rnake not a needless halloo about a harl
that the hounds have lost, or a dangler \l when it is over,'
said the  ilng —" tlhe wound will be a trifle, for tile blood
is scarce drawn —an angry c(at had dealt a dleeper scratch
— and, lf0r nme, 1 have but to tatke a draclirn of orvietan
by- waSy of )recatiltion, thllourh it is nle(edless."
Tllus spoke Richard, a little asllalnled, perhaps, of
1 is own condescelnsioln, thotlgh sanctioned  both by hiumanity  and gratitudle.  Buit when Neville continued to
make remonstrances on the peril to his royal l)erson, tlb'
King irnposedl silence on him.
6 Peace, I prithlee —make no more of it —[ did it bht
to show these ignorant prejudiced knaves how they mig-ht
help each otller whlen tllese cowardly caitifts come against
i:s with sarbacanes and poisoned shafts. —lBut," lie added, " take thee this Nuhian to thy quarters, NevilleI have chanecld my mind touching him —let llim be well
cared for —-Btit, hark in thine ear-see tiat le escapes
thee not there is more in him  than seems.  Let him
lhave all liberty, so that lie leave not tie canip. — And you,
ye beef -devouring, Nwine-swvilling English mnastifTS, -et ye
to your guard again, and be sure you keel) it more waariiy.  Thinlk not you are now in your own land of fair
play, where men speak before they strike, and shake
hands ere they cut throats.  I)anger in our land walks
openly, and with his blade drawn, and defies the foe
whom  he means to assault;  but lhere he challenges
you with a silk glove instead of a steel-gauntlet, cuts
your throat with thle feather of a turtle-dove, stabs you
witil the tongute of a priest's broochl, or tlhrottles yott withl
the lace of my laldy's boddice.  Go to —keclp your eyes
open and your mouths shlut —drink less and look slharpei
about you; or I will place your hluge stomachs ol sicii
short allowance, as would pincll tlle stomlach of a patieal)
Scottishnlan."




THE TATJXSMAN.               261
The ye mrnen, abashleu and mortified, withdi ew to their;)ost, and Neville  was beginnring to remonstrate with his
master nupon thle risk of passing over thuis slightly their
negigcene upocn their duty, and the propriety of an example in a case so peculiarly aggravated as the permitting
one so sus-picious as the rnarabout to approach within
dagger's length of his person, when Richard interrupted him with " Speak not of it, Neville-wouldst thou
h}ave me avenge a petty risk to mny self more severely
thran the loss of' England's Banner?  It has been stolen
-stolen by a tlhief, or delivered up by a traitor, and no
blood has been sthed for it.-NMy sable fi'iend, thou art
an expounder of mysteries, saith the illustrious Soldan
-now would I give thee thine own weight in gold, if, by
raising one still blacker than thyself, or by what other
means thou wilt, thou couldst show me the thief who did
mnine honour that wrong.  What say'st thou r ha!"
The mute seemed desirous to speak, but uttered only
that imperfect sound proper to his melancholy condition,
then folded his arms, looked on the King with an eye
of' intelligence, and nodded in answer to his question.
"How!" said Richard, wvith joyful impatience.  "Wilt
thou undertake to make discovery in this matter?"
The Nubian slave repeated the same motion.
"BBut how shall we understand each other?" said the
King.-"n Canst thou write, good fellow?"
The slave again nodded in assent.
i' Give him  writing-tools," said the King.   "They
were readier in my father's tent than mine-but they be
s.rnmewhere about, if this scorching climate have not dried
up the ink. Why, this fellow is a jewel-a black diamond, Neville."
"So please you, my liege," said Neville, "6 if I might
speak my poor mind, it were ill dealing in this ware.
Tihis man must be a wizard, and wizards deal with the
Etnemy, who hath most interest to sow tares among the
wheat, and bring dissension into our councils, and'b Peace, Neville," said Richard.  " Hollo to your
lorthern |hioidi when he is close on the haunch of the




262         TALES OF THIE  CRUSAD)EIRS.
deer, and hope to recall him, but seek not to stop Plantal
-enet when lie hath hope to retriyeve hiDs 1i-onour.")
The slave, whlo during this di.;:ussion iad be. en writinug, in whvich art he seemed skilfudi, now ar,.re, and rressing what he had written to his brow, iprosr!:atc lp  limseli
as usual, ere he delivered it into the King's ia.iiis. -r  e
scroll was in French, although their intercourse hada hitherto been conducted by Richard in the Lirnjua Franca.
"To Richard, the conquering and invincible IKing o
England, this from the hulmblest of his slaves.   1yst eries are the sealed caskets of Heaven, but wisdom may
devise means to open the lock.  Were your slave stationed where the leaders of the Christian host were made to
pass before hint in order, doubt nothing, that if he who
did the injury whereof my King complains shall be
among the number, he may be made manifest in his
iniquity, though it be hidden under seven veils."
" Now, by Saint George!" said King Richard, c" thou
hast spoken most opportunely.-Neville, thou knoow'st,
that when we muster our troops to-morrow, the princes
have agreed, that to expiate the affront offered to England in the theft of her Banner, the leaders should l)ass
our new Standard as it floats on Saint George's Mount,
and salute it writh formal regard.   Believe me, the secret traitor will not dare to absent himnself firom  an
expurgation so solemn, lest his very absence sllould,be
matter of suspicion. There will we place our sable nl;tl
of counsel, and, if his art can detect the villain, leave mie
to deal with him."
"My liege," said Neville, with the firankness of an
English baron, "beware what work you begin.  Iae e
is the concord of our holy league unexpectedly renewedl
-wl7ll you, upon such suspicions as a negro slave can;1stil, tear open wounds so lately closed —or will you utse.he solemn procession, adopted for the reparation of01 yor
honour, and  establishment of unanimity amongst'  ICe
discording princes, as the means of again  finding out
new cause of offence, or reviving ancient quarrels?  It
were scarce too strong to say, this were a breach ol




THE TALISMAN.                    26?
the declaration youlr grace made to the assembled c Dun
cil of the Crusade."
"Neville," said the King, sternly interruptingr    him
"thy zeal malkes thee presumptuous and unmannerly
Never did I promnise to abstaiu from  taking whatever
met:ans were most promnising to discover the irnfmous autihor of the attack on mny honour.  Ere I had done so, 1
ywould l. ave renounced my kingdomn-lmy life.  All my
declarations were under this necessary and absolute qualificationl; —-only, if Austria had stepped forth and oNwned thl iq(iury lilke a man, I proffered, for the sakle of Chris-:vendo )-mI  to have forgiven hirm."
B': Lt,?  continued the baron, anxiously, " what hope
that this juggling slave of Saladin will not palter with
)your   ace?5'' Peare, Neville,"  said the King; "thou think'st
thyself miglhty wise, and art but a fool.  Mind thou my
charge touching this fellow-there is more in him  than
thy Westinoreland wit can fathom. —And thou, svwart
and silent, prepare to perform the feat thou hast promisedl, and, by the word of a King, thou shalt choose
thine own recompense.-Lo, he writes again."
The mute accordingly wrote and delivered to the
King, with the same form as before, another slip of paper, containing these words.-" The will of the King is
ihe law to his slave-nor doth it become him to ask guerdon for discharge of his devoir."
" Gtterrlo   and d'evoir!" said the King, interrupting
himself as he read, and speakilng  to Neville in the English tongue with some en-iphasis on the words,-" These
Eastern people will pfofit by the crusaders-they  are
acquiring the language of chivalry.-And see, Neville,
how discomposed that fellow  lookls-were it not for his
colour he would blush.  I should not think it strange i.
he understood what I say-they are perilous linguists."
"The ploor slave cannot endure your Grace's eye," said
Neville; " it is nothing more."
" Well, hut," continued the King, striking the papet
Pith llis finger, as lie proceeded, " this bold scroll pro



264         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
ceeds to say, that our trusty mute is charged with a loes
sage from  Saladin to the Lady Edith Plantagenet, ani
craves means and opportunity to deliver it. What think'st
thou of a request so modest-ha, Neville?"
" I cannot say," said Neville, " how  such freedomi.
may relisll with youi grace, but tile lease of the messenger's neck would be a short one, who should carry such
a request to the Soldan on the part of your Majesty."
"Nay, I thank Heaven that 1 covet none of his sunburnt
beauties," said Ricllard; " and for punishing this fellow
for disclharging his master's errand, and that when he
has just saved my lifen-methinks it were something too
stummary.  i'll tell thee, Neville, a secret —-for, althouwgh
our sable and mute minister be present, he cannot, thou
know'st, tell it over again, even if he should chance to
understand us —I tell thee, that, for this fortniglht past,
I have been under a strange spell, and I would I were
disenchanted.  There has no sooner any one done me
goodl service, but lo you, he cancels his interest in me by
some deep injury; and, onl the other hand, lie who hath
deserved death at my hands for some treachery or some
insult, is sure to be the very person, of all others, who
confers upon me sonime obligation that overbalances his
demerits, and renders respite of his sentence a debt due
from iny honour.  Thus, thou seest, I am  deprived o,
the best part of nmy royal function, since I can neither
punish men nor reward tholrm.  Until the influence of this
disqualifying planet be passed away, 1 will say nothing
concerning the request of this our sable attendant, save
that it is an unusually bold one, and that his best chance
of finding grace in our eyes will bt, to endeavour to make
the discovery which he proposes to achieve in our behalf.
Meanllwile, Neville, do thou look well to him, and let
him  be honolrably cared for.-And hark thee once
more," he said, in a low whisper, " seek out yonder hermit
of Engaddi, and bring himn to me forthwith, be he saint
or savage, madman or sane.  I et me see him privately."
Neville retired from the royal tent, signing to the NiTb;an to follow  him, and mich surprised at what b. hadl




TEI  TA.LISMANoA,                2065
seen and heard, and especially at the unusual demeanour
of tile King.  In general, no task was so easy as to discover Richard's immediate course of sentimeet and feeling, thoughl it might, in some cases, lie difficult to calculate its duration; fir no weatlhelrcock obeyed tile changing wind more readil- than the King his guists of passion.
But, on tlhe present occasion, his manner seemed unusually constrained and nlyslerious, nor was it easy to guess
whetiher displeasure e or kindness predominated  in his
condlict towards his new  dependant, or in the looks
w;itli wllicl, from  tilme to time, he regarded him.  Tle
ready service which the King had rendered to counteract
the hiad eftects of the Nubian's wound, might seem  to
balance thle obligation conferred on hihl by thle slave
whlen lie intercepted the blow of tile assassin, but it seemied as a muchll loner accouint remained to be arranged
between them, tlat the Monarcll was doubtful whether
the settlement migllt leave him, upon the whole, debtor
or creditor, and that, therefore, lie assumned, in the mean
tinme, a neutral demeanour, wllich might suit with either
character.  As for the Nubian, by wllatever means lie
had acquired the art of writing the European languages,
the King remained convinced that tle English tongue
was at least unknown to him, since, l;aving w atched llim
closely during the last )art of the interview, he conceived it impossible for any one understanding; a conversation,
of whichl lie was lilnself the subject, to hlave so con)letely avoided the appearance of taking an interest in it.
tVOL. Lt.




t{J6        TALES OF THE CRUIIS.DERS.
CHAPTER XXII.
WVho's there? —Approah-'tis kindly doneMy learnted physicianl and a frienld.
Siu EIusrAca GEtEr.
OLUR narrative retrogrades to a period shortly previous
to the incidents last mentioned, when, as the reader nmust
remember, the unfortunate Knight of the Leopard, bestowed upon the Arabian physiciab by King Richard,
rather as a slave than in any other capacity., was exiled
from the camp of the crusaders, in whose rainks he had
so often and so brilliantly distinguished himself.  He followed his new mlaster, for so he must now term the Ha
kim, to the.Moorish tents which contained his retinue
and his property, with the stupified feelings of one, who,
fallen from the sunmmit of' a precipice, and escaping unexpectedly with life, is just able to drag himself'from
the fatal spot, but without the power of estinmating the
extent of the damage which lie has sustained.  Arrived
at the tent, he tllrew himlself, without speech of any kind,
upon a couch of dressed buffalo's hide, which was pointed
out to him l)y his conductor, andl hiding  his tre betwixt
his hands, groaned heavily, as if his heart were on the
point of burstinlg.  The physician heard himne, as he was
giving orders to his numerous domestics to prepare for
their departure the next morning before daynrreak, and,
moved with compassion, interrupted his occupation to sit
down, cross-legged, by the side of his couch, and administer comfort according to the Oriental manner.
Mry friend," he said, " be of good comfort —for what
sayeth the poet-it is better that a man should be the
servant of a kind master, than the slave of his own wild
passions.  Again, be of good courage, because, whereas
Ysouf Ben Yagoube was sold to a King by his brethren,
even to Pharaoh King of Egypt, thy King hath, on thl]




THE TALISMAN.                  267
othler hand, bestowed thee on one who will be to thee
as a brother."
Sir Kenneth made an efl'brt to thank the Hiak:_im,  but his
i)eart was too full, and the indistiret sou ds which a.cc.o.panied his abortive attempts to repi), induced the kind
physician to desist from  his premrrature endeavours at
consolation.  Hie left his new d olestic, or guest,'n
quiet, to indulge his sorrows, and having comnmandtled
all the necessary preparations for tlheir departure on tle
morning, sat down upon the carpet of the tent, and indulged himself in a moderate repast.  After he had thus
refireshed himself; similar viands were offered to the
Scottish Knigllt; but though the slaves let him understand that the next day would be far advanced ere they
would halt for the purpose of refreshment, Sir Kenneth
could not overcome the disgust which he felt against
swallowing any nourishment, and could be prevailed upon
to taste nothing, saving a draught of cold water.
He was awake, long after his Arab host had performed his usual devotions, and betaken himself to his repose, nor had sleep visited him at the hour of midnight,
when a movement took place among the domestics,
which, though attended with no speech, and very little
noise, made him  aware they were loading the camels
and preparing for departure.  In the course of these
preparations, the last person who was disturbed, excepting the physician himself, was the Knight of Scotland,
whom, about three in the morning, a sort of major-domo,
or master of the household, acquainted that he must arise.
He did so, without farther answer, and followed lirn into
the moonlight,  where stood the camels, most of whlich
were already loaded, and one only remiained kneeling
until its burden should be completed.
A little apart from the camels stood a number of horses
ready bridled and saddled, and the ltakinm himself conming
forth, mounted on one of them with as much agility as
the grave decorum of his character permitted, and directed another, which he pointed out, to be led towards Sir
Kenneth.  An English officer was in attendance, tc




268           TALES  OF TIHE  CRUSADERtS
escort thrlm thrihL. the  camp  of the crusaders, and tc
ensure  their!eaviing:t in saiety,  and all was readly fOi
their departultre.''!he pa*vilion wlhich dley lhad left, was,
in tli  mnlere.Wlle, struck wih! singuilar dlespatc.l, and the
tcpnt-oles and  coverings     col, posed the b)urden  of the
last canel —-when  trhe.lwlv.;Cic.3a   pronouncing solemnly
the verse of the Koran,  "God be otur guide, and Mlahoiila  ed oiur protector inl thle desert as in the watered
field," tihe whole cavalcade was instantly in niotion.
In traversing   tlhe canrnp, iley vwere challenged  by the
various sentinels who maintained guard tlere, and suffere(d to proceed in silence, or vith a lmuttered culrse upon
tlleir pro)llet, as they passed tl:e post of sonme more
zealous crIusader.  At lengtlh, tile last blarriers iwere left
bellind theli, and the party fbrmed thllerselves for the
mnarcli with military plrecauttion.'Two or three  llorsemen advanced  in front as a vanguLard; one0 or two  iemnained a bow-shot in tile rear; and, w'lilerever the
ground admlitted, others were detacled to keetp an outlook
oln the flanks.  In this manner they proceeded onward,
whlile Sir Kenneth, looking back on1 tile moonligllt canmp,
niilt now illdeed  seenm  banished, deprived at once of
hon0our and of liberty, fiomn the glimLnering bannlers under whicll lhe lad hlop'ed to gain additional renown, a~nd
the tented dwellings of chivalry, of Christianity, and —of Edith Plautaweaet.
The Hakimn, wtho:) rode by his side, o1bserved, in llis
usulal tone of sententious consol ationl-" It is unwLIrVise. to1
look baclc when thle journey lietlh iorward;" and as lhe
spoke, the horse of tile knillit made such a p;rcilous
sturnlle, as threatened to add a practical mioral to tlJe tale.
The knight was colmpelled by tllis hllnt to give nmore
attention to the Inatnagelent of his steed, w\llich  o111're
than  once required tle  assistance, and sutl)ort of' the
ellmek-bridhle, aItlihout11, in otlier respects, nothling cCIutld
be more easy at once, and active, than thle ambling pace
at whlich thle animal (whicll was a mare) proceeded.
1The conditions of' that llorse,"9  bserved thle sententious phiyIcian, LL  are like those of' hlulman  forltune




THI'-lE TALISMAN.              269
seeing that amidst his most swift and easy pace, the rider
must guard himself against a fall, and that it is when
prosperity is at the highest, that our prudence should
be awake and vigilant, to prevent misfortune."
The overloaded appetite loaths even the honeycomb,
and it is scarce a wonder that the knight, mortified and
harassed with misfortunes and abasement, became something impatient of hearing his misery made, at every turn.
the g round of proverbs and apothegms, however just anJ
apposite.
"Methinks," he said, rather peevishly,' I wanted
no additional illustration of' the instability of fortunethough I would thank thee, Sir Hakim, for thy choice ol
a steed for me, would the jade but stumble so effectually
as at once to break my neck and her own."' My brother," answered the Arab sage, with inperturbable gravity; "thou speakest as one of the foolish.
Thou say'st in thy heart, that the sage should have given
one as his guest, the younger and better horse, and reserved the old one for himself; but know, that the defects
of the older steed may be compensated by the energies of
the young rider, whereas the violence of the young ]lorse
requires to be moderated by the cold temper of the
older."
So spoke the sage; but neither to this observation did
Sir Kenneth return any answer which could lead to a
continuance of their conversation, and the physician,
wearied, perhaps, of administering comfortto one who
would not be comforted, signed to one of his retinue.
" Hassan," he said, " hast thou nothing wherewith to
beguile the way?"
Hassan, story-teller and poet by profession, spurred
up, upon this summons, to exercise his calling.-" Lord
of the palace of life," he said, addressing tile physician,' thou before whom the angel Azrael spreadeth his wings
for flight-thou, wiser than Solimaun ben Daoud, upon
whose sianet was inscribed the REAL NAME \Vlicll cointrols
lhe spirits of the elements-forbid it, Heaven, that wh'l
29 vol,. J.




270         TA1',   S OF THE CRUSADEPRS.
thou travellest upon the track of benevolence, beariig
healing and hope wherever thou comest, thine o~wn course
should be saddened for lack of the tale and of the song.
Behold, while thy servant is at thy side, he will pour
forth the treasures of his memory, as the fountain sendeth
her stream  beside the pathway, for the refreshment of
him that walketh thereon."
After this exordium, Hassan uplifted his voice, and
began a tale of love and magic, intermixed with feats of
warlike achievement, and ornamented wit!i abundant
quotations firom the Persian poets, with whose compositions the orator seemed familiar.  Tile retinue of the
physician, such excepted as were necessarily detained
in attendance on the camels, thronged up to the narrator,
and pressed as close as deference for their master permitted, to enjoy the delight which the inhabitants of the
East have ever derived from this species of exhibition.
At another time, notwithstanding his imperfect knowledge of the language, Sir Kenneth might have been
interested in the recitation, which, though dictated by a
niore extravagant imagination, and expressed in more
inflated and metaphorical language, bore yet a strong
resemblance to the romances of chivalry, then so fashionable in Europe.  But as nmatters stood with him, he
was scarcely even sensible that a man in the centre of
the cavalcade recited and sung, in a low tone, for nearly
two hours, modulating his voice to the various moods of
passion introduced into the tale, and receiving, in return,
now low murmurs of applause, now muttered expressions of wonder, now sighs and tears, and sometimes,
what it was far more difficult to extract from  such an
audience, a tribute of smiles, and even laughter.
During the recitation, the attention of the exile, however abstracted by his own deep sorrow, was occasionally awakened by the low  wail of a dog, secured in a
wicker enclosure suspended on one of the cainels, which,
as an experienced woodsman, he had no hesitation in
recognizing to be that of his owan faithful hound; and'roln the plaintive tone of the animnal, he had no doubt




TH'EI; T4ALISMlAN.              271 
that he was sensible of his master's vicinity, and in h s,vay invoking his assistance for liberty and rescue.
" Alas! poor Roswal," he said, " thou callest for
aid and sympathy, upon one in stricter bondage than thou
thyself art.  I will not seem to heed thee, or return thy
affection, since it would serve but to load our parting
with yet more bitterness."
Tlhus passed the hours of night, and the space of
dim  hazy dawn, which forms the twilight of a Syrian
norning.  But when the very first line of the sun's disk
began to rise above the level horizon, and when the very
first level ray shot glimmering in dew along the surface
of the desert, which the travellers had now attained, the
sonorous voice of El iHakim himself overpowered and
cut short the narrative of the wtle-teller, while he caused
to resound along the sands the solemn summons, which
the mluezzins thunder at morning fiom'the minaret of
every mosque.
"' To prayer-to prayer! God is the one God.-To
prayer  to prayer! Malhomrned is the prophet of God.
-To prayer-to prayer! Time is flying firom you.To prayer-to prayer! Judgment is drawing nigh tc
you.'
In an instant each Moslem cast himself from his horse,
turned his face towards iMecca, and performed with
sand an imitation of those ablutions, which were elsewhere required to be made with water, while each in*dividual, in brief but fervent ejaculations, recommended
himnself to the. care, and his sins to the forgiveness, of
God and the Prophet.
Even Sir Kenneth, whose reason at once and preju.
dices were oflended by seeing his companions in that
which lie considered as an act of idolatry, could not
hielp respecting the sincerity of their misguided zeal, and
oein, stimulated by their fervour to apply Siluplications
to Heaven in a plurer form, wondering, ineanwhlile, whiat
new-born feeliilm.s could teach  him  to accompany in,8932




2; I 411-  TALES OF T'HE CRUSADERS.
prayer, though with varied invocation, those vrv S3ar.
acens, whose heathenish worship he had conceived a
crime dishonourable to the land in which high mniracles
had been wrought, and where the day-star of redemption
had arisen.
The act of devotion, llowever, though rendered in such
strange society, burst purely from his natural feelings of
religious duty, and had its usual effect in composing the
spirits, which had been long harassed by so rapid a succession of calamities.  The sincere and earnest approach
of the Christian to the throne of the Almighty, teaches
the best lesson of patience under affliction; since wherefore should we mock the Deity with supplications, when
we insult him by murmuring under his decrees?-or how,
while our prayers have in 9very word admitted the vanity
and nothingness of the things of time in comparison to
those of eternity, should we hope to deceive the Searcher
of Hearts, by permitting the world and worldly passions
tc reassume the reins even immediately after a solemn
address to Heaven? But Sir Kenneth was not of these.
He felt himself comforted and strengthened, and better
prepared to execute or submit to whatever his destiny
might call upon him to do or to suffer.
Meanwhile the party of Saracens regained their saddles, and continued their route, and the tale-teller, Hassan, resumed the thread of his narrative; but it was no
longer to the same attentive audience. A horseman, who
had ascended some high ground on the right hand of the
little column, had returned on a speedy gallop to El
Hakim, and communicated with him.  Four or five
more cavaliers had then been despatched, and the little
band, which might consist of about twenty or thirty persons, began to follow them with their eyes, as men from
whose gestures, and advance or retreat, they were to
augur good or evil.- Hassan, finding his audience inattentive, or being  himself attracted by the dub;ous appearances on the flank, stinted in his song; and the march




THE TALISMAN.                  273
became silent, save when a camel-driver called out tc
his patient charge, or some anxious followe: of the Haktin communicated with his next neiglhbour in a hurried
and low whisper.
This suspense continued until they had rounded a
ridge, composed of hillocks of sand, which concealed
from  their main body the object that had created this
alarm among their scouts.  Sir Kenneth could now see,
at the distance of a mile or more, a dark object moving
rapidly on the bosom of the desert, which his experienced
eye recognized for a party of cavalry, much superior to
their own in numbers, and, from the thick and frequent
flashes which flung back the level beams of the rising stin,
it was plain that these were Europeans in their complete
panoply.
IThe anxious looks which the horsemen of E1 Hakiln
now cast upon their leader, seemed to indicate deep
apprehension; while lie, with gravity as undisturbed as
when he called his followers to prayer, detached two of
his best-mounted cavaliers, with instructions to approach
as closely as prudence permitted to these travellers of
the desert, and observe more minutely their numbers,
their character, and, ifpossible, their purpose.  The
approach of danger, or what was feared as such, was like
a stimulating draught to one in apathy, and recalled Sir
Kenneth to himself and his situation.
" What fear you firom these Christian horsemen, for
such they seem?" lie said to the Hakim.
"' Fear!" said El Hakim, repeating the word disdainfully-," The sage fears nothing but Heaven-but ever
expects from wicked men the worst which they can do."
" They are Christians," said Sir Kenneth, "' and it
is the time of truce-why should you fear a breach ol
faith?"
" They are the priestly soldiers of the Temple," answered E1 Hakim, " whose vow limits them  to know
neither truth nor faith with the worshippers of Islam
May the prophet bl'ght them, both root, branch, and twig!
-Their peace is war, and their faith is falsehood.




27-         TALES OF THEIL  CRUSADERS
()tle; invaders of Palestine have thleir times and.. uods
of courtesy.  The lion Riclhard will spare xlhen he has
conquered — the eale Philip will close his wing when he
has stricken a prey —even the Austrian bear will sleep
when he is gorged; but this horde of ever-hungry
wolves know neither pause nor satiety in their rapine --
Seest thou not that thley are detaching a party from tl. eir
main Llody, and that they take an eastern direction? Yon
are their pages and squires, whom they train up in thein
accursed mysteries, and whom, as lighter mounted, they
send to cut us off from our watering-place.  But they
will be disappointed: Iknow the war of the desert yet
better than they."
He spoke a few words to his principal officer, and his
whole demeanour and countenance was at once changed
from the solemn repose of an Eastern sage, accustomed
more to contemplation than to action, into the prompt
and proud expression of a gallant soldier, whose energies are aroused by the near approach of a danger,
which he at once foresees and despises.
To Sir Kenneth's eyes the approaching  crisis had a
different aspect, and when Adonbec said to him, " Thou
must tarry close by my side," he answered solemnly in
the negative.
Yonder," he said, " are my comrades in armsthe men in whose society I have vowed to fighlit or fallon their banner gleams the.sign of our most blessed redemption-I cannot fly fron the Cross in company with
the Crescent."
" Fool!" said the Hakim; "their first action would
he to do thee to death, were it only to conceal their
breach of the truce.'9
Of that I must take my chance," replied Sir Kenneth; " but I wear not the bonds of the infidels an Instant hIt ner than 1 can cast them fiom me."
" Then will I compel thee to follow me," said El
Hakim.
"Compel!" answered Sir Kenneth, angrily.  "Wert
tlhou not my benefactor, or one wh- has showed will to




THE TALISMAN.                   275
be such, and were it not that it is to thy confidence I
owe the freedom  of these hands, which thou inight'si
[have loaded with fetters, I would shlow thee that, unarmed as I am, comlpulsion would be no easy task."' FEnouglh  enough," replied the Arabian  lhysician,
we lose time even when it is becoming precious."
So saying, he threw his arm aloft, and uttered a loud
and shrill cry, as a signal to those of his retinue, who
instantly dispersed themselves on tile face of the desert,
in as many different directions as a chaplet of beads when
the string is broken.  Sir Kenneth had no tiine to note
x hat ensued; for, at the same instant the Hakim seized
the rein of his steed, and putting his own to its mnettle, both
sprLung forth at once with the suddenness of lighlit, and
at a pitch of velocity which almost deprived the Scottish
Knight of the power of respiration, and left him absolutely incapable, had ble been desirous, to have checked the
career of his guide.   Practised as Sir Kenneth was in
horsemanship from his earliest youth, the speediest horse
hle had ever mounted was a tortoise in comparison to
those of the Arabian sage.  Tlley spurned the sand from
behind teremn-they seemed to detour the desert before
them-mliles flew away with minutes, and yet their
strength seemed unabated, and their respiration as fiee
as when they first started upon the wonderful race.  The
motion, too, as easy as it was swift, seemed more like
flying through the air than riding on the earth, and was
attended  with no unpleasant sensation, save the awe
nlaturally felt by one who is moving at such astonishing
speed, and the difficulty of breathing occasioned by their
passing through the air so rapidly.
It was not until after an hour of this portentous moticn,
and when all human pursuit was far, far behind, that the
HIakim at length relax( I his speed, and slackening the
pace of the horses into a hand gallop, began, in a voice
as composed and even as if he had been walking for the
last hour, a descant upon the excellence of his coursers
to the Scot, who, breathless, half blind, half deaf, and
altogether giddy, friom the rapidity of this singular ride.




276          TALES OF THEr CRUSADERS.
hardly comiprehended the words which flowed so freely
fiom his companion.
" These  horses," he said, " are of the breed called
the Winced, equal in speed  to  aught excepting the
Borak of the prophet.  They are fed on the golden
barley of Yemen, mixed with spices, and with a small
portion of dried sheep's flesh. Kings have given provinces to possess them, and their age is active as their
youth.  Thou, Nazarene, art the first, save a true believer, that ever had beneath his loins one of this noble
race, a gift of the prophet himself to the blessed All,
his kinsman and lieutenant, well called the Lion of God.
Time lays his touch so lightly on these generous steeds,
that the mare on which thou now  sittest has Seen five
times five years pass over her, yet retains her pristine
speed and vigour, only that in the career the support of
a bridle, managed by a hand more experienced than
thine, hath now  become necessary.  May the prophet
be blessed, who hath bestowed on the true believers the
means of advance and retreat, which causeth their ironclothed enemies to be worn out with their own ponderous weight! How  the horses of yonder dog Templars
must nave snorted anid blown, when they had toiled
fetlock-deep in the desert for one-twentieth part of the
space which these brave steeds have left behind them,
without one thick pant, or a drop of moisture upon their
sleek and velvet coats! "
The Scottish Knight, who had now begun to recover
his breath and powers of attention, could not help acknowledging in his heart the advantage possessed by th.ese
Eastern warriors in a race of animals, alike proper for
advance or retreat, and so admirably adapted to the level
and sandy deserts of Arabia and Syria.  But he did not
choose to augment the pride of' the Moslem by acquiescing in his proud claim of superiority, and therefore suffered the conversation to drop, and, looking around hilln
could now, at the more moderate pace at which tliey
moved, distinguish that he was in a country not unknown
to him.




THE TALISMAN.                  277
The blighted borders, and sullen waters of the Dead
Sea, the ragged and precipitous chain of nountains
arisilg on the left, the two or three palms clustered
together, forming the single green speck on the bosom ol
the waste wilderness,-objects which, once seen, were
~carcely to be forgotten,-showed to Sir Kenneth that
tlhey were approaching the fountain called the Diamond
3f the Desert, which had been the scene of his interview
on a former occasion with the Saracen Emir Sheerkohf.
or Ilderitn.  In a few minutes they checked their horses
beside the spring, and the Hakim invited Sir Kenneth to
de-.end from horseback, and repose himself as in a
place of safety.  They unbridled their steeds, El Hakim observing that farther care of them was unnecessary,
since they would be speedily joined by some of the best
mounted among his slaves, who would do what farther
was needful.
" Meantime," he said, spreading some food on the
grass, " eat and drink, and be not discouraged.  Fortune
may raise up or abase the ordinary mortal, but the sage
and the soldier should have minds beyond her control."
The Scottish Knight endeavoured to testify his thanks
by showing himself' docile; but though he strove to eat
out of complaisance, the singular contrast betwoen his
present situation, and that which he had occupied on the
same spot, when the envoy of princes, and the victor in
combat, came like a cloud over his mind, and fasting,
lassitude, and fatigue, oppressed his bodily powers.  El
Hakim examined his hurried pulse, his red and inflamed
eye, his heated hand, and his shortened respiration.
"The mind," he said, " grows wise by watching, but
her sister the body, of coarser materials, needs the
support of repose.  Thou must s-eep; and that thiou
may'st do so to refreshment, thou must take a draught'niniled with this elixir."
He d(rew from his bosom a small crystal vial, cased in
silver filigree-work, and dropped into a little goelde
drinking-cup a small portion of a dark-coloured fluid.
VOL. 11.




-2738        TALE,8S OF'T1'rHE CRUSAI)I.R.So
" This," he said, " is one of those productions wiiich
Alla hath  sent on earth for a blessing, though man's
weakness and wickedness have sometilnes converted it
into a curse.   It is powerful as the wine-cup of' the
Nazarene to drop the curtain on the sleepless eye, and
to relieve thle burden of the overloaded bosom; but whlen
applied to the purposes of indulgence and debauchery, it
rends the nerves, destroys the strengtlh, weakens the
intellect, and undermines life.   But fear not thou to
use its virtues in the time of need, for the wise man
warms him by the same firebrand with which the madman
burneth the tent."77
" I have seen too much of thy skill, sage Hakim,"
said Sir Kenneth, " to debate thine best;" and swallowed the narcotic, mingled as it was with some water fiom
the spring, then wrapped him in the haik, or Arab cloak,
which had been fastened  to his saddle-pommel, and,
according  to the directions of thle physician, stretched'iimself at ease in the shade to await the promised repose.  Sleep came not at first, but in her stead a train
of pleasing yet not rousing or awakening sensations.
A state ensued, in which, still conscious of llis own identity and his own condition, thle kniglht felt enabled to
consider them not only without alarml and sorrow, but as
composedly as he might have viewed the story of his
misfortunes acted upon a stage, or rather as a disembodied spirit might regard the transactions of its past existence.   From  this state of repose, amounting almost
to apathy respecting thle p)ast, his thoughts were carried
forward to the future, which, in spite of all that existed
to over-cloud the prospect, glittered with such ihues, as
tinder much happier auspices h)is unstimulated imagination
had not been able to produce, even in its most exalted
state.   Liberty, fame, successfiul love, appeared to 1he
the certain, and not very distant prospect, of' the enslaved
exile, the dishcnoured  knighlt, even uf the despairing
lover, who had placed his hopes of happiness so f'ar beyond the prospect of chance, in ller wildest possibiliitis,
serving to countenance his wislles.  Gradually as tle in




'ct HE'Ft'AL ISM AN.              79
tellecttual sight became overclouded, these gay visions
becamle obscure, like the dying hues of stunset, until thel
were at last lost in total oblivion; and Sir Kenneth lay
extended at the eet of El Hakirm, to aII appearance, but
for his deep respiration, as inanimate a corpse, as if life
had actually departed.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Mid these wild scenes Enchantment uwaves her hand,
T'o change the face of the mysterious land;
Till the bewildering scenes around us seem
The vain productions of a feverish d(ream.
Astolpho, a Roimance.
WHEN tile Knight of the Leopard  awoke from  his
long and profound  repose, hie found hlimself in circumstances so different from tlhose in whiclt lie had lain dovwn
to sleep, that lie doubted xwhether lte was not still dreaming, or whether the scene had not been changed  oy
magic.  Instead of the damp grass, he lay on a couch
of' more thlan Oriental luxury, and some kind hands hlad,
during his repose, stripped him of t!e cassock of cllalnois
which he wore under his armour, and substituted a nigl;t
dress of the finest linen, and a loose gown of silk.  He
had been canopied only by tile palm-trees of the desert,
but now he lay beneath a silken pavilion, which blazed
with the richest colours of the Chinese loom, while a
slight curtain of gauze, displayed around his couch, was
calculated to protect his repose firom the insects, to which
he hiad, ever since his arrival in these climates, been a
constant and passive prey.  He looked around, as if to
convince himself that lie was actually awake, and all that
fell beneath his eye partook of the splendour of his dormitory.  A portable bath of cedar, lined with silver, was
ready for uIse. and steamed with the odours whlich hadl




280'T.1'IS OF T1HE CRUS.DER!.
been used in preparing it.  On a small stand of ebony
beside the couch, stood a silver vase, containing sherbet
of the most exquisite quality, cold as snow, and which
the thirst that followed the use of the strong narcotic rendered peculiarly delicious.   Still farther to dispel the
dregs of intoxication which it had left behind, the knight
resolved to use.the bath, and experienced in doing so a
delightful refreshment.  Having dried himself' with napkins of the Indian wool, he would willingly have resumed
his own coTrse garments, that he might go forth to see
whether thb  world was as much changed without as
within the place of his repose.   These, however, were
nowhere to be seen, but in their place he found a Saracen dress of rich materials, with sabre and poniard, and
all befitting an Emir of distinction.   He was able to
suggest no motive to himself for this exuberance of
care, excepting a suspicion that these attentions were
intended to shake him in his religious profession, as indeed it was well known that the high esteem of the European  knowledge  and courage, made the  Soldan
unbounded in his gifts to those, who, having become his
prisoners, had been induced to take the turban.   Sir
Kenneth, therefore, crossing -himself devoutly, resolved
to set all such snares at defiance; and that he might do
so the more firmly, conscientiously determined to avail
himself as moderately as possible of the attentions and
luxuries thus liberally heaped upon him. Still, however,
he felt his head oppressed and sleepy, and aware, too,
that his undress was not fit for appearing abroad, he
reclined upon the couch, and was again locked in the
arms of slumber.
But this time his rest was not unbroken; for he was
awakened by the voice of the physician at the door
of the tenit, inquiring after his health, and whether he had
rested sufficiently.-"' May I enter your tent?" he concluded, " for the curtain is drawn before the entrance."
" The master," replied Sir Kenneth, determined to
slhow that he was not surprised into forgetfulness of his




THE TALISMAN.                   281
own condition, " need demand no permission to enter
the tent of the slave."
" But if I come not as a master?" said El Hakimn,
still without entering.
"The physician," answered the Knighbt, "hath free
access to the bedside of his patient."
" Neither come I now as a physician," replied El
Hakim; " and therefore I still request permission, ere I
come under the covering of thy tent."
"Whoever comes as a friend,"  said  Sir Kenneth,
a and such thou hast hitherto shown thyself to me, the
habitation of the friend is ever open to him."
"' Yet once again," said the Eastern sage, after the
periphrastical manner of his countrymen, " supposing
that I come not as a friend?"
"Come as thou wilt,"  said the  Scottish  knight,
somewhat impatient of this circumlocution,-" be what
thou wilt-thou knowest well it is neither in my power
nor my inclination to refuse thee entrance."
"' I come, then," said El Hakim, " as your ancient
foe; but a fair and a generous one."
He entered as he spoke; and when he stood before
the bedside of Sir Kenneth, the voice continued to be
that of Adonbec the Arabian physician, but the form,
dress, and features, were those of Ilderim of Kurdistan,
called Sheerkollf.  Sir Kenneth gazed upon him, as if
he expected the vision to depart, like something created
by his imagination.
"Doth it so surprise thee," said Ilderim, " and thou
an approved warrior, to see that a soldier Iknows somewhat of the art of healing?-I say to thee, Nazarene,
that an accomplished cavalier should know how to dress
his steed as well as -how to ride him; how to forge his
sword upon the stithy, as well as how to use it in battle 
how to burnish his arms, as well as how to wear themn;
and, above all, how to cure wounds as well as now to
inflict them."'
VOL. Ii.




~2sb         TAIES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
As he spoke, the Christian knight repeatedly shut ilis
eyes, and while tl)ey remained closed, tile idea of thile
ltlakim, with his long flowing dark robes, high tartar cap
and g'rave gestures, was present to h1is imagination; but
so soon as lie opened them, the graceful and richly-gemii ed turban, lhe light hauberk of steel rings entwisted
withl silver, which glanced brilliantly as it obeyed every
inflection of the body, the features freed  firom  their
iormal expressioin, less'swarthy, and no longer shadowed
bIy the mass of hair, (now  limited to' a well-trimmed
i eard,) announced the soldier and not the sage.
"Art thou still so much surprised," said the Emir,' and hast thou walked in the world with  such little
observance, as to wonder that men are not always what
thIey seem? —Thou thyself-art thou what thou seemest?"
" No, by Saint Andrew!" exclaimed  the knighlt;
" for, to the whole Christian camp I seem a traitor, and.1 know myself to be a true, thouglh an erring man."
"' Even so I judged thee," said Ilderim, " and as vwe
had eaten salt together, I deemed myself' bound to rescue
thee fiom death and contumely. —But wlherefore lie you
still on your couch, since the sun is high in the heavens?
or are the vestments which my sulmpter-camels have
afforded unworthy of your wearinog?"
" Not unworthy, surely, but unfitting for it,"  replied
the Scot; " give me the dress of a slave, noble Ilderim,
and 1 will don it with pleasure; but I cannot brook to
wear the habit of the free Eastern warrior, with the turnan of the Moslern."
" Nazarene," answered the Emir, "thy nation  so
easily entertain suspicion, that it may well render themselves suspected.   Have I not told thee that Saladin
desires no converts saving those whom the holy propl)et
shall dispose to submit themselves to his law? violence
and bribery are alike alien to his plan for extending
the titue faith.  Hearken to me, my brother.   When
the blind man was miraculously restored to sight, the,c ales dropped from  his eyes at the Divine pleasure



TIE TALISMAN.                     28think'st thou that any eart]hly leech could have removed
them? No.  Such mlediciner migllt lihave tormented tlhe
lpatient wvith his instrunlents, or pIerliaps soothed him
Nwithl his balsams and cordials, but. dark as lie was mitst
tlle dalrkened man have remained; and it is even so with
the blindness of the understanding.   If there be those
among the Franks, who, for the sake of worldtly lucre,
llave assumed the turban of tlle propl)iet, and'ollowed
tle laws of Islaln, with their own consciences be tlle
blame.   Themselves sought  out thle bait —it was not
flung to them  by the Soldan.   And when thley shall
hereafter be sentenced, as llypocrites, to the lowest gulf
of hell, below Clhristian and Jew, magician and idolater,
and condemned to eat thle fi'uit of the tree  Yacoun,
which is the heads of demons —to themselves, not to the
Soldan, shall their guilt and their punisllhment be attributed.  Wherefore  wear, without doubt or scruple, the
vesture prepared for you, since, if you proceed to the
camp of Saladin, your ownl native ldress will expose you
to troublesome observatioil, and perlllaps to insult."
" If 1 go to tile camp of Saladin?" said Sir Kenneth,
repeating tlle words~of the Elnir; " Alas! am I a firee
agent, and ratller muist I not go wherever your pleasure
carries me?"
C" Tlline own will may guide tlline own motions," said
tlhe Emir, " as fieely as tile wind wlliclh inovetll thle
dust of the desert in what direction it clloosetll. Th'le
noble enemy wh-o met, and well nig]l mastered iny sword,
cannot become my slave like hiln whlo has crouchled beneath it.  If wealth anrd power would telnpt tliee to join
our people, I could ensure thy possessing thlerm; but
the man who reflused the favours of lile Soldan, whlen
tile axe was at his Ileadl, will not, 1 fear, now  accept
te~m, iwnhen I tell limn lie has hlis firee clloice."
"Coml)lete youtl'  enerosity, Ioble Emir," said Sir
Klennetl, " by tforbearing to sllow mIe a miode of requital, whicll conlscience forbids ine to coiml)ly with.  Permit me rather to express, as bound in courtesy, my grat




284         TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS.,tude for this most chivalrous bounty, this undeservpd
generosity."
" Say not undeserved," replied the Emir Ilderill,
" was it not through thy conversation, and thy account
of the beauties which grace the court of the Melecli Ric,
that I ventured mne thither in disguise, and thereby procured a sighlt the most blessed tllhat I have ever enjoyed
-that I ever shall enjoy, until the glories of Paradise
beam on my eyes?"'I understand tyou not," said Sir Kenneth, colouring
alternately, and turning pale, as one who felt that the
conversation was taking a tone of the most painful delicacy.
" Not understand me!" exclaimed the Emir.  "If
the sight I saw in the tent of King Richard escaped thine
observation, 1 will account it duller than the edge of a
buffoon's wooden falchion.  True, thou wert under sentence of death at the time; but, in my case, had my head
been dropping from the trunk, the last strained glances of
my eye-balls had distinguished with delight such a vision
of loveliness, and the head would have rolled itself towards the incomparable houris, to kiss with its quivering lips the hem of their vestments.-Yonder royalty of
England, who for her superior loveliness deserves to be
Queen of tile universe- what tenderness in her blue
eye —what lustre in her tresses of dishevelled gold!By the tomb of the prophet, I scarce think that the houri
who shall present to me the diamond cup of immortality,
will deserve so warm a caress!"
6' Saracen," said Sir Kenneth, sternly, "thou speakest of the wife of Richard of England, of whom men
thinlk not and speak not as a woman to be won, but as a
lQueen to be revered."' I cry you mercy,"' said the Saracen.  "'  had forgotten your superstitious veneration for the sex, which
you consider rather fit to be wondered at and worship.
ped, than wooed and possessed.  I warrant, since tllou
exactest such profound respect to yonder tender piece
if trailty, whose every motion, step, and look, bespeaks




THE TALISMAN.                  -28t
her very woman, less than absolute adoration must lot
be yielded to her of the dark tresses, and nobly speaking eye.   She, indeed, I will allow, hath in her noble
port and majestic mien something at once.pure and firm
— yet even she, when pressed by opportunity and a forward lover, would, I warrant thee, thank him in her heart,
rather for treating her as a mortal than as a goddess."
"Respect the kinswoman of Coeur de Lion!" said
Sir Kenneth, in a tone of unrepressed anger.
" Respect her!" answered the Emir, in scorn-" by
the Caaba, and if I do, it shall be rather as the bride of
Saladin."
" The infidel Soldan is unworthy to salute even a spot
that has been pressed by the foot of Edith Plantagenet!'
exclaimed the Christian, springing from his couch.
"Ha! what said the Giaour?" exclaimed the Emir,
laying his hand on his poniard hilt, while his forehead
glowed like glancing copper, and the muscles of his lips
and cheeks wrought till each curl of his beard seemed to
twist aind screw itself, as if alive with instinctive wrath.
But the Scottish Knight, who had stood the lion-anger
of Richard, was unappalled at the tiger-like mood of the
chafed Saracen.
" What I have said," continued Sir Kenneth, with
folded arms and dauntless look, " I would, were my hands
loose, maintain on foot or horseback' against all mortals;
and would hold it not the most memorable deed of rnmr
life to support it with my good broadsword against a score
of these sickles and bodkins," pointing at the curved,abre and small poniard of the Emir.
The  Saracen  recovered  his composure  as the
Christian spoke, so far as to withdraw his hand from his
weapon, as if the motion had, been without meaning
but still continued in deep ire.
" By the sword of the prophet," he said, " which is
the key both of heaven and hell, lie little values his own
life, brother, who uses the language thou dost! Believe
me, that were thine hands loose, as thou term'st it, one
single true believer would find them so much to do, that




286         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.a
thou. would'st soon wish them fettered again in mnanacles
of iron."
"Sooner would I wish themn  hewn off by the shoulderblades," replied Sir Kenneth.
"' Well.  Thy hands are bound at present," said the
Saracen, in a more amicable tone, " bound by thine
own gentle sense of courtesy, nor have I any present
purpose of setting them  at liberty.  We have proved
each other's strength and courage ere now, and we may
again meet in a fair field;-and shame befill him wh"o
shall be the first to part firom his foeman!  But now we
are friiends, and I look for aid from thee, rather than hard
ternms or defiances."
" We are fiiends," repeated the knight; and there
was a pause, during which the fiery Saracen paced tli-e
tent like the lion, who, after violent irritation, is said to
take that method of cooling the distemperature of hIis
blood, ere lie stretches himself to repose in his den.
The colder European remained unaltered ill posture and
aspect; yet he, doubtless, was also engaged in subduing
thle angry feelings which had  been so ulnexpectedly
awakened.' Let us reason of this calmly," said the Saracen;
" I am a physician, as thou know'st, and it is written, that
he who would have his wound cured, must not shrinlk
when the leech probes and tents it.   Seest thou, I am
albout to lay my finger on the sore.   Thou lovest this
kinswoman of the  Meleclh Ric-Unfold  the veil that
shrouds thy thoughts-or unfold it not if thou wilt, for
mine eyes see through its coverings."
"I 1 loved her," answered Sir Kenneth, after a pause,' as a man loves Heaven's grace, and sued otr her favour
[.ke a sinner for Heaven's pa-rdon."
" And you love her no longer?" said the Saracen.
" Alas," answered Sir Kenneth, "I alm  no longer
wortlhy to love her.-I pray thee cease this dislourserhy words are poniards to me."
"Pardon mne but a moment," continued  Ilderim.
~' When tmou, a poor and obscure soldier. didst so boldly




THE  TALISMAN.                   281
-4td so lighly fix thine affection, tell me, hadst thou good.lope of its issue?"
"Love exists not without hope," replied the knight' but mine w-as as nearly allied to despair, as that of the
sailor swimming for his life, who, as he surmounts billow
aftier billow, catchles by intervals some gleam of the distant beacon, whlich shows himn there is land in siglt,
though his sinking heart and aearied limbs assure him
that lie shall never reach it.'
"And now," said Ilderim, " these hopes are sunkthat solitary light is quenched for ever?"' For ever," answered  Sir Kenneth, in the tone of an
echo from the bosom of a ruined sepulchre.
M" Metlhinkls," said the Saracen, "if all thou lackest
were some such distant meteoric glimpse of happiness
as thli- hadst formnerly, thy beacon-ligllt miglit be rekindled, tlly lhope fished Lip from thie ocean in which it
has sunk, and thou thyself, good knight, restored to the
exercise and amusenment of nourishing tly fiantastic pas1ion upon a diet as tnsubstantial as moonliglt; for, if tlhou,tood'st to-m-orrow fair in reputation as ever thlou welt,
she whom thou lovest will not be less the daugliter of
princes, and the elected bride of Saladin."
"I would it so stood," said the Scot,'" and if I did
not-"
He stopt short, like a man who is afraid of boasting,
under circumstances which did not p)ermlit his being put
to the test.   The Saracen smiled as lie concluded the
senten ce.
"Tlhou   ouldst challenge the Soldan to single combat?" said lie.
"And if I did," said Sir Kenneth, lhaughltily, " Saladin's would neither be tile first nor thle best turban that I
have cotcitced lance at."
"Ay, but nletllinlks tlle Solclan  niglit regard it as too
tinelqual a mnode of perilling tle chance of' a royal bride,
and the event of a great war," said the Emir.
803




2S88        TALES OF THE CRUSADEIRS.
" He may be met with in the front of battle," said the
knight, his eyes gleamning with the ideas which such a
thought inspired.
"He has been ever found there,'" said llderim; " nor
is it his wont to turn his horse's head from  any brave
encounter.-But it was not of the Soldan that I meant
to speak.  In a word, if it will content thee to be placed
in such reputation as may be attained by detection of
tile thief who stole the Banner of England, I can put
thee in a fair way of achieving this tasl-that is, if thou
wilt be governed; for what says Lokman, If the child
would walk, the nurse must lead him-if the ignorant
would understand, the wise must instruct."
"' And thou art wise, Ilderim," said the Scot,'" wise
though a Saracen, and generous, though an infidel.  I
have witnessed that thou art both.  Take, then, the
guidance of this matter; and so thou ask nothing of me
contrary to my loyalty and my Christian faith, I will
obey thee punctualiy.  Do what thou hast said, and take
my life when it is accomplished."
6' Listen thou to me, then," said the Saracen.  " Thj
noble hound is now recovered, by the blessing of that divine medicine which healeth man and beast, and by hi3
sagacity shall those who assailed him be discovered."
"t Ha!" said the knight, —" mlethinks I comprehend
thee-I was dull not to think of this!-"
-" But tell me," added the Emir,'" hast thou any followers or retainers in the camp, by whom the animal may
be known?"
"6 I dismissed," said Sir Kenneth, " my old attendant,
thy patient, withl a varlet that waited on him, at the time
when 1 expected to suffer death, giving him letters for
my friends in Scotland- there are none other to whom
the dog is familiar.  But then my own person is weil
known —my very speech will betray me, in a camp where
I have played no mean part for many months."
" Both he and thou shalt be disguised, so as to escap:e
even close examination.-I tell thee," said the Saracen,'that not thy brother in arms-not thy brother in bloo'l




XT hE   TALISMAN.'26
-— shalt discover thee, if thou be guided by my counsels.
Thou hast seen me do matters more difficult  he thlat
can call tile dying from the darkness of the shadow of
death, can easily cast a mist before the eyes of the living.
But mark me-there is still the condition annexed to this
service, that thou deliver a letter of Saladin to the neice
of the Melech Ric, whose name is as difficult to our Eastern
tongue and lips, as her beauty is delightful to our eyes."
Sir Kenneth paused before lie answered, and the Saracen observing his hesitation, demanded of him, " if lie
feared to undertake this message?"
" Not if there were death in the execution," said Sir
Kenneth; " I do but pause to consider whether it consists with my honour to bear tile letter of the Soldan, or
with that of the Lady Edith, to receive it fiomn a heathen
prince."
"' By the lhead of Aahommed, and by the honour of a
soldier-by the tomb at Mecca, and by the soul of my
father," said the Emir, " I swear to thee that the letter
is written in all honour and respect.  The song of tlle
nightingale will sooner blight the rose-bower she loves,
than will the words of thle Soldan offend the ears of tile
lovely kinswoman of England."
" Then," said the knight, " I will bear the Soldan's
letter faithfully, as if I were nis born vassal;-understanding, that beyond this sipnlle act of service, which I
will render with fidelity, fiom me of all men lie can least
expect mediation or advice in this hlis strange love-suit."
" Saladin is noble," answered the Eimir, " and will
not spur a generous horse to a leap) which he cannot
achieve.-Come with me to my tent," lie added, "' and
thou shalt be presently equipped withl a disguise as unsearchable as midnight; so thou may'st walk the camp of
the Nazarenes as if thou hadst on thy finger the signet
of Gia0ougi."'
* Perhaps the same with Gyges.
VOL. II.




'290        TALE.IS O1F THE  CRUIAI.EURS.
CHAPTER XXIV.
--   A grain of dust
Soi'ing our cup, will make ourl sense reject
Fastidiously the draugllt which we did thirst for;
A rusted nail, placed near the faithful compass,
WVill sway it firom the truth, and wreck the argosy.
Even this small cause of anger and disgust
\Vill break the bonds of amity'mnallst princes.
And wreck their noblest purposes.
The Crusade.
THE. reader can now have little doubt who the Ethio.
pian slave really was, with what purpose he Ilad souight
Richard's camp, and wherefore and with what hope lihe
now stood close to the person of that Monarch, as, surroundled by his valiant peers of Englaandand Normandy,
Cemur de Lion stood on the summit of Saint George's
Mount,  with the Banner of England by his side, borne
by the most goodly person in the army, being his own
natural brother, William  with the Long Sword, Earl ol
Salisbury, the offspring of Henry tlle Second's amour
%with the celebrated Rosamond of Woodstock.
From  several expressions in thle King's conversation
with Neville on the preceding  clay, the Nubian was left
in anxious doubt whether his disguirse had not been penetrated, especially as that the King seemed to be aware
in wlhat manner thle agency of the dog was expected to
discover the thief wllo stole the Banner, althoughi the cireulnstance of such an animal's having been wounded on
the occasion, had been scarce mentioned ill Richard's
presence.  Nevertheless, as tle King continued to treat
him inl no otller inanner than his exterior required, the
Nubian remained uncertain wllethller le was or was not
discovered, and determined not to throw his disguise aside
voluntarilv.




TiHE TALISMAN. *,.!
Mleanwhile, the powers oI tile various crusading princes, arrayed under their royal and princelyt leaders, swept
in long order around tile base of the little moutnd; and
as those of each dififerent countly passed by, tlleir commanders advanced a step or two up the hill, and made a
signal of courtesy to Richard  and to tile Standard of
England, " in sin of regard and amity," as the protocol of the ceremony heedfully expressed it, " not of
subjection or vassalage."  The spiritulal dignitaries, w-ho
in tlhose days vailed not their bonnets to created being,
bestowed on tile King and his symbol of command their
blessin![ instead of rendering obeisance.
Thus the long files marched on, and, diminished as
they were by so many causes, appeared still an iron
ihost, to whllom the conquest of Palestine mighlt seem an
easy task.  The soldiers, inspired by the consciousness
of united strengtll, sat erect in their steel saddles, awhile it
seemed that tile trumpets sounded more cheerfully shrill,
and tile steedls, refieshed by rest and provender, chafed
on the bit, and trod the ground more proldly.  On they
passedl, troop after troop, b.anners waving, spears glancing, plunimes (lancing, in long perspective-(a host composed of cifferent nations, complexions, lanrguages, armns,
and appearanlces, but all fired, for the time, with the holy
yet rolantic ltpurpose of' rescuing the distressed daughlter
of Zion  romn  her thlraldom, and redeeming tile sacred
earth, whlichl more tlhan mortal had trodden, firom  thp
yoke of thle unbelieving P1agan.  And it must be owned,
that if, in otller cilcumstances, the species of courtesy
renderedi to thle King of England by so many warriors,
from wholn lhe claimed no natural allegiance, lad in it
somlething that might hlave been thought humiliating, yet
the natll e and cause of the war was so fitted to hlls preeminently chlivalrous character, and renowned  feats in
arms, that claims, which might elsewhlere have been
urged, were there forgotten, and the brave did willing
homage to the bravest, in an expedition where thfe most
undaunted  and energetic courage  was necessary  to




292         TALES OF THE CRUSATDEHRS.
The  good Kingl was seated on horseback about half
way up thle Mount, a m orin on1 lis head, surmounted by
a crown, which left his manly features exposed to public
view, as, with cool and considerate eye, he perused each
rank as it passed him, and returned the salutation of the
leaders. His tunic was of sky-coloured velvet, covered
with plates of silver, and his hose of crimson-silk, slashed
with cloth of gold.   By his side stood the seeming
Ethiopian slave, holding the noble dog in a leash, such
as was used in wood-craft.  It was a circumstance which
attracted no notice, for many of the princes of the crusade had introduced black slaves into their household,
in imitation of the barbarous splendour of the Saracens.
Over the King's head streamed the large folds of the
Banner, and, as he looked to it fronm time to time, he
seemed to regard a ceremony, indifferent to himself
personally, as important, when considered as atoning an
indignity offered to the kingdom which he ruled.  In
the back-ground, and on the very summit of the Mount,
a wooden turret, erected for the occasion, held the
Queen Berengaria and the principal ladies of the court.
To this the King looked firom time to time, and then ever
and anon his eyes were turned on the Nubian and the dog,
but only when such leaders approached, as, from circumstances of previous ill-will, he suspected of being accessary to the theft of the Standard, or whom he judged
capable of a crime so mean.
Thus, he did not look in that direction when Philip
Augustus of France approached at the head of his splendid troops of Gallic chivalry-nay, he anticipated the
motions of the French King, by descending the Mount
as the latter came up the ascent, so that they met in the
middle space. and blended their greetings so gracefully,
that it appeared they met in fraternal equality.   The
sight of the two greatest princes in Europe, in rank at
once and power, thus publicly avowing their concord
called forth bursts of thundering acclaim  from the crusading host at many miles' distance, and made the roving
Arab scouts of the desert alarm the camp of Saladiin




THE TALISMAIr.                293
with intelligcn( e, that the army of the Christians was ill
motion.  Yet who but the King of Kings can read the
heart3 of monarchs?  Under this smooth show of cuortesy, Richard nourished di:>plelasure and suspicion against
Philip, and Philip meditated withdrawing himself and
his host from the army of the Cross, and leaving Richard
to accomplish or fail in the enterprize with his own unassisted forces.
IRichard's demeanour was different when the darkarmed knights and squires of the Temple chivalry approached-men with countenances bronzed to Asiatic
blackness by the suns of Palestine, and the admirable
state of whose horses and appointments far surpassed
even that of the choicest troops of France and England.
The King cast a hasty glance aside, but the Nubian stood
quiet, and his trusty dog sat at his feet, watching with
a sagacious yet pleased look, the ranks which now passed before them. The King's look turned again on the
chivalrous Templars, as the Grand Master, availing himself of his mingled character, bestowed his benediction
on Richard as a priest, instead of doing him reverence
as a military leader.
"' The misproud and amphibious caitiff puts the monk
upon me," said Richard to the Earl of Salisbury.  i' But,
Long-Sword, we will let it pass. A punctilio must not
lose Christendom thle services of these experienced lances, because their victories have rendered them overweening.-Lo you, here comes our valiant adversary the Duke
of Austr'a-mark his manner and bearing, Long-Sword
-— and tnou, Nubian, let the hound have full view of
him. By Heaven, he brings his buffoons along with him!"
In fact, whether from habit, or, which is more likely,
to intimate contempt of the ceremonial he was about to
comply with, Leopold was attended by his spruch-sprechei
and his jester, and as he advanced towards Richard, he
whistled in what he wished to be considered as an irdifterent manner, though his heavy features evinced the
sullenness, mixed with the fear, with whichl  a tr,    i
0C  voT, IT




294          TALES OF THE C1tUSADElRSe
school-boy may be seen to approach his master.  As tne
eluctant dignitary made, wvith discomposed and sliky
look, the obeisance requuired, the spruch-sprecher shook.ils batoon, and, proclaimed like a herald, that, in what ihe
was now doing, tile Arch-Duke of Austria was not to be
held derogating fromn the rank and privileges of a sovereign prince; to which the jester answered with a so.norous anmenz, which provoked much laughter among the
bystan ders.
KJing Richard looked more than once at the Nubrian
and his dog; but the former moved not, nor did the latter
strain at the leash, so that Richard said to the slave with
some scorn, " thy success in this enterprize, my sable
fiiend, even thoiugh thou hIast brought thy hound's sagacity to back thine own, will not, I fear, place thee high in
the rank of wizards, or much augment thy merits towards
our person."
The Nubian answered, as usual, only by a lowly
obeisance.
Meantime the troops of the Marquis of Montserrat next
passed in order before the King of England.  That powerful and wily baron, to make the greater display of his
forces, had divided them into two bodies.  At the head
of the first, consisting of his vassals and followers, and
levied' from his Syrian possessions, came his brotller Enguerrand, and he hitnself followned, leading on a gallant
band of twelve hundred Stradiots, a kind of light cavalry
raised by the Venetians in their Dalrnatian possessions
and of which they lhad intrusted the command to the
Marquis, with whom the republic had many bonds of connexion.  These Stradiots were clothed in a fashion partly
lEuropean, but partaking chiefly of the Eastern fashion.
rlley wore, indeed, short hauberks, but had over them
particoloured tunics of rich stuffs, with large wide pantaloons and half-boots.  On their heads were straiglh
upright caps, similar to those of the Greeks, and they
3arried small round targets, bows and arrows, scimitars.
andl poniards.'rhey were mounted on horses, carefully
selected, and well maintained at the expeInse of the Stat,




TIHlE TALISMAN.                295
of Venice; their saddles and appointm( nts res(nabled
those of the Turks, and they rode in the 3amie manner.
with short stirrups and pllon a hligh seat.  These troops
were of great use in skirmishing with the Arabs, though
unable to engage in close combat, like the iron-sheathe(
men-at-armlns of'  estern and Northern Europe.
Before this goodly band came Conrade, in the same
garb with the Stradiots, but of such rich stuff that he
seemed to blaze with gold and silver, and the niilk-ixvhite
plume fastened in his cap by a clasp of liamonds, seemed tall enough to sweep the clouds.  The noble steed
which lie reined bounded and caracoled, and displayed
his spirit and agility in a manner vwhich might have
troubled a less admirable horseman than the Marquis, who
gracefully ruled him with the one hand, while the other
displayed the batoon, whose predominancy over the ranks
which he led seemed equally absolute. Yet his authority over the Stradiots was more in showt than in substance; for there paced beside him, on an ambling palfrey of soberest mood, a little old man, dressed entirely
in black, without beard or mustaches, and hlaving an
appearance altogether mean and insignificant, when compared with the blaze of splendour around him.  But
this mean-looking old man was one of those deputies
whom the Venetian government sent into camps to overlook the conduct of the generals to whom the leading was
consigned, and to maintain that jealous system of espial
and control, which had long distinguished the policy of
the republic.
Conrade, who, by cultivating Richard's humour, hall
attained a certain degree of favour with him, no sooner
was come within his ken than the King of England lie
scended a step or two to meet him, exclaiming, at the
same time, " Ha, Lord Marquis, thou at the head ol
the fleet Stradiots, and thy black shadow attending thee
as usual, whether the sun shines or not!-May not one
ask thee whether the rule of the troops remains with the
shadow or the substance?"




2.)6        TA,'IES OF THE CRUSADERS.
Collrade was commencing his reply with a smile, whent
Roswal, the noble hound, uttering a furious andt savage yell.
sprung forward. Thle Nubian, at the sane time, slipped the
leash, and the hound rushing on, leapt upon Conrade's noble charger, and seizing the Marquis by the throat, pu led
him down from the saddle.  The plumed rider lay rolling
on the sand, and the frightened horse fled in wild career
through the camp.'Thy hound hath pulled down the right quarry, I
warrant him —" said the King to the Nubian, "' and I
vow to Saint George he is a stag of ten tynes!-Pluck
the dog off, lest he throttle him."
The Ethiopian, accordingly, though not without difficulty, disengaged the dog from Conrade, and fastened him
up still highly excited, and struggling in the leash. Meanwhile many crowded to the spot, especially followers ol
Conrade, and officers of the Stradiots, who, as they saw
their leader lie gazing wildly on the sky, raised him up
amid a tumultuary cry of-" Cut the slave and his hound
to pieces!"
But the voice of Richard, loud and sonorous, was heard
clear above all other exclamations, —" He dies the death
who injures the -lound! He hath but done his duty, after
the sagacity with which God and nature have endowed the
brave anitnal.-Stand forward for a false traitor, thou Conrade, Marquis of Monserrat! I impeach thee of treason."
Several of the Syrian leaders had now come up, and
Conrade, vexation, and shame, and confusion struggling
with passion in his manner and voice, exclaimed, " What
means this?-With what arn I charged?-Why this base
usage, and these reproachful terms?-Is this the league
of Concord which England renewed but so lately?"
"' Are the Princes of the Crusade turned hares or'leers in the eyes of King Richard, that he should slip
hounds on them?" said the sepulchral voice of the Grand
Master of the Templars.
<' It must be some singular accident-some fatal mislake-" said Philip of France, who rode up at the same,'t)I-t I  i:3 t




THIE TALISMAN.                    97
" Some deceit of the Enemy," said the Archbishop ot
ryre.
" A stratagem  of thie Saracens,"  cried  Henry of
Champagne.-" It were well to hang up thle dog, and
put the slave to the torture."
" Let no man lay hand upon them," said Richardl
"as he loves his own life!-Conrade, stand forth, if
thou darest, and deny the accusation which this mute
anirmal hath in his noble instinct brought against thee, of
injury done to him, and foul scorn to England?"
"I never touched the Banner," said Conrade, hastily.
"Thy words betray thee, Conrade!" said Richard;
"for how didst thou know, save from  conscious guilt.
that the question is concerning the Banner?'
"  Hast thou then not kept the camp in turmoil on that
and no other score?" answered Conrade; " and dost
thou impute to a prince and an ally a crime, which, after
all, was probably committed by some paltry felon for the
sake of' the gold thread?  Or would'st thou now imnpeach a confederate on the credit of a dog?"
By this time the alarm was becoming general, so that
Philip of France interposed.
" Princes and nobles," he said, " you speak in presence of those whose swords will soon be at the throats
of each other, if they hear their leaders at such terms
together.  In the name of Heaven, let us draw off, each
his own troops, into their separate quarters, and ou'rselves meet an hour hence in the Pavilion of Council,
to take some order in this new state of confusion."
Content," said King Richard, " though I should have
liked to have interrogated that caitiff while his gay douhllet
was yet besmirched with sand.  But the pleasure of
France shall be ours in this matter."
The leaders separated as was proposed, each prince
placing himself at the head of his own forces  and then
was heard on all si(les the crying of war-cries, and the
sounding of gathering-notes upon bugles and trumpets
by whicll the. different stragglers were summoned to their
pirincc's banner; and the troops were shortly seen in




298         TALES OF/ THE CTJUSADERS.
motion, each taking different routes through the camn) tc
their own\ quatrters.  But altlough any imilediate act ol
violo.nce was tlLus preelnted, yet the accident which had11
taken place dwelt on every mind; and those foreigners,
wllo had tihat Inoriig hailedl Richartd as the worthliest
to lead their army, now resuined( their l)rejudices against
his pride and intolerance, while tle Englisll, conceiving
the honotur of their coulntry connected with the quarrel,
of which various reports had gone about, considered tlle
natives of other countries jealous of the famle of England
and her Kitlg, and disposed to undermine it by the mreanest arts of intrigue.  Many and various were the rumours
spread upon the occasion, and there was one which
averred that the Queen and her ladies had been much
alarmed by the tumult, and that one of them had swooned.
The council assembled at the ap)pointed hioulr.  Conrade had in the meanwhile laid aside his dishonoured
dress, and with it the shlame and confusion vwhich, in s-pite
of his talents and promptitude, had at first overwhelmed
him, owing to the strangeness of tile accident, and suddenness of the accusation.  Hie was now  robed like a
prince, and entered the council-chamber attended by thle
Archl-Duke of Austria, the Grand Masters both of thle
Temrple alnd of the Order of Saint.John, and several
other potelltates, whllo made a show of supporting Ililn
arnd detf itding his cause, chiefly perllias from  political
nmotives, or because tley thermselves nourished a personal
enrmity against Richard.
rhis aCppearaince otr union in favour of Conrade was
far fi'otl illflutlici.g the Kinlg of Englal(d.  He eniteredl
the  couiic.il iith his usual indfiTerevice of maniier, and
in the same dress in which he lha(d just alighted fromn
horseback.  He ctast a careless and somewhat scorfiil
glance on the leaders, wllo had with stuldie(l affect:ltion
arranged thelselves around Conrade, as if owning his
cause. and in the mnost direct termns charged Conrade of
Mlontserrat with having stolen the Banner of' Eilland,
and wounded the faithful inimal who stood in its defence.




'rHE TALISMA.AN                  299
Conrade arose boldly to answer, and in despite, as
he expressed himself, of rman and brute, king or dog,
avolchlled hlis innocence of tile crime charged.'Brotller of Enllgland," said Phililp, who willingly as
suined the clharacter of moderator of the assembly, " this
is an untLusual impeachment.  We do not hear you avouch
your ownI knowledge of this matter, farther tlhan your
belief resting uplon tle demeanour of this hound towards
tile Marquis of Montserrat.  Surely the word of a knight
and a prince should bear him  out against the barking
of a cur?'
" Royal brother," returned Richard, " recollect that
thle Almighty, who gave the dog to be companion of our
pIleasures and our toils, hath invested him with a nature
noble and incapable of deceit.  He forgets neither friend
nor foe-remembers, and with accuracy, both benefit
and injury.   He llatll a share of man's intelligence, but
no share of man's falsehood.  You may bribe a soldier
to slay a man with his sword, or a witness to take life by
false accusation; but you cannot make a hlound tear his
benefactor-lhe is the friend of man, save when man justly
incurs his enmity.  Dress )yontder Marquis in what peacock-robes vou xvill-disguise his appearance-alter his
complexion with drugs and washes-hide him amidst an
hutndred men-I will yet pawn my sceptre that tile hound
detects him, and expresses his resentment as you have
this day beheld.  This is no new  incident, althlough a
strange one. MiJurderers and robbers hlave been, ere now.
convicted, and suffered death under such evidence, and
men have said that the finger of God was in it.  In thine
own land, royal brother, and upon such an occasion, the
matter was tried by a solemn duel betwixt the naan and
the dog, as appellant and defendant in a challenge of nDurder.  Tlhe dog was victorious, thle man was punished,
and the crime was confessed.  Credit me, royal brother,
that hidden crimes have often been brougllt to light by
the Lestimony even of inanimate substances, not to mention animals far inferior in instinctive sagacity to the dog
twljo is thle fi'ilnd and cornmanion of our race."




~.00        TALES OF THE ClIUJSADERS.
" Such a duel there hath indeed been, roval brother,
answered Philip, " and that in the reign of one of oui
)redecessors, to whom God be gracious.  But it was in
the olden time, nor can we hold it a precedent fitting for
this occasion.  The defendant in that case was a private
gentleman, of small rank or respect; his offensive weapons
were only a club, his defensive a leathlern jerkin.  But we
cannot degrade a prince to the disgrace of using such rude
arms, or to the ignominy of such a combat."
" I never meant that you should," said King Ricnard; " it were foul play to hazard the good hound's
life against that of such a double-faced traitor as this
Conrade hath proved himself.  But there lies our own
glove-we appeal him  to the combat in respect of the
evidence we brought forth against him. A king, at least,
is more than the mate of a marquis."
Con.rade made no hasty effort to seize on the pledge
which Richard cast into the middle of the assembly, and(
King Philip had time to reply, ere the Marquis made a
motion to lift the glove.
" A king," said he of France, "'is as much more than a
match for the Marquis Conrade, as a dog would be less.
Royal Richard, this cannot be permitted.  You are the
leader of our expedition —the sword and buckler of Christenlldon."
" I protest against such a combat," said the Venetian
proveditore, "' until the King of England shall have
repaid the fifty thousand bezarnts which lie is indebted to
the republic.  It is enough to be threatened with loss of
our debt, should our debtor fall by the hands of the Pagans, without the additional risk of his being slain in brawls
amongst Christians, concerning dogs and banners."
" And I," said William with the Long-Sword, Earl of
Salisbury, " protest in my turn against my royal brotlher
perilling his life, which is the property of the people of
England, in such a cause.-Here, noble brotherl, receive
back your glove, and think only as if the wind had blovwn
from your hand. Mine shall lie in its stead.  A king's




THE TAlAtSM AN.                 30 1
son, thotugh with the bar sinister on his shlield, is at least
a mnatch for this marmozet of a marquis."
"  Princes and nobles," said Conrade,  I'  will not accept of King Richard's defiance. -He hath been chosen
our leader against the Saracens, and if' his conscience
can answer the accusation of provoking an ally to the
field oin a quarrel so frivolous, mine, at least, cannot endurn: the reproach of accepting it.  But touching   lhis
bastard brother, William of Woodstock, or against any
other who shall adopt, or shall dare to stand godfather
to this most false charge, I will defend my honour in the
lists, and prove whosoever impeaches it a false liar."
"The Marquis of Montserrat,  said the Archbishop of
Tyre,'"llath spoken like a wise and moderate gentleman;
and methinks this controversy might, without dishonour
to any party, end at this point."
M Methinks it might so terminate," said the King of
France, " provided King Richard wvill recall his accusation, as made upon over slight grounds."
"Philip of France," answered Cocur de Lion, "' my
words shall never do my. thoughts so much injury.  I
have charged yonder Conrade as a thief, who, under
cloud of night, stole firom its place the emblem of England's dignity.  I still believe and charge him to be such;
and when a day is appointed for the combat, doubt not
that, since Conrade declines to meet us in person, I will
find a champion to appear in support of my challenge;
for thou, William, must not thrust thy long sword into
this quarrel without our special license."
C" Since my rank makes me arbiter in this most unhappy matter," said Philip of France, " I appoint the
fifth (lay from hence for the decision thereof, by way of
combat, according to knightly usage-Riciard, King  of
England, to appear by his champion, as appeilant, and
Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, in his own person, a4
dlefendant.  Yet I own, I know not where to find neutral
ground where such a quarrel may be fought out; for it
tmust not be in the neighbourhood of this camp, where
VOL. II.




.302        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
the soldiers would make faction on tile differt t i
sides."' It were well," said Ricliard, " to apply to the generosity of the r'oyal Saladin, since, heathen as he is, 1
have never known knight more fulfilled of nobleness, or
to \whose good faith we may so peremptorily intrust ourselves.  1 speak thus for those who may be doubtful of
rnishap-for myself, wherever I see my foe, I make that
spot my battle-ground."
" Be it so," said Philip; " we will make this matter
known to Saladin, althougl  it he showing to an enemy
the unhappy spirit of discord which we would willingly
llide from even ourselves, were it possible. 1leanwhile,
I dismiss this assembly, and charge you all, as Christian
men and noble knigh ts, that ye let this unhappy feud
breed no farther brawling in the camnp, but regard it as a
thing  solemnly referred to the judgment of God, to
whom each of you should pray that he, will dispose of
victory in the combat according to the truth of the quarrel; and therewith may His will be done!'
" Amen, amen!" was answered on all sides; while the
Templar whispered the Marquis, " Conrade, wilt thou
not add a petition to be delivered  friom  the power of
the dlog, as the Psalmist hath it?"
"Peace, thou — " replied the Marquis;' there
is a revealing (lemon abroad, which may report, amongst
other tidlings how  fIar thou dost carry the motto of thy
order-l.'eriatur Leo."
" Tlhou wilt stand the brunt of challenge?" said the
Temnplar.
"' Doubt me not," said Conrade.  " I would not, indeed, l:ave willingly met the iron arm of Riclard himself,
and I sllhame not to confess that I rejoice to be free of his
encounter.  But, firom his bastard brother downward,
the nman biceathes not in his ranks whom I fear to meet."
It is well youi are so confident,' continued the Tempar'; " and in that case, the fangs of yonder hound have
done more to dissolve this league of princes, than either
hly derrices, o- the dagger of the Charegite.  Seest thou




TUE TALISM AN.                     303
hi11, under a brow studiously overclouded, Philip cannot
conceal tile satisfaction which he feels at the prospect
of release firoln thle alliance which sat so heavy on him'
Mlark how Heniry of Chanpl)agne smiles to hlimself, like
a sparkling golflet of his owvn wine-and see the clluckling- delight of' Austria, wlio tlinks his quarrel is about
to be avenged, without riski or trouble of his own.  Hush,
hec approaclles.-A  most grievous chance. most royal
Austria, that these breaches in thle walls of our Zion —"'" If thou meanest this crusade," replied the Duke, "1
would it were crumbled to pieces, and each were safe
at home. —-I speak this in confidence."
"1 But," said the Marquis of Montserrat, " to thinlk
this disunion should be made by the hands of King Richard, for whose pleasure we have been conitented to endure so much, and to whom we have been as submtissive
as slaves to a malster, in hopes that he would use his
valour agaillst our enemies, instead of exercising it upon
our firiends!"
"' I see not that lie is so much more valorous than
others," said the Archl-Duke.  "I believe, had the noble
Mlarquis met him  in the lists, lie would have had the
better; for, thoughi the islander deals iheavy blows with
the pole-axe, lie is not so very dexterous with the lance.
I should have cared little to have mnet him  myself on
our old qularrel, had the weal of Christendom permitted
to  sovereign prilces to breathe themselves in the lists
-And  if thou desirest it, noble Marquis, I will myself
be your godfather in this combat."
"And I also," said the Grand Master.
"Cotne, then, and take your nooning in our tent, tobOle
sirs," said the Duke, " and we'll speak of this business,
over some riglt nierenstein."
They entered together accordingly.
What said our })at'ro!l and these great folks together?'
said Jonas Sclwvanker to hlls comnpanion, the s]pruchprechier, vwho 1had used the freedom  to press nigh to
his master wlhen the council was dismissed, while the ies
ter Waited at a nore respectful distance.




304        TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
o" Servant of Folly," said the spruch-sprecher, " modinrate thy curiosity-it beseems not that I should tell to
thee the councils of our master."
" Man of wisdom, you mistake," answered Jonas;' we are both the constant attendants on our patron, and
It concerns us alike to know whether thou or IV-Wisdom
or Folly-have the deeper interest in him."
" He told to the Marquis," answered the spruchsprecher, " and to the Grand Master, that he was a-weary
of these wars, and would be glad he was safe at home."
" That is a drawn cast, and counts for nothing in the
game," said the jester; "it was most wise to think thus,
out great folly to tell it to others-proceed."
" Ha, hem!" said the spruch-sprecher; " he next
said to them, that Richard was not more valorous than
others, or over dexterous in the tilt-yard."
"Woodcock of my side," said Schwanker;'" this was
egregious folly. What next?"
"Nay, I am something oblivious," replied the man ot
wisdom —" he invited them to a goblet of nierenstein."
" That hath a show of wisdom in it," said Jonas,
" thou may'st mark it to thy credit in the meantime; but
an he drink too much, as is most likely, I will have it
pass to mine.  Any thing more?"
6 Nothing worth memory,"  answered the orator,
"only he wished he had taken the occasion to meet Richard in the lists."
"Out upon it-out upon it!" said Jonas-"4 this is
such dotage of folly, that I ami well nigh ashamed of
winning the game by it.-Ne'ertheless, fool as he is, we
will follow him, most sage spruch-sprecher, and have our
share of the wine of nierenstein."




TIE'TALISM  A  }b
CHAPTER XXV.
Yet this inconstancy is such,
As thou too shalt adore;
I could not love thee, love, so much,
Loved 1 not honour more.
MONTROSE's Libws.
WHIEN King Richard returned to his tent, he commanded tle Nubian to be brought before him.   He
entered with his usual ceremonial reverence, and, having  prostrated himself, remained standing before the
King, in the attitude of a slave awaiting the orders of
his master.  It was perhaps well for him, that the preservation of his character required his eyes to be fixed
on the ground, since the keen glance with which Richard
for some time surveyed him in silence, would, if fully
encountered, have been difficult to sustain.
"Thou canst well of wood-craft," said the King, after
a pause, " and hast started thy game and brought him
to bay, as ably as if Tristrem himself had taught thee.8
But this is not all —he must be brought down at force.
I myself would have liked to have levelled my huntingspear at him. There are, it seems, respects which prevent this. Thou art about to return to the camp of the
Soldan, bearing a letter, requiring of his courtesy to
appoint neutral grountd for the deed of chivalry, and,
should it consist with his pleasure, to concur with us in
witnessing it.  Now, speaking conjecturally, we think
thou might'st find in that camp some cavalier, who, for
the love of truth, and his own augmentation of honour,
will do battle with this same traitor of Montserrat?"
The Nubian raised his eyes and fixed them on the
King with a look of eager ardour; then raised them tc
Heaven with such s lemn gratitude, that the water soon
VOL II.




TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS.
glistened in them-then bent his head, as affirming what
Richlard desired, and resumed his usual posture of submissive attention.
"It is well," said the King; "and I see thy desire tc
oblige me in this lmatter.   Anld herein, 1 must needs
say, lies the excellence of suchl a servant as thou, who
hast not speech either to debate our purpose, or to reqtire exp!anation of what we lhave determined.   An
English serving-man, in thy place, had given me his
dogged advice to trust the combat wvith some good lance
of my househlold, wlho, from  my brother Longsword
downwards, are all on fire to do battle in my cause; and
a clattering Frenchman had made a thousand attempts
to discover wllerefore I look for a champion from  the
camp of the infidels.  But thou, my silent agent, canst
do mine errand without. (uestioning or compreliending
it; with thee to hear,is to obey."
A bend of the body, and a genuflection, were the a;)propriate answer of the Ethiopian to these observations
" And now  to another point,"  said the King, and
speaking suddenly and rapidly.-" Have you yet seen
Edith Plantagenet?"
The mute looked up as in the act of being about to
speak-nay, his lips had begun to utter a distinct nega.tive-when the abortive attempt died away in the. imperfect murmurs of' the dumb.
"Why, lo you there!" said the King.  " The very
sound of the name of a royal maiden, of beauty so surpassing as that of our lovely cousin, seems to have power enough well nigh to make the dumb speak.  What
miracles then might her eye work upon such a subject 
I will make the experiment, friend slave.  Thou -halt see
tllis choice beauty of our court, and do the errand of the
princely Soldan."
Again a joyful glance-again  a genuflection-but,
as lie arose, the King laid his hand heavily on his shoulder, and proceeded with stern gravity thus.-" Let me
min one thing warn you, my sable envoy.  Even if thou
edould'st feel that the kindly influence of her, whom thou




THIE TALISNIAN.                  307
art soon to behold, should  loosen the bonds of thy
tongue, presently imprisoned, as the good Soldan expres-.
ses it, wxithin the ivory walls of its castle, beware llow
thou cllangeat thy taciturn character, or speakest a word
in lher plesence, even if thy l)powers of utterance were
to be mirnaculously restored.  Believe me, that I should
have thy tongue, extracted  by the roots, and its ivory
palace, that is, I p)resumle, its range of teeth, drawn out
one by one.  Whllerefore, be wise and silent still."
The Nubian, so soon as the King had removed his
heavy grasp fiom his shoulder, bent hlls head, and laid
his hand on his lips, in token of silent obedience.
But Richard again laid his ]land on him more gently
and added, " This beliest we lay on thee as on a slave
Wert thou knight and gentleman, we would require thinE
honour in pledge of thy silence, wlhicll is one especial
condition of' our present trust."
The Ethiopian raised  his body  proudly,  looked
full at the King, and laid his right hand on his heart.
Richllard then summoned lhis chamberlain.
" Go, Neville," fhe said,': with this slave, to the leni
of our royal consort, and say it is our pleasure that he
have  an audience-a private audience-of our cousin
Edith.  He is charged with a commission to her. - Thou
canst show  him  tile way also, in case he requires th)l
guidance, thoughl thou Imay'st have observed it is wonderful how familiar he already seems to be wsith the purlieus of our camp.-And tho,. too, friiend Ethiop," the
King continued, "' wNhat thou dost do quickly, and return
hither within the half hour."
" I stand discovered," thought the seeming Nubian,
as, with downcast looks and folded arms, lie followed thle
hastv stride of Neville towards the tent of Queen Berengaria. -' I stand un(toubtedly discovered and unfolded
to King Richard; yet 1 cannot perceixve tlhat his resentment is hot arainst me.  If I understan(td his words. and
surely it is impossible to misinterp)ret tlhem,  he gives me
a noble cllance of redeelin  111y hono11r 1up)On the cresi
of this fatlse Marquis, wrlhose t!ilt I read in his craven




~]{|~       TALES OF TifE' CI'iSkADEIts.
eye and quivering lip, when the charge was ma le againAl
him. —Roswal, faithfully hast thou served thy master, and
most dearly shall thy wrong be avenged!-But what is
the meaning of my present permission to look upon her,
whom I had despaired ever to see again?-And why or
how can the royal Plantagenet consent that I should see
his divine kinswoman, either as the messenger of the
heathen Saladin, or as the guilty exile whom lie so lately
expelled from  his camp-his audacious avowal of thle
afiection which is his pride, being the greatest enhancement of his guilt?  That Richard slhoultd consent to
her receiving a letter from an infidel lover, by the lit:;ds
of one of such disproportioned rank, are either of thlifrn
circumstances equally incredible, and, at the same time,
inconsistent with each other.  But Richard, when unmoved by his heady passions, is liberal, generous, and
truly noble, and as such I will deal with, and act according to his instructions, direct or implied, seeking to know
no moi-e than may gradually  unfold itself without my
officious inquiry.   To him  who has given me so brave
an opportunity, to vindicate my tarnished honour, 1 owe
acquiescence and obedience, and, painful as it may be,
the debt shall be paid.   And yet,"-thus the proud
swelling of his heart farther suggested —" Caeur de Lion,
as he is called, might have measured the feelings of
others by his own.  I urge an address to his kinswoman!
I, who never spoke word to hler when I took a royal
prize froi  her hand-when I was accounted not tilhe
lowest in feats of chivalry among the defenders of the
Cross!  I  approach her when in a base disguise, and
in a servile habit-and, alas! wllen my actual condition;s that of a slave, with a spot of dishonour on that which
was once my sllield!  I do this! He little knows mie.
Yo't I thanl lhim for the opl)ortlunity wllich may make us
all better acquainted with each other."
As lie arrived at this conclusion, they paused before
the enltrance of the Queen's pavilion.
They were of course admitted by the guards, and
Veville, leaving thle Nubian in a small apartnlent or ante




THE TA L I S.N.              99
chamber, which was but too well remembered by him,
passed into that whvich was used as the Queen's presence-chamber.  He communicated his royal master's
pleasure in a low and respectful tone of voice, very different from the bluntness of Thomas de Vaux, to whom
Richard was every thing, and the rest of the court, including Berengaria herself, was nothing.  A burst o.
laulghter followed the communication of his errand.
" And what like is the Nubian slave, who comes aimbassador on such an errand from the Soldan?-a negro,
De Neville, is he not?" said a female'voice, easily recognized for that of Berengaria.  "' A negro is he not,
De Neville, with black skin, a head curled like a ram's,
a flat nose, and blubber lips —ha, worthy Sir Henry?"
"Let not your Grace forget the shin-bones," said
another voice, "bent outwards like the edge of a Saracen scimitar."
" Rather like the bow of a Cupid, since he comes
upon a lover's errand," said the Queen.  " Gentle
Neville, thou art ever prompt to pleasure us poor women,
who have so little to pass away our idle moments. We
must see this messenger of love.  Turks and Moors
have I seen many, but Negro never."
"I am created to obey your Grace's commands, so
you will bear me out with my sovereign for doing so,"
answered the debonair knight.   " Yet, let me assure
your Grace, you will see somewhat different from what
you expect."
" So much the better-uglier yet than our imaginations
can fancy, yet the chosen love-messenger of this gallant
Soldan!"
" Gracious Madam," said the Lady Calista, " may I
implore you would permit the good knight to carry
this messenger straight to the Lady Edith, to whom his
credentials are addressed?  We have already escaped
hardly for such a frolic."
1" Escaped?"-repeated the Queen scornfully.  " Yet
thor  may'st be right, Calista, in thy caution-let this




2,10         TALEAS OF TFlXE; CRUSA3DERIt
Nubian, as thou callest him, first do his errand to our
cousin -Besides, lhe is mute too —is he not?"
"He is, gracious Madam," answered tile knight.
Royal,oort have these Eastern ladies," said Berenganra,;' attended by tlhose before whom71    they inmay say
any thing, yet who can report nothing.  Whereas ill our
cainp, as the Prelate of Saint Jude's is wont to say, a
bird of the air will carry the matter."
6 "Because," said De Neville, "your Grace forgets
that you speak within canvass wvalls."
The voices sunk on this observation, and after a little
whispering, the English  knight again returned to the
Ethiopian, and made him  a sign to follow.   He did so,
and Neville conducted him to a pavilion, pitched somewhat apart fromn that of the Queen, for the accommodation, it seemed, of the La(ly Edith and her attendants.
One of her Coptic maidens received the message cornmunicated by Sir [-enry Neville, and, in the space of a
very few minutes, the Nubian was ushered into Edith's
presence, while Neville was left on the outside of the
tent.  The slave who introduced hin xvithdrew  on a
signal from her mistress, and it was with ihumiliation, not
of the posture only, but of the very inmost soul, ttlat
the unfortunate knight, thus strangely disguised, threw
hirnself on one knee, with looks bent on the ground, and
arms folded on his bosom, like a criminal who expects
his dooln.  Edith was clad in the same manner as whllen
she received King  Richard, her long transparent dark
veil hanging arloulld tier like the shade of a summer night
on a beautifull landscape, disguising and rendering obscure
the beauties wliich it cotld not hide.   She held in her
hand a silver lamp, fed witl some aromatic spirit, wlhich
burned with unusual brightness.
When Edith came within a steo of the kneeling and
motionless slave, she held the light towards his face, as
if.to peruse hlis features more attentively, tllen turned'rom limrn, and placed her lamp so as to throw tile shadow
of his face in profile upon the curtain wllichl hung be



THlE TALISMAN-                   31 
lide.  She at length spoke in a voice compcsed, yce
deeply sorrowful.
"Is it you?  Is it indeed you, }brave Knight of the
LJeoi:.lrd —gallant Sir Kenneth of Scotland —is it indeed
you?. —thus servilely disgulised —thus surrounded by all
1lundred dangers?"
At hearing tlhe tones of his lady's voice thus unexpectedly addressed to him, and in a tone of compassion aplpoaching to tenderness, a corresponding reply rushed to
tlhe knight's lips, and scarce could Richard's commands,
and his own promised silence, prevent his answering, that
the sight he saw, the sounds he just heard, were sufficient
to recompense thle slavery of a life, and dangers which
thleatened that life every hour.  He did recollect himsell', however, and a deep and impassioned sigh was his
inly reply to the high-born Edith's question.
" Isee-I know I have guessed riglht-" continued
Edith.  " I marked you from your first appearance near
the platform on which I stood with the Queen.  I knew,
too, your valiant hound.  She is no true lady, and is unworthy of the service of such a knight as thou art, friom
whom  disguises of dress or hue could conceal a faithful
servant.  Speak,then, without fear, to Edith Plantagenet.
She knows how to grace in adversity the good knight
NwNho served, honoured, and did deeds of arms in hier name
when fortune befriended him.-Still silent!  Is it fear or
shame that keeps thee so?  Fear should be unknown
to thee; and for shame, let it remain with those who have
wronged thee."
The knight in despair at being obliged to play the mute
in an interview so interesting, could only express his inortification by s,ghing deeply, and laying his finger upon his
lips.  Edith stepped back, as if somewal)t displeased.'" What!" she said,' thle Asiatic hiute in very deed,
as well as in attire?  This I looked not for.-Or tliou
nma' st scorn me, perhlaps, for thuts boldly acknowledging
that I have heedfuilly observed tile homag e thou hlast paid
me?  Hold nlo unvortlhy thoughts of Edith on tlhat accnunt.  Slle knows well the bounds wlhich reserve and




r312''TALES OF THE (tUSAJDERS.
mnodesty t rescribe to high-born maidens, and she knows
when and how far they should give place to gratitudeto a sincere desire that it were in her power to repay
services and repair injuries, arising from the devotion
which a good knight bore towards her. —Why fold thy
hands togtether, and wring them with so much passion? —
Can it be," she added, shrinking back at the idea —" that
their cruelty has actually deprived thee of speech?
Thou shakest thy head.  Be it a spell —be i obstinacy,
I question thee no farther, but leave thee to do thine erran;i after thine own fashion.  1 also can be mute."
The disguised knight made an action as if at once lamenlting his own condition, and deprecating her displeasure, w-hile at the same time he presented to her, wrapped,
as usual, in fine silk and cloth of gold, the letter of the
Soldan.  She took it, surveyed it carelessly, then laid it
aside, and bending her eyes once more on the knight, she
said in a low tone-" Not even a word to do thine errand
to me?"
He pressed both his hands to his brow, as if to intl
mate the pain which he felt at being unable to obey her;
but she turned fi-om him in anger.
"Begone!" she said.  "I have spoken enough-too
much-to one who will not waste on me a word in reply.
Begone!-and say, if I have wronged thee, I have done
penance; for if I have been the unhappy means of dragging thee down from a station of honour, I have, in this
interview, forgotten my own worth, and lowered myseli
in thy eyes and in my own."
She covered her eyes with her hand, and seemed
deeply agitated.  Sir Kenneth would have approached,
but she waved himn back.
" Stand off! thou whose soul Heaven hath suited to
its new station! Auglt less dull and fearful than a slavlls
mute had spoken a word of gratitude, were it but to reconcile me to my own degradation.  Why pause you?jegone i"
The disguised knight almost involuntarily looked towvards tile letter as an apology for protracting his stay.




THE TALISMAN.                   3! 3
She snatched it up, saying in a tone of irony and contempt, " 1 lad forgotten-the dutiful slave waits an answer
to his message.-How's this-firom the Soldan!"
She hastily ran over the contents, which were expres
sed both in Arabic and French, and wlhen she had done
she laughed in bitter anger.
" Now this passes imagination!" she said; "no jongleur can show  so deft a transmutation-!  His legerdemain can transform  zechins and bezants into doits
and maravedies; but can his art convert a Christian
knighllt, ever esteemed among tile bravest of the Holy
Crusade, into the dust-hissing slave of a heathen Soldan-the bearer of a Paynim's insolent proposals to
a Christian maiden-nay, forgetting the laws of honourable chivalry, as well as of religion! But it avails
not talking to the willing slave of a heathen hound.  Tell
your master, when his scourge shall have found thee a
tongue, that which thou hath seen me do."-So saying.
she threw the Soldan's letter on the ground, and placed
her foot upon it-"' And say to him that Edith Plantagenet'scorns the homage of an unchristened Pagan."
With these words she was about to shoot from  the
knight, when, kneeling at her feet in bitter agony, he ventured to lay his hand upon her robe and oppose her departure.
"  Heardst thou not what I said, dull slave?" she said,
turning short round on him, and speaking with emphasis:
"tell the heathen Soldan, thy master, that 1 scorn his
suit, as much as I despise the prostration of a worthless
renegade to religion and chivalry-to God and to his
lady!"
So saying she burst from him, tore her garment from
his grasp, and left the tent.
The voice of Neville, at the same time, summoned
him fromr without.  Exhausted and stupified by the distress lie had undergone during this interview, from which
he could only have extricated himself by breach of the
engagement which he had formed with King Richard,
the unfortunate knight staggered rather than wallked afiei
VOt. T1.




31 4           TALES  OF THE  CRUSADERS.
tile English baron, till they  reached the roya  pavilion
before wninctl a  larty of horsemen lI(ad just disnmounted.
Thiere was lil-it and motion witiin the tent, and when Nevilt  eliteled  with lhis disguised  nlttcnldalnt, tlhey  found
thlc  inz,, k wit h  several of his nolbility, engaged  in welcoming tlhose who were newly arrived.
CHAPTER XXVI.
"t The tears I shed must evcr fall 1
I weep not for an absent swvain,
For time Inay happier hours recall,
And parted lovers meet again.
" w weep not for the silent dead,'Their pains are past, their sorrows o'er,
And those that loved their steps must tread,
When death shall join to part no more."
But worse than absence, -worse than death,
She vwept }her lover's sullied fame[
And fired with all the pride of birth,
She wept a soldier's injured name.
Ballad.
THE frank and bold voice of Richard  was heard  in
joyous gratulation.
" Tlomas de Vaux! stout Tom  of the Gills! by thle
h[ead of King Henry thou art welcome to me as ever was
flask of vine to a jolly  toper!  I should  scarce  lhave
known how to order my battle  array, unless I had  thy
bulky form  in mine eye as a landmark to form  my ranks
upon.  XWe shall have blows anon, Thomas, if the saints
be gracious to us; and had we fought in tlhine absence,
I would have looked to hear of thy being found hanging
ulpon an elder-tree."
"I T should have borne  my disappointment with more
Christian l)atience, I trust," said Thomas de Vaux, " tl-an




THE TALXISMAN. 3.                  5
to have died the deatll of an apostate.  But 1 thank. your
Grace for my welcome, which is the more generous, as
it respects a banquet of blows. of whicll, saving your
)leasure, you are ever too apt to engross the larger sihare 
bult here have I brougllt one to whom your Grace will,.1
knowv. give a yet warmer welcome."
The person who now  stepped forward to make obeisance to Rlichard, was a young mian of low  stature a1nd
slight form.  His dress was as modest as his figlure was
unimpressive, but he bore on his bonnet a gold buckle,
with a gem, the lustre of which could only be rivalled
by thle brilliancy of the eye which the bonnet shaded.
It was the only striking feature in his countenance; but
when once noticed) it ever made a strong impression
on the spectator.  About his neck there lnitng in a scarf
of sky-blue silk a torest, as it was calledl,-tlhat is, thie key
with which a harp is tuned, and which was of solid gold.
This personage would have kneeled reverently to
Richard, but the monarch raised him  in joyful haste,
pressed him to his bosom warinly, -and kissed him on either
side of the face.' Blondel de Nesle!" lie exclaimed joyfully-~" welcome firom Cyprus, my king of minstrels! welcome to
the King of England, who rates not his own dignity more
highly than he does thine.  I have been sick, man, and,
by my soul, I believe it was for lack of thee; for, were
I halt way to the gate of Heaven, methinks thy strains
could call me back.-And what news, my gentle master, from the land of the lyre? Any thing'fiesh fronom
the trouveurs of Provence?-any thing from the minstrels of merry Normandy?-above all, hlast thou tlhy
self been bulsy?-But I need not ask thlee-thou can'st
not be idle if thou would'st-thy noble qualities are like a
fire burning   witlin, and compel thee to pour thyself out
111 lmuitsic an(l Sontr."'Somethling I lave learned, and somnethling I lave
done, noble King," answered the celebrated Biondel,
with a retiring modesty, which all Richard's enthusiastic
admiration of his skill h;id been unable to banish




10i       1TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.' We wvill hear thee, man —we will hear thee instantly," said the King;-then touching Blondei's shouldeI
kindly, he added, 1" that is, if thou art not fatigued with3
thy journey; for I would sooner ride my best horse to
death, than injure a note of thy voice."
" lMy voice is, as ever, at the service of my royal
patron," said Blondel; "' but your Majesty," he added,
looking at some papers on the table, " seems nmore importantly engaged, and the hour waxes late."
" Not a whit, man, not a whit, my dearest Blondel.
I did but sketch an array of battle against the Saracens,
a thing of a moment-almost as soon done as the routing
of them."
M: ethinks, however," said Thomas de Vaux, " it
were not unfit to inquire what soldiers your Grace hath
to array.  I bring reports on that subject from Askalon."
" Thou art a mule, Thomas," said the King-" a very
mule for dulness and obstinacy!-Come, nobles —a hall
-a hall!-range ye around him-Give Blondel the tabouret —Where is his harp-bearer? —or, soft —lend him
my harp, his own may be damaged by the journey."
" 1 would your Grace would take my report," said
Thomas de Vaux.  "' I lhave ridden far, and have more
list to my bed than to have my ears tickled."
" Thy ears ticlkled!" said the King; " that must be
with a woodcock's feather, and not with sweet sounds.
Hark thee, Thomas, do thine ears know  the singing of
Blondel from  the braying of an ass?"
" In faith, my liege," replied Thomas,'' I cannot well
say; but setting Blondel out of the question, who is a
Dorn gentleman, and doubtless of high acquirements, I
shall never, for the sake of your Grace's question, look
on a minstrel, but I shall think upon an ass."
" And might not your manners," said Richard, " have
excepted me, who am a gentleman born as well as Blondel, and like him a guild-brother of the Joyeuse science?"
" Your Grace should remember," said De Vaux
smiling, " that'tis useless asking for mamlers from a
InTlle."




THE TALISMAN.                 317
"Most tru.y spoken," said the King, "and an Il-conditioned animal thou art —But come hither, master mule,
and be unloaded, that thou may'st get thee to thy litter,
without any music being wasted on thee. —IMeantime do
thou, good brother of Salisbury, go to our consort's tent,
and tell her that Blondel has arrived, with his budget
fraught with the newest minstrelsy —Bid her come hither
instantly, and do thou escort her, and see that our cousin,
Edith Plantagenet, remain not bellind."
His eye then rested for a moment on the Nubian, with
that expression of doubtful meaning, which his countenance usually displayed when he looked at him.
" Ha, our silent and secret messenger returned?Stand up slave, behind the back of De Neville, and thou
shalt hear presently sounds which will make thee bless
God that he afflicted thee rather with dumbness than
deafness."
So saying, he turned from  the rest of the company
towards De Vaux, and plunged instantly into the military
details which that baron laid before him.
About the time that the Lord of Gilsland had finished his audience, a messenger announced that the Queen
and her attendants were approaching the royal tent." A flask of wine, ho!" said the King; " of old King
isaac's long-saved Cyprus, which he won when he stormed Famagousta-fill to the stout Lord of Gilsland, gentles-a more careful and faithful servant never had any
prince."
" I am  glad," said Thomas de Vaux, "that your
Grace finds the mule a useful slave, though his voice be
ess musical than horse-hair or wire."'S What, thou can'st not yet digest that quip of the
mule?" said Richard.  "Wash it down with a brimming
flagon, man, or thou wilt choke upon it. —Whty, so-well
pulled!-and now I will tell thee, thou art a soldier as
well as I, and we must brook each other's jests in the hall,
as each other's blows in the tourney, and love each other
the harder we hit.  By my faith, if thou didst not hit
31 voL. ii.




:318'IALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
me as hard as I did thee in our late encounter, thb a gavesi
all thyl wit to the thrulst.  But lhere lies tile difference
betwixt tlhee and Blondel.  Thou art but my comradeI might say my pupil-in the art of war; Blondel. is my
master in the science of minstrelsy and music.  To thee
I perimit the freedom of intimacy-to him I must do reverence, as to my superior in his art.  Come, man, be not
peevish, but remain and hear our glee."
"' To see  your Majesty in such clleerful mood," said
the Lord of Gilsland, " by my faith, I could remain
till Blondel had achieved the great Romance of King
Artllur, which lasts for tlllhree days."
" We wvill not tax your patience so deeply," said the
Kin,.  " But see, yonder glare of torches without shows
tlhat our consort approachles-Away to receive her, man.
and wvin thyself grace in the brightest eyes of Cihristendorn.-Nay, never stop to adjust thly cloak.  See, thou
hast let Neville comne between the wind and the sails of
thy galley."
" He was never before in the field of battle," said De
Vasux, not greatly pleased to see himself anticipated by
the Inore active service of the cliamberlain.'" No, neither he nor any one went before thee there.
mny good'rom  of tlhe Gills," said the King, " unless i
was ourself, now and then."
"Ay, rmy liege," said De Vaux, " and let us do justice to the unfortunate;-the unhappy Knight of the
Leopard hath been before me, too, at a season; for, look, ou, he weighs less on horseback, and so   "
"c Hush!" said the King, interrupting him  in a peremptory tone-"- not a word of h.im-" and instantly
stepped forward to greet his royal consort; and when lie
had done so, he presented to her Blondel, as King of
Minstrelsv. and llis master in thie gay science.  Berenuaria, who well knew that her royal husband's passion
for poetry and music almost equalled his appetite for
warlike farne, and that Blondel was his especial favourite,
took anxious care to receive him with all the flattering di.
tinctions due to onh  whom the King delighted to horr,'r




TIlE TALISMAN.                  31 9
Yet it was evident, that, though Blondel made suitable
returns to the compliments showered on him sometlhing
too abundantly )by tile royal beauty, he owned with deeper
reverence and more humble gratitude tile simple and
graceful welcomne of Edith, whose kindly greeting appeared to himn, perhaps, sincere in proportion to its brevity
and simplicity.
Both thle Queen and hler royal husband were aware
of this distinction, and Richard, seeing his consort somewhat piqued at tile preference assigned to his cousin, by
which perllaps he himself did not feel mucll gratified,
said in the hearing of both,- " We minstrels, Berengaria,
as thou may'st see by the bearing of our master Blondel,
oay more reverence to a severe judge, like our kinlswoman, than to a kindly partial friend, like thyself, who is
willinrg to take our worth ulpon trust."
Edith was moved by this sarcasm of her royal kinsman,
and hesitated not to reply, thlat, " To be a harsh and severe judge, was not an attribute proper to her alone of
all the Plantagenets."
She had perhaps said more, having some touch of the
temper of that house, whllich, deriving their name and
cognizance from  the lowly broom, (Planta Genista,)
assumed as an emblemn of humility, were perhaps one
of the proudest families that ever ruled in England;
butt hier eye, when kindling in hler reply, suddenly caught
those of the Nubian, although lie endeavoured to conceal
himself behind the nobles who were present, and slle
sunk upon a seat, turning so pale, thlat tle Quteen Blerengaria deemed herself obliged to call for water and essences, and to go through the other ceremonies appropriate to a lady's swoon.  Richard, wllho better estimated Editl's strength of mind, called to Blondel to assume
his seat and conmmence his lay, declaring, that minstrelsy
was wortlh every other recipe to recall a Plantagenet to!ife.-" Sing us," lie said, " that song of the Bloody
Vest, of which thou didst formerly give me the argumcnt
ere I left Cyprus; thou must be perfect in it by this
time, or, as our vyomen say, thy bow is broken'
"805




320           TALES OF THE  CRUSADERS.
The anxious eye of the  minstrel, however, dwelt oh
Edith, and it was not till he observed her returniing colour
that he obeyed  the repeated  commands of the King.
Then, accompanying  his voice with the harp, so as to
grace, but yet not drown, the sense of what lie sung, he
chanted in a sort of recitative, one of those ancient adventures of love and  knighthood, which  were wont ol
yore to win the public attention.  So soon as he began
to prelude, the insignificance of his personal alpearance
seemed to  disappear, and his countenance glowed with
energy and inspiration.  His full, manly, mellow  voice.
so absolutely under command of the purest taste, thrilled on every ear, and to every  heart.  Richard, rejoiced as after victory, called out the appropriate summons
for silence,
Listen, Lords, in bower and nall;
while, with the zeal of a patron at once and a pupil, he
arranged the circle around, and hushed them into silence:
and he himself sat down with an air of expectation and
interest, not altogether unmixed with the gravity of the
professed critic.  The courtiers turned their eyes on the
King, that they might be ready to trace and imitate the
emotions his features should  express, and Thomas de
Vaux yawned tremendously, as one who submitted unwillingly to a wearisome penance. The song of Blondel
was of course in the  Norman  language; but the vetses
which follow, express its meaning and its manner.'Twas near the fair city of Benevent,
Wlhen the sunl was settin on boutih and bent,
And knights w-ere prepariiin in bower and tent
01n the eve of the Bapistist tournament;
When in LTilcolii green a stripling gent,
XVell seelming a page by a prillcess sent,,ianlder'd tile camp, anid, still as he Nvent,
Inquired lbr the Englishman, Thomas a Kent.
Far hath he fared, and farther must fare,
Till he finds his pavilion nor stately nor rarerLittle save iron and steel was there;
And, as lacking the coin to pay arinourer's camea




'T' 1-1E  TALISMAN. Aa  I
W ith l Is sinewy arms to the shoulders hare,
T'he good k1n.ght w:tl hammner and file did repair
The mail that to-morrow  l.inst see him wear,
For the honourof Saint Johni anid hiis lady fair.
1 l'hits lspeaks my l\,'y," the page said he,
Antl tle klii'ht eit lotwl I tv Ioti liead and knee,' he is  -re   t's princess so high in d(egree,
Anld thou al t as lowly as knight Imray Nwell belie that \ouiild cli111) so lofti a tree,
Or scrinog such a gulf as divides ller from thee,
Musi tldare sollie Iigll deed, I) which aill men may see
HIis amnbitioni is bac k'd b)3 his lice chlivalrie.
" Therefore thus speaks my lady," the fair p1age he said,
Alnt tlle knigo'ht lowly louted witlh hand lrild with head,
"Flini asid  thl e g ood arniour in whichI thou airt clad,
Anrd t(!lr hlou this  ee(l of her night-gear instead,
Forl a hlaublerlk of steel, a kirtle of thread;
And clharg'e, thus attilred, ill tile toturnitament dread,
Arl  fidgltt Is thy wont is w\here most blood is shed,
Anrd Iring honour away, or remain with thie (dead."
Unrtroulled in hiis look, antil untroubled in his breast,
The knigiht tile weed hat- tak;en, anti reverently lath kiss'd;
" Notw Ilesseed be thle niolienlt, tle misseng'er ble tflest!
Mulclh holnolr'd do 1 hold me il n my ladil's higll behest;
Andl s;ay tlt nlm'y latly, in this decia night-weed driess'd,
To tile best armied'challpioln. will nilot vail mity crest,
leut if I liv-e anld bear mne Nwell. tlis her turn to take tile tes
Ilere, geintles, ends the fitrebnost fitte of' tile Lay of the Bloody Vest
" Thou last chanaged the measure upon us unaware;
in  that last couplet, my Blondel?"  said  the King.'"  Most trtle, my   L[ord,"  said  Blondel.    "I  rendered  the  verses from  the Italian  of  an  old  harper, whomn I
met in C)prus, and not havinii had  time either to translate
t accurately, or commit it to  memory, I am  fain to sup
ply  gaps inn  the  music  and  the  verse  as 1 can   upon the
spur of the moment, as you see boors mend a quickset
fence  with  a fagot."
"  Nay, on my   faith,"   said  the King,  " I like tllese
rattling  rolling  Alexanlldrines nmet links they come  mnore
twangingly  off  to the  music tllan  that briefer  measurle.";'l:otll are licensed, as is well known  to your Grace 
ans  ered  Blondcel.
" h' hey are so, Blonde]," said Richard; " yet methinks  the scene, where  there  is like  to be  fightirg,will
go best on in these same thundering Alexandriines. which




322           TALES OF THE  CRUSADItRS.
sound like the charge of cavalry; while tle otler measure is but like the sidelong amble of a ladt-y's paifrey."
"it shall be as your (race plea ses," replied Blondel,
and began again to prelude.
"Nay, first cherish thy fiLncy  with a cuip of fiery Cllios
wine,"  said the King;    anlll;llirk thee, I would hlave
thee fling  away that new-'fagiledl restriction of tlline, of;ernlinating in accurate and sitinlar rhye lllrs.  Tlley are a
constraint on thy flow of fatncy, and make thee resemble
a man dancin  in fetters."
" The fetters are easily flung off, at least," said Blon(lel, again sweeping his fingers over tile strings, as one
who would rather have played tlhan listened to criticism.
"  ut whlly put them on, mnan?" continued the lKing" Wherefore thrust thy genius into iron  bracelets?  I
marvel how you got forward at all-I aml sure I should
not have been able to compose a stanza in yonder hampered measulre."
Blondel looked down and busied hi-nselfwitll the strings
of his harp, to hlide an involuntary smiile which c rept over
his features; but it escaped not Ricllard's observation.
" By my faith, thlou laughl'st at me, Blondel," lie said;
and, in good truth, every mnan deserves it vllho presumes to play the master w!en lie slhould be the pllupil;
hut we kings  get bad habits of self-opinion.-Come,
on with thy lay, dearest Blondel-on after tlliine own
fashion, better than  aught tllat we can suggest, though
we must needs be talking."
Blondel resumed  the lay; but, as extemporaneous
composition was familiar to lim, he failed not to comp)ly
with thle King's hints, and was perhlaps not displeased
to show  with  10o   much.  ease lie could  niew-inodel a
tpoemn even while in the act of recitation.
Fyr'rE: SSECON-D.
The Baptist's fair morrow beheld gallant featsT!.erc was winIing of' hoinour, an1i losinll of' seatsThere was hewinl with fthlcheios,; and splintering of stavesg
The  eitors won glory, the vanquishl'd won graves.




TILE TALISMAN'..).2
0, many a knight there foulght bravely and well,
Yel one  vas ac(.(oulllce(l is leers to excx(l,
And'liwas lie whllose sole arlmur oi  otldv and breast,
8eeiii'd tL i weedl of a dainsel when bounld fbr her rest.
Tlere were somlle dealt him Nwont(ls that were bloody and  lore,
EPt others restl;etel  his plighlt tall f!? orme.
" It is soinie (lil of loiour. i tiny said, "  llld I trow,
I'v'ert tll lltig'htly to slav  i111 achieving lis \vw\\
Thelt   tile  liltce, tfir his sake, balde the totiu;nienet cease,
Ilc Iilg d(own Iais warder. the trulillcts s1l1', Ic.pe;c
Andl the judges dc(lare, alitl competitors vieid,
Tllat thle Knightlt of the Night-gear was first in thle field.
The feast it was nigh. and( thle mass it was niigher,
Wheii lbefiolre tilie fit lrincess low loutcld a Sluire,
And  cltliverel a garnientl t unseenilyv to view,?'itfil swiiril-cttt and s el)ar-thliist, tIl hiaick'I ald l)ierc'd  iromlug
All r'itl and Ill taltered(, all (clotled withil blo(d,
\ith baiti of' tihe torsos, with i(list, and with luritd
Not tle poiti off tlat lad(l's smill il filger. I ween,
Coulld have rested onI spi)t was utlsulied and clean.
"This token  mlIy ila.terl Sir Thomas a Kent,
Reslores to tile  ri'lcess of tilir ielleNellit;
t1e tlhat clilltiis tile lall lree ihas wotn right to the fruit,
lie  ttlet leapls tile wide  tilf' stioultl  prevail il his suit;
T'irougis   liti's titost -1peri tl; e prize I havee won,
And ilow Imust tile fiitlh of isy tlistress be shown:
For site swhlo  romlll)ts kiniglits oil suclh ilalger to run,
Alust avouch his true sert ice ill fitont of tile sull.
"; I restore,' says my master,' the garment I've worn,
And I claimt of' fie prinicess to do(10  it ill turnl;'For its stains an(d its relnts she shoullldl prize it the more,
Since tiy stiate'tis unisuillie(i, though crilisonld xilth gore."'
Tthein deiep Ilt:shl'u   the'rincess — et kissi(l she and press'd
The tIlood-spotted robes to hler lips and tier ibreast.
" (Go tell ni- Irie knigrill, ellurch asit chanbllc- shall show
If I value tfie blood ol tlhis garmelit or llo."
And when it was time for the nobles to pass,
11 solemn pirocessionl to minlster andt mass,
Tile first walk'd tie Prinicess inl pilrple and pall,
But the blood-besmearedi ilight-robt she wore over all;
And eke, inl the hall, whelrCe tlhey tall sat at dlite,
When she knelt to her t:ctler atnd priffier'l the wine,
Over all her rich robes and stte jewels, sitshe wore
That wrimple unseelily bedabbled w ith gore.
Tien lords wlNisper'd ladies. as well you may think,
Aid ladies trepliedl, with nod.il titter,;ltl( wink;
Alitd tile Prilnce, who ill anlgfr-  atll shamlne Il;lt look'd dawn,
Turn'd at length to his (taughter, and spoke withl  a frown
" Now since thllou  ast publisi'd thl  tol 1ly afnd gilt,
E'en atone with this halnd ior the bloodl hlou tlast sOit;




~'r~ TA LES OF TIHE  CPUJSADER.t
Yet sore for your boldness you both will repent,
When you w-allder as exilcs fiom fair 13enevent."
Then out spoke stout Thomlnas, in hall where he stood,
Exllaustuel and fieeble, but dauntless of mood:
Thl'e I,!oo( that I lost for this  daught er of tline,
I pour'd fbrth as freely as flask,ijves its wine;
Anid if f.r moy sake she blrooks peanlce and blame,
Do not doubt I will save her Tfromn slltfiring and shame,
And light will shle reck of thS princedom ald renlt,
When I hail her, in England, the Countess of Kent."
A murmur of applause ran through the assembly, following tile example of Richard himself, who loaded with
praises his favourite miinstrel, and ended by presenting
litn witl  a ring of considerable value.   The Queen
hlastened to distinguish the favourite by a rich bracelet,
and many of the nobles who were present followed the
royal example.
" Is our cousin  Edith,"  said the King, " become
insensible to the sound of tile harp) she once loved?"
" Shle thanks Blondel for his lay," replied Edith, " but
doubly tlle kindness of the kinsman who suggested it."' Tlhou art angry, cousin,"  said the King; " angry
because thou hast heard of a woman more wayward than
thyself.  But you escape me not —I  vill walk  a space
homieward with you towards the Queen's pavilion-we
must have conference together ere the night has waned
into morning."
The Queen and her attendants were now on foot, anc
the other guests withdrew from  the royal tent.  A trair
of blazing torches, and  an escort of archers, awaited
Berengaria without the pavilion, and she was soon on her
way homeward.  Richard, as lie had proposed, walked
beside his kinswoman, and compelled her to accept of his
arm  as her support, so that they could speak to each
other without being overheard.
" What answer then am  I to return to the noble So!dan?"  said Richard.   " The  Kings and Princes are
falling from  me, Edith-this new quarrel hath alienated
them  once more.  I would do something for the Holy
Sellllchre by compo-'tion. if not by victory: and tlhe




THF, TALISMAN.                325
chance oi my doing this depends, alas, on the caprice o1
a woman.  I wotuld lay my single spear in the rest against
ten of the best lances in Christendom, rather than argue
with a wilful wench, who knows not what is for her own
good.-What answer, coz, am I to return to the Soldan 
It must be decisive."
" Tell him," said Edith, "that tile poorest of the
Plantagenets will rather wed with misery than with misbelief."
" Shall I say with slavery, Edith?" sald the King,"  lethinkls that it is nearer thy thoughts."
" There is no room," said Edith, " for the suspicion
you so grossly insinuate.   Slavery of the body might
have been pitied, but that of the soul is only to be despised.  Shame to thee, King of merry England! thou
lhast enthralled both the limbs and the spirit of a knight,
once scarce less famed than thylself."
" Should I not prevent my kinswom.n from drinking
poison, by sullying the vessel which contained it, if I
saw no other means of disgusting her with the fatal liquor?" replied the King.
" It is thyself," answered Edith, " that would press
me to drink poison, because it is proffered in a golden
chalice."
"Edith," said Richard, "' I cannot force thy resolution; but beware you shut not the door which Heaven
opens.   The hermit of Engaddi, he whom Popes and
Councils have regarded as a prophet, hath read In the
stars that thy marriage shall reconcile me with a powerful enemy, and that thy husband shall be Christian, leaving thus [he fairest ground to hope, that the conversion
of the Soldan, and the bringing in of the sons of Ishmael
to the pale of the church, will be the consequence ot
thy wedding with Saladin.  Come, thou must make some
sacrifice rather than mar such happy prospects."
" Men may sacrifice rains and goats," said Edith
" but not honour and conscience   1 have heard that ii
was the dishonour of a 7hristian maiden which brought
VOL. TI




326          TAiES OF. TIIE  CRUSADERS.
the Saraceils into  Spain-the  shame of anothler is no
likely mode of expelling them fiom Palestine."
" Dost tthou call it shame to blecome an Empress?'
said the Killg.
" 1 call it shame and disllonour to profane a Christian
sacrament, by enterinr into it with an infidel whlom it
cannot bind, and I call it ibul dishonour that I, tile descendant of a Christian princess, silould become of fiee
will the head of a haram  of heathen concubines."
" Well, kinswoman," said the: King, after a paulse, " I
must not quarrel with thee, though l     think tlhy dependent condition mihllt have dictated more compliance."
"My liege," replied Edith, "' your Grace hath worthily succeeded to all the wealth, dignity and dominion
of the house of Plantagenet,-do  not, thlerefore, begrudge your poor kinswoman some small share of their
pride."
" By my faith, wench," said the King, " thou hast
unhorsed me with tlhat very wvord! so we will kiss and
be friends.  I will presently despatcll thy answer to Saladin.  But after all, coz, were it not better to Suspsend
your answer till you have seen him?  Men say lie is
preeminently handsome."
" There is no chance of our meeting, my lord," said
Edith.
" By Saint George; but there is next to a certainty
of it," said the King; " for Saladin will doubtless afford
us a free field for the doing of tllis new  battle of tile
Standard, and will witness it himself.  13erengaria is wild
to behold it also, and I dare be sworn not a feather of
you her comlpanions and attendants, will remain behlind
-least of all thou thyself, hiair coz.  But come, we lhave
reached the pavilion, and must part-not in unkindness
hliough-nay, thou must seal it with tly lip as well as thy
hand, sweet Edith-it is my right as a sovereign to kiss
my- pretty vassals."
He embraced her respectfully and affectionately, and
returned through the moonlitlt camp, humminIog to hlimself' such snatches of 13londel's lay as lie could recolleect




'F.::. TALISSMAN.                  327
Orn his arrival, he lost no time in making up his dlespatc!les for Saladin, and  delivered them  to thle Nubian
with a cllarge to set out by peep of day on his return to
tile Soldan.
CHAPTER XXVII.
We heard the Tecbir, —so these A rabs call''hcir shout of onset, whlen, wit:h loud acclaim,
They challenge heaven to give them victory.
Siegoe of Damascus.
ON the subsequent morning, Richard was invited to a
conference by Pliilip of France, in wh-licll thle latter, with
many expressions of his high esteem for his brother of
England, comlmunicated  to  him, in  terms extremely
courteous, btlt too explicit to be misunlderstood, his plositive intention to return to EuHrope, and to the cares of
his kinlldont,  as entirely  despairing  of fature success
in tlheir uindertaking, witli tlleir diminiished lorces and
civil discords.   Richard  remonstrated, but in  vain;
and  whien  tile  conference  ended, lie  received without surprise a manifesto from tile Duke of Austria, and
several otlher!)rilnces, announcing a resolution  sililar to
that of Philip, and in no modified terms, assgiigiig, for
their defection fiom tile cause of the Cross, tlhe inordinate ambition  and arbitrary domination of Richard of
England.  All hopes of continuing tile war witli any
prospect of ultimnate success, were now abandoned, and
Richard, while lie shed bitter tears over his disappointed
hopes of glory, was little consoled by tlle recollection,
that the failure was in some degree to be imputed to the
advantages whicl lie had given hlis enemies by his own
hasty ahnd imprudent temper.' Thley  lhad not dared to have deserted  my fathei
thus," lie saicd to Dle -Vax. in thle  bitterness of his re




;.28         TALES OF THIE CRUSADERS,.entmnent.-" No slanders they could have uttered aamnst
so wise a King would have been believed ill Christendomn; whereas-fool that I am!-I lave not only afforded them a pretext for deserting me, but even a colour for casting all the blame of the rupture upon my unha)ppy foibles."
Thllese thoughts were so deeply galling to the King,
that DeVaux was rejoiced whlen the arrival of an ambassador from Saladin turned his reflections into a different channel.
This new envoy was an Emir much respected by the
Soldan, whose name was Abdallah el Hadgi.   He derived his descent from the family of the Prophet, and the
race or tribe of Hashem, in witness of which genealogy
he wore a green turban of large dimensions.  He had
also three times performed the journey to Mecca, from
wllich he derived his epithet of El Hadgi, or the Pilgrim.
Notwitlistanding  these various pretensions to sanctity,
Abdallah was (for an Arab) a boon companion, who
enjoyed a merry tale, and laid  aside his gravity so far
as to quaff a blithe flagon, when secrecy insured hitm
against scandal.  He was likewise a statesman, whose
abilities had been used by Saladin in various negotiations with the Chlistian Princes, and particularly with
Richard, to whom  El Hadgi was personally known and
acceptable.  Animated by the cheerful acquiescence
witll which the envoy of Saladin afforded a fair field for
the combat, a safe conduct for all who might choose to
witness it, and offered his own person as a guarantee of
his fidelity, Richard soon forgot his disappointed hopes,
and the approaching dissolution of the Christian league,
in the interesting discussions preceding a combat in the
lists.
The station, called the Diamond of the Desert, was
assigned for the place of conflict, as being nearly at an
equal distance betwixt the Christian and Saracen camps,
It was.agreed that Conrade of Montserrat, the defetndant, with his godfathers, the Arch-Duke of Austria and
hde Gr4ind Master of the Templars., fhou)ld appear the-r




THE TALISMAN.                   329
on the day fixed for the combat, w\ith an hund'id armn
ed followers, and no more; that Richard of England,
and his brother Salisbury, xwho supported the accusation, should attend with the same number, to protect
hlis chIampion  and that the Soldan should bring with
him a guard of five hundred chosen followers, a band considered as not more than equal to the two hundred Christian lances.   Such persons of consideration as either
party chose to invite to witness the contest, were to
wear no other weapolns than their swords, and to come
without defensive armnour.  The Soldan undertook the
preparation of the lists, and to provide accommodations
and refieshments of evervy'kind for all who were to assist
at the solemnity; and his letters expressed, with much
courtesy, the pleasure which he anticipated in the prospect of a personal and peaceful meeting witll the Melech
Ric, and his anxious desire to render his reception as
agreeable as possible.
All preliminaries being arranged and communicated
to the defendant and his godfa ners, Abdallah the Hadgi
was admitted  to a more private interview, where he
heard with delighlt the strains of Blondel.  Having first
carefully put his green turban out of sight, and assumed
a Greek cap in its stead, lie requited the Norman minstrel's imusic with a drinking  song fiom the Persian, and
quaffed a hearty flagon of Cyprus wine, to show that his
practice matclied his principles.  On the next day, grave
and sober as the Nwater-drinker Mirglip, he bent his brow
to the ground before Saladin's footstool, and rendered to
the Soldan an account of his embassy.
On the day before that appointed for the  combat,
Conrade and his friends set off by daybreak to repail
to the place assigned, and Richard left the campl at
the same hour, and for the same purpose; but, as had
been agreed upon,- lie took his journey by a different
route, a precaution wh-lich liad- been judged necessary,
to prevent the possibility of a quarrel betwixt their armed
qttendants,
VOl.-  IT..




330         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
The good King himself was in no humcur for ql arrel.
ling with any one.   Nothing could have added to hi:
pleasurable anticipations of., desperate and bloody coin
bat in the lists, except his be ng in his own royal person
one of the combatants; and hie was half in charity again
even with Conrade of Montserrat.   Ligltly  armed,
richly dressed, and gay as a bridegroom on the eve of
his nuptials, Richard caracoled along by the side of
Queen Berengaria's litter, pointing out tol her the various
scenes through which they passed, and cheering with tale
anti song the bosom of the inhospitable wilderness. T'he
formner route of tlhe Quieen's pilgrinmage to Engaddi had
been on the other side of the chain.f mountains, so
that the ladies were strangers to the scenery of the desert; and though Berengaria knew  her husband's disposition too well not to endearour to seem interested in
what lhe was pleased either to say or to sing, she could
not help indlulging some female fears when she found
herself in tire howling wilderness with so small an escort, which seemed alm, st like a moving speck on the
bosom  of the plain, and knew, at the sanme time, they
were not so (listant firom the camp of Saladin but what
they might be in a moment surprised and swept off by
an overp)owering host of his fiery-footed cavalry, should
L-le Pagan be faithless enoughl to embrace an opportunity thius templting.   But when she hinted these suspicions to Richlard, lhe repelled  llhem  with displeasure
and disdain.  " It were worse tllhan inratitudle," lie
said, " to doubt the good fiaith of the generous Soldan."
Yet the same doubts and fears recurred more than
once, not to the timid mind of the Queen alone, but to
the firmer and more candid soul of Edithl Plantagenet,
who had no such confidence in thle falith of the Moslem
as to render lher perfectly at ease whlen so much in their
power; and her surprise had been far less than her terror, ii the desert around had suddenly resounded with
the shout of Alla hu! and a band of Arab cavalry had
pounced on them like vultures on their prey.  Nor were
tbhese sus)icions lessened, when, as evening approach



'1'II  TALI SMAN'                33 i
ed, tliey were aware of a single Arab horseman, distinguished by his turban and long lance, hovering on the
edge of a small eminence likle a hawk poised in the air.
and who instantly, on the appearance of tle royal retinue, darted off witlh the speed of the same bird, whlen it
shoots down the wind and disappears from the h1orizo]n.
" AWe must be near the station," said King Richard;
" and yonder cavalier is one of Saladin's outpostsmethinlks I hear the noise of the  Mloorish horns and
cyinnals.  Get you into order, mny hearts, and form yourselves aroundl the ladies soldierlike and firmlyv."
As lie spoke, each knight, squire, and archer, hastily
closed in upon his appointed ground, and they proceeded in the most compact order, whicll made their numbers appear still smaller; and to say the truth, though
there might be no fear, there was anxiety as well as
curiosity in the attention with which they listened to the
wild bursts of 1Moorish music, which came ever and anon
more distinctly from the quarter in which the Arab horseman had been seen to disappear.
De Vaux spoke in a whisper to the King-"c Were it
not well my liege, to send a page to the top of that
sand-bank?  Or would it stand with your pleasure that
I prick forward?  Methinks, by all yonder clash and
clang, if there ha no more than five hundred men beyond the sand-llills, half of the Soldan's retinue lnust
be drunimmers and cytnbal-tossers.-Shall I spur on?"
The Baron had checked his horse with the bit, and
was just about to strike hlini with the spurs, when the
King exclaimed —" Not for thle world.  Such a caution
would cxpress suSpicion, and coult(l do little to prevens
surprise, which, however, I apprehend not."
Tlley advanced accordingly in close and firm order
till they surmnounted tie line of low sand-hills, ana carme
in sight of the appointed station, wllen a splendid, Lit at
tlhe same time a startling spectacle, awaited them.
Thle Diamond of the l)esert, so lately a solitary fountain, distinguished only ainid the waste by solitary groups
of palm-trees, was now  the centre of an encampment




332          TALES OF THE  CRUSADERs.
the emlbroidered flags and aglded turnaments of whi.h
glittered far and wide, and reflected  a thousand  rich
tints against the setting sun.  Thle coverings of the large
pavilions were of the gayest colours, scarlet, bright
yellow, pale blue, and otller gaudy and glearning hues,
and the tops of their pillars, or tent-poles, were decorated with golden pomegranates, and small silken flgs. But,
besides these distinguished pavilions, there were, wlhat
Thomas de Vaux considered as a portenlous number oJ
the ordinary black tents of the Arabs, being sufficient,
as lie conceived, to accommodate, accordiing  to the
Eastern fashion, a  host of five thousand men.  A nilmber of Arabs and Curds, filly corresponding to the extent of the encampment, were hastily assembling, each
leading his horse in his hand, and their muster was accompanied by an astonishing clamour of their noisy instruments of martial mnusic, by which, in all ages, the
warfare of the Arabs has been animated.
They soon formed a deep and confused mass of dismounted cavalry in front ofttheir encampment, when, at
the sigral of a shrill cry, which  arose highl  over the
clangour of the music, each cavalier sprung to his saddle.
A  cloud of dust arising at the momlent of this manceuvre, hid from Richard and his attendants the camp, the
palm-trees, and thle distant ridge of mountains, as wvell
as tile troops whose sudden movement had raised the
cloud, and, ascending high over their heads, formed itself into the fantastic forms of writhed pillars, domes,
and minarets.  Another shrill yell was heard from the
bosom of this cloudy tabernacle.  It was the signal for
the cavalry to advance, which tlhey did at full gallop, disposing themselves as they came forwards, so as to come
in at once on the front, flanks, and rear of Richard's little body-guard, who were thus surrounded, and almost
choked by the dense clouds of dust enveloping them on
each side, through which were seen alternately  and
lost the grim  forms and  wild faces of the Saracens
orandishing and t.,ssing their lances in every possible di,
rection, with  the wildest cries and  halloos, and fre



''THE r TALSMAI.               3 33
quently only reining up their ihorses when wN ith n a spear's
iet Dth of the Christians, wliile those in thle rear dis
charged over the heads of both parties thick vollies ol
arrows.  One of these struck the litter in which  tile
Queen was seated, who loudly screamed, and the red
spot was on Richard's brow in an instant.
" Ha! Saint George," he exclaimed,'" we must take
some order with this infidel scum!"
But Edith, whose litter was near, thrust her head out,
and with lier hand holding one of the shafts, exclaimled, "Royal Richard, beware what you do! see, these
arrovws are headless!"
"Noble, sensible wench!" exclaimed Richard; " by
h-]eaven, thou shlamest us all by thy readiness of tlhough&
and eye.-Be not moved, my English hearts," he exclaimed to his followers-" their arrows have no headsand their spears, too, lack the steel points.  It is but a
wild WVelcome, after their savage fashion, thougl doubtless they would rejoice to see us daunted or disturbed.
_Move onward, slow and steady."
The little phalanx moved  forward accordingly, accompanied on all sides by the Arabs, with the shrillest
and most piercing cries, the bowmen, meanwhile, displaying their agility by sllooting as near the crests of the
Christians as wvas possible, without actually llitting them,
while the lancers charged each other with such  rude
blows of their blunt weapons, that more than one of them
lost his saddle, and well nigih his life, in this rough sport.
All this, thouigh designed to express welcome, had rather
a doubtful appearance in the eyes of the Europeans.
As they had advanced nearly half way towards the
camp, King Richard and his suite forming, as it were,
the nucleus round which this turnultuary body of horsemen howled, whooped, skirmished, and galloped, creating a scene of indescribable confulsion, another shrill cry
was heard, on which all these irregulars, who wvere on
the front and upon the flanks of the little body of Europeans, wheeled off. and forming themselves into a long
and deep column, followed witlh comparative older and




3341          TALES OiF TIHE CRUSADnElS
silence in thle rear of Ricliatid's tro;op.  The dust began
now to dissipate in their flront, when tlhere advanced to
meet tlemn, throLugh that cloudy veil, a nody of cavaldry
of' a different and more regular description, completely
arined lwith offensive and defensive weapons, and who
miglit well have served as a body-guard  to the proudest of eastern monarchs. This splendid troop consisted ol
five hlundred men, and eacll hlorse whichl it contained was
wortll an Earl's ransom.  The riders were Georgian and
Circassian slaves in the very prime of litle; their hlelmets
and hauberks were formed of steel rings, so bright that
they shone like silver; their vestures were of the gayest
colours, and some of cloth of gold or silver; the sashes
were twisted witil silk and gold, thleir rich turbans were
pllumed  and jewelled, and tlleir sabres and poniards
of Damascene steel, were adorned with gold and gems
on hilt and scabbard.
This splendid  array advanced to the sound of military tnuLsic, and wlien tlley met the Christian body, they
opened their files to the right and left, and let them
enter between their ranks.   Richard now assumed the
foremost place in his troop, aware that Saladin himself
was approaching.  Nor was it long when, in the centre
of Ills body-guard, surrounded by his domlestic officers,
and those hideous negroes who guard the Eastern haram,
and whose misshapen forms were rendered  yet more
frightfuil by the richness of their attire, came the Soldan, with the look and manners of one on whose brow
Nature had written, This is a King!  In his snow-white
turban, vest, and wide Eastern trowsers, wearing a sash
of scarlet silk, without any other ornament, Saladin might
have  seemed  the  i)lainest-dressedl  man in his own
guard.  But closer ilispection discerned in his turban
tlhat inestimnable gem, which was called by th1e poets, the
Sea of Ligtlt; the diamond on whlich his signet was engiraved, and whichll he wore in a ring, was probably worth
all tlle jewels of thle English  crown, ant   a sat}plirc,
whllch terminated the hilt of' Iis canilar, was not of niuch
mnflrior value.  It should be added, that to protect him




firom  tlhe dust, which, in the vicinity of the Dead Seas
resembles tlhe finest ashles, or, perhaps, out of Oriental
pr'ide, the Soldan wore a sort of' veil attaclhed  to his
tuirban, wv icll la-)rtly obscured the Nview of' lis noble feattiles.   He rode a imilk-wllite Arabliai, whllich bore himn
as if' conSCious andl p'roud of' his noble burden.
There \vas no need of fartlher introdluction.  The two
heroic monar':l s, lor such they both were, threw  thenimselves at once troiln horseback, and  the troops hlalting
and tihe music suddenly ceasing, they advanced to meet
eaclh  other in profound silence, and, after a courteous
inclination on eitlher side, they embraced as brethren and
equals.   The pomp and display upon botl sides attracted no f-lrther notice-no one saxv aught save Richard andl Saladin, and thley too belield nothing but each
other.  The looks with' whichl Richard  surveyed Saladin wvere, however, more intently curious than those
which tfhe Soldan fixed upon him; and the Soldan also
was the first to break silence.
"L The Melech Ric is welcome to Saladin as water to
tlhis desert! I trust lie hath no distrust of this numerous
array?  Excepting the  armed slaves of my household,
tlhose who surround Vou witlh eyes of wonder and of
welcome, are, even tile humblest of them, the privileged
nobles of Iny thousand tribes; for who that could claim
a title to be present, would remain at home when such a
Prince was to be seen as Richard, wvith the terrors of
whose namre, even on the sands of Yemen, the nurse
stills her child, and  the free Arab subdues his restive
steed."
" And these are all nobles of Araby?" said Richard,
looking  around  on wild forms with their persons covreld with lhaicks, their countenance swart withl the sulnbelarns, their teetil as white as ivory, tleir black  eves
glanrling with fiel'ce and preternatural lustre from  undler
the shade of rtheir turbans, and their dress being in general simple, even to meanness.
"They claini such rank." said Saladin; "but though.umerous, they are within the conditions of the treaty, and




336        TALES OF'TIE CRUSADERS,
sear no arins bu the sabre-even the iron of their ances
is left behind."
6I fear," mn ttered De Vaux in English, " they have!eft theni where they can be soon found. —A most flourishing House of Peers, I confess, and would find Westminister-Hall something too narrow for them."
"Hush, De Vaux," said Richard, " I command
thee. —Noble Saladin," he said, "suspicion and thou
cannot exist on the same ground.-Seest thou," pointing to the litters-" I too have brought some champions with me, though armed, perhaps, in breach of agreement, for bright eyes and fair features are weapons
which cannot be left behind."
The Soldan, turning to the litters, made an obeisance
as lowly as if looking towards Mecca, and kissed the
sand in token of respect.
" Nay," said Richard,-" they will not fear a closer
encounter, brother; wilt thou not ride towards their
litters, and the curtains will be presently withdrawn?"
"That may Allah prohibit!" said Saladin; "since
not an Arab looks on, who would not think it shamne to
the noble ladies to be seen with their faces uncovered."'"'lTou shalt see them then in private, my royal broth.
er," answered Richard.
" To what purpose?" answered Saladin, mournfully.
" Thy last letter was, to the hopes which I had entertained, like water to fire; and wherefore should I again
light a flame, which may indeed consume, but cannot
cheer me?-But will not my brother pass to the tent
which his servant hath prepared for himn?  My principal black slave hath taken order for the reception of
the Princesses-the officers of my household will attend your followers, and ourself will be the chamberlain of the royal Richard."
He led the way accordingly to a splendid pavilion
sphere was every thing that royal luxury cculd devise.
DUe Vaux, whz was in attendance, then removed t'e
2happe, (capca,) or long riding-cloak which Richard wore,
and he stood before Saladin in the close dress whieh,




THE TAI. SMAN.               3837
shlewed to advantage the strength and symmetry of his
person, while it bore a strong contrast to tile  flowing
robes which disguised the thin firame of the eastern monarch.  It was Richard's two-handed sword that chiefly
attracted the attention of the Saracen, a broad strailht
blade, the seemingly unwieldy length of which extende(l
well ni-gh from the shoulder to the heel of the wearer.' EHad I not," said Saladin, "seen this brand flaming
in the firont of battle, like that of Azrael, I had scarce believed thathuman arm could wield it.  Might I request to
see the MiSelech Ric strike one blow with it in peace, and
in puIe trial of strength?"
" Willingly, noble Saladin," answered Richard; and
looking around for something whereon to exercise his
strength, he saw a steel mace, held by one of the attendants, the handle being of the same metal, and about an
inch and a half in diameter-this he placed on a block
of wood.
The anxiety of De Vaux for his master's honour, led
him to whisper in English-" For the blessed Virgin's
sake, beware what you attempt, my liege!  Your full
strength is not as yet returned-give no triumph to thle
infidel."
"' Peace, fool!" said Richard, standing firm on his
ground, and casting a fierce glance -around-" thinkest
thou that I can fail in his presence?"
The glittering broadsword, wielded by both his hands,
rose aloft to the King's left shoulder, circled round his
head, descended with the sway of some terrific engine,
and the bar of iron rolled on the ground in two pieces,
as a woodsman would sever a sapling with a hedgingbill.
"By the head of the Prophet, a most wonderful
blowv!" said the Soldan, critically and accurately exammning the iron bar which had been cut asunder; and the
blade of the sword was so well tempered as to exhibit
not the least token of having suffered by the feat it had
performed. He then took the King's hand, and looking
~VOL. II.




3.08' t'LES  OF THE CRUSADER4.
on the size and muscular strength which it exl.ibited,
latughed as he placcd it beside his own, so lank and thin,
so inferior in brawn and sinew.
"Ay, look well,"  said  De Vaux, in  English, " it
will be long ere your long jackanape's  fingers do such
a feat withl your fine gilded reaping-look tlere."
"Silence, De Vaux," said Richard; "by Our Lady,
he understands or guesses thy meaning-fbe not so broad,
I pray tthee."
The Soldan, indeed, presently said-" Something I
would fain attempt —tlhough, wherefore Ihould the wealk
show their inferiority in l)resence of the strlng?  Yet,
each land hath its own exercises, and this may be new
to the Melech Ric." —So saying, he took friom the floor
a cushion of silk and down, and placed it upriglit on one
end. —" Can thy w-eapon, my brother, sever that cusIhion?" he said to King Richard.
" No, surely," replied the King; " no sword on earth
were it the Excalibar of King Arthur, can cut that which
opposes no steady resistance to the blow."
" Markl, tlen," said Saladin; and tucking up the sleeve
of his gown, showed his arm. tlhin indeed and spare, but
which constant exercise had hardened into a mass consistin, of nouht but bone, brawn, and sinew.  He unsheathed his scimitar, a curved and narrow blade, which glittered
not like the swords of the Franks, but was, on the contrary, of a dull blue colour, marked with ten millions
of meandering lines, which showed how anxiously the
metal had been welded by the armourer.  Wielding this
weapon, apparently so inefficient when compared to that
of Richard, the Soldan stood resting hi's weight upon his
left foot, which was slightly advanced; he balanced hilnself a little as if to steady his aini, then stepping at once
forward, drew  the scimitar across the cushion, applying
the edge so dexterously, and withl so little apparent efbort,
tlhat tile cushion seemetd rather to fall asunder than to be
divided by violence.
" It is a juggler's trick," said De Vaux, darting forward and snatching up the portion of the cushion which




THE TALISMAN.                    33q
hadl leen cut off, as if to asstire  himself of the reality
of the feat,-" there is gralmarye in thi s."
Tile Soldan seemed to coll)prelhe. nd him, for he un(lid t!he sort of veil whilich le had hithlleto worn, laid it
dlouble along the edge of his sabre, extended the weapoi
edgeways in tile air, and drawing   it suddenly through
tile veil, altlhoughl it hung on tile blade entirely loose,
severed that also into two parts, which floatedl to different sides of tlle tent, equally displaying the extreme
temnper and sharpness of the Nweapon, and the exquisito
dexterity of him who used it.
"Now, in good faitllh, my brother," said Richard,
" tllou art even matchless at the trickl of the sword, and
right perilous were it to meet thee!  Still, however, I
pi-t some faith in a downl right English blow, and what
we cannot do by sliglht, we eke out by strength.  Nevertlheless, in truth thou art as expert in inflicting wounds,
as my sage Hakim  in curin'g them.  I trust 1 shall see
the learned leech-I have much to thank him for, and
had brl ought some small present."
As lie spoke, Saladin exchanged his turban for a Tartar cap.  He Ilad no sooner done so, than De Vaux
opened at once his extended mouth andt his large round
eyes, and Riclhard gazed with scarce less astonishminent,
whlile the Soldan spoke in a grave and altered voice;
" The sick man, sayeth the poet, while he is yet infirm,
knoweth tile physician by his step;  but when lie is recover
ed, lie knoweth not even his face when lhe looks upon hin.
"A miracle!-a miracle!" exclaimed Richard.
"Of Mahound's working, doubtless," said Thomas de
Vallx
" Thlat I should lose my learned Hakim,"  said Richard, " merely by absence of  his cap and robe, and that
I sloulcl find him again in my royal brother Saladin!"
" Suchl is oft the fashion of the world," answered the
Soldan;   " the tattered robe makes not always the dertisch."'
" And it vwas tlhrough thy intercession," said Richlard,'that yonder Knight of the Leopard was saved  firom




340)        TALES OF TIlE CRUSADERS.
deathl —and by thy artifice that lie revisited my camp it,
disguise?"; ENven so," replied Saladin; "I was physician enough
to know, that unless tile wounds of his bleeding hronour
were  stanched, tile days of his life niust be few.  His
disguise was more easily penetrated than I had expected
from tile success of lmy own."
"An accident," saidl King Richard, (probably alluding
to the circumstance of his applying his lips to tile wound
of the supposed Nubian,) " let me first know that his
skin was artificially discoloured; and that hint once taken,
detection became easy, for his form and person are not
to be forgotten.  I confidently expect that lie will do
battle on the morrow."
" He is full in preparation, and high in hope," said
the Solcldan.  "I have furnished him  with weapons and
horse, thinking  nobly of him from what I have seen under
various disguises."
"Knows he now," said Richard, "to whom  ihe lies
under obligation?"
"He cloth," repilied the Saracen-" I was obliged to
confess my person when I unfolded my purpose."
"And confessed lie aught to you?" said the King of
England.
"Nothing explicit," replied the Soldan; " but from
much that passed between us, I conceive his love is too
highly placed to be happy in its issue."
" And thou knowest, that his daring and insolent
passion crossed thine own wishes?" said Richard.
"I might guess so much," said Saladin; " but his
passion hlad existed ere my wishes had been formed —
and, I must now add, is likelytosurvive them.  I cannot,
in honour, revenge me for my disappointment on limn
who had no hand in it.  Or, if this high-born dame
loved him better than myself, who can say that she did
not justice to a knight, of her own reliion, who is ful.
of nobleness?"'' Yet of too mean lineage to mix with the blood ol
Plantagwenet," said Riclard, haughtily.




TUE, TAIIMI4No                S3 I
"Sluch may be your maxims in Frangistan:" replied
the Soldan.  O- Our poets of' the eastern courtries say;hat a valiant carnel-driver is worthy to kiss the lip of a
fatir queen, when a cowardly prince is not worthy to salute
the hem of her garment.  But with your permission, noble
trrother, I must take leave of thee for the present, to receive the Duke of Austria and yonder Nazarene Knight,
onuch less worthy of' hospitality, but who must yet be
suitably entreated, not for their sakes, but for Inine own
honour-for what saith the sage Lokman? "' Say not.
that the food is lost unto thee which is given to the stranger-for if his body be strengthened and fattened therewithal, not less is thine own worship and good name
cherished and augmented.'"'
The Saracen Monarch departed from King 1ichard's
tent, and having indicated to him, rather with signs than
with speech, where the pavilion of the Queen and her attendants was pitched, he went to receive the Marquis of
Montserrat and his attendants, for whom, with less good
will, but with equal splendour, the magnificent Soldan
had provided accommodations. The most ample refireshments, both in the Oriental, and after the European
fashion, were spread before the royal and princely guests
of Saladin, each in their own separate pavilion; and so
attentive was the Soldan to the habits and taste of his
visiters, that Grecian slaves were stationed to present
them with the goblet which is the abomination of the sect
of Mahommed.  Ere Richard had finished his meal, the
ancient Omrah, who had brought the Soldan's letter to
the Christian camp, entered with a plan of the ceremonial to be observed on the succeeding day of combat.
Richard, who knew the taste of his old acquaintance, invlted him to pledge him in a flagon of wine of Schirutz;
but Abdallah gave him to understand, with a rueful aspect,
that self-denial, in the present circumstances, was a. natter in which his life was concerned; for that Saladin,
tolerant in many respects, both observed, andl enforced
by high penalties, the laws of the Prophet.
32 vo,. 11.




342          TALES OF T1,i  CRU SAD iRS.
"' Nay, tllien," said Richard, "if lie loves 11ot wMine,
that lihtitener of the hurnan lheart,  his conversion is not
to be hoped for, and the prediction of tile nad priest of
En gaddi goes like chaff down tile wind."
Thle King then addressed l)imself to settle the articles
of conmbat, which cost a considerable time, as it wvas
inecessary on some points to consult with the opposite
parties, as well as with tle Soldan.
They were at lengtli finally agreed upon, and adjusted by a protocol in French and in Arabian, whlicll was
subscribed by Saladin as umpire of the field, and  by
Richard and Leopold as guarantees for the twvo combatants.  As the Omnrah took his final leave of Kilng
Richard for the evening, De Vaux entered.
"The good Knight," lie said,' who is to do battle
to-morrow, requests to know, whether lie may not tonight pay duty to his royal godfather."
"' Hast thou seen him, De Vaux?" said the King, smiling; " and didst thou know  an ancient acquaintance?"
" By Our Lady of Lanercost," answered De Vauix,' there are so many surprises and changes in this land,
that my poor brain turns.  I scarce knew  Sir Kenneth
of' Scotland, till his good hound, that had been for a short
while under miy care, carne and fawned on me; and even
then I only knew the tyke by the depthl of his chest,.the
roundness of his foot, and his manner of baying; for the
poor gaze-hound was painted like any Venetian courtezan."
"Thou art better skilled in brutes tlhan mnen, De Vaux,"
said the King.
" I will not deny," said De Vaux, " I have found them
ofttimes thfe hlonester animals.  Also, your Grace is pleased to term  me sometimes a brute myself; besides that
I serve the Lion, whom all men acknowledge the king of'brutes."
" By Saint George, there thou broklest t!iy lance Uairly
on my brow," said the King.  " I have ever said thou hast
a sort of wit, De Vaux-marry, one must strike tllee witll
s sledge-harnrner ere it can be made to sparkle.  But




'  E1;'TALISMAN.                  343
to the present gear —is thle good knight well arnled and
F' ully, my liege, and  nobly," answered I)e Vaux;' I knrow tlle armour well-it is that whlich the Venletian
com1missary oflfred your highiness, just ere you became
ill, fbr five liunldred bezants."
" And le hath sold it to the infidel Soldan, I warrant
me, for a few ducats more, and p)resent paymnent.  These
VTenetians would sell thle Sepulchre itself!"' lThe armour will never be borne in a nobler cause,"
said DiE VaLux.
Thankslls     to the nobleness of the Saracen," said the
KinL,  n" ot to tle avarice of the Venetians."
I woulld to God your Grace would be more cautious,"
said thle anxious De Vaux. —' Here are we deserted by
all our allies, for points of' offence given to one or anotllher
we cannot hlope to prosper upon the land, and we have
only to quarrel witll the amplhibious republic, to lose the
means of retreat by sea!"'
"   w ill take care," said Richard, impatiently; " but
school me no more.  Trell me rather, for it is of interest, hath the k1night a confessor?"
He liath," answered De Vaux; " the hlermit of
Engaddi, who erst did  him  that office when preparing
for death, attends him on the present occasion; the fame
of the duel having  brought him hither."
"'is Nwell," said Riclhard; " and now for the knight's
request.  Say to him, Richard will receive him  when
the discharge of his devoir beside the Diamond of the
Desert, shall have atoned for his fault beside the Mount
of St. George; and as thou passest througll thle camp,
let the Queen know I will visit her pavilion-and tell
Blondel to mno't mie thlere."
De Vaux tdeparted, and in about an hour afterwxards,
F:Riehard:  wra)pping  his mantle around  llinm, and taking!is gittern in hlis hancd, w-alked in the (cirection of the
*Quee)n's paviliQn.  Several Arabls passed  lirin, but always with averted hleads, and looks fixedl upon the earth,
though lie could observe that all gazed earnestly after




344         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
nim nwhen he was passed.  This led him juastly to coniecture that his person was known to them; but that
either the Soldlan's commands, or their own oriental politeness, fq)rbade them to seem to notice a sovereign who
desired to remain incognito.
When the King reached the pavilion of his Queen, he
found it guarded by those unhappy officials whom eastern
jealousy places around the Zenana.  Blondel was walking before the door, and touched his rote from  time to
time, in a manner which made the Afiricans show their
ivory teeth, and bear burden with their strange gestures
and shrill unnatural voices.
"' What art thou after with this herd of black cattle,
Blondel?" said the King; " wherefore goest thou not
nto the tent?"
1" Because my trade can neither spare the head nor
the fingers," said Blondel; "and these lhonest blackamoors threatened to cut me joint from joint if I pressed
forward."
" Well, enter with me," said the King, " and I will
be thy safeguard."
The blaclks accordingly lowered pikes and swords to
King Richard, and bent their eyes on the ground, as if
unworthy to look upon him.  In the interior of the pavilion they found Thomas de Vaux in attendance on the
Queen.  While Berengaria welcomed Blondel, King
Richard spoke for some time secretly and apart with his
tair kinswoman.
A.t length, " Are we still foes, my fair Edith?" he
said in a whisper.
" No, my liege," said Edith, in a voice just so low as
not to interrupt the music-" none can bear enmity
ragainst King Richard, when he deigns to show himself,
as he really is, generous and noble, as well as valiant and
honourable."
So saying, she extended her band to him. The King
kissed it in token of reconciliation, and t-hen proceeded.
" You think, my sweet cousin, that my anger in this
ratter was feilled; but you are deceived   The pun



THLE TALISMAN.                    345
ishment I inflicted upon this knight was just, for lie had
betrayed-no matter for how tempting a bribe, fair cousin
— the trust coimmitted to him.  But I rejoice, perchance
as much as youL, that to-mllorrow gives him a chance to win
thle field, and throw back tilhe stain wllich for a time clunz
to him, upon the actual thief and traitor.  No!-fittture
times may blame Richard for impetuous folly; but they
shall say, that in rendering judgment, lie was just when
he shlould, and inerciftil when lie could."
" Land not thyself, cousin King," said Edith.  " They
may call thy justice cruelty-thy mercy caprice."'' And do not thou pride thyself," said the King, " as
if thy knight, who hatll not yet buckled on'his armour,
were unbelting it in triumph-Conrade of ilontserrat is
held a good lance.  What if the Scot slhould lose the
day?"' It is imrpossible!" said Edith, firmly-" TMy own
eyes saw yonder Conrade tremble and change colour,
like a base thief.  He is guilty-and the trial by combat
is an ap)eal to the justice of God.- I myself; in such a
cause, would encolunter him without fear."
" By the nmass, I think thou would'st, wench," said the
King, " aiind beat llim to bo6t; for there never breathed
a truer Plaintagenet than thou."
He paused, and added in a very serious tone, —" See
that thIou continue to remember what is due to thy birth."
" What means that advice, so seriously given at this
moment?" said Edith.  " Am I of such liglht nature as
to forget my name — my condition?"
"' will speak plainly, Edith," answered the King, " and
as to a fiiend, —lWhat will this knigllt be to you, should
he conme off victor from yonder lists?"
" To me?" said Edith, blusling deep with shame and
dislpleasure, —" What carn le be to me more than an
iionoured knight, wortlhy of such  race as Queen Berenfraria mnighlt conifer on him, Iad lie selected lier for his
laciv, instead of a more unworthy choice?  Thle meani:st knight mlay devote himself to the service of an em




34 6         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
press, but the glory of his choice," she said proudly.
" must be his reward.'5
" Yet lie hath served and suffered much for voii,"
said the King.
" I have paid hlis services with honlour and applause,
and his suflerings with tears," answered Edith.  " Had
lhe desired otlier rewardi, le would lhave clone wisely tc
have bestowed lis affections wdithlin hlis owVn deglree."
"You wvould not then wear the bloody nighlt-geai foI
his sake?" said Richard King.
No more," answered Edith, " than I would have
required him to expose his life by an action, in which
there was more madness than honour."
" Maidens talk ever thus," said the King; " but when
the favoured lover presses his suit, she says, with a sigh,
her stars hlad decreed otherwise."
" Yoiur Grace has now, for the second time, threatened me with the influence of my horoscope," Edith replied, with dignity.  " Trust me, my liege, whatever be
tile power of the stars, your poor kinswonran will never
wed either infidel, or obscure adventurer.-Permit me,
that I listen to the music of Blondel, for the tone ol
youtr royal admonitions is scarce so grateful to the ear."
rqlie conclusion of the evening offered nothing worthy
of notice.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
Ieard ye the din of battle blray,
Lance to lance, and horse to horse 7
GR aA.
ITr had been agreed, on account of the hreat of the
clhnate, thlat the judicial combat, which was the cautse ol
the present assemblage of various nations at thle Diamond
)f the Deser', should take place at one hotlr after sunlrise




TILE TA.LISM AN                   3147
Thel wide lists, wlhich had been constructed umder the inspeclion of the Knight of tile Leopard, inclosed a space
Al' hard sand, wvliichl was one hundred and twenty yards
long by forty in width.  They extended in lengthi fromn
nortlh to soutl, so as to give both parties thle eqnal ad
vantage of tile rising snin.  Saladin's royal seat was erect
ed onl the western side of the inclest:re, just in the centre,
where the combatants were expected to mIeet in mid encounter.  Opposed to tllis was a gallery with closed casements, so contrived, that tlle ladies, for whrose accommnodation it was erected, Ilight see thle fight witlolut beinlg themselves exposed to view.  At either, extremity of the lists
was a barrier, wliich could be opened or shiut at lpleasure.'lllones lhad been also erected, but tie Arch-Duke, Iperceiviig that hlis was lower than King Richard's, reftised
to occtpy it; and( Co-ur de Lion, who would have submitted to much. ere any formality slhould  have interfered
wvith the combat, readily agreed that the sponsors, as
they vwere called, should remain on horseback during the
fight.  At one extremity  of the lists were placed the
followers of Richard, and opposed to them were those
who accompanied the defender, Conrade.  Around the
throne destined for the Soldan, were ranged his splendid
Georgian Guardds, and the rest of the inclosure was occupied by Christian and Mahommedan spectators.
Long before daybreak, the lists were surrounded by
even a larger number of Saracens than Richard had seen
on the preceding evening.  When the first ray of the
sun's glorious orb arose above the desert, the sonorous
call, "' To prayer-to prayer!" was poured forth by the
Soldan himself, and answered by others, whllose rank and
zeal entitled them to act as inuezzins.  It was a striking
spectacle to see thelm  all sink to earth, for tile purpose
of repeating their devotions, with their faces trained to
Mlecca.  But when they arose friom the groin'l, the suti's
rays, now strengthiening fast, seemed to confirnl the Iord
of Gilsland's conjecture of tihe niglit before.  Tliey were
flashed back fronl many a spear-lhead, for the pointless
lan-es of the precedinll  day were certainly no longei




348          TAIES OF THlE CRUSADERS.
such.  1)e Vaux pointed it out to his master, who an.
swered with impatience, that he had perfect confidence
in the good faith of tile Soldan; but if De Vaux was afraid
of' 1his bulkly body, he might retile.
Soon after this tile noise of timbrels was heard, at thle
sound of w-hichl the vlhole Saracen cavaliers threw themnselves from  their horses, and prostrated themselves, as
if for a second morning prayer.   This was to give an
opportunity to the Queen, with Editi; and her attendants, to pass from the pavilion to the gallery intended for
thenm.  Fifty guardc of Saladin's seraglio escorted them,
with naked sabres, whose orders were, to cut to pieces
whomisoever, were he prince or peasant, should venture
to gaze on the ladies as they passed, or even presume
to raise his head until the cessation of the music should
make all men aware that they were lodged in their galleiry, not to be gazed on by the curious eye.
Thlis superstitious observance of oriental reverence t(
the fail' sex, called forth fi-om  Queen Berengarlia some
criticisms very unfavourable to Saladin and his country.
But their den, as the royal fair called it, being securely
closed and guarded by their sable attendants, she was
under the necessity of contenting herself with  seeing,
and laying aside for the present the stl'l more exquisite
pleasure of being seen.
Meantime the sponsors of both Champions went, as
was their duty, to see that they were duly armed, and
prepared for combat.  The Arch-Duke of Austria was
in no hurry to perform this part of the ceremony, having
had rather an unusually severe debauch upon wine of
Schiraz the preceding evening.  But the Grand Master
of the Temple, more deeply concerned in the event of
the combat, was early before the tent of Conrade of
Montserrat.  To his great surprise, the attendants refused him admittance.
"' Do you not know me, ye knaves?" said the Grand
iMaster, in g eat anger.




THE TALISMAN.o                349'We do, most valiant and reverend," answered Con
rade's squire; "but even you may not at present enter
-the Marquis is about to confess himself."
" Confess himself!" exclaimed the Temnplar, in a tone
Ahlere alarm mingled with surprise and scorn, —" and to
ivivom, I pray thee?"
" My master bid me be secret," said the squire; on
vwhich the Grand Master pushed past him, and entered
the tent almost by force.
The Marquis of Montserrat was kneeling at the feet
of the hermit of Engaddi, and in the act of beginning
hiis confession.
" What means this, Marquis?" said the Grand Mlaster; " up, for shamne-or, if you must needs confess, am
not I here?"
" I have confessed to you too oft already," replied
Conrade, with a pale cheek and a faltering voice.
" For God's sake, Grand Master, begone, and let me
unfold my conscience to this holy man."
" In what is he holier than I am?" said the Grand
Master. —" Hermit, prophet, madman —say, if thou
darest, in what thou excellest me?'
" Bold and bad man," replied the hermit, " know
that I am like the latticed window, and the divine light
passes through to avail others, though, alas! it helpeth not me.  Thou art like the iron stanchions, which
neither receive light themselves, nor communicate it to
any one."'
" Prate not to me, but depart from this tent," said the
Grand Master; " the Marquis shall not confess this
morning, unless it be to me, for I part not from his side."
" Is this your pleasure," said the Hermit to Conrade;
" for think not I will obey that proud man, if yc:u continue to desire my assistance."
"' Alas," said Conrade, irresolutely, " what would you
have me say?-Farewell for a while-we will speak
anon:.'"
VOL. II




31'50       TILES  OF THE  CRUSADERS:
~' 01, procrastination!" exclaimed tile hermit. "S tlho,
art a souli-murderer!  Unhappy mIian, farewell —not fo
a while, but until wve shall botl meet —no matter whlere.
And  for thee," he added, turning to the Grand TMaster,
" TRl.EMBLE!"
"'Tremble!" replied the Templar, contemptuously' I cannot if' I would."
The hermit heard not his answer, having left the tent.
" Come! to this gear hastily," said the Grand Master.
" since thou wilt needs go through the foolery.-FHark
thee-I think I know  most of thy frailties by heart, so
we may omit the detail, which may be somewhilat a long
one, and begin with the absolution. What signifies counting the spots of dirt that we are about to wash from cur
hiands?"
Knowing  whllat thou art thyself," said Conrade, " it
is blasphemous to speak of pardoning another."
"That is not according to the canon, Lord Marqulis,"'
said the Templar,-" thou art more scrutpulous than orthodox.  The absolution of the wicked priest is as effetetual as if hlie were himself a saint,-otherwise, God
help the poor penitent!  What wounded Inan inquires
wvllether the surgeon thlat tents hlis gashes llave clean
hlands or no? —-Come, sthall we to this toy?"'; No," said Conrade, "I will rather die unconfessed
than mock the sacrament."
" Comne, noble Marquis," said the Templar, " rouse
up your courage, and speak not thus.  In an hour's time
thou shalt stand victorious in the lists, or confess thee
in thy hlelmet, like a valiant knight."
"'Alas, Grand Master," answered Conrade,'" all augu'rs ill for this affair.  The  strange discovery by the
instinct of a dog —the  revival of this Scottishl kI.ight,
who conies into tlhe lists like a spectre-all betokens
evil."
" Pshaw," said tlle Templar, " I have seen thee bend
thy lance boldly against him  in sport, and with equal
chance of success-think thou art but in a tournament,
anld who bena s him better in the tilt-yard than thou?-.




rI-E TALISM AN.                  351
i;.ome, squires and armlourers, your master must be ac.:oeutred f(ir- the field."
Tile attendants entered  accordingly, and began to
arll the Marquis.
" What Inorning is without?" said Conrade.
Tile sun rises dimly," answered a squire.; T1hou, seest, Grand Master," said Conrade, " nought
smiles on us."
"' Thou wvilt fight the more coolly, my son," answered the Templar; "thank Heaven, that bath tempered
thle sun of Palestine to slit tlline occasion."
1Thus jested the Grand Master; but his jests had lost
their influence on the harassed mind of the Mlarquis, and,
notwithlstanding hlis attempts to seem gay, his gloom comrnlullicated itself to the T'einplar.
" rhis craven," he thought, " will lose the day in pure
faintness and cowardice of lheart, which he calls tender
conscience.  1, whom  visions and  auguries shake not
-who am  firm  in my purpose as the living rock —I
should  have fought tile combat rnyself. —Would to God
tile Scot may strike him dead on the spot-it were next
best to ]his winning the victory.  But come what will, he
must lhave no  othier confessor than myself-our sins
are too much in common, and lie mnight confe s my share
with his own."
While these thoughts passed through his mnind, he continued to assist thle Marquis in arming, but it was in silence.
The hour at length arrived, the trumpets sounded, the
knigllts rode into the lists armed at all points, and mounted like men  who were to do battle for a kingdom's
honour.  They wore their vizors up, and, riding around
the lists three times, sliowed themselves to the spectators.   Both were goodly persons, and both hlad noble
colntenances.   But tlhere  was an  air of manly confidence on the brow of the Scot-a radiancy of lope
which arounted even to clheerfiulness, while, although
pride and effort llad recalled much of Conrade's natural courage, there lowered still on his brow a cloud ot




352         TALES OF THE CtRUSADIERS.
Ominlous despondence.  Even his steed seemed to tread
less lightly and blithely to the trumpet-sound than the
noble Arab which was bestrode by Sir Kenneth; anti
the spruch-sprecher shook his head while he observed, that
while the challenger rode around the lists in the course
of the sun, that is from right to left, the defender made
the same circuit widdersins, that is from  left to right,
which is in most countries held ominous.
A temporary altar was erected just beneath tile gallery occupied by the Queen, and beside it stoo, the hermit in the dress of his order, as a Carmelite firiar. Othler
churchmen were also present.  To this altar the challenger and defender were successivelv bl'ought forward,
conducted by their respective sponsors.  Dismounting
before it, each knight avouched the justice of his cause
by a solemn oath on the Evangelists, and prayed that
his success might be according to the truth or falsehood of
what he then swore. They also made oath, that they came
to do battle in knightly guise, and with the usual weapons,
disclaimring the use of spells, charms, or magical devices,
to incline victory to their side. The challenger pronounced his vow, with a firm and manly voice, and a bold and
cheerful countenance. When the ceremony was finished, the Scottish Knight looked at the gallery, and bent
his head to the earth, as if in honour of those invisible
beauties which were inclosed within; then, loaded with
armour as he was, sprung to the saddle without the use
of the stirrup, and made his courser carry him in a succession of caracoles to his station at the Eastern extremity of the lists.  Conrade also presented himself
before the altar with boldness enough; but his voice,
as he took the oath, sounded hollow, as if drowned in
his helmet. The lips, with which he appealed to Heaven to adjudge victory to the just quarrel, grew  white,
as they uttered the impious mockery.  As he turned
to remount his horse, the Grand Master approached
him closer, as if to rectify something about the sitting of
hiis gorget, and whispered,-" Coward and fool!-recall thy senses, and do me this battle bravely, else, by




THE TALISM AN.                  3 53
Heavenl, should'st thou escape hJm, thou escapest not
me!'
The savage tone in which this was whispered  lerhaps completed the confusion of the Marquis's nerves,
for he stumbled as he made to hlolse; and thouglh lhe
recovered his feet, sprung to the saddle with his usual
agility, and displayed his address in horsemanshlip as he
assumed his position opposite to the challenger's, yet the
accident did not escape those who were on the watch for
omens, which might predict the fate of the day.
The priests, after a solemnn  prayer, that God would
show the rightful quarrel, departed from the lists.  The
trumpets of the challenger then rung a flourish, and a
herald-at-arms proclaimed at the eastern end of the lists,
" EHere stands a good knight, Sir Kennetl of Scotland, champion for the royal King Richard of England,
who accuseth Conrade, Marquis of Montserrat, of foul
treason and dishonour done to the said King."
When the words Kenneth of Scotland announced the
name and  character of the cllampion, hitherto scarce
generally known, a loud and cheerful acclaim burst firom
the followers of King Richard, and hardly, notwitllstanding repeated commands of silence, suffered the reply of
the defendant to be heard.  He, of course, avouclled
his innocence, and offered his body for battle.   Th'le
esquires of the colmbatants now approaclled, and delivered to each his shlield and lance, assisting to lhang
tile former around his neck, thlat his two hands mlight remnain firee,-one Ior the management of the bridle, the
other to direct the lance.
The shield of the Scot displayed his old bearing, tile
leopard, but with the addition of a collar and broken
chain, in allusion to his late captivity.  Thle sllield ol
the Marquis bore, in reference to llis title, a serrated and
rocky mountain.  Each shlook hlis lance aloft, as if to
ascertain the weight and toughness of the  unwieldy
%weapon, and tllen laid it in the rest.  The sponsors,
heralds and squires, now retired to tile harriers, and the
VOL. II.




8a4           TALES OF TIHE  CRUSADERIS.
combatants sat opposite to each other, face to lace, with
courched lance and closed vizor, thie hiuman formn so comn
pletely inclosed, that they looked  mnore like statues oi
molten-iron, than beings of fleshl and blood.  The silence
of sluspense was now  general-men breathed  thiclker,
(.n(l thleir very souls seemed seated in tlheir eyes, while
not a sound was to be lheard save tile snorting and pawing of the good steeds, who, sensible of what was about
to lhappen, were impatient to daslh into career.  They
stood thus for perhaps three minutes, when, at a signai
given by thle Soldan, an hundred instruments rent the
air with their brazen clamours, and each cliampion striking his horse witli thle spurs, and slacking thle rein, the
horses started into 1full gallop, and thle knights met in mid
space with a shliock like a thunderbolt.  Thle victory was
not in doubt-no, not one moment.  Conrade, indeed,
shlowed himself' a l)ractisecl  warrior; for lie struck Iiis antagonist kniglhtly in thle midst of'his shlield, bearing hiis lance
so straiglit and true, tliat it shivered into splinters friom thie
steel spear-llead up to tthe very gauntlet. The horse of Sit
Kenneth recoiled twvo ortliree vardls and fell on his haunches, but thle rider easily raised him withli hand and rein.
BLut for Conrade, there wvas no recovery.  Sir Kennetlh's
lanrce lhad pierced through the shield, througlh a plated corslet of Milan steel, through a secret, or coat of linked mail,
worn beneath the corslet, Ihad wounded him rdeep in the
bosom, and borne himiiin firom his saddle, leaving the truncheon of the lance fixed in his wound.  Tile sponsors,
heralds, and Saladin himself, descending fromn his throne,
crowded around the wounded man; while Sir Kenneth,
whvlio had drawn his sword ere vet he discovered  his
antagonist was totally helpless, now commanded  him to
a'vow his guilt.  Tlie heln-iet was hastily unclosed, and
the wvounded man, gazing wildly on tile skies, replied," What would you more!-God hath decided just!y —I
am guilty-but there are worse traitors in the cam)p tban
I.-In pity to my soul, let me lhave a confessat!'r
He revived as he uttered these words.




'1'TiE TAL.ISMANe 3.55
Ti he talismanl-the powverful remedy, royal biother,"
said King Richarcl to Saladin.
"Tile traitorl," answerel( tle Soldan, " is more fit to
be drlagge( firom tlhe lists to tile gallows by the hleels,
tllan to profit by its virtules;-and soime suecl fate is in
Ills look," lhe added, after  gazing fixedly upon tile
woundled man;   " for, tllougll lhis wound may be cured,
yet Azlrael's seal is on tile wretch's brow."
"Nevertheless," said  licllard, " I pray you do for
him what you may, tlhat lie inay at least have time for
confession-Slay not soul and body!  To him one lhalf
hour of tille may be vorth more, by ten thousand fold,
than the life of tile oldest patriarch."
" TMy royal brother's wish slhall be obeyed,"  said
Saladin.  "' Slaves, bear this wounded man to our tent "
"Do not so," said the Templar, who hlad hitlherto
stood gloomily looking on in silence.-" The royal Duke
of Austria and myself will not permit tllis unhappy Cllhristian Prince to be delivered over to thle Saracens, that
they mnay try tlheir slells ulon0 lhim.  XWe are his sponsors, and demand that lie be assigned to our care."
" That is, you refuse the certain means offered to
recover him?" said Richard.
"Not so," said the Grand Master, recollecting himself.
-"If the Soldan useth lawful medicines, lie may attend
the patient in my tent."
" Do so, I pray thee, good brotlher," said Richard to
Saladin,  " thoughl the permission be ungraciously yielded.-But now to a more glorious work.-Sound, trllunpets-sllout, Englland —in  hIonour of England's champion!"
Drum, clarion, trumpet, and cymbal, rung forth at
once, and the deep and regular shout, whllich for ages hlas
been the English acclamation, sounded amnidst the shrill
and irregular yells of tile Arabs, like tile diapason of the
organ amid the howling of a storml.  There was silence
at letl-h.
" Brave Knigllt of tile Leopard," resumed Coeurl de
L[ion, " theou hast shown that the Ethiopian may change




356        1q ALES OF THE'CRUSADERS.
his skin, atnd thle leopard his spots, though clerks quote
Scripture for the impossibility.  Yet I have more to say
to you lwhen 1 have conducted you to the presence of
the ladies, the best judges, and best rewarders, of deeds
of chivalry."
The Knight of the Leopard bowed assent.
"' Ald thou, princely Saladin, wilt also attend them.  I
promise thee our Queen will not think herself welcome,
if she. lacks the opportunity to thank her royal host for
her rmost princely reception.'
Saliadin bent his head gracefully, but declined the invitation.
"'1  inust attend the wounded man," le said.  "The
leechl leaves not his patient more than the champion the
lists, even if lie be summoned to a bower like those of
IParadise.  And farther, royal Richard, know  that the
blood of tlle East flows not so temperately in the presence of beauty as that of your land.  What saith the
book itself? Her eye is as the edge of the sword of the
Prophet, who shall look upon it?   He that would not
be burnt avoideth to tread on hot embers-wise men
spread not tile flax before a bickering torch —He, saith
the sage, who hath forfeited a treasure, doth not wisely
to turn back his bead toi gaze at it."
Richard, it may be believed, respected the motives of
delicacy which flowed from  nmanners so different from
his own, and( urged his request no farther.
" At noon," said the Soldan as he departed, " I trust
ye will all accept a collation under the black camel-skin
tent of a chief of Curdistan."
The same invitation was circulated among the Christians, comprehendling all those of sufficient importance to
be admitted to sit at a feast made for princes.
" Hark!" said Richard, " the timbrels announce that
our Queen and her attendants are leaving their galleryand see, the turbans sink on the ground, as if struck down
by a destroying angel.  All lie prostrate, as if the glance
of an Arab's eye could sully the lustre of a lady's cheek!
(;omne, we;witl to tbhe pavilion, an-.~d lead otr eouqueroT




THE TALISMAN.                351
thither in triumph.-How I pity that noble Soldan, whu
knows but of love as it is known to those of inferior
nature!"
Blondel tuned his harp to its boldest measure, to welcome the introduction of the victor into the pavilion of
Queen Berengaria. He entered, supported on either
side by his sponsors, Richard and Thomas Longsword,
and knelt gracefully down before the Queen, though
more than half the homage was silently rendered to
Edith, who sat on her right hand.
"Unarm him, my mistresses," said the King, whose
delight was in the execution of such chivalrous usages" Let Beauty honour Chivalry! Undo his spurs, Berengaria; Queen though thou be, thou owest him what marks
of favour thou canst give. —Unlace his helmet, Edithby this hand thou shalt, wert thou the proudest Plantagenet of the line, and he the poorest knight on earth!"
Both ladies obeyed the royal commands, Berengaria
with bIustling assiduity, as anxious to gratify her husband's
humour, and Edith blushing and growing pale alternately, as slowly and awkwardly she undid, with Longsword's
assistance, the fastenings, which secured the helmet to
tlhe gorget.' And what expect you from beneath this iron shell?"
said Richard, as the removal of the casque gave to view
the noble countenance of Sir Kenneth, his face glowing
with recent exertion, and not less so with present emotion.
" What think ye of him, gallants and beauties?" said
Richard.  "' Doth he resemble an Ethiopian slave, or
doth he present the face of an obscure and nameless adv'enturer? No, by my good sword!-Here terminate
his various disguises.  He hath knelt down before you,
unknown save by his worth —he arises, equally distinguished by birth and by fortune.  The adventurous
knight, Kenneth, arises David Earl of Huntingdon,
Prince Royal of Scotland!"
There was a general exclamation of surprise, and
Edith dropped from her hand the helmet, which she had
tust received.




358'TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
"Yes, my masters," said the King, " it is evei. so,
Ye know how Scotland deceived us when she proposed to
send thlis valiant Earl, withl a bold comnpany of her best
and noblest, to aid our arms in this conquest of' Pales.
tine, but failed to coimply with her engragements.  Tlhis
noble youth, under whom the Scottish crusaders were tc
have been arrayed, thought foull scorn that his arm should
be witlhheld fiom the holy warfare, and joined us at Sicily
with a small train of devoted and faitihful attendants.
wlhich was augmented by many of his countryymen, to
whom the rank oft their leader was unknown.  The confidants of the Royal Prince had all, save one old follower, fallen by death, when his secret, but too well kept,
had nearly occasioned my cutting off, in a Scottish adventurer, one of the noblest hopes of Europe.-Wlly did
you not mention your rank, noble Huntingdon, when endangered by my hasty and passionate sentence?-Was
it that you thought Richard capable of abusing thle advantage I possessed over the heir of a Kin-g whomn 
have so often found hostile?"
"' I did you not that inijustice, royal Richard," answered the Earl of Hulltingdon; " but my pride brooked
not that I should avow  myself Prince of Scotland in
order to save my life, endangered for default of loyalty.
And, moreover, I had made my vow to preserve my rank
unknown till the crusade sllould be accomplished; nor
did I mention it, save in articulo imortis, and tinder thc
seal of confession, to yonder reverend hermit."
" It was the knowledge of that secret, then, which
made the good man so urgent with me to recall my severe sentence?" said Richard.  "Well did lie say that,
had this good knight fallen by my mandate, 1 should have
wished the deed undone though it had cost me a limbA limb!-I should have wished it undone had it cost me
my life-since the world would have said that RkMhard
had abused the condition in whichl the heir of Scotland
had plared himself, b:' his confidence in his generosity.'




THE TAL.ISMAN.                  359' Yet, may we know  of your Grace by what strange
and happy chance this riddle was at length read?" said
the Queen Berengaria.
" Letters were bcughlt to us from England," said the
King, " in which we learnt, among other unpleasant neDws,
that the King of Scotland had seized upon three of our
nobles, when on a pilgrimage to Saint Ninian, and alleged as a cause, that his hleir, being supposed to be fighting in thle ranks of the Teutonic Knigllts, against the
heathen of Borussia, was, in fact, in ouI camp, and in
our power; and, therefore, William proposed to hold
these nobles as lhostages for his safety.  Tlhis gave mce
the first ligilt on the real rank of the Knight of thle Leopard, and my suspicions were confirmed by De Vaux,
who, oil his return from Askalon, brouglit back with himn
the Earl of Huntingdon's sole attendant, a thick-skullled
slave, who had gone thirty miles to unfold to De Vaux
a secret hle should have told to me."
" Old Strauchan must be excused," said the Lord of
Gilsland.  " He knew firom experience that mny heart
is somewhat softer than if 1 wrote myself Plantagenet."
" Thy heart soft? thou commodity of old iron! —and
Cumberland flint, that thou art!" exclaimed the King.
"'lt is we Plantagenets who boast soft and feeling
hearts, Edith," turning to his cousin, with an expression
which called the blood into her cheek-" Give me thy
hand, my fair cousin, and, Prince of Scotland, thine."
"Forbear, my lord," said Edith, hanging back, and
endeavouring to hide her confusion, under an attempt to
rally her royal kinsman's credulity.  " Remember you
not that my band was to be the signal of converting to
the Christian faith the Saracen and Arab, Saladin and
all his turbaned host?"
" Ay, but the wind of prophecy hath chopped about,
and sits now in another corner," replied Richard.
"Mock not, lest your bonds be made strong," said the
[Iermit, stepping forward.  " The heavenly host write
nothint but truth in their brilliant records-it is man's,ryes whichl are toc vw- ak to read their characters aright




360(        TALES OF rI'HE CRUSADERS.
Know, that when Saladin and Kenneth of Scotlanid slep'
in my grotto, I read in the stars, that there rested under
my roof a prince, the natural foe of Richa d, with whom
the fate of Edith Plantagenet was to be united.  Could
I doubt that this must be the Soldan, whose rank was well
known to tne, as he often visited my cell to converse on
the revolutions of tile heavenly bodies?-A —gain, tile lights
of the firnmamlent proclaimed that this Prince, the husband
of Edith Plantagenet, should be a Christian; and I,weak and wild interpreter! -argued thence the conversion of the noble Saladin, whose good qualities seemed
often to incline him towards the better faith. The sense of
my weakness hath humbled me to the dust, but in the dust
I have found comfort! I have not read aright the fate of
others-who can assure me but that I may have miscalculated mine own?  God will not have us break into his
council-house, or spy out his hidden mysteries. WVe must
wait his time with watching and prayer with fear and
with hope.  I came hither the stern seer-the proud
prophet-skilled, as I thought, to instruct princes, and
gifted even with supernatural powers, but burdened with
a weight which I deemed no shoulders but mine could
have borne.  But my bands have been broken! I go
hence humble in mine ignorance, penitent-and not
hopeless."
Withl these words he withdrew from the assembly; and
it is recorded, that, fromn that period, his firenzy fits
seldom occurred, and his penances were of a milder
character, and accompanied with better hopes of the future.  So much is there of self-opinion, even in insanity,
that the conviction of his having entertained and expressed an unfounded prediction with so much vehemence,
seemed to operate like loss of blood on the human frame,
Lo modify and lower the fever of the brain.
It is needless to follow into farther particulars the conferences at the royal tent, or to inquire whether David,
Earl of Huntingdon, was as mute in the presence of Edith
Plantagenct, as when he was bound to act under the characfte. of an oblcure and namneless adventurer.  It may he




THE TALISMAN.                   3t,.
well believed that lie there expressed, with suitab e earnestness, tile passion to which he had so often before
found it difficult to give words.
The hour of noon now approached, and Saladin waited to receive the Princes c.f Christendom  in a tent,
which, but for its large size, differed little fiom tllat of thle
ordinary shelter of the common Curdnman, or Arab; yet,
beneath its ample and sable covering, iwas prepared a
banquet after the most gorgeous fashion of the East. extended upon carpets of' the richest stuffs, with cushions
laid for tile guests.  But we cannot stop to describe the
cloth  of gold and  silver-the superb  embroidery  in
Arabesque-the shawls of Cashmere-and the muslins
of India, which were here unfolded in all their splendour;
far less to tell the different sweetmeats, ragouts edged
with rice coloured in various manners, with all the other
niceties of Eastern cookery.  Lambs roasted whole, anD.
gamne and poultry dressed in pilaus, were piled in vessels
of gold, and silver, and porcelain, and intermixed with
large mazers of sherbet, cooled in snow  and ice firont
the caverns of Mount Lebanon.  A magnificent pile of
cushions at the head of the banquet, seemed prepared
for the mlaster of the feast, and such dignitaries as he
might call to share that place of distinction, while, from
the roof of the tent in all quarters, but over this seat
of eminence in particular, waved many a banner and
pennon, the trophies of battles won, and kingdoms overthrown.  But amongst and above them all, a long lance
displayed a shroud, the banner of Death, with this impressive  inscription-" SALADIN  KING  OF  KINGSSALADIN VICTOR OF VICTORS-SALADIN MUST DIE.';
Amid these preparations, the slaves who had arranged
the refireshments  stood with drooped heads and foldec
arms, mute and motionless as monumental statuary, or
as automata, which waited the touch of the artist to put
them  in motion.
Expecting the approach of his princely guests, the
Soldan, imbued as most were, with the sl perstitions of
VO,. 11.




:36X2         TALES OF THE CRUSADERb.
his time, paused over a horoscope  and  correspondlino
scrol, whllicll llad been sent to iliin by ihe lhermit of
Enladd(i wlen he del)arted fTioml tle carnp.'Strlange and inysterious science,"  lie muttered tc
hiimself, " wllichl, in-etenidiogr to draw  tile curltain  of
fiuttulity, nisleads tllose xvlhomn it seems to guide, and
darkelis tlle scemme whlicll it l)retellds to illuminate! Who
would not ]have said tIhat I was tliat eneiny mnost dangerotls to Richlard, whllose enumity was to be ended by marriage   ithll liis kinswomlll?  Yet it now  al)pears that an
union, betwixt thlis gallant Earl and the lady will bring
about fliendslhilp betwixt Richa-rd and Scotland, an enemy
more  langerotus thlla  I, as a wild-cat in a chamber is
more to be dread(ed than a lien in a distant desert.-But
then," lie continued to mutter to hii:nself,'" the conmbination intimates, thlat this lhtisband was to be a Clihristian.Chlistian?" lie repeated, after a pause-"'  Tlhat gave the
insane filnatic stargazer hol)es thlit I might renounce my
ftitll! but mne, thle lhitiill follower of our Prophlet-me it
should lhave undeceivedc.-Lie there, mysterious scroll,"
lie  added, tlhllisting  it under tile  pile of cushions;
"strange are thy bodements and fatal, since, even when
true in tllemselves, they work upon those who attempt to
dccipher t!heir meanini g all the effects of falsehood.low now! whallt means this intrusion?"
He spoke to the dwarf Nectabalnus, who rushed into
the tent fearfiully agitated, Nwith each strange and disproportioned  feature wrenched  by horror into  still more
extravagant ugliness,-llis niout!i open, his eyes staring,
his hands,'withl their shrivelled and deformed fingers,
wildly expandled.
Wlhat now?" said the Soldan, stemnly.
"Accipe hoc!" groaned out the dwarf.'" Ha! say'st thou?" answered Saladin.
"Accipe hoc!" replied the parnic-struck creature, unconscious, perhaps, that'he repeated the same words as
b elolre.
"  Hence, I am in no vein for foolery," said the E,.mperor




THE TALISM  N.                   363
N'or N am I ftirthier fool," said the dwarl. "; tlhan to
mlake lly ibily help out my wits to earn mny Dread, poor
heilp;ess iwretclh! —Hear, hear me, great Soldan!"
"Nay, if thou last actual wrong to complain of," said
Saladin, " fool or wise, thou art entitled to the ear of a
King.-Retire hither with me;" and lie led him into the
inner tent.
Whlatever their conference related o, it was sooi broken off by the fanfare of the trumpets, announcing the
arrival of thle various Christian princes, whonm- Saladin
wvelcomled to his tent with a royal courtesy well becoming tlheir rank and his own; but chiefly, he saluted the
youllg Earl of Huntingdon, anti generously congratulated
him  u)opn prospects, wlhicli seemed to have interfered
with and overclouded those whicll he had himself entertained.'" But think not," said the Soldan, " thou noble youth,
that the Prince of Scotland is more welcome to Saladin,
than was Kenneth to the solitary Ilderim  vlwhen they met
in the desert, or thle distressed Ethiop to the Hakim
Adonbec.  A brave aiid generous disposition likle thine
hath a value independent of condition and birthI, as the
cool dratughlt, 17which I here profleer thee, is as delicious
frorn an eartlen vessel as from a goblet of gold."
The Earl of Huntingdon made a suitable replly, gratefully acknowledging the various imrportant services lihe
had received from the generous Soldan; but when he
had pledged Saladin in the bowl of sherbet, which the
Soldan had proffered to him, lie could not hlelp remarking
with a smile, " The brave cavalier, Ilderim, knew not o:
the formation of ice, but the munificent Soldan cools his
sherbet with snow."
"' Would'st thou have an Arab or a Curdman as wise
as a Hakim?" said the Soldan.  " He who does on a
disguise mlist make the sentiments of his heart and the
learning of his head accord with the dress wh}icil he assuines.  I desired to see how a brave and sinle-hearted
cavalier of Frangistan would conduct himself in debate
with such a chief as I then seemed; and 1 questioned




364         TALES o01 TUE CLUSADERS.
the truth of a well-known fact, to know  by what &rgu*
nlents thou wouldst support thy assertion."
Whilile they were speaking, tile Arch-Duke of Austria,
who stood a little apart, wa-s struck witlh the mention of
iced sherbet, and took with pleasure and some bluntness
the deep goblet, as the Earl of Huntingdon was about
to replace it.
" Most delicious!" he exclaimed, after a deep drlught,
which the heat of the weather, and the feverishness following the debauch of the preceding day, had rendered
doubly acceptable.  He sighled as he handed the cup
to the Grand Master of the Templars.  Saladin made a
sign to the dwarf, who advanced and pronounced, with
a harsh voice, the words, l2ccipe hoc! The Templar
started, like a steed who sees a lion under a bush beside
the pathway; yet instantly recovered, and to hide, perhlaps, his confusion, raised the goblet to his lips-but
those lips never touched that goblet's rin.  The sabre
of Saladin left its shleath as lightning leaves the cloud.
It was waved in the air,-and the head of the Grand
Master rolled to the extremity of the tent, while the trunk
remained for a second standing with the goblet still clenched in its grasp, then fell, the liquor mnigling  with the
blood that spirted firom the veins..)
There was a general exclamation of treason, and
Austria, nearest to whom Saladin stood with the bloody
sabre in his hand, started back as if apprehensive that his
turn was to come next.  Richard and others laid hand
on their swords.
" Fear nothing, noble Austria," said Saladin, as composedly as if nothing had happened, 1" nor you,, royal
England, be wroth at what you have seen.  Not for his
manifold treasons;-not for the attempt which, as may
be vouched by his own squire, he instigated against King
Richa rdl's life;-not that lihe pursued the Prince of Scotland and myself in the desert, reducing us to save our
lives by the speed of our horses; —not that he had stir..
red up the Maronites to attack us upon this very occasion. had I not brought up unexpectedly so nmany.QArabs




THE TALISMAN.                 36f
as rendered the scheme abortive;-not for an) or all
of these crilnes does he now lie there, although each
were deserving such a doom;-but because, scarce hall
an hour ere he polluted our presence, as the sioomrn empoisons the atmosphere, he poniarded his comrade and
accomplice, Conrade of Montserrat, lest he should confess the infamous plots in which they had both been en
gaged."
" How! Conrade murdered?-And by the Grandt
Master, his sponsor and most intimate friend!" exclailled Richard.  " Noble Soldan, I would not doubt thee —
yet this must be proved-otherwise —  "
"There stands the evidence," said Saladin, pointing
to the terrified dwarf.  "Allah, who sends the fire- fl) to
illuminate the night season, can discover secret crimes by
the most contemptible means."
The Soldan proceeded to tell the dwarf's story, which
amounted to thiis.-Iln  his foolish curiosity, or, as he
partly confessed, with some thoughts of pilfering, Nectabanus had strayed into the tent of Conrade, which had
been deserted by his attendants, some of whom had left
the encampment to carry the news of his defeat to his
brother, and others were availing themselves of the means
which Saladin had supplied for revelling.  The wounded
man slept under the influence of Saladin's wonderfll
talisman, so that the dwarf had opportunity to pry about
at pleasure, until he was frightened into concealnent by
the sound of a heavy step.  He skulked behind a curtain,
yet could see the motions, and hear the words of the
Grand Master, who entered, and carefully secured the
covering of the pavilion behind him.  His victim started
from sleep, and it would appear that he instantly suspected the purpose of his old associate, for it was in a tone
of alarm that he demanded wherefore he disturbed him?
" 1 come to confess and to absolve thee,' an.,;wvrecd
the Grand Master.
Of their fuirther speech the terrified dwarf remember-,d little, save that Conrade implored thle Grand Master
833'VOL. 1!.




366          I'AILES OF THE CRUSADERS.
not to break a wounded reed, and that the Templar
struck him to thle heart with a Turkish dagger, with tlhe
words accipe hoc-words which long afterwards hauntea
the terrified imagination of the concealed witness.
" I verified the tale," said Saladin, " by causing the
body to be examined; and 1 made this unhappy beilng,
whllom  Allah hath made the discoverer of the crime,
repeat in your own presence the words which the murderer spoke; and you yourselves saw the effect which
they produced upon his conscience."
The Soldan paused, and the Kltg of England broke
silence:
" if this be true, as I doubt not, we  Ihave witnessed
a great act of justice, thoulgh it bore a different aspect.
But whverefore in this presence? wherefore with thine
own hand?"
"I had designed otherwise," said Saladin; " but had
I not hastened his (loom, it had been altogetlher averted,
since, if I hllad permitted hlim  to taste of my cup, as he
was about to do, how could 1, without incurring the brand
of inhospitality, have done him to death as lie dleserved?
Had lie murdered mlvy father, and afterwards partaken of
my jo(d and my bowl, not a hair of his head could have
been injured by mle.  But enougll of him-let his carcass?acd his memory be removed from amongst us."
The body was carried away, and the marks of the
slaughlter obliterated or concealed, with such ready dexterity, as showed that the case wvas not altogether so uncommon as to paralyze the assistants and officers of
Saladin's hlousellold.
But the Christian princes felt that the scene which
they had beheld weighed heavily on their spirits, and
althotlugl, at the courteous invitation of thle Sold!an, they
assuneld tlheir seats at the banquet, yet it was with the
silence of dhoubt and amazement.  The spirits of Richard alone surm-ounlted all cause for suspicion or embar"nSlnelit.   Yet lie, too, seemed to iruminate on so(me'-r'oIposition, as if lie were desilous of making it in tlle
mtiost insinuating and acceptable manner which was pos



THE TALISMAN.                 367
slble   At length he drank off a large bowl of wine, and,
addressing the Soldan, desired to know whether it was
not true that he had honoured the Earl of Huntingdon
with a personal encounter.
Saladin answered with a smile, that he had proved his
horse and his weapons with the heir of Scotland, as cavaliers are wont to do with each other when they meet in
the desert-and modestly added, that though the combat
was not entirely decisive, he had not, on his part, much
reason to pride himself on the event.  The Scot, on the
other hand, disclaimed the attributed superiority, and
wished to assign it to the Soldan.
" Enough- of honoul thou hast had in the encounter,"
said Richard, " and 1 envy thee more for that, than for
the smiles of Edith Plantagenet, though one of them
might reward a bloody day's work-But what say you,
noble princes; is it fitting that such a royal ring of chivalry should break up without something being done for
future times to speak of?  What is the overthrow and
death of a traitor, to such a fair garland of honour as is
here assembled, and which ought not to part without witnessing something more worthy of their regard?  How
say you, princely Soldan-What if we two should now,
and before this fair company, decide the long contended
question for this land of Palestine, and end at once these
tedious wars? Yonder are the lists ready, nor can Paynimrie ever hope a better champion than thou. I, unless
worthier offers, will lay down my gauntlet in behalf of
Christendom, and, in all love and honour, we will do
mortal battle for the possession of Jerusalem."
There was a deep pause for the Soldan's answer.  Hiq
cheek and brow coloured highly, and it was the opinion
of many present, that he hesitated whether he should
accept the challenge.  At length he said, "Fighting for
the Holy City against those whom we regard as idolaters
and worshippers of stocks and stones, and gr'aven images
I might confide that Allah would strengthen my arm; or
it I fell beneath the sword of the Melech Ric, I could no
Sos




368         TALES OF THE CRUSADERS.
lass to Paradise by a more glorious death. But Allah
has already given Jerusalem to the true bclievers, and it
were a tempting the God of the Prophet to peril, upcn
my own personal strength and skill, that which I hold
securely by the superiority of my forces."
"' I11 not for Jerusalem, then," said Richard, in the
tone of one who would entreat a favour of an intimate
friend, "yet, for the love of honour, let us run at least
three courses with grinded lances?"
"' Even this," said Saladin, half smiling at Cceur de
Lion's affectionate earnestness for the combat, " even
this I may not lawfully do. The master places the shepherd over the flock, not for the shepherd's own sake, but
for the sake of the sheep.  Had I a -son to hold the
sceptre when I fell, I might have had the liberty, as I
have the will, to brave this bold encounter; but your own
Scripture sayeth, that, when the herdsman is smitten, the
sheep are scattered."
" Thou hast had all the fortune," said Richard, turning to the Earl of Huntingdon with a sigh, c "I would
have given the best year in my life for that one half hour
beside the Diamond of the Desert!"
The chivalrous extravagance of Richard awakened the
spirits of the assembly, and when at length they arose to
depart, Saladin advanced and took Coeur de Lion by the
hand.
" Noble King of England," he said, "' we now part,
never to meet again. That your league is dissolved, no
more to be reunited, and that your native forces ale far
too few to enable you to prosecute your enterprize, is as
well known to me as to yourself. I may not yield you
up that Jerusalem which you so much desire to hold. It
is to us, as to you, a Holy City.  But whatever othet
terms Richard demands of Saladin, shall be as willingly
yielded as yonder fountain yields its waters.  Ay, and
the same should be as frankly afforded by Saladin, if
Richard stood in the desert with but two archers in his
train!"




THE TAI.ISM  N.                369
The next day saw Richard's return to his own camp,
and in a short space afterwards, the young Earl of
Huntingdon was espoused by Edith Plantagenet.  The
Soldan sent, as a nuptial present on this occasion, the
celebrated talisman; but though many cures were
wrought by means of it in Europe, none equalled in success and celebrity those which the Soldan achieved. It
is still in existence, having been bequeathed by the Earl
of Huntingdon to a brave knight of Scotland, Sir Simon
of the Lee, in whose ancient and highly honoured family
it is still preserved; and although charmed stones have
been dismissed from  the modern Pharmacopoeia,its virtues are still applied to for stopping blood, and in cases
of canine madiness.l0
Our story closes here, as the terms on whlich Richard
relinquished his conquests are to be found in every history of the period.








NOTES TO TO THE TALISMAN.
1. Page 84. He was a historical hero, faithfully attached, as is here
expreserl, to King Richard, and is noticedl with distinction in the romance
meottioned in the Introduction.  At the beginiing  of the romance. mcention is
made of a tournament, in which the king returns three times with a fresh suit
of armour, vwhich acted as a disguise; and at each appearance, some knight
of great prowess had a sharp encounter with him. When Richard returned
the second time, the following is Mr. Ellis's account of his proceedings:-' He now mounted a bay horse, assumied a suit of armour painted red, and
a helmet, the crest of which was a red hound, with a long tail which reached
to the earth; an emblem  intended to convey his indignation against the
heathen hounds who defiled the Holy Land, and his determination to attemp
their destruction.  Having sufficiently signalized himnself in his new disguilise
he rode into the ranks for the purpose of' selecting a more formidable adversary; and, delivering his spear to his squire, took his mace, and assaulted
Sis Thomas de Multon, a knight whose prowess was deservedly held in the
highest estimation. Sir Thomas, apparently not at all disordered by a blow
which would have felled a common adversary, calmly advised him to go and
amuse himself elsewhere; but Richard, having aimed at him a se( ond and
more violent stroke, by which his helmet was nearly crushed, he returned it
with such Vigour that the king lost his stirrups, and, recovering himself with
some difficulty, rode off with all speed into the forest."-EOLLS'S Specimens, pp. 193, 194.
2. Page 90. The Physician..3, Page 102. The Angel of Death.
4. Pa-e 129.  The Assisses de Jerusalem were the digest of fentlal law
comnposed by Godfrey of Boulogne, for the government of the Latin kiigdclom
of Palestine, when reconquered fromn the Saracelis.  " It was composed with
advice of thle patriarch and barons, the clergy and laity," and is, says tl-e
historian Gibbon, " a precious montument of fieudatory jurisprudence, fointijed
uponi those principles of freedom which were essential to the system."
5. Page 146. Richard was thus called by the Eastern nations.
6. Page 189. Such were the terms in which the English used to speak o
their poor ntorthern neighbours, fobrgetting that their ownl encroachmentts upon
the independence of Scotland obliged the weaker nation to defend themselves
by policy as well as force. The disgrace must be divided between Edward
i. and ill., who enforced their domination over a free country. and the Scots
wno were compelled to take compulsory oaths, without aly purpose of keep.
ing them.
7. Page 278. Some preparation of opium seems to be intimated.
8  Page 305. A universal tradition ascribed to Sir Tristrem, famous fti
his iove of the fair Queen Yseuilt-the laws concerning the practice of wood




3712               NOTES TO THE TALISMAN.
craft, or tenerie, as it was called, being those that related to the rules of the
chase, which were deeined of much consequence during the middle ages.
9. Page 364. The manner of the death of the supposed Grand lMastet
of the Teniplars, was taken from the real tragedy enacted by Saladill, upon
the person of Arnold or Rtgillald de Chatillon. This person, a soldier of
fortune, htad seized a castle on the verge of the desert, froml whence he made
plundering excursions, and insulted and abused the pilgrims who were on
their journey to Mecca. It was chiefly on his account that Saladin declared
war ag ainst Guy (le Lusignan, the last Latin King of the Holy Land. The
Christliar monarch was defeated by Saladin with the loss of 30, 000 men, and
having beeni made prisoner, with Chatillon and others, was conducted before
the Soldan.'Ihe victor presented to his exhausted captive a cup of sherbet,
cooled in snow.  Lusilnan having drank, was about to hand tile cup to
Chatillon, when the Sol(an interfered. " Your person," he said, " my royal
prisoner, is sacred, but the cup of Saladin must not be profaned by a blasphemous robber and ruffian."  So saying, Ite slew the captive knight by a
blow of his scimitar.-See GIBBON's Histolry.
THE LEE PENNY.
10. Page 369. Since the last sheet of this volume of the present edition
was printed off, a kind friend has transmitted the following curious document,
by which it would appear that the alleged virtues of the Lee Pennyiv had at
one time given uneasiness to our Presbyterian brethren of Clydesdale.
(Copy)
Extract from the Assemblie Books at Glasgow, anent the Lee Penny stone.
Apud Glasgow, 21 of October.5
SYNOD. SESs. 2.
QUHILK day, amongest the referries of the Brethren of the Ministry of
Laiark, it was proponed to the Synod that Gavin Ilamilton of Raploch had
pursucit al Complaint before them against Sir James Lockhart of Lee, aneut
the superstitious using of an Stone, set in silver, for the curing of deseased
Cattle, qlk the said Gavin affirmed could not be lawfully usit, and that they
had deferrit to give ony decisionne thairin till the advice of the Assemblie
might be had concerning the same. The Assemblie having inquirit of tl;e
manner of using thereof, and particularly uiiderstood, be examination of the
said Laird of Lee and otherwise, that the custom is only to cast the stoiie ilm
some water, and give the deseasit Cattle thereof to drink. and that the samne
is done without using any words, such as Charmers antd Sorcereirs use in
thair unlawfuil practices; and consideriiig that in nature thair are Inainy
Lthings seen to work stran'e effects, whereof no human wit can give a reason,
it having pleast God to give to stones and herbs a speciall vcrtue for healing
of many infirmities in man and beast, advises the Brethren to surcea ie ihair
process, as therein they perceive no ground of Offelnce, and almonishes the
said Laird of Lee, in the using of the said stone, to take  heid that it be
usit hereafter with the least scandle that possibly maybe. Extract out of the
looks of the Assemblie holden at Glasgow, aind subscribed at thair command.
M. ROBERT YOUNG, Clerk to the
Asseinble at Glasgow.
The yrar is unfortunately not given; but the Sir James Iockhart nanles
ma the exti act was born in 1596. and died in 1674.
END OF THE CRUSADERS,