The Poniard's Hilt; Or, Karadeucq and Ronan. A Tale of Bagauders and Vagres. Эжен Сю
proceeded to say while he again stamped on the floor with his foot, "you may rise, count, open your eyes, the abyss of hell is closed again"; the slab had in the meantime been raised and adjusted in its former place. "Hermit, bring the parchment to me and writing materials. You shall be my witness."
"I decline, seigneur bishop, to aid in the accomplishment of such a sacrilegious knavery," the hermit-laborer answered in Latin, "but if I reveal your trick to that barbarian he will put you to death! I shall not be the means of your death. God will one day judge you! In the meantime I shall raise my voice against your unworthy comedies."
"What! Would you be capable of abusing your influence over the masses in order to incite them to a rebellion in my diocese? Is it a declaration of war that you make to me? Do you not know that the officers of the Church must stand by one another? Or is it some favor that you mean to draw from me through intimidation? Answer!"
"To-morrow, before proceeding upon my journey, I shall tell you what I demand of you – "
Cautin, who stood in awe of the hermit, rang a bell while the count, who remained upon his knees, still trembled at every limb, and mopped the cold sweat that inundated his forehead. At the bishop's call, the confidential servant appeared. The holy man said to him in Latin:
"The hell was very satisfactory. Have the fires put out!"
And he added in the Frankish tongue:
"Order one of the count's leudes, one who can write, to step in. You shall come back with him; I shall need your services."
The servant left, and the bishop addressed the kneeling Frank:
"You have believed, you repent – you may now rise!"
"My good father, I am afraid of returning to my burg to-night. The devils might come for me on the road and take me to hell. I am terror-stricken. Keep me in your house to-night!"
"You shall be my guest until to-morrow. But I want the pretty blonde slave to be delivered to me this very evening. I promised her to my bishopess, who was once my wife according to the flesh, and is to-day my sister in God. She needs a young girl for her service – and I promised her that one. The sooner she has her, all the better pleased will she be."
"And so, bishop," said the count scratching himself behind his ear, "you must have that blonde slave?"
"Will you dare to break your engagement?"
"Oh, no! No, father! One of my leudes shall take horse, ride to my burg, and bring the slave to you on the crupper."
The deed of the donation was signed and duly witnessed by the bishop's servant and one of the count's leudes. It provided that Neroweg, count of the King of Auvergne and the city of Clermont, donated to the Church, represented by Cautin, and in remission of his sins, a hundred acres of meadow land, twenty gold sous, and a spinner female slave, fifteen years old, named Odille. After the ceremony of signing was concluded the bishop gave the Frankish count absolution for the murder of his brother and offered him three full cups of wine to comfort him.
"Sigefrid," said the count to his leude, smothering a last sigh of regret, "be a good friend to me; ride to my burg; take Odille the spinner girl on the crupper of your horse and bring her here."
CHAPTER III
AT THE CHAPEL OF ST. LOUP
The Vagres arrived near the episcopal villa.
"Ronan, the gates are solid, the windows high, the walls thick – how shall we penetrate into the place and reach the bishop?" asked the Master of the Hounds. "You promised to lead us to the very heart of the house. As for me, I'm off to the heart of the bishopess."
"Brothers, do you see yonder, at the foot of the hill, that little structure surrounded by pillars?"
"We see it – the night is clear!"
"That building was formerly a warm water bath. The warm spring lay in the mountain. The bath is reached from the villa by a long underground gallery. The bishop had the stream turned away, and transformed the former bath into a chapel that he consecrated to St. Loup. Now, then, my sturdy Vagres, we will penetrate to the very heart of the episcopal villa by that underground gallery, without need of boring holes through walls or breaking doors or windows. If I promised, did I keep?"
"As always, Ronan! You promised and kept!"
The troop entered the former warm water bath, now chapel of St. Loup. It was dark as a pocket. A voice was heard saying:
"Is that you, Ronan?"
"I and mine. Lead, Simon, you good servant of the episcopal villa! Lead on, we follow."
"We shall have to wait."
"Why delay?"
"Count Neroweg is still with the bishop, with his leudes."
"All the better! We shall capture a fox and a wild-boar at once! A superb hunt!"
"The count has with him twenty-four well armed leudes."
"We are thirty! That is fifteen Vagres more than enough for such a raid. Lead on, Simon, we follow."
"The passage is not yet free."
"Why is not the passage free that leads underground into the banquet hall?"
"The bishop prepared a miracle for this evening, in order to frighten the Frankish count with hell. Two clerks carried into the apartment under the banquet hall large bales of hay, bundles of fagots and boxes of sulphur. They are to set them on fire and yell like devils possessed; then one of the mosaic slabs of the flooring in the hall will sink down; it drops by means of the same contrivance that used to remove it in order to descend to this gallery for the warm baths."
"And the stupid Frank, imagining he sees one of the mouths of hell yawning wide, will make some generous donation to the holy man – "
"You guessed it, Ronan. So, then, we shall have to wait until the miracle is over. When the count is gone and the villa slumbering you and your men can come in safely."
"The bishopess for me!"
"To us the iron money-chest, the gold and silver vases! To us the bishop's full money-bags – and then we shall scatter alms among the poor who have not a denier!"
"To us," cried another set, "the full wine pouches and bags of grain – to us the hams and smoked meats! Alms, alms to the poor who hunger!"
"To all of us the wardrobes, the fine clothes, the warm robes – and then alms, alms to the poor who suffer with cold!"
"And then, fire to the episcopal villa – and to the sack!"
"Freedom to the slaves!"
"We shall take with us the young girls, who will follow us gladly!"
"Long live love and the Vagrery!" cried Ronan, saying which he struck up the song:
"My father was a Bagauder, and I a Vagre am; born under the green foliage as any bird in May.
"Where is my mother? I do not know, forsooth!
"A Vagre has no wife.
"The poniard in one hand, the torch held in the other, he moves from burg to burg and villas kept by bishops; he carries off the wives or concubines of bishops and of counts, and takes the belles along into the thickest of the woods!
"And first they weep and then they laugh. The jolly Vagre knows the art of love. In his strong arms the loving belles forget full soon the cacochymic bishop or the brutified duke!"
"Long live the Vagre's love!"
"You are in rollicking mood – "
"Aye, Simon, we are about to put a bishop's house to the sack!"
"You will be hanged, burned, quartered!"
"No more nor less so than Aman and Aëlian, our prophets, Bagauders in their days as we are Vagres in ours. For all that, the poor say: 'Good Aëlian!' 'Good Aman!' May they some day say: 'Good Ronan!' I would die happy, Simon!"
"Always living in the recesses of the woods – "
"Verdure is so cheerful!"
"At