CHAPTER VII.

How the Lady and Nurreddin discoursed on their Voyage.

The shouts of admiration and parting greetings, which rent the air when the emir left Carthagena, had long since died away; now even the Spanish shore had vanished from their sight, and they were driven rapidly onward by gentle and steady west winds along the wide blue waters, under a serene cloudless sky.

On the deck of the flag-ship were seated Nurreddin and Bertha, under a canopy of olive-green silk, and zealously conversing with each other, sometimes in the Arabic, and sometimes in one or other of the European languages. Meanwhile the timidity inspired by Nurreddin’s solemn grandeur of demeanour kept all the listeners at a respectful distance; even Master Aleard, the noble troubadour, was not invited to a share in this high conference. Truly their dialogue might have begun playfully, with music and song, for Bertha’s lute still rested on her left arm; but the discourse of noble and elevated souls, who are ever striving after the highest knowledge and virtue, may well be compared to the eagle’s flight, which, though he may now and then descend as if in sport to attack the wild deer or other game of the forest, still, as by nature directed, renews his upright course, soaring always nearer and nearer to the sun.

So these twain, the Moorish knight and the damsel, sat there, and conversed in their pomp and dignity; but as to what they said, it may not here be repeated word for word. Though Bertha’s thoughts were indeed solemn and anxious, yet she did not venture to speak on the truths of our holy faith too plainly, but discoursed rather in shadowy images and mystic allegories. These lofty and sublime truths were the subject of their dialogue, Nurreddin enforcing his arguments by all the flowery eloquence of the East, while Bertha spoke with careless and almost child-like simplicity; and meanwhile, from a vessel that sailed near them, the tones of the troubadour’s harp sounded at intervals in mournful melody. At length the shades of evening fell upon the waters; and thereafter night came with her countless gleaming stars, when Nurreddin gave the damsel in charge to his female slaves, while he retired to his cabin. Bertha meanwhile continued to speak as cheerfully as ever with her attendants; and when at last she fell asleep, a pleasant smile settled on her beautiful features, betokening the quiet and innocence that reigned in her heart.

Next day the combat between these two noble spirits was renewed, and carried on with equal ardour. As for the emir, he had recourse to several rolls of manuscript palm-leaves, which he brought from his cabin, and out of them read aloud now and then well-sounding verses and deeply-pondered sentences. Bertha meanwhile had no book to assist her; though it is true she should have had in her possession one volume, more estimable than all others, bound in black velvet, adorned with silver-clasps and beautiful pictures; but this was left at the fortress of Trautwangen, while the history of saints, that she had been wont to read with so much pleasure, still remained at Gabrielle’s castle in Gascony. Yet these books, more especially the lives of saints, had been studied by the good pious Bertha with such care, that she now never failed by memory to command their assistance. Many times indeed she reflected long and silently; so that one might have thought she was embarrassed and overpowered by the splendid and poetic language of Nurreddin; yet, in answer to what he read from the Koran and other Moorish records, she failed not at last to answer in the spirit of faith, hope, and charity, moreover with a dove-like simplicity, whereby the serpent’s cunning shewn in Mahomet’s doctrine was wholly overcome.

So their meetings continued for several weeks, and the sea-voyage passed over after a fashion which the mariners and soldiers little expected. Instead of banquets, music, and mirth, there prevailed over them all a solemn meditative silence, whose influence seemed indeed extended to the ocean and the sky. Only so much wind breathed on the sails as was required to bring the voyagers onward in their course towards Ostia; the wide sea lay around them almost like a mirror, only varied by light rippling waves as the vessels ploughed their adventurous way, furrowing the deep fathomless waters.