The bride of a month before tended them with feverish a.s.siduity, refusing rest and food, dreading that time for thought should force her to yield belief to the tidings they all brought--that she was a widow.
When evening came, Sir Alain de Gourin demanded another audience, at which he appeared alone, averring that Sir Hoel could not leave the direction of the defence at the same time as himself.
He faced the countess doggedly, with a defiant gleam in his bulging blue eyes which she did not find it pleasant to meet. His cheeks were more purple than ever, and it seemed to Emma that his red moustache almost quivered with flame, while his brawny figure was adorned with an unusual display of finery, the flashing jewels on his baldric attracting her eyes even in that moment of distress.
He urged that what had seemed a doubtful rumour in the morning had become certain news by night, since fugitive after fugitive had confirmed the tidings first brought by Stephen le Hareau, and begged her once more to think of her own safety, and allow himself and his trusty Bretons to escort her to Bretagne.
"Is it but to repeat to mine ears the idle plaints of these runaways that thou hast summoned me to solemn conclave, good knight? My answer of the morning stands."
She broke into a laugh that was low and silvery enough, but which caused even the thick-skinned mercenary to shiver, and she would have swept from the room, but, recovering himself, De Gourin stepped forward, and, laying his mailed hand on her arm, detained her.
"By the Rood!" he exclaimed, "thou shalt not go! Thou alone in all this castle dost refuse to believe the inevitable. I tell thee, knights of my following, whose word is sacred as my own, saw Ralph de Guader struck down by the mace of Odo of Bayeux; none could live after such a blow, were his harness sevenfold thick! Besides, the press of battle was upon the spot where he fell, and the feet of the horses must have achieved what Odo began, if his mace completed it not."
Eadgyth, who attended the countess, uttered a scream of horror, and endeavoured to stop his speech. "Wouldst thou kill her?" she cried.
Emma shook herself free from his grasp, and faced him with flashing eyes of scorn.
"By the ma.s.s, n.o.ble lady, pardon me! I would have spared thee these rude details, but perforce I must have thee comprehend."
"If the earl indeed be perished," said Emma bitterly, "life will not be so sweet to me that I should take such care to save it. Save thyself and thy Bretons if thou wilt. If ye go, there will be less to man the walls, but fewer mouths to feed."
The last words were uttered with a careless contempt that was absolutely sublime, and the bl.u.s.tering mercenary no longer ventured to detain her.
"Certes, the donzelle is mad!" he a.s.serted, with a round oath, when she had left the chamber, for her absolute refusal to leave Blauncheflour had thrown to the winds his plan for becoming her second husband, and becoming lord of her fair manors.
Outside the chamber door Emma turned to her loving bower-maiden like a creature of the woods at bay. Eadgyth"s sympathy was more dreadful to her than the Breton"s brutal frankness. "I would be alone, Eadgyth. I am going to the oratory," she forced her white lips to murmur, and almost fled from her side down the circling stairway.
Eadgyth followed at a distance, and, when Emma had disappeared within the sacred portal, threw herself prostrate at the threshold, like a faithful hound, as she had thrown herself at the door of the council-chamber in the morning.
Emma, alone at last, knelt before the shrine of the Virgin. She chose that rather than the one dedicated to St. Nicholas, for it seemed to her in her anguish that her husband"s patron saint had forsaken his votaries in their distress.
The grief she had so long held at bay shook her from head to foot with a long quivering sob that held her speechless, and almost stopped her breath. She stretched out her arms in mute supplication to Heaven.
Scalding tears formed slowly in her eyes, and rolled one by one down her bloodless cheeks.
Then a fresh gust of agony shook her like a leaf. "Ah, _Dieu merci_!"
she moaned; "the horses! the horses! They achieved if Odo failed, he said! Oh, Christ! it cannot be! That dear head that has pillowed on my bosom!"
Quivering and shuddering, she sank upon the cold flags of the floor.
The grey light of morning creeping through the narrow oriel found her still there.
"Oh, countess! sweet countess! one waits without who will not deliver his message to any but thee, and _he bears the earl"s signet_!"
Eadgyth was in the oratory, bending over the stiffened form of the unhappy Chatelaine of Blauncheflour.
Emma pa.s.sed her hands across her brow in blank bewilderment, and Eadgyth cried to her again.
"Oh, Heaven be praised!" cried Emma, a great light of joy springing into her eyes; and, rising from her knees, "Where is he? where is he?"
she asked. "Take me to him without delay. What manner of man is this whose advent doth so raise my hopes? The earl"s signet, sayest thou?"
"He wears a Danish helm, and looks as if he had travelled over land and through water," said Eadgyth. "Our Lady and good St. Nicholas grant that our hopes be well founded!"
"Fetch me my golden torc, which was my wedding gift from the false Waltheof," said Emma; "I will meet this Dane as one who knows somewhat of his race."
She went to her chamber to wash away the signs of her night"s vigil from her cheeks, and, when her hasty toilette was made, Eadgyth saw with surprise the change in her: hope had brought back the bloom to her cheek and the elasticity to her step, and she looked well fit to be the bride of one who aspired to the third of a kingdom for his earldom.
She swept from the lodge to the great tower, and entered the council-chamber, where Sir Hoel and Sir Alain awaited her, curious enough to know the contents of the missive guarded by the fair-haired, long-limbed Dane with such jealous care, Sir Alain eyeing him as he stood before them with no very gracious countenance.
When Emma came into the room, the Dane saluted her profoundly, his tow-coloured locks almost touching his knee, and his formidable double-edged axe rattling on the floor as he bent; then he put into the hands of the countess a packet tied with a slender silken cord.
Emma started with joy, for her quick eyes noted the many joins in that silken cord, and recognised it as composed of the fringe with which Ralph"s surcoat had been decked.
The Dane then drew from his finger a ring, and handed it to her, and, truly enough, it was De Guader"s signet.
Emma"s fingers trembled so violently that she could scarce read the superscripture, endorsed with a clerkly scroll,--
"To the fair hands of Emma de Guader, Castellan of our Castell of Blauncheflour in Norowic."
She drew the little _misericorde_ at her girdle and severed the silk.
"Bid the chaplain hither," she said, for in truth she had little learning, and her literary attainments did not extend far beyond the reading of her own name; notwithstanding which, her eyes questioned eagerly the fairly illumined page before her, which was the work of the monk who has been mentioned as sitting by the hearth of Ealdred G.o.dwinsson in his Fenland refuge, for the earl"s clerkly skill was little greater than that of his wife.
Impatiently she awaited the coming of the chaplain, and, when he came, thrust the cherished parchment into his hand, and followed his reading, word by word, with hungry avidity.
"Fair and dear Lady and Countess," said the missive, "ill news has thy unfortunate knight wherewith to vex thine heart. The battle went against me. By little less than a miracle was my life, dear for thy sweet sake, preserved to me. A long story which some day I yet hope to relate to thee. I am sore wounded, but not dangerously"--
"The holy saints be praised!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sir Hoel fervently.
"Ay!--the holy saints be praised!, echoed Sir Alain, with somewhat halting zeal, for this resuscitated earl put an end to all his schemes.
"Therefore," resumed the chaplain, continuing his reading, "vex not thyself with fears. But for my wounds only, I had been with thee by now, but could not mount steed or _hacquenee_. The messenger will tell thee my retreat, and the plan by which I yet hope to prevail, and to win fame for thee. Defend my Castell of Blauncheflour, sweet my Castellan, and, by the aid of good St. Nicholas, I will come back to thee at the head of such an host as will put all our foes to rout. I count the daies till I see thee again. The Blessed Virgin have thee in her keeping.
"These from thy leal and loving husband,
"RALPH DE GUADER AND MONTFORT,
"Earl of Norfolk and Suffolk."
The missive was signed by the earl"s own hand, and sealed with his wedding ring, on which was graven the cognisance of Hereford.
"Ah, fair sirs," cried Emma exultingly, looking, however, at Sir Alain, and with contemptuous defiance in her flashing eyes, "ye see the instinct of the true wife was more trustworthy than the eye-witness of belted knights! Let us charitably suppose that their poor heads were somewhat fl.u.s.tered with the hurly-burly of battle. Methinks they were over quick to believe their leader slain."
Then, turning to the messenger, she questioned him regarding the battle and the retreat, and the manner of the earl"s escape; and heard the story we already know of Grillonne"s ready wit, and the refuge in the fens.
The Dane was one of those who had helped to carry the wounded earl, and had been chosen as a messenger because he was trustworthy, renowned as a swift runner, and could carry messages of importance to such Danish seamen as might be with their vessels at Norwich for trading purposes, besides his message to the countess. Dependence had not been placed on him alone; other messengers had been despatched from the Fenland camp, in case he fell into the hands of the enemy, but he had outstripped his compet.i.tors.
He said that the earl had desired to return to Norwich, but had been overpersuaded by those about him that it would be a wiser course to take ship at Wells by the sea, which he could do privily by aid of Ealdred G.o.dwinsson, and those over whom the thegn had influence. So it was agreed that the earl should make sail for Denmark, where, without doubt, he would be n.o.bly welcomed by King Sweyn, who had already promised him men and vessels. From thence he would go with all speed to Bretagne, and arm his retainers, and gather all help he might among the Breton n.o.bles; and with the host thus gathered would haste to the relief of Blauncheflour, which would thus be rendered sure and certain.