Everett-Green Evelyn
A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War
CHAPTER XII
WINTER DAYS WITHIN THE CASTLE
All Oxford was thrown into excitement by the news. Hugh le Barbier, whose disappearance after the jousting in Beaumont meadows two months before had created a certain stir in some quarters, had now been found in fetters in the Magician's Tower, as people sometimes called it, and had been carried off to the Castle for security by the Constable.
It was in all mouths that the foreign magician, whose doings and wonders had attracted no small notice during the Fair of St. Frideswyde, was none other than the Italian youth Tito Balzani, who had grown up in their midst, and had therefore an intimate knowledge of those who consulted him. It was further said that both he and Roger de Horn had been in the plot for abducting and imprisoning the missing man, and that they were now being searched for all through the neighbouring forests, to which they had most likely fled for safety so soon as they found themselves discovered.
Jack Dugdale was forward to tell the tale to the gaping throng who surrounded him whenever he appeared in the streets.
He had spent pretty nigh three days himself searching for the fugitives, and had often been hot upon their trail; but they had eluded him and the other pursuers with a cunning which had in it almost a touch of the supernatural, some thought, and now the chase had been reluctantly abandoned, and it was admitted that the quarry had escaped for the present.
But the excitement did not immediately die down. The story was in every one's mouth. Pedro Balzani's house was thronged with guests, all eager to learn what was to be known; and though the house was watched closely by the authorities, the man himself was not interfered with. He had made it plain that he was ignorant of the doings of his son, and as he himself bore a good character, the misdeeds of Tito were not visited upon his head.
But great anger prevailed against that young man throughout the town. Numbers of the citizens, and still more their wives and daughters, had consulted the magician, and had paid him what to them were large sums for scraps of information which had seemed to them marvellous as coming from the lips of a stranger from beyond the seas, but which lost all their value when it was known that Tito was the speaker. Others had been lured by him to the tower, and had paid heavily for a glance into the magic mirror, the crystal bowl, or that other bowl the thought of whose dark contents now made them shudder. Some still declared that he had dealings with the Evil One, and that the things they had seen could only be produced by the co-operation of spirits; but others vowed that it was nothing but trickery from first to last, and longed to see Tito brought back into the city, that he might be made to disgorge his ill-gotten gains, which doubtless he had kept securely fastened upon his person, so as to be ready for any emergency.
As for the other members of the Balzani household, the mother was deeply indignant at the trick which had been played upon her daughter by the girl's half-brother and his friend. She saw clearly that they sought to impose upon her credulity, and to induce her by that means to pledge her hand to Roger de Horn as the price of the life and liberty of her lover, Hugh. The mother learned much from the delirious ravings of the girl, who had been stricken with brain-fever, and lay in a most precarious condition. Indeed so dangerous was her state, and so imperative was it that she should be kept perfectly quiet, that after three days she had been conveyed by water up the river to the little village of Eynsham, where her mother's sister lived; and there, far away from the tumult of the city, which always set up excitement and paroxysms of fear, it was hoped she would recover from the shock to her system, and regain her normal health.
"And learn to forget the past," spoke the mother to her sister, before leaving the patient in her kindly care. "She is full young for thoughts of love. Methinks in these troublous days the less a maid dreams of such things the better. Hugh le Barbier is a goodly youth, and I desire none better for child of mine; but he is above her in rank. When he sees more of life and of the world, he will make more fitting choice. It would be better that they should not meet – that both should learn to forget. Naught but trouble and peril have followed from their early affection. Better it should be put aside and forgotten. Wherefore I will the more gladly leave Linda here, where, amid new scenes and surroundings, she may well forget the past, and cease to think of him for whom she is no fitting spouse in the eyes of the world."
Bridget Marlow, who had no child of her own, was willing enough to have the care of her sister's daughter. She promised to guard her jealously and tend her lovingly, and to keep her as long as her mother could spare her.
"I always said, when I did hear of thy twin daughters, that one ought surely to be mine," she said with a smile. "Fear not for her, sister – I will guard her like the apple of mine eye; and she shall find a second father and mother in us. In this quiet place few, save the good monks of the Abbey hard by, pass our way. My husband, as thou dost know, acts as porter of the gate by day; and living as we do neath the shadow of the cloister wall, we are not molested by the comings and goings of worldlings from the city. The maid will have peace and quiet here, and may well forget the troubles through which she has passed."
So Linda was, after a few days, left in that quiet place by her mother, in the fond hope that she and Hugh would now forget one another, and that the troubled dream of love would be effaced by illness from her daughter's brain.
Lotta nodded with approval when she learned what had been done.
"She had better take the veil herself, and live the life of a nun," she said, tossing her handsome, haughty head. "She is not fit for the battle of life. She is a poor, puling creature at best! She is not fit to be the bride of any save a man of dreams and books. The clash of arms turns her cheek white; the thought of peril to one she loves drives her out of her senses. She had better forget Hugh, and he her. They are no fitting mates one for the other."
As for Hugh himself, he had been carried to the Castle by order of the Constable, when his case had been made known there. A guard had been sent to search the tower, to take possession of everything found there, and to convey the young man to the Castle, where he received every attention and care.
The father of Hugh and the Constable of the Castle had been friends in their youth, and Sir Humphrey was not only interested in Hugh for that reason, but was deeply indignant at the treatment he had received, and the trick which had been played upon the authorities of the city by these two lawless youths.
For some days Hugh was unable to give an account of what had occurred, lying in a state of exhaustion which was almost like that of trance. Indeed so strange was his condition that Brother Angelus (at the earnest solicitation of Leofric) was asked to come and look at him; and he shook his head somewhat gravely over his state, and spoke words not altogether understood by those about him.
In those days the friars were the best leeches and surgeons to be had. Their work amongst the sick poor gave to them a skill and insight not always found amongst those who professed greater lore. Brother Angelus had no small store of knowledge regarding sickness, and it was well for Hugh that he was called to his side; for he strictly forbade any further bleeding (always the favourite remedy for fevers), declaring that this fever was itself the result of excessive bleedings practised with an unholy purpose, and he detected other symptoms about the young man which caused his face to take a stern and anxious aspect.
"He has been made the unwilling accomplice in deeds of darkness," he said, as he observed the comatose symptoms which often seized the patient. "They have sought to subdue his spirit and will, and to throw him into those unhallowed trances wherein men see and hear things which our Maker has thought it good to hide from us. There are ways by which one man may obtain this unrighteous power over his fellow, and this is what yon evil men have sought to do with their captive. By weakening his body they have sought to gain ascendency over his spirit. But it is plain that he has resisted manfully, and to the very last. God be thanked for that! We will pray that the malice of the enemy may in this case be frustrated!"
And daily, before he left the bed of the patient, the friar would kneel down beside him, whilst those in the room would follow his example; and he would pray earnestly against those wiles which had been used upon him, and ask release for the spirit which had been in some sort fettered and bound.
Mysterious as all this was to those who saw and heard, it was plain to them that Hugh responded better to the ministrations of Brother Angelus than to any skill of leeches. In presence of the friar he was never tormented by harassing dreams, nor did he start up as though in answer to some call unheard by others. He grew calm and tranquil, and would fall into a natural sleep; and at the end of ten days the fever fits left him altogether, and he wakened to a full knowledge of his surroundings, and an interest in life.
When this advance was made, he was permitted to pass the day with Edmund, in the pleasant upper chamber hard by his own, where, lying upon another couch in the cheerful glow of the fire, he could enjoy the society of his friends, and by-and-by tell them of those things which had happened to him since his mysterious disappearance on the day of the joustings.
"I was suddenly and furiously set upon by three of those strange black figures which we had noted moving in the crowd. There was such a tumult all around that I scarce knew what was passing, nor who was friend or who was foe; but it was plain that these men were bent upon my destruction or overthrow, and I set myself to the task of fighting them, though calling for assistance the while. But I seemed to be in the heart of foes, for none heeded my cry, and though I laid low one of the fellows, I presently felt a heavy blow upon my head which made me reel in the saddle, and the next instant I was lying upon the ground with a hand upon my throat, and just as my senses deserted me I thought I saw the fiery eyes of Roger de Horn glaring into mine through the holes in his mask."
"Ah! I thought as much," said Amalric, through his shut teeth. "Would that we could lay hands upon the villain now!"
"And what befell you then?" asked the fair Alys, who had grown mightily interested in Hugh during these past days, and was as eager as any to hear his tale when he should be allowed to tell it, which he had not been at first.
By this time Hugh seemed quite like an old friend; he had been at the Castle for a considerable time, and both Edmund and his sister felt towards him almost as though he were a brother. Any comrade and friend of Amalric's would have been welcomed, but Hugh was liked for his own sake, and for the romantic history of which he was now the hero.
"That I cannot say with certainty, fair mistress. For I lost my senses then; and when I recovered them, it was to find myself bound by an iron fetter to my ankle, in a strange circular chamber with a dome-like roof, the like of which I had never seen before."
"The Magician's Tower!" whispered Alys, with a little shiver of horror.
"So I afterwards made out, from the words of the men who haunted it, and from mine own knowledge of the city. I could sometimes hear the wash of the river, or the voices of men in boats by day. But though I cried aloud whenever I thought I might be heard, never an answer came; and my captors, if they heard me, would punish me with blows and kicks, if not with more refined forms of cruelty."
"These men were Tito Balzani and Roger de Horn?" questioned Amalric sternly.
"Yes; and soon I became aware that they were engaged upon other matters than those which directly concerned me, and that I was to be made useful to them in the practice of their evil arts. I will not speak too much of these things. The thought is hateful and repulsive. Suffice it to say that they were eagerly pursuing the study of certain black arts, and that they had books and instruments, either belonging to Tito, or found by them in this strange tower, whereby they sought to prosecute their studies. They had dupes too, who visited them, and strove to peer into the future, and they would use incantations and burn strange pungent drugs, and methinks they ofttimes so bewildered their visitors that they imagined they saw in the smoke wreaths strange things which were never there at all. However that may be, there were some who came again and again, and brought gold with them each time. And as the conjurors grew bolder they would ask larger fees. I trow they have grown rich upon the proceeds of those weeks of fraud and devilry."
"And how didst thou come to hear and see so much?"
"They grew careless of my presence in the upper chamber, where everything was prepared. As I grew weak from hunger and from loss of blood – for blood seemed a necessity to them for every experiment, and it was part of their purpose to reduce me to a mere shadow – they spoke freely of all they did and wished to do. I am certain they never intended me to escape their clutches; and I believe that upon the night of the rescue, had you been but a few minutes longer in forcing the door, they would have taken my life without pity, so fearful were they of what I might reveal. But they could not spare time in their haste to collect their gold, and as it was, they were almost caught as they climbed through the window-slits."
"And was it real magic?" asked Alys in a low voice; "or was it all trickery and jugglery?"
"That is hard to tell," answered Hugh; "but methinks they did all in their power to invoke the aid of the Evil One. I trow well that they sought to throw me into trances, that I might aid them in this. They studied their books, and tried their wicked spells upon me; and there were moments when I felt them succeeding, albeit I fought might and main. If I could keep my mind fixed on holy things, and continue to pray, I was safe from them. But there were moments when I was so weak that I felt my hold slipping away, and I trow that then I did fall in some sort beneath some evil spell; and the horror of it is but passing away now, since Brother Angelus has spoken and prayed with me. Trickery there was in much they did. I know my face was shown again and again in the magic mirror, and that I was dressed up to look sometimes as a maid, sometimes as an aged man, sometimes as a mailed warrior – my face painted and my hair arranged to suit the part. This was when I was wellnigh dead through loss of blood, and could not resist them. They had gained such power over me that ofttimes I could not make a sound, greatly as I longed to do so. When I guessed, from what they had said in my hearing, that Linda was to be brought to see my face in the mirror, I strove might and main to cry aloud, and tell who and what these men were; but my voice would not obey – no sound could I utter."
"If we can but catch them," cried Amalric, "they shall pay for their devilries!"
But Roger and Tito were too wary to be caught. They had fled beyond the precincts of Oxford, and pursuit was abandoned at last as hopeless. Hugh recovered his wonted vigour with more rapidity than could at first have been anticipated; but he showed no disposition to return to his old quarters at Dagville's Inn. Once he asked after Linda, and on hearing what had befallen her he heaved a long sigh.
"Methinks that I have brought her nothing but woe and sorrow," he said; "she will be happier there than in the tumult of this strange city. Some day I will see her again; but for the present let her remain in peace and safety. I am glad she should be in so tranquil a place."
But the house of the Balzanis had lost its charm for him. He had no wish to face the father of Tito or the witcheries of Lotta, of which he was not unconscious.
"Stay here within the Castle," said Amalric, "and enter at St. George's, as I have done. There be a few poor, turbulent Welsh students there, but for the most part we are a quiet and studious company. We will make you welcome amongst us. Come and be my comrade there."
Hugh was easily persuaded to this course. St. George's in the Castle was a very ancient building, dating back from the reign of William the Conqueror. It had been founded by Robert d'Oilly for secular Canons, and his successor had transferred it to the Canons Regular of Osney. Subsequently it had become a house for University students, although it remained to a certain extent under the jurisdiction of the Abbot of Osney.
This was shown by the fact that there was a Custos or Warden appointed from among the Canons of Osney to be over the College of St. George's in the Castle. He was not a permanent resident there, but paid a domiciliary visit about Christmas time, which was regarded as a part of the season's festivities.
"Thou wilt join us in a good time," said Amalric to Hugh, when the latter had installed himself with as much comfort as might be in those days in his new quarters, having arranged to share a small and fairly commodious chamber with young De Montfort: "for upon the Feast of the Nativity, or a few days later, the Warden will come from Osney, to remain to the Feast of the Epiphany; and we shall go forth with torches and songs to welcome him, and bring him hither in state. They say we live right merrily whilst he is with us. Fair Mistress Alys is all agog to see the torchlight procession. I trust the night will be fair and fine, that she be not disappointed."
Alys, indeed, was all alive for any bit of entertainment in her pleasant but rather monotonous life. The Christmas revellings were not of a character greatly to attract one of a gentle spirit. She knew that she would scarce be permitted during those days of feasting to sally forth into the city at all. Riot and disorder too often characterized the events of that season. The lectures of the Regent Masters were suspended for a short period, although other lecturers continued their discourses. Some amongst the richer scholars, or those from the neighbourhood, went to their homes; but the greater number remained in the city, and made night hideous with their revellings and disorder. A Lord of Misrule was chosen for the occasion, and misrule was the order of the day. The citizens themselves were little better behaved at this holiday season, and for a week disorder and roistering prevailed in defiance of any action on the part of the authorities. If they could prevent an open riot or a pitched battle in the streets, it was as much as they could hope to do; and Alys knew that she would be kept closely within the Castle walls. Indeed, after her experience of a students' holiday once before, she had little desire to witness another.
Hugh was not sorry himself to be free of the turmoil of the city, his health being not altogether what it had been before his strange captivity. The greater seclusion and quiet within the Castle walls better suited him, and companionship with Amalric and the Constable's children was pleasant. He rather liked, too, the small solemnities with which he was admitted to be a scholar of that place. He was taken before the high altar of the chapel, and bidden to swear to be faithful and obedient to the Warden and to the Abbot of Osney, and not to raise debates between them, not to clamber over the Castle walls at night, or to be guilty of nocturnal vagaries; and if promoted to wealth in after life, to leave something to the College. Then he paid some small fees for the registration of his name, for a supper to his fellow-scholars, and towards the common stock of money; after which he became a scholar of the College, and shared in the life of his companions.
Three days after Christmas, upon a clear starlight night, the scholars sat down to their supper attired in their best habits, each of them being provided with a torch dipped in pitch and resin.
That meal having been disposed of, they all marched in procession to Osney in decorous silence, and with their torches yet unlighted. They were admitted into the courtyard by a silent monk, and once there they drew up in a circle round the enclosure, and waited, mute and patient.
But they had not to wait long. A door in the building was flung open, and out stepped the Abbot, and by his side was the Warden of St. George's, the Canons Regular being grouped in the background. At sight of these reverend men the scholars all bent the knee in token of respect, and the Abbot advancing a few steps forward gave to them his blessing.
Then the Warden stepped forward, and saluted the scholars in Latin, they replying in the same tongue, after which two of the seniors advanced, lighted their torches, and placed themselves before him.
The rest of the scholars drew up in rank behind, their torches yet unlighted, and the procession filed out of the courtyard, and along the wet, muddy road which led towards the Castle. Midway between the Abbey and the Castle a halt was called. Rapidly and in orderly fashion the scholars kindled their torches and struck up the appointed hymn. The procession formed up again, and passing between rows of gaping citizens, who had come out into King's Meadow to see the show go by, trooped across Quaking Bridge and through the gateway, till they found themselves within the precincts of the College itself.
Here a new hymn was sung, and the Warden was conducted with great ceremony to his own lodging, where he bid farewell to his body-guard and dismissed them with kindly words of thanks.
Alys from her upper window watched the picturesque grouping of the gowned scholars, and the flashing of torches in the open space below; and as Amalric and Hugh looked up and held theirs aloft, they were rewarded by the waving of a slim white hand, which told them they had been seen and recognized.
