CHAPTER VI.

How the Lady Bertha sailed from Carthagena.

Now this fairy legend, that we have told in plain prose, was sung by Nurreddin in pleasant, well-sounding verses; and Bertha listened thereto with so much pleasure, that the emir repeated it to her many times thereafter, and it seemed as if his own heart was always strangely moved by the recital. Then it came to pass, that she begged him to explain who was in reality the far-famed Hygies, and if he did not know more of this warrior than the song had unfolded?--“Somewhat,” answered the emir, “but not much;--all that I know is,--that he came from foreign countries to Greece; that he was a youth everywhere beheld with fear and wonder; but I could never prove whether his name were properly Hygies, or if this were not a title bestowed on him in Crete, for in the Hellenic tongue it imports, that he was lively, active, and jocose.”--After such answers, it happened for the most part that he would speak no more, and that a deep shade of discontent came over his dark frowning brows.

One evening Bertha sat with the emir on a lofty balcony, whence she commanded a beautiful prospect across the orange-groves towards the sea, her mind filled with pleasant remembrances of home. A cooling east wind played over the water, and rustled through the orange-trees, bearing sometimes leaves from their branches, and wafting them up to the damsel. “How,” said she, “if this wind, with its rustling leaves, came from the enchanter’s island, or from Damascus, and could bring me news what has become of the brave knight Hygies, and his infant son?” “Nay,” answered the emir, “How comes it, that you have never inquired of me what was the fate of the poor child?”

“I know not wherefore I was silent,” said Bertha, “my heart always longed to hear more of him, and yet, when I was about to speak, methought as if by invisible hands a seal was imprinted on my lips, and I could not utter a word.”

“That is indeed strange,” said the emir, “for I have felt always impelled to tell you more of that child and his fortunes, but the fear withheld me, that you would look on him, who was thus born in the enchanter’s cave and in the wild island, with aversion and terror. Know, then, that I myself am the son of the brave Hygies.”

Bertha gazed at him with wonder, and at length said, “Why then should I be afraid of you, because you are the son of that renowned hero and the beautiful lady of Damascus? Rather should I expect to find in you a star of honour and courtesy, in whom I could confidently trust.” “A comet, rather you should have said,” answered Nurreddin, “or a destructive thunderbolt, terrifying the nations, and destroying many in its course; yet to future generations announcing happiness and prosperity.”

“The nations must be very base,” said Bertha gravely, “if they look for aid to a single champion, and not from their own strength.”

“Even to prevent them from becoming thus depraved,” said Nurreddin, “have I been sent into the world. I must kindle the fire and fan the flames; the fire of trial and purification, whereby many a peaceful roof will be overthrown, and many a blooming land laid waste, in order that, thereafter, all may be established better than heretofore. Believe me, noble lady, the nations of the earth may well be compared to the phœnix, and from time to time must be consumed by fire, that, arising from their ashes, they may prove their immortality and everlasting strength.”

“I believe you are now led astray by a fearful delusion,” said Bertha; “but Heaven will, according to his divine wisdom, set you free from this temptation; and as for the destructive fires with which you now threaten the people, Providence will no doubt interfere for their protection.”

“Ere long it shall be proved how that may be,” answered the emir; “to-morrow we are to set out with my fleet of galleys towards Ostia. There we shall cast anchor; and this is the voyage of which I have before spoken, and on which you must go with me before I am at liberty to attend you on your journey homewards. Rome is but feebly defended; and if I should succeed in burying the triple-crowned priest under the ruins of his own churches, the whole mouldering fabric of the system, called Christianity, would at once be tumbled down, along with its key-stone, to the ground. Especially, I have the better chance to succeed in this undertaking, because the light and mirror of your Christian knighthood, the brave King Richard, is now held in prison by his own friends and comrades in the field, who should have protected him, if need were, from all such insult.”

Thereafter a pleasant smile stole over Bertha’s features; nay, she looked so contented and child-like in her happiness, that one might have rather said that she laughed; whereupon the emir rose from his place on the veranda, walked up and down, and said, “Fair and beautiful as thou art, how can’st thou jest over what I have now said? My hopes and courage, nay my very life, had been renewed in thy presence; for I believed that every thought and feeling of my soul was by thee sympathized with and understood; and, though according to the manner of timid damsels, thou perchance might be afraid of my over vehemence and zeal, yet thou could’st still admire the greatness of my undertakings, and feel thereby inspired and enraptured. Now, however, when I have uttered before thee those things of which I had never till now spoken but in my secret prayers to God and our holy prophet, all the return I meet with is but in childish laughter! not even hast thou trembled at thoughts of the fearful and irresistible dangers which my voyage will bring on thy cherished faith and all its adherents.”

“Could my faith then be sincere,” answered Bertha, with the same unconcerned smile, “if I thought that our religion could be overcome by thy endeavours? The true faith may never die; Heaven will soon supply means for the defence of Rome; and I am heartily glad that you will take me with you to Ostia, and that I may be a wondering spectator by what agent Providence shall repulse your proud and warlike attacks. It may be an avenging spirit with a flaming sword, or a seraph smiling on you in peace and forgiveness; and, Heaven knows, it is my earnest hope that the peace-angel may come to meet you.”

At these words, Nurreddin bowed lowly and respectfully, saying, “Forgive me, if I misunderstood your smiles; for it is not my fault if you are far better fitted to excite or display heroic energies than to look for and admire them in others.”

Bertha stretched out her hand kindly to the emir, and answered, “Good night, brave and adventurous son of the renowned Hygies. We must meet early to-morrow, and be prepared for our journey.” “Ay, truly,” answered Nurreddin; “but I pray you, do not call me as you now did, the son of Hygies; for though I respect his memory who was ennobled by such brave exploits, yet the reflection, that he neither brought me to my mother’s parents, the king and queen at Damascus, nor to his own home, which remains still unknown, but that I was left amid the wild wandering Arabs to be educated as chance might direct;--these thoughts, noble lady, are indeed bitter and painful to my heart; and I am tempted to think, that though he might well merit his prize of the Damascus sword, yet he was not deserving of the tender rose-tree, nor the rose-like maiden.” With these words he bowed respectfully, and left the veranda.

On the following morning the ships of Nurreddin, with their brazen beaks and silken streamers, were gleaming in the sun, while the light breezes gently played amid their snow-white sails. Through a shadowy walk of the garden, Bertha now came with her extraordinary protector from the palace towards the sea-shore. As they drew near the gate, there was heard from the thickets the gentle sound of a harp; and ere long, words too blended with its notes, and Bertha could not but listen; for the words were French, and reminded her of past and happy days. The voice and music were tremulous and mournful; and the minstrel deplored that he could no longer praise the beauties of the ocean-waves dancing in the sunshine, the blooming woods and fragrant breezes of the morning; for now the fairest of flowers, the damsel that had adorned these woods, was borne far away; and he could only weep, or faintly sing to his harp, the lamentations of a lonely and despairing lover. Then it seemed, after this beginning, as if his voice died away in his grief and sadness, and only low broken notes of his harp were still heard from amid the shadowy coverts.

Bertha had involuntarily stood still to listen; and the emir, anxious to fulfil every wish of hers, stopped also, and made a signal that the slaves who followed them should not move. When the song had thus died away, and Bertha looked anxiously round for the minstrel, Nurreddin stepped hastily on through the portal, and, with his eagle-eyes, soon found out the disconsolate youth with his harp, made a sign that he should come nearer; and thereafter brought him before the lady, who, to her great joy, recognised at once the minstrel, Aleard.

Kindly and anxiously then she inquired what had led him to that foreign land, and whether it might possibly be in her power to lessen that grief by which he now seemed oppressed. The youth wished to answer; but, with a mistrustful side-look at Nurreddin, he remained silent. “Speak freely,” said Bertha; “whatever a noble-minded minstrel can have to say may surely be uttered in the presence of this valiant hero.” Thereafter Aleard related, without hesitation, how he had come hither to rescue Blanchefleur; but that, after seeing the fate of her brother, Sir Folko, his wrath against the Count Vinciguerra and the merchant, Theobaldo, was so great, that he resolved no longer to hold any intercourse with them, and past the night, after the seeming death of the chevalier, in contriving how he might alone and by stratagem effect her deliverance. Not till next morning did he hear of the knight’s miraculous restoration, and the escape of both the ladies; “and now,” said he, “I am here disconsolate and alone, wandering amid people who move round me like apparitions in a mirror, or listening to sounds that find no echo in my heart. My harp indeed is left to me, and is my only companion. By that means, if I visit the houses of rich Moorish knights, I am able to live, without submitting to ignoble or wearisome toil, and by night, or early in the morning, can call back in sunny dreams the pleasures of the past. I had indeed resolved to wear away my life on this foreign shore; but when your beauty, which I had often beheld in the presence of Blanchefleur, again dawned on my sight, the ardent longing for home once more awoke painfully and anxiously in my heart. Therefore it is true, that I now wished to draw your attention to my sorrows; for I find that you are prepared for your voyage hence. If it were possible that I might go with you again into a Christian land, so the light of a new morning would gleam forth on the darkness of my fate; if this may not be, yet the sight of you now departing is at least like the last rays of the setting sun, and the night will all the sooner come to shed her veil over my sorrows.” “Nay, if it be the will of Heaven,” said Bertha, “I shall prove to you, like the early morning red, the harbinger of light and joy. This valiant champion will not, methinks, disapprove what I have proposed.” Hereupon the emir kindly took the minstrel’s hand, and said, “Whatsoever the Lady Bertha only wishes may be looked on as fulfilled, if it be in the power of Nurreddin to render her assistance. Moreover your art is dear to me for its own sake; for we Arabians are lovers of music and of song, and the fairy legends of olden time.” So discoursing pleasantly with each other, they all three came down upon the shore, now sweetly illuminated by the red morning gleams. There they embarked, and directly the mariners set sail, and the vessels moved proudly out of the harbour.