CHAPTER XIV

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THE LEGEND OF THE POOL.

"... The legend tells how sad The shepherd left his flock to watch the mere; And how at times his grief grew wild, and glad He hail'd the star which tells that day is near; But ne'er to him his love did reappear. Yet some aver, when dawn begins to break On one, the longest day of all the year, A breathing's-space, the maid, for old love's sake, Doth raise her golden locks above the gloomy lake." --JOHN JERVIS BERESFORD.

The gay-hearted Lady Rosamond greeted her old friend and his young charge on the following day with much enthusiasm, welcoming Primrose heartily as her guest, and herself leading her to her chamber, remarking as she did so, that she hated ever to have servants at her heels, and intended to wait upon so fair a maiden with her own hands. "For which I doubt not I shall presently suffer the wrath of my liege lord," she said with a gay laugh; "for he would have me so surrounded with my minions, for fear that I should in any wise overtax my strength, that I can at times scarce move a finger without their help! For my own part, I love greater freedom, and care not for my maidens' assiduities, wherefore my lord and I often come to high words, I do assure you, sweet Primrose, and you must e'en be prepared to keep the peace betwixt us, an you would not see blows exchanged betimes. You laugh, girl, and believe me not? Ah, well! I will not wish you a better consort than my own, for I were scarce so wild and wayward, I promise you, an he did not spoil me so! This, let me warn you, is King Arthur's own chamber, in which you shall take your rest right royally. Should his spirit haunt you in the night-time, you will not be afraid?" "That I dare not promise," answered Primrose, "for I have never yet chanced to see a ghost, and since they are fearsome things, I cannot tell how I might bear the sight. But I need scarce fear the shade of King Arthur, having ever held him in such admiration that he would not have the heart to harm me!" "Nay, then, the chamber is not really haunted," said Lady Rosamond, laughing; "and nought but the holy face of Sir Galahad shall visit your dreams, I promise you. You have never yet seen my Sir Galahad, have you?" "Never," replied Primrose, "for during his last visit to these parts, of which we heard rumours at Christmas-tide, he did not vouchsafe to offer his services either to Master Rhys or to any of our near neighbours, and his first visit of all was during my stay with the Lady Bryn Afon, so that I have never yet had the opportunity of listening to his masterful lectures. It is true, is it not, that he is already chosen by our Lord Bryn Afon to be his chaplain after his ordination?" "Yes, he is so honoured, if honour it be," answered Lady Rosamond; "but he has yet over a year to wait ere he is of age for the taking of Holy Orders, and beyond that a couple more years of self-imposed waiting. I warrant you I spare him not for his presumption in opening his mouth in public ere he is of sufficient age and discretion to enter the pulpit! And that, as you see, he has no mind to enter yet awhile, since he has made this fixed resolve not to seek ordination before the age of five-and-twenty, in order (as I must suppose) that he may, after two added years of study, wield yet more weighty weapons of learning and oratory! He is verily a Quixotic youth, but my husband and I regard him with an unbounded admiration, and shall grudge to relinquish him to our neighbours of Bryn Afon, since we at present enjoy his company some two or three times in a year. You must know that his course at Cambridge is now completed, and he has this past Easter-tide taken his degree with splendid honours, which have driven him forth to hide awhile his blushing countenance abroad, in company with his bosom friend, Master Jeremy Taylor, who has likewise marvellously well acquitted himself. After the vacation is ended they will grace the sister University with their talents, having both had Fellowships at the College of All Souls, in the city of Oxford, conferred upon them in reward for their labours. Greatly rejoiced are they, I warrant you, at so pleasing an opportunity for continuation of their mutual study and delight in one another's society! Our neighbour, the Earl of Carbery, across the river, is vastly taken with young Master Taylor, but he is scarce likely to bury himself in a Welsh chaplaincy or remote town hereabouts, having before him excellent prospects of preferment in England. The eye of Archbishop Laud is said to be upon him, and I doubt not he will make his mark in the Church one day, as might my friend Percival Vere likewise do easily enough, but that I fear neither eye of king or archbishop hath power to stir within him aught of earthly ambition, his whole soul being given to the saving of us all from the bitter fate of the drunkard! Ah, well, he will find a stauncher supporter of his strange theories in Lady Bryn Afon than in me, and indeed, were I in her place, I might see greater cause to agree with him." "How so?" asked Primrose wonderingly. "He that must needs shoot does well to find a high mark for his arrows, child," said Lady Rosamond; "and our apostle of temperance will find such a mark easily enough, I promise you. But this is idle talk, to pass no further than betwixt us two. Come, I hear the gong sound for our midday meal, and my lord will chide me if I tarry." And like some gay butterfly she fluttered off to the banqueting-hall, her arm round Primrose's waist, greeting her husband in the doorway with a hearty embrace before presenting to him her blushing young guest, who hung back somewhat shyly at the sight of the grave, stately Sir Ivor, whom she had never before seen. "Now I beg of you, Shanno," exclaimed Lady Rosamond, "to stand in no awe of my husband! He has truly a grave and almost reverend exterior, but within he has a kind heart; and since he has these many years tolerated my wiles with a good grace, you may know he is scarce so terrible as he appears!" Whereupon Primrose could but laugh heartily, while the grave muscles of Sir Ivor's face relaxed, and he joined in the laugh against himself, with perfect understanding of his wife's gay speeches. And after a few kind words from him, Primrose grew quite at her ease, and the meal passed merrily enough, the earl telling many interesting tales of the old castles, legends of King Arthur, and more recent stories of the part Caer Caradoc had played in the old warfare between Wales and England, and of marvellous escapes made in such times by means of the wonderful subterranean passage into which he offered to take her one day, on condition that his wife would prove her affection for him by accompanying them. ''Tis a hard trial of my constancy!" said Lady Rosamond, shivering with mock terror. "I will make no rash promises. Perchance before fair Shanno leaves us she may instil more strength into my poor weak soul than it can as yet boast; but if not, she shall not go without me, for never shall it be said of your wife that she suffered a hapless maiden to be lured into the deeps of the earth to her destruction! So, Primrose, you must needs rouse me to a greater height of courage than now, or make up your mind not to hazard your life in such an abyss of darkness." "I am not sure if I have courage enough of my own," said Primrose; "but I would dearly like to explore the passage, and would trust that the bravery of Sir Ivor might avail for us all. Think you, dear Master Rhys, that my guardian would forbid me to go in company with others?" "Nay, I think not so," answered the vicar, "for you will be safe enough in Sir Ivor's keeping, since I know him to have been acquainted from boyhood with every twist and turn in the tunnel. I would like well enough to accompany you myself, but that my old bones are too venerable for such stooping and rattling over loose stones in darkness!" "No such penance shall be enforced upon you, dear friend," said Lady Rosamond. "We will engage ourselves this forenoon with pastimes less fatiguing to our limbs and nerves, and leave this expedition until some day when you are no longer with us. Come, Primrose, we will walk in the garden awhile, and you, dear friend, will find us there anon, should you be disposed to come and see my summer blossoms. Meanwhile we will leave you to the tender mercies of my liege lord, who will weary you with discussion of king and parliament while we turn our attention to lighter matters."

Primrose found that time by no means hung heavily upon her hands in the society of her cheerful hostess, and the days passed gaily enough within the grim old castle walls. Each day she rode out with Lady Rosamond and Sir Ivor, exploring the beautiful country in many directions hitherto unknown to her, visiting with them other ancient castles and venerable mansions, which vied with Caer Caradoc in rugged stateliness and historic interest; and even penetrating one day far up into the wild Craig Aran range, where hill after hill rolled away in soft shadow or purple darkness, and green valleys broke away on every side, clothed with woods in all the soft freshness of their mid-summer beauty, while far ahead loomed the rocky Peak, which formed the summit of the ridge, towering giant-like above the softer and more rounded hills below, and shelving steeply down to the mysterious Pool at its base--a silent sheet of black water, shut in on three sides by the steep walls of the mountain-top, where there ever reigned a wonderful silence, broken only by some distant sheep-bell, or call of shepherd-boy or cowherd on the plain. "About a mile or so from yon Peak," said Lady Rosamond, "there stands a lone farmstead, which the Lady Bryn Afon loves to frequent in the summer-time. It is a desolate spot, far removed from the nearest village, and even from other farms or cottages, but it charmed her long since by its romantic situation and the beautiful scenery around, and she loves to pass some quiet weeks now and again within its walls, at such times as her lord is detained unusually long about the Court. For my part, I should mope my life away in such a region, with none but a curious old farm-woman and her family, who speak not one word of English, for my company! But the Lady Bryn Afon has so great a love for this barbarous tongue of ours, and is moreover so solitary a spirit, that, as I say, it is her delight to bury herself there when she may. There is a marvellous legend of some fair maiden, who appears on Midsummer Eve from out the lake, and wanders round its shores. I know not the precise story, but Master Rhys Prichard, at whose house we shall tarry awhile on our way homewards for refreshment and an hour's pleasant converse, will repeat it for you, for he is learned in all our mystic lore beyond most men. Ah, Primrose, I have a thought! We will come and watch for her, you and I, next Midsummer Eve, an we are alive! I have longed many a time to prove for myself the truth of the tale, and you must perforce behold the enchanted spot ere many more years roll over your head, else your education as a good Welsh maiden will scarce be completed. Alas, that the thought did not come to me a week since! then could we have cajoled my lord into a charming midnight excursion this Midsummer Eve just passed." "I would dearly love to go!" said Primrose, her eyes shining with excitement. "I know the tale well, and dad has often said he would do his best to take me some day to see the magic lady; but he is old, and would be over-much wearied by the journey, besides that we should scarce know ourselves how to accomplish it. It would indeed be delightful, an I might next year go with you! Or even, if we could not go by night to see the fairy maiden, it would be joy enough to see the old farmhouse and the wonderful lakes, and to climb the Peak and look upon the world from the top of the mountain!" "You shall see it all, child," said Lady Rosamond; "and we will certainly see the supernatural as well as the beauties of nature! Should it fail us, I will e'en write forthwith a treatise in contradiction of the legend, and all other tales of equally lying folly! Tell me the tale then. I forgot that you were e'en such a student that for book-lore I must blush for very shame in your presence!" Whereupon Primrose related the story, which ran as follows:--

"In days of yore there dwelt in the valley beneath the shadow of the lofty Craig Aran the widow of a peasant and her only son, whose only riches were their flocks and herds, over which the youth watched tenderly from day to day on the lonely mountain-side. For the sake of his own fair countenance, as well as for the sake of a share in those goodly herds, the young man's hand was greatly craved in marriage by many a loving mother in the country-side for her fair daughters, but on none of these comely maidens did he look with favour, being ever occupied with daydreams of an ideal maiden, so wondrous fair that none yet seen might bear compare with her.

"One day it fell that as his eyes were fixed in deep thought upon the glassy surface of the lake, which lies so still beneath yon Peak, he beheld a herd of white oxen rise from the water, driven by a swan, which, as he gazed, grew into a lovely maiden, with eyes as blue as the sky and as bright as the stars, and gleaming golden hair, which clothed her like a beauteous outer raiment almost to her feet. His heart, long untouched by mortal maiden, melted within him at the fair vision, more fair, in sooth, than all his dreams, and, stretching out his arms towards her in deep yearning, he offered her of his bread. But with a smile she glided from his clasp and vanished, laughing, beneath the wave. A second day he came, and once more the beautiful vision appeared to his longing eyes, and he again offered her his bread to eat, but she vanished from sight as before, so that he went home sadly, and pined for days in secret, till, no longer able to bear alone his woe, he confessed to his mother the strange tale and the love he bore the magic maiden. She bade him seek his love yet once again, and on the eve of Midsummer Day he trod in trembling the lonely path up the mountain-side, and lay till midnight on the shore of the black lake, consumed with impatient longing for the fair vision. At last to his wondering gaze there appeared upon the dark surface of the water a slice of magic milk-white bread, of which, as it drew near to his outstretched hand, he partook, kneeling reverently upon the bare earth the while. Then once more the phantom herd glided forth to land, driven by the wondrous maiden, who, rowing swiftly in her golden shallop to the shore, cast herself with joyful cry into his longing arms, and together they partook of what remained of the magic bread, and confessed their mutual love on the lake's dark brink, ere he led her homewards. So, through the eating of this wondrous bread, their souls were knit in one, and she became his loving bride, promising all wifely love and obedience, with this warning only, that since she, an immortal maiden, was thus wed to mortal man, he must needs ever bear in mind, that should he in all the course of their life together e'er chance three times to strike her, she and her fair herds must return at once to their own people. Some years they dwelt together ere any shadow crossed their path; fair children were born to them, and their flocks and herds multiplied exceedingly; but one day, while they were still in the flower of youth, they were bidden to a christening, and he, finding that she lingered awhile, not greatly moved on account of her own primeval faith to witness the ceremony, struck her in play upon the shoulder, chiding her for her tardiness; whereupon she bade him beware, and ever bear in mind that he had once done the forbidden deed. Long after, at a wedding-feast, her far-seeing soul warned her of great sorrow in store for the newly-married pair; she wept bitterly, and once again her husband, lightly chiding her for thus marring the feast with her tears, touched her arm in gentle reproof, and once again in solemn warning she bade him beware. After many years again, they were bidden to a funeral, and she, knowing well the happiness of the holy departed, could not forbear to laugh softly to herself as she mused thereon. Her husband, grieved that any should think her light-hearted in the midst of woe, again tapped her gently on the shoulder, whereupon her mirth suddenly ceased, and she grew still as death. Then, rising quickly, she bade him farewell in great sorrow of heart and was gone, and he watching her, horror-struck, depart, beheld her vanish from his sight, not in the guise of his long-wedded wife, but in the fairy form of the golden-haired maiden of old. Alone she wended her way to the solitary hills, calling her cattle around her, and in long procession they followed her to the lake, in which they disappeared. Her husband, broken-hearted, ne'er trod again the shores of the mysterious lake, but her sons watched oft for her, and one day saw at last the maiden in her shallop of gold appear on the surface, but they saw in her no similitude of their aged mother, and turned away weeping. Then a voice drew them back suddenly, and turning once more to the lake they beheld with joy their beloved mother, who spake lovingly with them, promising to teach them wondrous lore of herbs and plants, that they should heal their neighbours and become wise in all physicians' learning; and also she promised ever to be with them in their work, sustaining them by her magic presence. So day by day her sons went to cull simples on the mountain-side at eventide, and in time waxed wondrous wise, and worked cures which made their names famous throughout the country-side. They also had lands given them, and lived to a great old age in peace and plenty, and in doing good to their neighbours. And the shepherds, keeping their flocks on the mountains, were wont to hear a voice speaking with these learned brothers as they culled their herbs in the 'Physicians' Dingle,' and sometimes there they even saw at their side a radiant form.

"And there have never been wanting in any age since the time when this wonderful thing befell, wise and marvellously learned physicians in the valleys below Craig Aran, who could trace their descent from the mystic maiden who wedded the young shepherd of Glyn Melen, and even at this very day there is said to be one at least remaining of those skilled medicine-men, though none in our valley can tell where he may be seen."

"A charming legend truly!" exclaimed Lady Rosamond, "and right well told. Shame upon me to have presumed to live thus long without acquainting myself with so pretty a tale, save in such shreds and scattered fragments as my maids have at times let fall! Well, look you, sweet Primrose, should we both be alive at this same time next year, nothing shall content me but Sir Ivor shall perforce convey us both on Midsummer Eve to yon farmhouse of Glyn Melen, where we will obtain a night's lodging, stealing forth at midnight to prove the truth of your tale. And should it prove false, I bid you beware of my lord's vengeance, for I shall hardly persuade him to undertake such a fool's errand, such scorn thinks he of all 'old wives' fables,' as he must needs call them! And should we drag him forth at dead of night for nought, I tremble even now to think what satire we must endure at his hands, and for very shame and fear I shall lay all the blame on you, I promise you!" "I will bear willingly your share and my own likewise," answered Primrose eagerly, "an you can but prevail upon Sir Ivor to grant your request; an the fairy maiden will not rise at our bidding, we shall yet have seen enough to make his wrath well worth enduring, for the scenery by night will be grand enough to repay us, and we would have right good fun, I doubt not." "Well, it is a bargain," said Lady Rosamond. "An you can prevail upon your good foster-father to entrust you again to my keeping, with as much ease as I shall cajole my liege lord into accompanying us, 'twill be arranged without great trouble! You will not believe it, fair Shanno, of one so grave and stately, but I have but to put my arms round his neck and whisper in his ear, and I might ask for a kingdom! I wish you may have as good a husband as mine! I marvel at times to think you are not already wed. So fair as you are, you must needs ere now have made havoc of many hearts!" "I trust not," said Primrose, with a blush. "That would seem to me but a sorry ambition; and must that be the forfeit poor men must needs pay for looking on my face, I would fain dwell unseen in the valley, as now, all my days!" "Fie, thou art over serious, child," said Lady Rosamond with a laugh. "An aching heart is the forfeit men must ever pay to beauty such as yours! You will get used to the thought in time, I warrant you. Confess now; have you never yet set one aching, to the best of your knowledge?" "I know of none," answered Primrose demurely. "Truly there were some three or four stalwart youths from the farms near by, who awhile ago would pass me on the bridge, and sigh, and clasp their hand to their heart as they went by, and who moreover were bold enough to ask my hand--not of me, for that they dare not!--but of my foster-father; but methinks I need feel no sorrow on their behalf, since they have all since repented of their folly, and married sweethearts of their own way of life. And as for others, why, I have lived in too great solitude to see them, besides that my mind is ever too filled with thoughts of my mother, to have room in it for marriage. I would fain find her first, and learn who I rightly am, and why she has so strangely dealt with me, ere I dream too much of lovers and weddings." "You are a wise and dutiful daughter, sweet one," said Lady Rosamond caressingly, "and I wish for you none other than the best of mothers, and the happiest of lives. Yet since Heaven has blessed me with so good and true a husband, I can but wish for you that you may some day meet with such another! It is good to have a partner of all one's joys and sorrows, and a brave companion ever at hand, whom one may plague to one's heart's content! Think you not my lord and I are a pattern couple?" "Methinks you are a truly happy one," said Primrose softly; "and I think no scorn of married life, for all I am in no haste to enter upon it, for it must surely be the most beautiful life to live, if God so wills it. Yet since it is a life which so many seem to mar with great miseries, I would fain never enter upon it at all than miss its beauty, as they." "Beware lest you ever shine, a solitary star, in a dark sky of your own making!" said Lady Rosamond, holding up a warning finger. "It is thus that I threaten young Percival Vere, who while chivalrous as any gallant knight of old towards our sex, must needs, like the shepherd of your tale, hold such particular virtues and graces to be needful for his own ideal maiden, that 'tis scarce in any mortal damsel he will find them! Methinks I had best counsel him likewise to visit yon Pool some day at midnight's witching hour, for it would be but fair to give him such a fine chance of wooing an immortal maiden, since he will scarce e'er find any one of her earthly sisters to his choice! Nay, I will cease my foolish chatter, dear heart, since it brings such blushes to your fair cheeks. I will e'en leave both you and our 'lily-knight'--for so you must know they call him at Christ's College--to soar to your mountain-tops an you will. I do verily suppose the atmosphere of such heights, being nearer Heaven, must needs be purer and clearer than what we more earthly beings are privileged to breathe below, and I grudge you not your soaring, since it hath so charming effect. Now blush not, girl! Why, verily, your face is like a weather-glass! Does no one then ever tell you of all your charms? I knew my own, at your age, well enough, I promise you, and had I then so fair a rival, could have died of envy!" "Ah, talk not so!" said Primrose. "You think not how you may turn my poor head with such idle talk. And if you lived in our hamlet, with Master Jones ever at your elbow to warn you of the evil of setting too high a price upon your perishing beauty, you would not wantonly strive to stir up my vanity. I would you could see Master Jones and hear him discourse! But I fear me he would be so over-much shocked at your levity, that he would be struck dumb, and but roll the whites of his eyes in silence, thus----" "Fie, Primrose!" said her friend with a laugh, "so to mock the good man! Ah, it is he of whom dear Master Rhys told me, who upbraids you for study of the _Morte d' Arthur_ and the Faery Queene, and the good old _Tales_ of Master Chaucer. Speaking of King Arthur, do you know that my Sir Galahad, who, as I told you, is of Welsh birth on his mother's side, is descended from none other than Ap Gryffyth himself, our last luckless king, of whose lost crown he is the rightful heir, and whose head was hung up on the gates of Carnarvon by our hated conqueror, the first Edward of England? I tell you I do so regard the youth, that I would fain go a-fighting to regain his crown and kingdom for him, an he had left in his recreant bosom but one spark of loyalty to his dead relative wherewith to encourage me! You and I would lead a rebellion, Primrose, and Caer Caradoc should be stormed by King Charles's armies, and we would smuggle away the young Ap Gryffyth through the secret passage. You should save him, and he would marry you out of gratitude, and make you Queen of Wales! There is a sweet romance for you! The only drawback is that the youth is a miscreant wretch, having but a romantic love for his royal ancestor, and a poetic pity for his hapless fate, while from his English father he has imbibed so strong a spirit of loyalty to the English nation and the House of Stuart, that he will die for King Charles sooner than aid us in our noble scheme! Well, never mind. My husband is ever telling me that I am full to the brim of misdirected energy, but better that, say I, than none at all!" "Since your ladyship is so keen on war and bloodshed," said Primrose, "your courage must surely not fail at the prospect of entering the secret passage! Have you forgot Sir Ivor's promise? And to-morrow is my last day in your company." "I would fight bravely in open daylight," said Lady Rosamond valiantly, "yet my proud spirit quails in the dark like that of any frightened child! Man, I tell you, child, and still less woman, was not made to crawl on all-fours for miles, by the light of a solitary candle, which, on the verge of the bottomless well is sure to be extinguished by some satyr's breath below, precipitating us to unknown depths of darkness! Such places are relics of barbarous times, when efts and pixies dwelt in the land. Yet sooner than be outdone by a girl like you, I will e'en adventure myself into the passage! Long ago I would have done so, save that in me the curiosity of my sex is ever so evenly balanced with sloth and laziness that I am willing enough to forego knowledge of that which gives me trouble. So it was with me as a child, whence my present ignorance on divers subjects, fragments of which were but driven in upon the surface of the brain with cuff and blow. Ah well! I will go, as spoke my lord and master, to 'prove my love for him;' then, should I perish, I shall at any rate feel a martyr's consolation."

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