CHAPTER XXII.

Of another embassy from Sir Folko de Montfaucon.

The first gleams of the morning-red had scarcely appeared over the hills on the eastern sea-shore, when Gabrielle and Blanchefleur were already awake and dressed, and stood at their veranda (that was entwined with vine-branches and shadowed with myrtle), watching for the appearance of the Chevalier de Montfaucon. They were now the more anxious that he should come, since during the night their minds had been so confused by strange visions, that they began afterwards to doubt whether the adventure of the preceding day, with the falcon and the rose-coloured parchment, had not been all but a dream!

However, not long after they had taken their place at the window, a pleasant concert was heard of cymbals, horns, and flutes, which seemed approaching by a road that wound through a level meadow towards the palace. Looking thitherward, they perceived that a squadron of Moorish horsemen were approaching as the van-guard; then followed many camels and sumpter-horses, loaded with merchandize, covered also with blue velvet cloth, richly fringed. Hereupon, Blanchefleur and Gabrielle joyfully recognised the colours of the Montfaucon arms, and smiled on each other with increasing confidence. Thereafter came the musicians,--a full band, with many instruments, of which the metal parts were composed only of the purest silver and gold: the joints moreover and keys were ornamented with diamonds and emeralds. At last appeared the lord and master of this grand procession. He was mounted on a very beautiful mule, so richly covered with embroidered drapery that the feet only were visible from the ground, and the large dark eyes rolled within a casement of gold adornments. The noble chevalier himself was attired in blue and gold silk so richly and magnificently, that one could not well say whether he was dressed like a Moor or a Christian. Moreover he sat on a sumpter-saddle like a woman, with a guitar in his hand, on which he seemed to play, though but few notes were heard; for the music that was made by his attendants was far too loud to permit such gentle sounds to reach the listener’s ears. By the light which gleamed in his eyes, however, one could perceive that he played somewhat that to his own mind was very delightful; and this happened just as he first caught sight of Gabrielle behind the vine-interwoven veranda.

At the first glance, the ladies had recognised the Chevalier de Montfaucon. Though he now wore an artificial beard on his upper-lip, another of great length descending from his chin, and a turban of sky-blue silk round his richly-curled hair, Gabrielle and Blanchefleur would have distinguished him from among an hundred other champions. At the same time the noble falcon played round his master, oftentimes whirling and fluttering before him, as if he had sought to point out to the damsels the knight whom they already so well knew. Meanwhile the Prince Mutza never once discovered in the merchant the conqueror whom he had so shamefully deceived. On the contrary, he came quite tranquilly and unconcerned out of his palace to meet the strangers, inquired what goods they had to sell, approved what they offered, and at last invited the merchant to dine with him in his banquet-hall. Sir Folko, however, excused himself from accepting this invitation. He feared that the ladies by their emotion might have betrayed who he really was; and besides, if he wished to communicate any message, his falcon would serve him as the most faithful ambassador. Accordingly, through the next week, that swift and trustworthy servant was often employed; and by the frequent interchange of the rose-coloured parchment, it was brought about that the Chevalier de Montfaucon became aware of the plan already formed by Theobaldo, the Count de Vinciguerra, and the minstrel Aleard, with whom, of course, he entered into a bond of friendship. It was only needful to wait for Don Hernandez, (who had agreed with the Chevalier de Montfaucon to attend in the harbour of Carthagena,) ere their great adventure was to be tried and carried through with triumph.

One evening, it was just when the eventful time drew near, the two damsels were again seated on the grass below the oleander-tree. The falcon had brought them a new letter, and had seated himself on the snow-white hand of the Lady Blanchefleur, who, to say the truth, was afraid of the bird; for she thought he might, from impatience, scratch her with his long talons. Meanwhile Gabrielle held the parchment in one hand, and the golden pencil, with which she was wont to write, in the other, but without setting one word on the rose-coloured leaf that she held before her. Blanchefleur begged of her not to delay, for fear that some one from the palace might come to interrupt them; “and,” added she, “write, if possible, in such manner to the brother of your faithful friend, that he may not utterly despair; or, if this cannot be, send him at least some words of consolation in his distress.” Gabrielle shook her head, with all its beautiful tresses, gravely and mournfully. She read once more the lines which Sir Folko had addressed to her, and which were indeed a love-sonnet, of which the sad music fell so deeply and movingly on her heart, that she began to weep bitterly. Blanchefleur wept also, and said anxiously, “And will you not send even one word in answer? Shall this brave knight encounter such dangers, and meet perchance death, for your sake, without even the consolation of knowing that you would even heave one sigh for his untimely fate?” Hereupon they heard the portal of the garden move on its hinges. They heard even the voice of Mutza; and the falcon shook his wings and looked round him impatiently. “Haste, oh haste!” whispered the now trembling Blanchefleur; “my poor brother will die of grief, if you send back his falcon without an answer.” Terrified, and scarcely knowing what she did, Gabrielle wrote upon the leaf two little verses, bidding Sir Folko “live for the sake of her who loved him;” and Blanchefleur, leaving her no time for reflection, fixed it in the falcon’s collar, which joyfully flew away swift as an arrow towards his master. Blanchefleur then fell upon her friend’s neck, and kissed her with affectionate gratitude.