The Strong Arm. Barr Robert
said all’s fair in war and saying so, gave but half the proverb, which adds, all’s fair in love as well, and maiden, nymph of the woodland, so rapidly does a man learn that which he has never been taught, I proclaim with confidence that I love thee.”
“A diffident and gentle lover you prove yourself!” she gasped with rising indignation, holding him from her.
“Indeed, my girl, there was little of diffidence or gentleness in my warring, and my wooing is like to have a touch of the same quality. It is useless to struggle for I have thee firm, so take to yourself some of that gentleness you recommend to me.”
He strove to kiss her, but Beatrix held her head far from him, her open palm pressed against the red cross that glowed upon his breast, keeping him thus at arm’s length.
“Count von Schonburg, what is the treachery of any other compared with yours? You came heedlessly into this castle, suspecting as you say, no danger: I came within this room to do you service, knowing my peril, but trusting to the honour of a true soldier of the Cross, and this is my reward! First tear from your breast this sacred emblem, valorous assaulter of a defenceless woman, for it should be worn by none but stainless gentlemen.”
Count Herbert’s arms relaxed, and his hands dropped listless to his sides.
“By my sword,” he said, “they taught you invective in the forest. You are free. Go.”
The girl made no motion to profit by her newly acquired liberty, but stood there, glancing sideways at him who scowled menacingly at her.
When at last she spoke, she said, shyly: “I have not yet fulfilled my mission.”
“Fulfil it then in the fiend’s name and begone.”
“Will you consent to see my Lady the Countess?”
“No.”
“Will you promise not to make war upon her if you are released?”
“No.”
“If, in spite of your boorishness, she sets you free, what will you do?”
“I will rally my followers to my banner, scatter the forces that surround my castle, then demolish this prison trap.”
“Am I in truth to carry such answers to the Countess?”
“You are to do as best pleases you, now and forever.”
“I am but a simple serving-maid, and know nothing of high questions of state, yet it seems to me such replies do not oil prison bolts, and believe me, I grieve to see you thus detained.”
“I am grateful for your consideration. Is your embassy completed?”
The girl, her eyes on the stone floor, paused long before replying, then said, giving no warning of a change of subject, and still not raising her eyes to his:
“You took me by surprise; I am not used to being handled roughly; you forget the distance between your station and mine, you being a noble of the Empire, and I but a serving-maid; if, in my anger, I spoke in a manner unbecoming one so humble, I do beseech that your Lordship pardon me.”
“Now by the Cross to which you appealed, how long will you stand chattering there? Think you I am made of adamant, and not of flesh and blood? My garments are tattered at best, I would in woman’s company they were finer, and this cross of Genoa red hangs to my tunic, but by a few frail threads. Beware, therefore, that I tear it not from my breast as you advised, and cast it from me.”
Beatrix lifted one frightened glance to the young man’s face and saw standing on his brow great drops of sweat. His right hand grasped the upper portion of the velvet cross, partly detached from his doublet, and he looked loweringly upon her. Swiftly she smote the door twice with her hand and instantly the portal opened as far as the chain would allow it. Count Herbert noticed that in the interval, three other chains had been added to the one that formerly had baffled his sword. The girl, like a woodland pigeon, darted underneath the lower chain, and although the prisoner took a rapid step forward, the door, with greater speed, closed and was bolted.
The Count had requested the girl to be gone, and surely should have been contented now that she had withdrawn herself, yet so shifty a thing is human nature, that no sooner were his commands obeyed than he began to bewail their fulfilment. He accused himself of being a double fool, first, for not holding her when he had her; and secondly, having allowed her to depart, he bemoaned the fact that he had acted rudely to her, and thus had probably made her return impossible. His prison seemed inexpressibly dreary lacking her presence. Once or twice he called out her name, but the echoing empty walls alone replied.
For the first time in his life the heavy sleep of the camp deserted him, and in his dreams he pursued a phantom woman, who continually dissolved in his grasp, now laughingly, now in anger.
The morning found him deeply depressed, and he thought the unaccustomed restraints of a prison were having their effect on the spirits of a man heretofore free. He sat silently on the bench watching the door.
At last, to his great joy, he heard the rattle of bolts being withdrawn. The door opened slowly to the small extent allowed by the chains, but no one entered and the Count sat still, concealed from the view of whoever stood without.
“My Lord Count,” came the sweet tones of the girl and the listener with joy, fancied he detected in it a suggestion of apprehension, doubtless caused by the fact that the room seemed deserted. “My Lord Count, I have brought your breakfast; will you not come and receive it?”
Herbert rose slowly and came within range of his jailer’s vision. The girl stood in the hall, a repast that would have tempted an epicure arrayed on the wooden trencher she held in her hands.
“Beatrix, come in,” he said.
“I fear that in stooping, some portion of this burden may fall. Will you not take the trencher?”
The young man stepped to the opening and, taking the tray from her, placed it on the bench as he had previously done; then repeated his invitation.
“You were displeased with my company before, my Lord, and I am loath again to offend.”
“Beatrix, I beg you to enter. I have something to say to you.”
“Stout chains bar not words, my Lord. Speak and I shall listen.”
“What I have to say, is for your ear alone.”
“Then are the conditions perfect for such converse, my Lord. No guard stands within this hall.”
The Count sighed deeply, turned and sat again on the bench, burying his face in his hands. The maiden having given excellent reasons why she should not enter, thus satisfying her sense of logic, now set logic at defiance, slipped under the lowest chain and stood within the room, and, so that there might be no accusation that she did things by halves, closed the door leaning her back against it. The knight looked up at her and saw that she too had rested but indifferently. Her lovely eyes half veiled, showed traces of weeping, and there was a wistful expression in her face that touched him tenderly, and made him long for her; nevertheless he kept a rigid government upon himself, and sat there regarding her, she flushing, slightly under his scrutiny, not daring to return his ardent gaze.
“Beatrix,” he said slowly, “I have acted towards you like a boor and a ruffian, as indeed I am; but let this plead for me, that I have ever been used to the roughness of the camp, bereft of gentler influences. I ask your forgiveness.”
“There is nothing to forgive. You are a noble of the Empire, and I but a lowly serving-maid.”
“Nay, that cuts me to the heart, and is my bitterest condemnation. A true man were courteous to high and low alike. Now, indeed, you overwhelm me with shame, maiden of the woodlands.”
“Such was not my intention, my Lord. I hold you truly noble in nature as well as in rank, otherwise I stood not here.”
“Beatrix, does any woodlander come from the forest to the castle walls and there give signal intended for you alone?”
“Oh, no, my Lord.”
“Perhaps