Child Christopher and Goldilind the Fair Page 6

  Christopher would have taken a hand of her to lead her in, but bothhands were in her gown to lift up the hem as she passed over thethreshold; so he durst not.

  Fair and bright now was the hall within, with its long and low windowsgoodly glazed, a green halling on the walls of Adam and Eve and thegarden, and the good God walking therein; the sun shone bright throughthe southern windows, and about the porch it was hot, but further towardthe dais cool and pleasant.

  So Goldilind sat down in the coolest of the place at the standing table;but Christopher bestirred himself, and brought wine and white bread, andvenison and honey, and said: "I pray thee to dine, maiden, for it isnow hard on noon; and as for my fair fellows, I look not for them beforesunset for they were going far into the wood."

  She smiled on him, and ate and drank a little deal, and he with her.Sooth to say, her heart was full, and though she had forgotten her fear,she was troubled, because, for as glad as she was, she could not be asglad as her gladness would have her, for the sake of some lack, she knewnot what.

  Now spake Christopher: "I would tell thee something strange, to wit,though it is little more than three hours since I first saw thee besidethe river, yet I seem to know thee as if thou wert a part of my life."

  She looked on him shyly, and he went on: "This also is strange, and,withal, it likes me not, that when I speak of my fair fellows here,David, and Gilbert, and Joanna, they are half forgotten to my heart,though their names are on my tongue; and this house, doth it like thee,fair guest?"

  "Yea, much," she said; "it seems joyous to me: and I shall tell theethat I have mostly dwelt in unmerry houses, though they were of greatercost than this."

  Said Christopher: "To me it hath been merry and happy enough; but now itseems to me as if it had all been made for thee and this meeting."

  "Is it therefore no longer merry to thee because of that?" she said,smiling, yet flushing much red therewith. Now it was his turn not toanswer her, and she cast down her eyes before him, and there was silencebetween them.

  Then she looked at him steadily, and said: "It is indeed grievous thatthou shouldest forget thine old friends for me, and that it should havecome into thy mind that this fair and merry house was not made for thyfair fellows and thy delight with them, but for me, the chance-comer.For, hearken, whereas thou saidst e'en now, that I was become a part ofthy life, how can that be? For if I become the poor captive again, howcanst thou get to me, thou who art thyself a castaway, as thou hast toldme? Yea, but even so, I shall be too low for thee to come down to me.And if I become what I should be, then I must tell thee that I shallbe too high for thee to climb up to me; so that in one way or other weshall be sundered, who have but met for an hour or two."

  He hung his head a while as they stood there face to face, for both ofthem had arisen from the board; but presently he looked up to her withglittering eyes, and said: "Yea, for an hour or two; why then do wetarry and linger, and say what we have no will to say, and refrain fromwhat our hearts bid us?"

  Therewith he caught hold of her right wrist, and laid his hand on herleft shoulder, and this first time that he had touched her, it was as ifa fire ran through all his body and changed it into the essence of her:neither was there any naysay in her eyes, nor any defence against him inthe yielding body of her. But even in that nick of time he drew back alittle, and turned his head, as a man listening, toward the door, andsaid: "Hist! hist! Dost thou hear, maiden?" She turned deadly pale: "Owhat is it? What is it? Yea, I hear; it is horses drawing nigh, and thesound of hounds baying. But may it not be thy fellows coming back?"

  "Nay, nay," he said; "they rode not in armour. Hark to it! and thesehounds are deep-voiced sleuth-dogs! But come now, there may yet betime."

  He turned, and caught up axe and shield from off the wall, and drew hertoward a window that looked to the north, and peered out of it warily;but turned back straightway, and said: "Nay, it is too late that way,they are all round about the house. Maiden, get thou up into the solarby this stair, and thou wilt find hiding-place behind the traverse ofthe bed; and if they go away, and my fellows come in due time, then artthou safe. But if not, surely they shall do thee no hurt; for I think,indeed, that thou art some great one."

  And he fell to striding down the hall toward the door; but she ran afterhim, and caught his arm, and said: "Nay, nay, I will not hide, to bedragged out of my refuge like a thief: thou sayest well that I am of thegreat; I will stand by thee and command and forbid as a Queen. O go notto the door! Stay by me, stay!"

  "Nay, nay," he said, "there is nought for it but the deed of arms. Look!seest thou not steel by the porch?"

  And therewith he broke from her and ran to the door, and was met uponthe very threshold by all-armed men, upon whom he fell without more ado,crying out: "For the Tofts! For the Tofts! The woodman to the rescue!"And he hewed right and left on whatsoever was before him, so that whatfell not, gave back, and for a moment of time he cleared the porch; butin that nick of time his axe brake on the basnet of a huge man-at-arms,and they all thrust them on him together and drave him back into thehall, and came bundling after him in a heap. But he drave his shieldat one, and then with his right hand smote another on the bare face, sothat he rolled over and stirred no more till the day of doom. Then wasthere a weapon before him, might he have stooped to pick it up; but hemight not; so he caught hold of a sturdy but somewhat short man by thecollar and the lap of his leather surcoat, and drew aback, and with amighty heave cast him on the rout of them, who for their parts had drawnback a little also, as if he had been a huge stone, and down went twobefore that artillery; and they set up a great roar of wonder and fear.But he followed them, and this time got an axe in his hand, so mazedthey were by his onset, and he hewed at them again and drave them abackto the threshold of the door: but could get them no further, and theybegan to handle long spears to thrust at him.

  But then came forward a knight, no mickle man, but clad in very goodlyarmour, with a lion beaten in gold on his green surcoat; this man smoteup the spears, and made the men go back a little, while he stood on thethreshold; so Christopher saw that he would parley with him, and forborehim, and the knight spake: "Thou youngling, art thou mad? What doestthou falling on my folk?"

  "And what do ye," said Christopher fiercely, "besetting the houses offolk with weapons? Now wilt thou take my life. But I shall yet slay oneor two before I die. Get thee back, lord, or thou shalt be the first."

  But the knight, who had no weapon in his hand, said: "We come butto seek our own, and that is our Lady of Meadham, who dwelleth atGreenharbour by her own will. And if thou wilt stand aside thou mayst gofree to the devil for us."

  Now would Christopher have shouted and fallen on, and gone to his deaththere and then; but even therewith a voice, clear and sweet, spake atthe back of him, and said: "Thou kind host, do thou stand aside and letus speak that which is needful." And therewith stepped forth Goldilindand stood beside Christopher, and said: "Sir Burgreve, we rode forth todrink the air yesterday, and went astray amidst the wild-wood, and werebelated, so that we must needs lie down under the bare heaven; but thismorning we happened on this kind forester, who gave us to eat, and tookus to his house and gave us meat and drink; for which it were seemlierto reward him than threaten him. Now it is our pleasure that ye lead usback to Greenharbour; but as for this youth, that ye do him no hurt, butlet him go free, according to thy word spoken e'en now, Sir Burgreve."

  She spake slowly and heavily, as one who hath a lesson to say, and itwas to be seen of her that all grief was in her heart, though her wordswere queenly. Some of them that heard laughed; but the Burgreve spake,and said: "Lady, we will do thy will in part, for we will lead thee toGreenharbour in all honour; but as to this young man, if he will not beslain here and now, needs must he with us. For he hath slain two of ourmen outright, and hath hurt many, and, methinks, the devil of the woodsis in his body. So do thou bid him be quiet, if thou wouldst not see hisblood flow."

  She turned a pale unhappy face on Christopher, and sai
d: "My friend,we bid thee withstand them no more, but let them do with thee as theywill."

  Christopher stood aside therewith, and sat down on a bench and laughed,and said in a high voice: "Stout men-at-arms, forsooth, to take a maid'skirtle to their shield."

  But therewith the armed men poured into the hall, and a half dozen ofthe stoutest came up unto Christopher where he sat, and bound his handswith their girdles, and he withstood them no whit, but sat laughing intheir faces, and made as if it were all a Yule-tide game. But inwardlyhis heart burned with anger, and with love of that sweet Lady.

  Then they made him stand up, and led him without the house, and set himon a horse, and linked his feet together under the belly thereof. Andwhen that was done he saw them lead out the Lady, and they set her in ahorse litter, and then the whole troop rode off together, with twomen riding on either side of the said litter. In this wise they leftLittledale.

  CHAPTER XVII. GOLDILIND COMES BACK TO GREENHARBOUR.

  They rode speedily, and had with them men who knew the woodland ways,so that the journey was nought so long thence as Goldilind had made itthither; and they stayed not for nightfall, since the moon was bright,so that they came before the Castle-gate before midnight. Now Goldilindlooked to be cast into prison, whatever might befall her upon themorrow; but so it went not, for she was led straight to her own chamber,and one of her women, but not Aloyse, waited on her, and when she triedto have some tidings of her, the woman spake to her no more than if shewere dumb. So all unhappily she laid her down in her bed, foreboding theworst, which she deemed might well be death at the hand of her jailers.As for Christopher, she saw the last of him as they entered theCastle-gate, and knew not what they had done with him. So she lay indismal thoughts, but at last fell asleep for mere weariness.

  When she awoke it was broad day, and there was someone going about inthe chamber; she turned, and saw that it was Aloyse. She felt sickat heart, and durst not move or ask of tidings; but presently Aloyseturned, and came to the bed, and made an obeisance, but spake not.Goldilind raised her head, and said wearily: "What is to be done,Aloyse, wilt thou tell me? For my heart fails me, and meseems, unlessthey have some mercy, I shall die to-day."

  "Nay," said the chambermaid, "keep thine heart up; for here is one athand who would see thee, when it is thy pleasure to be seen."

  "Yea," said Goldilind, "Dame Elinor to wit." And she moaned, and fearand heart-sickness lay so heavy on her that she went nigh to swooning

  But Aloyse lifted up her head, and brought her wine and made her drink,and when Goldilind was come to herself again the maid said: "I say, keepup thine heart, for it is not Dame Elinor and the rods that would seethee, but a mighty man; nay, the most mighty, to wit, Earl Geoffrey, whois King of Meadham in all but the name."

  Goldilind did in sooth take heart at this tidings, and she said: "Iwonder what he may have to do here; all this while he hath not been toGreenharbour, or, mayhappen, it might have been better for me."

  "I wot not," said Aloyse, "but even so it is. I shall tell thee, themessenger, whose horse thou didst steal, brought no other word in hismouth save this, that my Lord Earl was coming; and come he did; butthat was toward sunset, long after they had laid the blood-hounds on thyslot, and I had been whipped for letting thee find the way out a-gates.Now, our Lady, when thou hast seen the Earl, and hast become our Ladyand Mistress indeed, wilt thou bethink thee of the morn before yesterdayon my behalf?"

  "Yea," said Goldilind, "if ever it shall befall."

  "Befall it shall," said Aloyse; "I dreamed of thee three nights ago, andthou sitting on thy throne commanding and forbidding the great men. Butat worst no harm hath happened save to my shoulders and sides, by thystealing thyself, since thou hast come back in the nick of time, and ofthine own will, as men say. But tell me now of thine holiday, and if itwere pleasant to thee?"

  Goldilind fell a-weeping at the word, bethinking her of yesterdaymorning, and Aloyse stood looking on her, but saying nought. At lastspake Goldilind softly: "Tell me, Aloyse, didst thou hear any speakingof that young man who was brought in hither last night? Have they slainhim?"

  Said Aloyse: "Soothly, my Lady, I deem they have done him no hurt,though I wot not for sure. There hath been none headed or hanged in thebase-court to-day. I heard talk amongst the men-at-arms of one whom theytook; they said he was a wonder of sheer strength, and how that he casttheir men about as though he were playing at ball. Sooth to say, theyseemed to bear him no grudge therefor. But now I would counsel thee toarise; and I am bidden to tire and array thee at the best. And now Iwould say a word in thine ear, to wit, that Dame Elinor feareth theesomewhat this morn."

  So Goldilind arose, and was arrayed like a very queen, and was servedof what she would by Aloyse and the other women, and sat in her chamberawaiting the coming of the mighty Lord of Meadham.

  CHAPTER XVIII. EARL GEOFFREY SPEAKS WITH GOLDILIND.

  But a little while had she sat there, before footsteps a many came tothe door, which was thrown open, and straight it was as if the sun hadshone on a flower-bed, for there was come Earl Geoffrey and his lordsall arrayed most gloriously. Then came the Earl up the chamber toGoldilind, and bent the knee before her, and said: "Lady and Queen, isit thy pleasure that thy servant should kiss thine hand?"

  She made him little cheer, but reached out to him her lily hand in itsgold sleeve, and said: "Thou must do thy will."

  So he kissed the hand reverently, and said: "And these my lords, maythey enter and do obeisance and kiss hands, my Lady?"

  Said Goldilind: "I will not strive to gainsay their will, or thine, myLord."

  So they entered and knelt before her, and kissed her hand; and, to saysooth, most of them had been fain to kiss both hands of her, yea, andher cheeks and her lips; though but little cheer she made them, butlooked sternly on them.

  Then the Earl spake to her, and told her of her realm, and how folkthrived, and of the deep peace that was upon the land, and of the merrydays of Meadham, and the praise of the people. And she answered himnothing, but as he spake her bosom began to heave, and the tears cameinto her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Then man looked on man, andthe Earl said: "My masters, I deem that my Lady hath will to speak to meprivily, as to one who is her chiefest friend and well-willer. Is it so,my Lady?"

  She might not speak for the tears that welled out from her heart; butshe bowed her head and strove to smile on him.

  But the Earl waved his hand, and those lords, and the women also, voidedthe chamber, and left those two alone, the Earl standing before her.But ere he could speak, she arose from her throne and fell on her kneesbefore him, and joined hands palm to palm, and cried in a broken voice:"Mercy! Mercy! Have pity on my young life, great Lord!"

  But he lifted her up, and set her on her throne again, and said: "Nay,my Lady, this is unmeet; but if thou wouldst talk and tell with me I amready to hearken."

  She strove with her passion a while, and then she said: "Great Lord, Ipray thee to hearken, and to have patience with a woman's weak heart.Prithee, sit down here beside me.

  "It were unfitting," he said; "I shall take a lowlier seat." Then hedrew a stool to him, and sat down before her, and said: "What aileththee? What wouldest thou?"

  Then she said: "Lord Earl, I am in prison; I would be free."

  Quoth he: "Yea, and is this a prison, then?"

  "Yea," she said, "since I may not so much as go out from it and comeback again unthreatened; yet have I been, and that unseldom, in a worserprison than this: do thou go look on the Least Guard-chamber, and see ifit be a meet dwelling for thy master's daughter."

  He spake nought awhile; then he said: "And, yet if it grieveth thee, itmarreth thee nought; for when I look on thee mine eyes behold the beautyof the world, and the body wherein is no lack."

  She reddened and said: "If it be so, it is God's work, and I praise himtherefor. But how long will it last? For grief slayeth beauty."

  He looked on her long, and said: "To thy friends I betook thee, and Ilooked that they sho
uld cherish thee; where then is the wrong that Ihave done thee?"

  She said: "Maybe no wrong wittingly; since now, belike, thou art cometo tell me that all this weary sojourn is at an end, and that thou wilttake me to Meadhamstead, and set me on the throne there, and show myfather's daughter to all the people."

  He held his peace, and his face grew dark before her while she watchedit. At last he spake in a harsh voice: "Lady," he said, "it may not be;here in Greenharbour must thou abide, or in some other castle apart fromthe folk."

  "Yea," she said, "now I see it is true, that which I foreboded whenfirst I came hither: thou wouldst slay me, that thou mayest sit safelyin the seat of thy master's daughter; thou durst not send me a man witha sword to thrust me through, therefore thou hast cast me into prisonamongst cruel jailers, who have been bidden by thee to take my lifeslowly and with torments. Hitherto I have withstood their malice andthine; but now am I overcome, and since I know that I must die, I havenow no fear, and this is why I am bold to tell thee this that I havespoken, though I wot now I shall be presently slain. And now I tell theeI repent it, that I have asked grace of a graceless face."

  Although she spake strong words, it was with a mild and steady voice.But the Earl was sore troubled, and he rose up and walked to and froof the chamber, half drawing his sword and thrusting it back into thescabbard from time to time. At last he came back to her, and sat downbefore her and spake:

  "Maiden, thou art somewhat in error. True it is that I would sit firm inmy seat and rule the land of Meadham, as belike none other could. Trueit is also that I would have thee, the rightful heir, dwell apart fromthe turmoil for a while at least; for I would not have thy white handsthrust me untimely from my place, or thy fair face held up as a bannerby my foemen. Yet nowise have I willed thy death or thine anguish; andif all be true as thou sayest it, and thou art so lovely that I know nothow to doubt it, tell me then what these have done with thee."