CHAPTER XIII.

How the Lady Gabrielle, and the Lady Blanchefleur, were carried away by the Moorish Prince.

Some weeks had now past since the departure of Sir Folko, when one evening the three ladies were walking along the sea-shore, discoursing together, and enjoying the cool breezes from the water. “Methinks, Blanchefleur,” said Bertha, “your brother has not done well to leave the Moorish prince here alone with us in the castle, especially as the stranger continues to maintain that he is no longer bound by the conditions on which he came. You know he speaks in jest; but I own, that I distrust him mightily, and feel a certain horror, which I cannot well describe, at his presence.” “There we listen again to the grave German damsel,” said Gabrielle, “so precise, and so demurely timid! There are few knights, this you must at least confess, who surpass, or even equal, this noble Mutza in courtesy of manners, princely demeanour, or ingenious and witty discourse. Besides, I have seldom seen any man so handsome, and, methinks, he is now by far the most brilliant ornament of our lonely castle.”

“Handsome!” replied Bertha, slowly and reflectingly; “are you both of that mind? When I calmly reflect on the matter, I cannot indeed say that you are in the wrong; though I, for my own part, should never have thought so. Mark you, he is tall indeed, slender, has fine eyes, a high forehead, and majestic gait. Moreover, when he dances the toca, with his turban loose and fluttering about him, it is doubtless a pleasure to look upon him, and he is like what we read of in old fables, starting into real life before us; but, strange as you may think my fancies, when smiling, as if in scorn and triumph, he opens his lips, and shews his long white teeth, I feel almost as if I had beside me a half-tamed tiger! The tiger too is said to be a beautiful creature,--only for my part I wish not for any such companion!”

“And what says Blanchefleur to all this?” said Gabrielle. Whereupon that beautiful damsel started as if awoke from a dream, and said,--“I know not certainly who is approaching us; but, even now, I heard again the same pleasant sounds from the rocks on the sea-shore!” Both her companions laughed at perceiving how her thoughts wandered from the subjects on which they had spoken; but, ere long, they were themselves hindered from continuing their discourse; for they heard in truth a soft sound of music, which came from the direction to which Blanchefleur had pointed across the water. They thought they could even distinguish words expressing the deep ardent longing of a lover separated from his mistress, wishing for wings that he might be borne across the seas towards her, and then ending with notes of melancholy and despair, because this was impossible! The tones melted away, and Blanchefleur said, with tears in her eyes, “Thus I often hear him sing. Even by moonlight, at dead of night, I have heard his voice coming to me through the flowers and vine-leaves at my window. Am I right, dearest sister? Can it be the voice of Aleard?”

There was no time to answer; for, lo! among the trees before them, were now visible, tall figures of men, strangely attired, and with long beards, who stood still, and spoke vehemently, pointing all the while to the three ladies, as if these were the subjects of their conversation. The damsels were terrified, and wished to return home; but, on looking round, they perceived, on the top of a hill, more of the same figures, precisely in the direction of their homeward path. Some of these frightful men on the hill immediately rushed down with supernatural rapidity, and, as if to aid the plans of those who were still among the trees, took their stations on the other side; so that all attempt at escape would now have been utterly vain. Then they approached with an air of the greatest respect, with their hands crossed over their breasts, and their heads declined almost to the ground; though, as their disordered locks hung over their features, their appearance was thus rendered more hideous than ever. At last, behold! Prince Mutza stepped forward from among them, now dressed in more than usual magnificence, gleaming with gold and jewels, and followed by two youths, also in the Arabian garb, and nearly as splendid in appearance as the prince. “Do not blame me,” said he, bowing to Gabrielle, “if I now say that I must go from hence; nor tremble when I add, that you must bear me company! With us you will enjoy a life of magnificence and pleasure; and, for my support in this adventure, I have sent for these two handsome knights, assuring them, that they would here find ladies even more beautiful than the Houris of Mahomet. Have I kept my word?” added he, looking to his companions, one of whom now kneeled down before Blanchefleur, who, pale with terror, clung to the arm of Gabrielle; while the other, in like manner, paid his court to Bertha, who scornfully turned from him, and hastily ran up to the remains of an aged stone altar, on which there yet stood an old moss-grown crucifix. It was a pleasure to look upon her, and mark how she held the cross firmly with her left arm, while with the right, she made signs to the young Arab to be gone, and gazed thoughtfully up to the deep azure vault of heaven.

Meanwhile, Gabrielle had again recovered her recollection and power of speech, and in vehement tones expressed her indignation at the Prince Mutza; inasmuch as he had insulted the confidence reposed in him by his noble host, and also broken his own word of honour, solemnly pledged, when he came thither as a hostage and a prisoner. “As to my word of honour, pledged to the Chevalier de Montfaucon,” answered the Moor, “I have twice in his own presence declared that I was no longer bound by any such contract; and if your dazzling beauty, noble lady, has since then completely blinded me and led me astray, who shall question me on the consequences? I must act, in the first place, according to my own sense of justice; and in the second, according as your irresistible charms compel me to do.” With these words, he took Gabrielle in his arms; and, notwithstanding her loud cries for help, bore her down to the sea-shore, where a boat was already prepared by his people. Blanchefleur, during this adventure, had sunk into complete forgetfulness of all that had passed; for she had fainted; and the young Arab, who had knelt before her, took her in his arms, and followed his prince and leader. However, when the rest of the Moorish party, now become more than ever bold and determined, stept up to the Lady Bertha, she called out in a loud severe tone, “I take God and man, heaven and earth to witness, that here, on this day, a deed of violence, a deed of shameful wickedness and dishonour, is committed! Whether a miracle shall be wrought to check or hinder its achievement I know not yet. But beware, cowards as you are, thus triumphing over the defenceless; for such a miracle may come to pass, when you think yourselves most secure and independent. I say this to you with confidence, that whoever dares to tear me from the sacred place on which I now stand, to your pirate-ship, will draw down the wrath of Heaven upon his own head.” The Moorish knight looked on her as she stood clinging to the cross, illumined by the ruby light of the setting sun, and recoiled as if terrified from her reproaches. His soldiers, too, without saying a word, retreated to the shore; and when Bertha once more made him a sign, with her uplifted right arm, he exclaimed,--“She is more like a ghost than a mortal woman!” So he left her with precipitation, and fled to the boat, which immediately afterwards began to ply its oars and depart from the coast.

Still the enthusiastic damsel had retained her place on the altar, when a youth, in the dress of a minstrel, with features deadly pale, and his hair dishevelled, came running along the sea-shore towards her. “In God’s name!” cried he, “tell me, I beseech you, have the Moors made a captive of Blanchefleur?” And scarcely had she answered “Yes,” when, in the hurried tone of distraction, he addressed her, “Send then a messenger with a fleet horse to her brother in Normandy! I must find means to follow the Moors! Remember this, that not a moment must be lost!” Thereupon he ran away as quickly as he had come; and not till after he had vanished from her sight did the Lady Bertha remember that it was the minstrel, Aleard, with whom she had then spoken.