第60章 HOW ELLIOT LOST HER JACKANAPES(1)

The Maid's confessor,Pasquerel,stood in the chamber where we had met,with his eyes bent on the ground,so that Elliot and I had no more free speech at that time.Therefore I said farewell,not daring to ask of her when her mind was to visit my hosts,and,indeed,my trust was that she might leave this undone,lest new cause of sorrow should arise.Thus we parted,with very courtly leave-taking,the priest regarding us in his manner,and I was carried in the litter through the streets,that had been so quiet when I came forth in the morning,but now they were full of men and of noise.Herds of cattle were being driven for the food of the army marching against Jargeau;there were trains of carts full of victual,and the citizens having lent the Maid their great pieces of ordnance,the bombard called "The Shepherdess,"and the gun "Montargis,"these were being dragged along by clamorous companies of apprentices,and there were waggons charged with powder,and stone balls,and boxes of arrows,spades and picks for trenching,and all manner of munition of war.By reason of the troops of horses and of marching men,they that bore me were often compelled to stop.Therefore,lest any who knew me should speak with me,Idrew the curtains of the litter,for I had much matter to think on,and was fain to be private.But this was to be of no avail,for Iheard loud voices in my own tongue.

"What fair lady is this who travels so secretly?"and,with this,one drew the curtains,and there was the face of Randal Rutherford,with others behind him.Then he uttered a great cry -"Faith,it is our lady of the linen-basket,and no other";and leaning within,he gave me a rough embrace and a kiss of his bearded lips."Why so early astir,our sick man?"he cried."Get yourself healed anon,and be with us when we take Paris town,Norman,for there is booty enough to furnish all Scotland.Shalt thou be with us yet?""If my strength backs my will,Randal;and truly your face is a sight for sair eyne,and does me more good than all the powers of the apothecary.""Then here is to our next merry meeting,"he cried,"under Paris walls!"With that the Scots gave a shout,and,some of them crowding round to press my hand,they bade me be of good cheer,and all went onward,singing in the tune of "Hey,tuttie tattie,"which the pipers played when we broke the English at Bannockburn.

So I was borne back to the house of Jacques Boucher,and,in the sunny courtyard,there stood Charlotte,looking gay and fair,yet warlike,as I deemed.She was clad in a long garment of red over a white robe,and had sleeves of green,so that she wore the spring's own colours,and she was singing a French ditty concerning a lady who has a lover,and vows that she will never be a nun.

Seray-je nonnette,oui ou non,Serray-je nonnette,je croy que non!

Seeing me,she stinted in her singing,and in feeding a falcon that was perched on her wrist.

"You are early astir for a sick man,"she said."Have you been on pilgrimage,or whither have you been faring?""The Maid sent for me right early,for to-day she rides to Jargeau,and to you she sends a message of her love,"--as indeed she had done,"but,for the great press of affairs she might not visit you.""And Mistress Elliot Hume,has she forgiven her lover yet?nay,Isee by your face that you are forgiven!And you go south,this very day,is it not so?""Indeed,"I said,"if it is your will that we part,part we must,though I sorrow for it;but none has given me the word to march,save you,my fair nurse and hostess.""Nay,it is not I who shall speed you;nevertheless the Maid is not the only prophetess in this realm of France,and something tells me that we part this day.But you are weary;will you get you to your chamber,or sit in the garden under the mulberry-tree,and I shall bring you out a cup of white wine."Weary I was indeed,and the seat in the garden among the flowers seemed a haven most desirable.So thither I went,leaning on her shoulder,and she returned to bring the wine,but was some while absent,and I sat deep in thought.I was marvelling,not only as to what my mistress would next do,and when I should see her again (though that was uppermost in my mind),but also concerning the strange words of the Maid,that I alone should be with her when all forsook her and fled.How might this be,and was she not to be ever victorious,and drive the English forth of France?To my thinking the Maid dwelt ever in two worlds,with her brethren of Paradise,and again with sinful men.And I have often considered that she did not always remember,in this common life,what had befallen her,and what she knew when,as the Apostle says,she "was out of the body."For I have heard her say,more than once,that she "would last but one year,or little more,"and,again,she would make plans for three years to come,or four,which is a mystery.

So I was pondering,when I looked up,and saw Charlotte standing in the entrance between the court and garden,looking at me and smiling,as she shaded her eyes with her hand from the sun,and then she ran to me lightly as a lapwing.

"They are coming down the street,looking every way for our house,your lady and her father,"she said,putting the wine-cup into my hand."Now is it war or peace?"and she fled back again within the house.