In the Days of Chivalry: A Tale of the Times of the Black Prince by Everett-Green (best romantic books to read TXT) 📖

him a visit; and that visit had lasted from the previous October till now, when the full beauty of a glorious English summer had clothed the world in green, and the green was just tarnishing slightly in the heat of a glaring August.

As Raymond had seen something of the fashion in which the world was wagging, his thoughts had ofttimes recurred to Father Paul and that solemn warning he had uttered. He had spoken of it to John, and both had mused upon it, wondering if indeed something of prophetic fire dwelt within that strong, spare frame -- whether indeed, through his austerities and fasts, the monk had so reduced the body that the things of the spiritual world were revealed to him, and the future lay spread before his eyes.

At first both the cousins had thought week by week to hear some news of a terrible visitation; but day had followed day, and months had rolled by, and still the country was holding high revel without a thought or a fear for the future. So gradually the two studious youths had ceased to speak of the visitation they had once confidently looked for, and they gave themselves up with the zest of pure enjoyment to their studies and the pursuit of learning. Raymond's spiritual nature was deepened and strengthened by his perusal of such sacred and devotional lore as he could lay hands upon; and though the Scriptures, as they were presented to him, were not without many errors and imperfections and omissions, he yet obtained a clearer insight into many of the prophetical writings, and a fuller grasp of God's purposes towards man, than he had ever dreamed of before. So that though strongly tinged with the mysticism and even with the superstition of the times, his spiritual growth was great, and the youth felt within him a spring of power unknown before which was in itself a source of exaltation and power.

And there was another element of happiness in Raymond's life at this time which must not be omitted from mention. Seldom as he saw her -- jealously as she was guarded by her father and brother, now returned from the war, and settled again at Woodcrych -- he did nevertheless from time to time encounter Mistress Joan Vavasour, and each encounter was fraught with a new and increasing pleasure. He had never spoken a word of love to her; indeed he scarce yet knew that he had lost his heart in that fashion which so often leads to wedlock. He was only just beginning to realize that she was not many years older than himself -- that she was not a star altogether beyond the firmament of his own sky. He had hitherto regarded her with one of those boyish adorations which are for the time being sufficient in themselves, and do not look ahead into the future; and then Raymond well knew that before he could for a moment dream of aspiring to the hand of the proud knight's daughter, he must himself have carved his way to moderate fortune and fame.

His dreams of late had concerned themselves little with his worldly estate, and therefore his deep reverential admiration for Joan had not developed into anything of a definite purpose. If he dreamed dreams of the future in which she bore a part, it was only of laying at her feet such laurels as he should win, without thinking of asking a reward at her hands, unless it was the reward of being her own true knight, and rescuing her from the power of the Sanghursts, father and son, who appeared to have regained their old ascendency over Sir Hugh and his son, and to be looking forward still to the alliance between the two families.

Joan was of more than marriageable age. It was thought strange by many that the match was not yet consummated. But the quietly determined resistance on the part of the girl herself was not without some effect; and although there were many rumours afloat as to the boundless wealth of the ill-famed father and son, it was not yet an affair of absolute certainty that they were in possession of the secret of the transmutation of metals. So the match still hung fire, and Raymond received many bewitching smiles from the lady on the rare occasions when they met; and he thought nothing of the threat of Peter Sanghurst, being endowed with that fearless courage which does not brood upon possible perils, but faces real ones with quiet resolution.

John was sitting over his books in the pleasant western window one evening at the close of a hot September day, when he heard a quick footstep crossing the anteroom, and Raymond came in with a strange look upon his face.

"John," he said, before his cousin could ask a single question, "it has come at last!"

"What has come?"

"The visitation -- the sickness -- the scourge of God. I knew that Father Paul was looking into the future when he pronounced the doom upon this land. It has come; it is amongst us now!"

"Not here -- not in this very place! We must have heard something of it had it been so nigh."

"It has not yet reached this town," answered Raymond, the same strange light shining in his eyes that John had observed there from his entrance. "Listen, and I will tell thee all I myself know. Thou knowest that I have been to Windsor, to meet my brother who is there. Him I found well and happy, brave as ever, knowing naught of this curse and scourge. But even as we talked together, there came a messenger from London in hot haste to see thy father, good John. He had been straight despatched by the King with a message of dire warning. A terrible sickness, which already men are calling by the name of Black Death, has broken out in the south and west of the land, and seems creeping eastward with these hot west winds that steadily blow. It attacks not only men, but beasts and cattle -- that is, it seems to be accompanied by a plague something similar in nature which attacks the beasts. Word has been passed on by the monks of what is happening far away, and already a great terror has seized upon many, and some are for flying the country, others for shutting themselves up in their houses and keeping great fires burning around them. The message to thy father was to have a care for the horses, and to buy no new ones that might by chance carry the seeds of the sickness within them. Men say that the people of London are very confident that they can keep the sickness away from entering their walls, by maintaining a careful guard upon the city gates. At Windsor, I left the town in a mighty fear, folks looking already askance at each other, as if afraid they were smitten with the deadly disease. The news of its appearance is passing from mouth to mouth faster than a horseman could spread the tidings. It had outridden me hither, and I thought perchance thou mightest have heard it ere I reached home."

"Nay, I have heard naught; but I would fain hear more now."

"I know little but what I have already told thee," answered Raymond. "Indeed, it is but little that there is to know at present. The disease seems to me somewhat to resemble that described by Lucretius as visiting Athens. Men sometimes suddenly fall down dead; or they are seized with violent shiverings, their hair bristling upon their heads. Sometimes it is like a consuming fire within, and they run raving mad to the nearest water, falling in perchance, and perishing by drowning, leaving their carcases to pollute the spring. But if it do not carry off the stricken person for some hours or days, black swellings are seen upon their bodies like huge black boils, and death follows rapidly, the victim often expiring in great agony. I have heard that the throat and lungs often become inflamed before the Black Death seizes its victim, and that in districts where the scourge has reached, any persons who appear to have about them even a common rheum are cast forth from their homes even by those nearest and dearest, for fear they are victims to the terrible scourge."

"Misfortune makes men cruel if it do not bind them closer together. Raymond, I see a purpose in thy face -- a purpose of which I would know the meaning. That light in thine eyes is not for nothing. Tell me all that is in thine heart. Methinks I divine it somewhat already."

"Belike thou dost, good John," answered Raymond, speaking very calmly and steadily, "for thou knowest the charge laid upon me by my spiritual Father. 'Fear not, be not dismayed. A thousand shall fall beside thee, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee.' Such was the burden of his charge; and shall I shrink or falter when the hour I have waited and watched for all these years has come like a thief in the night? Good John, thou wast the first to teach me that there was a truer, deeper chivalry than that of the tourney or the battlefield. Thou wast the first to understand, and to make me understand, that the highest chivalry was that of our Lord Himself, when He laid down His life for sinners, and prayed for His enemies who pierced and nailed Him to the Cross. His words are ever words of mercy. Were He here with us today upon earth, where should we find Him now? Surely where the peril was greatest, where the need sorest, where the darkness, the terror, the distress blackest. And where He would be, were He with us here, is the place where those who would follow Him most faithfully should be found. Not all perchance; there be claims of kindred, ties of love that no man may lightly disregard: But none such ties bind me. I have but my brother to love, and he is out in the world -- he needs me not. I am free to go where the voice within calls me; and I go forth to-morrow."

"And whither goest thou?" asked John, in a low, awestruck tone.

"I go to Father Paul," answered Raymond, without hesitation, as one who has thought the matter well out beforehand. "Wherever the need is sorest, the peril greatest, there will Father Paul be found. And the Brotherhood stands in the heart of the smitten regions; wherefore at his very doors the sick will be lying, untended perchance and unassoiled, save in those places whither he can go. I fare forth at sunrising tomorrow, to seek and to find him. He will give me work, he will let me toil beside him; better than that I ask not."

John had risen from his seat. An answering light had sprung to his eyes as he had heard and watched Raymond. Now he laid his hand upon his cousin's arm, and said quietly:

"Go, then, in the name of the Lord; I too go with thee."

Raymond turned his head and looked full at his cousin, marking the thin, sunken lines of the face, the stooping pose of the shoulders, the hectic flush that came and went upon the hollow cheek; and seeing this and knowing what it betokened, he linked his arm within John's and commenced walking up and down the room with him, as though inaction were impossible at such a moment. And as he walked he talked.

"Good John," he said, "I would fain have thee with me; but I well know thou hast no strength for the task thou hast set thyself. Even the long day's ride would weary thy frame so sorely that thou wouldst fall an easy victim to the sickness ere thou hadst done aught to help another. Thou hast thy father, thy mother, and thy good uncle to think of. How sad would they be to hear whither thou hadst gone! And then, my cousin, it may well be that for thee there is other work, and work for which thou canst better prepare thyself here than in any other place. I have thought of thee as well as of myself as I have ridden homeward this day. Shall I tell thee what my thought -- my dream of thee was like?"

"Ay, tell me; I would gladly hear."

"I saw in my spirit the advance of this terrible Black Death; I saw it come to this very place. Dead and dying, cast out of their homes by those who would neither bury the one nor tend the other, were left lying in the streets around, and a deadly fear was upon all the place. And then I saw a man step forth amongst these miserable wretches, and the man had thy face, dear cousin. And he came forward and said to those