"If there is anything else--"
Her figure straightened. "Why do you hate him so?" she asked pa.s.sionately. "You have hastened their trial, and would carry out the sentence before there is time for justice. And the man whom that day you ordered whipped from the Mount--after letting me think him safe!
After all that his master did for me! Why was he lashed? Because of him he served or of the old Seigneur before that? I heard you ask about him--of his having gone to America? Why did you care about that?"
"You seem to have listened to a great deal!"
[Ill.u.s.tration: "You seem to have listened to a great deal."]
"And why did he go to America?" she went on, unheeding. "Did you hate him, too? What for?"
"If you have nothing else to talk about--" He glanced at the door.
"And the lands!" she said. "They were his; now they are yours--"
"Unjustly, perhaps _you_ think."
"No, no!" she cried. "I didn"t mean--I didn"t imply that. Of course not! Only," putting out her hands, "I try to understand, and--you have never taken me into your confidence, _mon pere_! You have been indulgent; denied me nothing, but--I don"t want to feel the way I have felt the last week, as if--" quickly she stopped. "No doubt there are reasons--although I have puzzled; and if I knew! Can"t you," abruptly, "treat me as one worthy of your confidence?"
"You!" he said with quiet irony. "Who--_listen_!"
The girl flushed. "I had to, because--"
"And who misrepresent facts, as in the case of--Saladin!"
"But--"
"How long," standing over her, "were you on the island?"
"I--don"t know!"
"You don"t?" His voice implied disbelief.
"Part of the time I was unconscious--"
"In the watch-tower with him!"
She made a gesture. "Would you rather--"
"What did he say?"
The girl"s eyes, that had been so steadfast, on a sudden wavered.
"Nothing--much."
"And you? Nothing, too? Then how was the deception devised--the pact entered into--"
Her figure stiffened. "There was no pact."
"Treason, then? The law holds it treason to--"
"You are cruel; unjust!" she cried. "To me, as you were to him. That old man you had whipped! I wonder," impetuously, "if you are so to all of them, the people, the peasants. And if that is the reason they have only black looks for me--and hatred? As if they would like to curse us!"
He turned away. "I am very busy."
"_Mon pere_!"
He walked to the door.
"Then you won"t--won"t spare them?"
He opened wide the door. Still she did not move, until the sight of the commandant without, the curious glance he cast in their direction, decided her. Drawing herself up, she walked toward the threshold, and, bowing perfunctorily, with head held high, crossed it.
CHAPTER XV
THE VOICE FROM THE GROUP
"No one from the household is allowed through without an order!"
"You will, however, let me pa.s.s."
"Because you have a pretty face?" The sentinel at the great gate separating the upper part of the Mount from the town, answered roughly.
"Not you, my girl, or--"
But she who importuned raised the sides of the ample linen head-dress and revealed fully her countenance.
"My Lady!" Half convinced, half incredulous, the soldier looked; stared; at features, familiar, yet seeming different, with the rebellious golden hair smoothed down severely above; the figure garbed in a Norman peasant dress, made for a costume dance when the n.o.bles and court ladies had visited the Mount.
"You do not doubt who I am?" Imperiously regarding him.
"No, my Lady; only--"
"Then open the gate!" she commanded.
The man pushed back the ponderous bolts; pressed outward the ma.s.s of oak and iron, and, puzzled, surprised, watched the girl slip through.
Of course it was none of his affair, my lady"s caprice, and if she chose to go masquerading among the people on such a day, when all the idle vagabonds made pretext to visit the Mount, her right to do so remained unquestioned; but, as he closed the heavy door, he shook his head. Think of the risk! Who knew what might happen in the event of her ident.i.ty being revealed to certain of those in that heterogeneous concourse without? Even at the moment through an aperture for observation in the framework to which he repaired upon adjusting the fastenings, he could see approaching a procession of noisy fanatics.
The apprehension of the soldier was, however, not shared by the girl, who, glad she had found a means to get away from the chilling atmosphere of her own world, experienced now only a sense of freedom and relief. In her tense mood, the din--the shouting and unwonted sounds--were not calculated to alarm; on the contrary, after the oppressive stillness in the great halls and chambers of the summit, they seemed welcome. Her pulses throbbed and her face still burned with the remembrance of the interview with her father, as she eyed unseeingly the approaching band, led by censer- and banner-bearers.
"_Vierge notre esperance--_" Caught up as they swept along, she found herself without warning suddenly a part of that human stream. A natural desire to get clear from the mult.i.tude led her at first to struggle, but as well contend with the inevitable. Faces fierce, half-crazed, encompa.s.sed her; eyes that looked starved, spiritually and physically, gleamed on every side. Held as in a vise, she soon ceased to resist; suddenly deposited on a ledge, like a sh.e.l.l tossed up from the sea, she next became aware she was looking up toward a temporary altar, garish with bright colors.
"_Etends sur nous--_" Louder rose the voices; more uncontrollable became the demeanor of the people, and quickly, before the unveiling of the sacred relics had completely maddened them, she managed to extricate herself from the kneeling or prostrate throng; breathless, she fled the vicinity.
Down, down! Into the heart of the village; through tortuous footpaths, where the pandering, not pietistic, element held sway; where, instead of shrines and altars, had been erected booths and stands before which vendors of nondescript viands or poor trumpery vented their loquacity on the pilgrims:
"All hot! All hot!"