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Read Ebook: Tales from the Operas by Pardon George Frederick Editor
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Ebook has 806 lines and 24212 words, and 17 pages
"The fiend!" cried the minstrel, falling on his knees.
"An hour for thy prayers, and the hour following thy purgatory! The next tree shall bear thee as its fruit."
"Good, my prince; verily we have come all the way to see thee, bearing a holy message."
"Message--we--who is your companion?"
"She who shall be my wife, if thou wilt let me live, master."
"Good master."
"Thou art courageous!"
Some well-meaning man-at-arms here gruffly pulled the young minstrel away; and the last he saw of Robert was that he turned inquiringly to the knights, and that they all seemed eager to please him and be near him.
Yet quickly he turned from the knights, as he heard the footsteps of several men approaching, and with them the patter of a pair of light feet.
Then came in the midst of those rough, shaggy men-at-arms, a young, pure-looking girl. She had one of those faces not eminently beautiful, and yet at which you gaze with a kind of awe; holiness too proud to ask the aid of mere beauty! Men seemed to grow better as they looked upon this holy young face.
"Alice, dear Alice--my sister Alice!"
"My prince--my prince!" and the young creature flung herself upon the ground near Robert.
"'Tis my sister, gentlemen--our breath mingled on the same breast." And stooping he lifted Alice from the ground.
Strange--his face seemed much lighter than it was, and his very voice happier and freer.
As for his companion, whom he called Bertram, he rose from the table, kept his eyes from the girl, and moved away--farther away--farther away--till he was lost to sight in the midst of the tents.
The knights and gentlemen about seemed to know that she would speak to him privately, for they withdrew, and soon left a wide space between themselves and the girl Alice.
"Prince, Alice. Call me not prince. For I am to thee ever brother. So, thou hast come to see the exile? I have striven to die since last I saw dear Normandy; but I bear a charmed life, methinks. And now here, Alice, love itself is my enemy. But thou dost not say why thou hast come."
"My duty hath brought me hither."
"Thou wast ever dutiful."
"The duty I owe to a dear mistress bringeth me to thee."
"Thou dost speak of my dear mother whom heaven bless."
"Then is she blessed in heaven."
"She--my mother!"
"And when thou shalt next see her, thou shalt be in heaven too."
"Dead--dead--my mother dead!"
As he spoke Bertram glided from behind one of the tents, but the next moment was lost again. He turned his face angrily away as tears fell from the young knight's eyes.
"'Go,' thy mother said, 'go, my Alice, to him, and say that, though he has made my heart bleed all his life, I love him heartily; that my last thoughts are for him; that I will pray for him and watch him through his dark hours of temptation. Tell him a terrible power enwraps him, but thou--thou,' and she laid her hands upon my head, O brother--'thou shalt be his guardian spirit. I know that I may will it so. The hour must come when between me and the evil I have named my son must make his choice. Be thou near him then, O Alice, be thou near him, that he may pass surely on the narrow way to me!' Then she lay down, whispering that she would her son were by to close her eyes--and so thy mother died."
He hung his head and wept for pity and for love of that dear mother.
"You weep, my brother. I have yet more to tell thee. Before she spoke these last sad words, she placed a paper in my hands--her will--and she said, 'Bid him read it when he thinks he is worthy to read it.'"
"That is not now, Alice. Keep this will; something tells me 'tis best in thy hands. Read my mother's will now! now that I am borne down with sorrow, against which I do rebel with all my strength. And, sister Alice--I love a lady who, I fear, doth dread me."
"Dread thee?"
"She is the princess of Sicily. Her father looked on me with but a troubled eye--and so I strove to steal her. But they fought bravely for their princess, and they saved her. I was down--down upon the ground, and I feared never more to see my own dear land--when a noble knight came to my rescue and delivered me. They fell before his arm as the blades of corn before the reaper. He saved me and he is my dear friend, my dear loving friend!"
As he spoke, Bertram was standing not far off; his face wearing a grave, almost a gracious smile, and his white right hand high above him playing with the folds of a flame-red tent.
"And the princess, brother--does she love thee?"
"Alas, sister--how should I know?"
"Nay--write to her."
"And who shall be my herald?"
"Who--I will be thy herald!"
He called quickly, and from his tent came a page. To this child he gave a rapid order, and the next minute he was writing a letter to the lady whom he would have stolen. When he had finished, he pressed the hilt of his dagger on the seal, as was the custom of the day.
"Go--sister of mine--fortune be with you!"
As she turned, she saw the knight, Bertram.
She was not afraid of him, but she seemed to know he was her enemy.
"Brother--who is that man?"
"Ah--Bertram! This is the noble friend I told thee of--wherefore dost thou regard him so strangely?"
"At home, in our village church, there is a picture which tells how the Archangel conquered Satan; and methinks I see in this man a resemblance to--"
"The Archangel?"
"No, verily, the other."
"Ha!--go, sister."
She obeyed him with a kind of fearless fear--a courage mixed with a desire to avoid this man.
"Thou art on good terms with thy conquest."
"Gratitude, Bertram."
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