In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince by Everett-Green (the chimp paradox txt) 📗

Had she not spoken of having slipped once into his cell to breathe in his ear a word of hope? Might not even that passing glimpse at such a time have been enough to subjugate his heart? He drew his breath hard, and an anxious light gleamed in his eye. But the Father continued speaking, and a load seemed to roll from his spirit with the next words.

"It is of a lady whose name is Joan that he speaks almost ceaselessly when the fever fit is on him. Sometimes he speaks, too, of his cousin, that John de Brocas who lost his life in the Black Death through his ceaseless labours amongst the sick. He is in sore trouble, as it seems, by the loss of some token given him by the lady. He fears that some foul use may be made by his foes of this same token, which he would sooner have died than parted from. If thou knowest who this lady is and where she may be found, it would do more for thy brother to have news of her than to receive all the skilled care of the best physicians in the world. I misdoubt me whether we shall bring him back to life without her aid. Wherefore, if thou knowest where she may be found, delay not to seek her. Tell her her lover yet lives, and bring him some message from her that may give him life and health."

Gaston's eyes lighted. To be given anything to do -- anything but this weary, wearing waiting and watching for the change that never came -- put new life into him forthwith.

"It must sure be Mistress Joan Vavasour thou meanest, Father," he said. "Raymond spoke much of her when we were on shipboard together. I knew not that his heart was so deeply pledged; but I see it all now. It is of her that he is dreaming night and day. It is the loss of her token that is troubling him now.

"Stop! what have I heard? Methinks that this same Peter Sanghurst was wooing Mistress Joan himself once. Sure I see another motive in his dastard capture of my brother. Perchance he had in him not only a rival for the lands of Basildene, but for the hand of the lady. Father, I see it all! Would that I had seen it before! It is Peter Sanghurst who has robbed Raymond of his token, and he may make cruel use of what he has treacherously filched away. I must lose not a day nor an hour. I must to England in the wake of this villain. Oh, why did I not understand before? What may he not have done ere I can stop his false mouth? The King shall hear all; the King shall be told all the tale! I trow he will not tarry long in punishing the coward traitor!"

Father Paul was less certain how far the King would interest himself in a private quarrel, but Peter Sanghurst's recent action with regard to Raymond might possibly be such as to stir even the royal wrath. At least it was time that some watch should be placed upon the movements of the owner of Basildene, for he would be likely to make a most unscrupulous use of any power he might possess to injure Raymond or gain any hold over the lady they both loved.

Roger being called in to the conference, and giving his testimony clearly enough as to the frequent intercourse which had existed between Mistress Joan Vavasour and Raymond de Brocas, and the evident attraction each bore for the other, the matter appeared placed beyond the possibility of all doubt. Gaston's resolve was quickly taken, and he only waited till his brother could be aroused to fuller consciousness, to start forth upon his double quest after vengeance and after Joan.

"Brother," he said, taking Raymond's hands in his, and bending tenderly over him, "I am going to leave thee, but only for a time. I am going to England to find thy Joan, and to tell her that thou art living yet, and how thou hast been robbed of thy token."

A new light shone suddenly in Raymond's eyes. It seemed as though some of the mists of weakness rolled away, leaving to him a clearer comprehension. He grasped his brother's hand with greater strength than Gaston believed him to possess, and his lips parted in a flashing smile.

"Thou wilt seek her and find her? Knowest thou where she is?"

"No; but I will go to seek her. I shall get news of her at Guildford. I will to our uncle's house forthwith. Sir Hugh Vavasour can easily be found."

"He has been wandering in foreign lands this long while," answered Raymond. "I know not whether he may have returned home. Gaston, if thou findest her, save her from the Sanghurst. Tell her that I yet live -- that for her sake I will live to protect her from that evil man. He has robbed me of the pledge of her love; I am certain of it. It was a trinket not worth the stealing, and I had it ever about my neck. It was taken from me when I was a prisoner and at their mercy, when I did not know what befell me. He has it -- I am assured of that -- and what evil use he may make of it I know not. Ah, if thou canst but find her ere he can reach her side!"

"I will find her," answered Gaston, firmly and cheerfully. "Fear not, Raymond; I have had harder tasks than this to perform ere now. Be it thy part to shake off this wasting sickness. I will seek out thy Joan, and will bring her to thy side. But let her not find thee in such sorry plight. Thou lookest yet rather a corpse than a man. Thou wouldst fright her by thy wan looks an she came to thee now."

Wan and white and wasted did Raymond indeed appear, as though a breath would blow him away. Upon his face was that faraway, ethereal look of one who has been lingering long beside the portal of another world, and scarce knows to which he belongs. It sometimes seemed as though the angel song of the unseen realm was oftener heard and understood by him than the voices of those about him. But the fever cloud was slowly lifting from his brain, and today the first impulse to a real recovery had been given by these few words with his brother.

Raymond's recollection of past events was coming back to him connectedly, and the thought of Joan acted like a tonic upon him. For her sake he would live; for her sake he would make a battle for his life. Had he not vowed himself to her service? and did any woman stand more in need of her lover's strong arm than the daughter of Sir Hugh Vavasour?

Raymond had gauged the character of that knight before, and knew that he would sell his daughter without scruple to any person who would make it worth his while. It had been notorious in old days that the Sanghursts had some peculiar hold upon him, and was it likely that Peter Sanghurst, who was plainly resolved to make Joan his wife, would allow that power to rest unused when it might be employed for the furtherance of his purpose? To send Gaston forth upon the quest for Joan was much; but he himself must fight this wasting sickness, that he might be ready to go to her when the summons came that she was found, and was ready to welcome her faithful knight.

From that hour Raymond began to amend; and although his progress was slow, and seemed doubly slow to his impatience, it was steady and sure, and he was as one given back from the dead.

"Mistress Joan Vavasour, boy? why, all the world is making that inquiry. How comes it that thou, by thine own account but just home from Gascony, shouldst be likewise asking the same question?"

Master Bernard de Brocas turned his kindly face towards Gaston with a look of shrewd inquiry in his eyes. His nephew had arrived but a short half-hour at his house, somewhat jaded by rapid travelling, and after hurriedly removing the stains of the journey from his person, was seated before a well-supplied board, whilst the cleric sat beside him, always eager for news, and exceedingly curious to know the history of the twin brothers, who for the past six months seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. But for the moment Gaston was too intent upon asking questions to have leisure to answer any.

"How?" he questioned; "what mean you, reverend Sir? Everybody asking news of her? How comes that about?"

"Marry, for the reason that the lady hath disappeared these last three weeks from her father's house, and none can tell whither she has fled, or whether she has been spirited away, or what hath befallen her. Sir Hugh is in a mighty taking, for he had just arranged a marriage betwixt her and Peter Sanghurst, and the lady had given her consent (or so it is said, albeit there be some who doubt the truth of that), and he is sorely vexed to know what can have become of her."

"Peter Sanghurst! that arch-villain!" cried Gaston, involuntarily laying his hand on the hilt of his dagger. "Mine uncle, I have come to ask counsel of thee about that same miscreant. I am glad that he at least has not fled the country. He shall not escape the fate he so richly merits."

And then, with flashing eyes and words eloquent through excess of feeling, Gaston related the whole story of the past months: the appearance on board the vessel of the Black Visor; the concerted action against Raymond carried out by Sanghurst, thus disguised, and the Sieur de Navailles; and the cruelty devised against him, from which he had escaped only by something of a miracle.

And as Master Bernard de Brocas listened to this tale of treachery, planned and carried out against one of his own name and race, an answering light shone in his eyes, and he smote his palms together, crying out in sudden wrath:

"Gaston, the King shall hear of this! Thou shalt tell to him the tale as thou hast told it to me. He will not hear patiently of such indignities offered to a subject of his, not though the King of France himself had done it! That Sieur de Navailles is no friend to England. I know him well, and his false, treacherous ways. I have heard much of him ere now, and the King has his eye upon him. Gaston, this hollow truce cannot long continue. The nobles and the King are alike weary of a peace which is no peace, and which the King of France or his lords are continually breaking. A very little, and the flame of war will burst out anew. It may be that even this tale of thine may put the spark to the train (as they say of these new artillery engines that are so astonishing men by their smoke and noise), and that the Prince, when he hears of it, will urge his father to march once more into France, and put an end to the petty annoyances and treacherous attacks which are goading the royal lion of England to wrath and fury."

"Pray Heaven it may!" cried Gaston, starting to his feet and pacing up and down the hall. "Thou knowest, uncle mine, how the Prince and the King did long ago confirm to me the rights of the De Brocas to the ancient Castles of Orthez and Saut. If he would but give me his royal warrant for mustering men and recovering mine own, I trow, be the walls of Saut never so strong, that I would speedily make mine entrance within them! Uncle, the Sieur de Navailles is hated and feared and reviled by all men for miles around his walls. I trow that, even amongst those who bear arms for him, some would be found who would gladly serve another master. Stories of the punishments he is wont to inflict upon all who fall beneath his displeasure have passed from mouth to mouth, and bitter is the rage burning in the breasts of those whose helpless kinsfolk have suffered through his tyrant cruelty. I trow an armed band, coming in the name of the English King, could soon smoke that old fox out of his hole; whilst all men would rejoice at his fall. Let me to the King -- let me tell my tale! I burn to be on the wing once more! Where may his Majesty be found?"

"Softly, softly, boy! We must think somewhat more of this. And we