The Poniard's Hilt Part 34

"I have thought of that, Ronan, but I lack the courage."

"But should she unfortunately live till to-morrow, her fate will be yours. Keep in mind that you will be stripped naked by that band of Franks, and whipped by them with switches!"

"Keep still, Ronan, shame mantles my cheeks! To me, a woman, that part of the punishment--to be exposed naked before those men--is the worst!"

"Your husband, the bishop, knew that, just as he was aware that, if you were tortured to-day, you would lose some of the strength necessary to endure to-morrow's punishment to the end, on account of which he spared you.--You will both thereupon be impaled. Before impalement, poor dear victims, your nipples will be torn from you with burning tongs. Finally you will both be thrown upon the pyre with whatever little life may be still in you. As you see, the torture is finely graded, and will not you, you who have the power, s.n.a.t.c.h the dear girl from such torment? Oh, I see, you finally take the decision--your hands are creeping up to Odille's neck. Courage, no weakness! Remember that our mothers themselves put their beloved little ones to death. What! You hesitate--your hands drop down again! You weep!"

"I have not the courage--I cannot."

"Craven soul!"

"No, Ronan, I am no craven. No--were she my daughter I would kill her."

"I understand. Odille is a stranger to you--you cannot love her enough to decide to kill her. We must pardon the bishopess for her want of kindness, not so, Loysik?"

At that moment the young slave moved, gave a slight sigh, half raised her head, her eyes opened and looked around for Ronan. When they finally fell upon him she said, after a moment, in a weak voice:

"Ronan, is the night over, and is it now day?"

"This is not the light of day my child; it is the light from the lamp that burns outside our prison. Your strength seems exhausted, you were in a torpor."

"I dreamed a sweet and sad dream. My mother rocked me on her knees singing the chant of Hena, and then she said to me weeping: 'Odille, it is you they are going to burn!' I then woke up and believed it was day.

Oh, Ronan, it is a long time till to-morrow! And the execution! The execution! How it will be prolonged--unless the pain be so intense that I die immediately."

"And will you not regret life?"

"Ronan, I tried to kill myself when I thought you were dead; you are sentenced to death like ourselves; I have neither father nor mother; what should I regret, all the less seeing that we are to live again in yonder worlds near those whom we have loved? We shall soon meet again."

"By the faith of a Vagre, what is death, beautiful bishopess? Only a change of vestments and lodging. As to the execution, two or three hours of suffering is the extreme, and the end is certain. Do you know, Loysik, what grieves me most at this hour? It is to quit this world, leaving our dearly beloved Gaul forever in the clutches of the Franks and bishops!"

"No, no, brother--centuries are centuries to man, they are hardly hours to mankind in its eternal progress! The world in which we live seems large to us--and yet, what is it, rolling and confounded among the myriads of the starry worlds who at this hour of the night glisten in our eyes from the vast expanse of the vault of heaven--mysterious worlds in which we are to relive successively, in body and soul, but with bodies new and evermore repurified! Brother, at the time of the conquest of Caesar, our ancestors, then enslaved and loaded with chains centuries ago in the very _ergastula_ where we now are, said, perhaps, as you just now in despair: 'Our dearly beloved Gaul is forever enslaved to the Roman conqueror'--and yet not two centuries and a half had pa.s.sed before, by dint of heroic insurrections against the Romans, Gaul again won back, step by step, although paying dearly for it with the blood of our fathers, the country's rights, liberties, and even final independence during the glorious era of Victoria the Great!"

"You are right, Loysik; you are right."

"And do you forget the prophetic vision of that august woman--the vision that our ancestor Schanvoch transmitted to us in the narrative of his days, and that our father so often told us of?"

"In that vision, Victoria saw Gaul enslaved, exhausted, bleeding, prostrate and crushed down under heavy burdens, dragging herself along the ground under the whip of the Frankish kings and the bishops! And then again she saw Gaul free, proud, radiant, trampling under foot the collar of slavery, the crown of kings and the tiara of Popes! Gaul then held in one hand a bundle of fruits and flowers, in the other a standard surmounted by the Gallic c.o.c.k--the red flag."

"What, then, do you fear? Think of the past! First bent down under the Roman conquest, Gaul re-rises through the courage of her sons and becomes again free and redoubtable! Let the past give you faith in the future! Perchance that future is still far away. What is time to us--to us, who at this supreme moment have but the last few hours of our life to count! Oh, my brother, I have a profound faith, an invincible faith, in the final rejuvenation and enfranchis.e.m.e.nt of Gaul!--centuries are centuries to man; they are but instants in the eternal progress of mankind!"

"Loysik, you rea.s.sure me, you confirm my confidence. Aye, I shall leave this world with my eyes fixed upon the radiant vision of renascent Gaul!

Still one sorrow I carry with me--our uncertainty regarding the fate of our father. What may have become of him?"

"If he still lives, Ronan, may he never know of our end! He loved us so tenderly--his was a large heart. At a season of national insurrection and at the head of a province risen in arms, he might have become a hero like the Chief of the Hundred Valleys, who was his idol! At the head of a band of men in revolt, our father could be nothing but a chief of Bagauders or Vagres.[B] You know my sentiments with regard to those terrible reprisals, which, however legitimate they may be, leave only ruins and disaster behind them. But without approving his conduct, I feel inclined to acquit him of blame, because his vengeance never smote but the wicked."

[B] "I do not know by what diabolical influence they accomplished it, but they seduced in this fas.h.i.+on an immense mult.i.tude of men, who set themselves to pillaging and despoiling all whom they met on their way, and distributed their spoils among those who had nothing."--Bishop Gregory of Tours. Histoire des Franks, IV., 10.

"Brother," said Ronan, "they seem to be in high feather at the burg! Do you hear the distant din of their merriment? Oh, by the bones of our ancestor Sylvest, the young and brilliant Roman seigneurs, who, crowned with flowers laughed with cruel laughter and careless of the future on the gilded balcony of the circus, while their slaves, who were consigned to the wild beasts, awaited death in the sombre vault of the amphitheatre, just as we to-night await it in this underground prison--they were also quite hilarious. Aye, those Roman seigneurs were indeed hilarious; and yet from the depths of their dungeons the Gallic slaves shook their chains in cadence and sang the prophetic words: 'Flow, flow, thou blood of the captive! Drop, drop, thou dew of gore!

Germinate, sprout up, thou avenging harvest! Hasten, thou mower, hasten!

It is ripe! Whet your scythe, whet it! Whet your scythe!'"

CHAPTER VIII.

IN THE BANQUET HALL.

Neroweg feasted his royal guest Chram at his best. At first he hesitated to take his gold and silver vessels, the fruit of his ravages, out of his coffers and exhibit them on his table. He feared to excite the cupidity of Chram and his favorites, apprehending that the latter would indulge their nature for pilfering, or that the former might make some covetous demand upon him. In the end, however, yielding to a barbarian's vanity, the count could not resist the desire to display his wealth before the eyes of his guests. Accordingly, he produced from his ample coffers the large amphoras, the goblets, the large bowls, the huge dishes--all of ma.s.sive gold or silver, fas.h.i.+oned in the Greek, Roman or Gallic style and as varied as the plunderings from which these riches proceeded. Among these valuable articles were also several goblets of jasper, of porphyry and of onyx studded with precious stones; there were also strewn over the table several hand basins made of rare wood, hooped in gold and inlaid with carbuncles. But none of these precious articles was to be used by the count's guests; the valuables were heaped upon the table without order like piles of booty; they were intended merely to delight the sight or tickle the envy of the guests who could purloin none of the articles by reason of the distance at which they were heaped from them upon the vast table of the banquet hall. In front of Prince Chram and Bishop Cautin the count had ordered to be spread in the shape of a table cloth a bit of purple cloth embroidered in gold and silver and similar to that which covered their seats. Prince Chram and the bishop alone were allowed to use a jasper goblet studded with precious stones. They ate from a dish of solid gold in which the food destined for them was spread. The plates before the other guests were of wood, tin or clay. In order to do further honor to the King's son the count had donned over his greasy skin jacket and his leather hose an antique dalmatica of silver cloth with gold bees embroidered upon it, a present made to his father by King Clovis. Around his neck Neroweg wore two heavy gold chains, on several links of which he had ingeniously fastened a number of earrings intended for women and glistening with precious stones. A peac.o.c.k would not have been prouder of its plumage than was that Frankish seigneur under his dalmatica and jewels, with his shaven chin, his long reddish moustache and his yellow hair drawn back and fastened at the top of his head by a gold bracelet studded with rubies, from which the coa.r.s.e and unkempt hair fell back over his neck like the tail of a horse.

The aspect presented by the banquet hall matched that of the host. It was a mixture of luxury, barbarism, slovenliness and dirt. Around the table of rough wood, covered by rich cloth only in front of Chram and the bishop, and bearing in its center the heaped-up pile of costly vessels, ragged slaves moved about under orders of the seneschal, the steward, the cup-bearer or other head servants of the count, all clad in the skin jackets that they wore in all seasons, and which were as soiled as otherwise uncouth. The number of torch-bearing slaves intended to light the banquet table had been doubled, tripled and quadrupled; the number of barrels set up at the four corners of the hall was likewise increased; they were stood up one on top of the other, presenting the appearance of squatty pillars. In order to reach the higher kegs and fill up the pots of beer the cup-bearers were compelled to serve themselves with a ladder. By this time, however, the upper barrels had long been emptied. The old wine of Clermont that they once contained was cheering, warming and mounting to the heads of the convivial crowd.

Yielding to his natural inclination for carousal, and delighting in advance at the prospect of seeing Ronan the Vagre, the hermit-laborer and the beautiful bishopess executed on the morrow, Bishop Cautin could hardly keep his seat. He drank, frolicked, bantered and even indulged in sallies of aggressive sarcasm. Despite his aversion for Chram the bishop dared not shoot his arrows at him; and he stood in even greater awe of the Lion of Poitiers. The Gallic renegade, rancorous as the devil himself, had said to the man of G.o.d, accompanying the word with the looks of an enraged lion: "You forced me to alight from my horse and kneel down before you; I shall have my revenge; I shall abide my time."

The real b.u.t.t of the bishop's sarcasm was Neroweg, habitually stupid and dumb.

"Count," Cautin said to him, "your hospitality comes from an overflowing heart; of that I am certain; but your food is execrable in its abundance; it is all meat and fish, boiled and grilled, served in profusion but without taste; it is a true barbarian's feast, who lives upon his flocks, hunting and fis.h.i.+ng; there is not here a single appet.i.te-provoking and delicate dish; we are filled and that is all! I take his glory, Prince Chram, for witness."

"Our host and friend does his best," said Chram, who, finding his projects already somewhat deranged by the torture of Ronan the Vagre, was anxious to keep the count in good humor. "Before the cordial spirit of Neroweg's hospitality, I think little of the feast itself."

"But I do think of it, glorious Prince," rejoined the bishop. "I have told the count a hundred times that his cooks are detestable; they do not know how to prepare the food. Tell me, Neroweg, how much did you pay for the slave who is the chief of your kitchen?"

"I paid nothing for him. My leudes found him on the road to Clermont, they took him and brought him to me in bonds. Yesterday, however, he had his feet burned by the trial of the judgment of G.o.d, and his tongue was afterwards pulled out in punishment for his blasphemies. He must have been indisposed to-day and helped himself with other slaves who are less skilful than himself in the preparation of food."

"Oh, I understand! Of course having had his tongue cut out he was not able to taste the sauces; but he is nevertheless a wretched cook. And I am not surprised; what can one expect of a cook who is picked up accidentally on the high road! You do not seem to know, count, that bad cooks spoil the best of dishes. Here, for instance, are some cranes--think of it, cranes! a toothsome meat, more succulent than any if properly prepared. Now just see how that a.s.s, that churl of a cook serves them up--boiled in water!"

"Come, father, be not angry, we shall have them roasted next time."

"Roasted! that would be still more criminal! roasted cranes! Come this way, steward, I will give you the recipe for the cook--if he is capable of carrying it out."

"Oh, holy bishop, with the help of the whip the cook could not choose but carry out the recipe."

"I must humbly declare that I am not the inventor of the way in which cranes must be prepared. I read it and learned it from the writings of Apicius, a celebrated Roman gourmand, who died, alas, many years ago, but his genius will live as long as cranes will fly."

"Let us have the recipe, father."

"Here it is: You wash and dress your crane, you then put it in an earthen pot, with water, salt and anise--"

"Well! that is just what my cook did; he washed the crane in water and salt--"

"But let me finish, barbarian, and you will soon enough see that the lazy a.s.s stopped in the middle of the road instead of proceeding to the end. Now you must allow the water in which your crane is laid, to be boiled down one-half; thereupon you put it into a pan with olive oil broth flavored with wild marjoram and coriander; when your crane is done to the turn, pour in some wine mixed with honey and spices, a pinch of c.u.min, a taste of benzoin, a bit of rue and some caraway seed boiled in vinegar; pour in flour to give consistency to your sauce, which will then be of a handsome gold brown tint; you pour this over your crane after having placed the bird handsomely on a large platter with its round neck gently curled in a circle and holding in its long beak a spray of greens. And now I ask his glory, Prince Chram, I ask our ill.u.s.trious friends here a.s.sembled--is there any comparison between a crane, prepared in such a style, and this shapeless, colorless thing that seems to be swimming in a bowl of greasy water?"

"If G.o.d, the Father, needed a cook, he would certainly choose you, sensuous bishop," said the Lion of Poitiers; "you would be no disgrace in paradise as the chief of the celestial kitchens."

At the impious jest the holy man made a grimace of rage, remembering only recently he had actually officiated as cook, but not in paradise--it was in Vagrery. He filled his cup and drained it at one draught, looking askance at the royal favorite.

"Come, Count Neroweg," said Spatachair, "there is mercy for every sin; some other day you will treat us to a choicer feast--and you will promise your wife to preside at the banquet."