o
remember."
"i cannot understand it," quoth the seneschal, "for the english
knights and nobles whom i have met were not men to brook the
insolence of the base born."
"perchance, my fair lord, the poor folk are sweeter and of a
better countenance in england," laughed the lady rochefort. "mon
dieu! you cannot conceive to yourself how ugly they are!
without hair, without teeth, all twisted and bent; for me, i
cannot think how the good god ever came to make such people. i
cannot bear it, i, and so my trusty raoul goes ever before me
with a cudgel to drive them from my path."
"yet they have souls, fair lady, they have souls!" murmured the
chaplain, a white-haired man with a weary, patient face.
"so i have heard you tell them," said the lord of the castle;
"and for myself, father, though i am a true son of holy church,
yet i think that you were better employed in saying your mass and
in teaching the children of my men-at-arms, than in going over
the country-side to put ideas in these folks' heads which would
never have been there but for you. i have heard that you have
said to them that their souls are as good as ours, and that it is
likely that in another life they may stand as high as the oldest
blood of auvergne. for my part, i believe that there are so many
worthy knights and gallant gentlemen in heaven who know how such
things should be arranged, that there is little fear that we
shall find ourselves mixed up with base roturiers and swine-
herds. tell your beads, father, and con your psalter, but do not
come between me and those whom the king has given to me!"
"god help them!" cried the old priest. "a higher king than yours
has given them to me, and i tell you here in your own castle
hall, sir tristram de rochefort, that you have sinned deeply in
your dealings with these poor folk, and that the hour will come,
and may even now be at hand, when god's hand will be heavy upon
you for what you have done." he rose as he spoke, and walked
slowly from the room.
"pest take him!" cried the french knight. "now, what is a man to
do with a priest, sir bertrand?--for one can neither fight him
like a man nor coax him like a woman."
"ah, sir bertrand knows, the naughty one!" cried the lady
rochefort. "have we not all heard how he went to avignon and
squeezed fifty thousand crowns out of the pope."
"ma foi!" said sir nigel, looking with a mixture of horror and
admiration at du guesclin. "did not your heart sink within you?
were you not smitten with fears? have you not felt a curse hang
over you?"
"i have not observed it," said the frenchman carelessly. "but by
saint ives! tristram, this chaplain of yours seems to me to be a
worthy man, and you should give heed to his words, for though i
care nothing for the curse of a bad pope, it would be a grief to
me to have aught but a blessing from a good priest."
"hark to that, my fair lord," cried the lady rochefort. "take
heed, i pray thee, for i do not wish to have a blight cast over
me, nor a palsy of the limbs. i remember that once before you
angered father stephen, and my tire-woman said that i lost more
hair in seven days than ever before in a month."
"if that be sign of sin, then, by saint paul! i have much upon
my soul," said sir nigel, amid a general laugh. "but in very
truth, sir tristram, if i may venture a word of counsel, i should
advise that you make your peace with this good man."
"he shall have four silver candlesticks," said the seneschal
moodily. "and yet i would that he would leave the folk alone.
you cannot conceive in your mind how stubborn and brainless they
are. mules and pigs are full of reason beside them. god he
knows that i have had great patience with them. it was but last
week that, having to raise some money, i called up to the castle
jean goubert, who, as all men know, has a casketful of gold
pieces hidden away in some hollow tree. i give you my word that
i did not so much as lay a stripe upon his fool's back, but after
speaking with him, and telling him how needful the money was to
me, i left him for the night to think over the matter in my
dungeon. what think you that the dog did? why, in the morning
we found that he had made a rope from strips of his leathern
jerkin, and had hung himself to the bar of the window."
"for me, i cannot conceive such wickedness!" cried the lady.
"and there was gertrude le boeuf, as fair a maiden as eye could
see, but as bad and bitter as the rest of them. when young amory
de valance was here last lammastide he looked kindly upon the
girl, and even spoke of taking her into his service. what does
she do, with her dog of a father? why, they tie themselves
together and leap into the linden pool, where the water is five
spears'-lengths deep. i give you my word that it was a great
grief to young amory,
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