Sintram And His Companions Part 3

"Folko," cried she, in the softest tone, "thou knight without reproach!

I know that thou sparest the vanquished."

The knight sprang up, and with courtly grace stretched out his hand to the conquered youth, saying, "Thank the n.o.ble lady of Montfaucon for your life and liberty. But if you are so totally devoid of all goodness as to wish to resume the combat, here am I; let it be yours to begin."

Sintram sank, deeply ashamed, on his knees, and wept; for he had often heard speak of the high renown of the French knight Folko of Montfaucon, who was related to his father's house, and of the grace and beauty of his gentle lady Gabrielle.

CHAPTER 6

The Lord of Montfaucon looked with astonishment at his strange foe; and as he gazed on him more and more, recollections arose in his mind of that northern race from whom he was descended, and with whom he had always maintained friendly relations. A golden bear's claw, with which Sintram's cloak was fastened, at length made all clear to him.

"Have you not," said he, "a valiant and far-famed kinsman, called the Sea-king Arinbiorn, who carries on his helmet golden vulture-wings? And is not your father the knight Biorn? For surely the bear's claw on your mantle must be the cognisance of your house."

Sintram a.s.sented to all this, in deep and humble shame.

The Knight of Montfaucon raised him from the ground, and said gravely, yet gently, "We are, then, of kin the one to the other; but I could never have believed that any one of our n.o.ble house would attack a peaceful man without provocation, and that, too, without giving warning."

"Slay me at once," answered Sintram, "if indeed I am worthy to die by so n.o.ble hands. I can no longer endure the light of day."

"Because you have been overcome?" asked Montfaucon. Sintram shook his head.

"Or is it, rather, because you have committed an unknightly action?"

The glow of shame that overspread the youth's countenance said yes to this.

"But you should not on that account wish to die," continued Montfaucon.

"You should rather wish to live, that you may prove your repentance, and make your name ill.u.s.trious by many n.o.ble deeds; for you are endowed with a bold spirit and with strength of limb, and also with the eagle-glance of a chieftain. I should have made you a knight this very hour, if you had borne yourself as bravely in a good cause as you have just now in a bad. See to it, that I may do it soon. You may yet become a vessel of high honour."

A joyous sound of shawms and silver rebecks interrupted his discourse.

The lady Gabrielle, bright as the morning, had now come down from the s.h.i.+p, surrounded by her maidens; and, instructed in a few words by Folko who was his late foe, she took the combat as some mere trial of arms, saying, "You must not be cast down, n.o.ble youth, because my wedded lord has won the prize; for be it known to you, that in the whole world there is but one knight who can boast of not having been overcome by the Baron of Montfaucon. And who can say," continued she, sportively, "whether even that would have happened, had he not set himself to win back the magic ring from me, his lady-love, destined to him, as well by the choice of my own heart as by the will of Heaven!"

Folko, smiling, bent his head over the snow-white hand of his lady; and then bade the youth conduct them to his father's castle.

Rolf took upon himself to see to the disembarking of the horses and valuables of the strangers, filled with joy at the thought that an angel in woman's form had appeared to soften his beloved young master, and perhaps even to free him from that early curse.

Sintram sent messengers in all directions to seek for his father, and to announce to him the arrival of his n.o.ble guests. They therefore found the old knight in his castle, with everything prepared for their reception. Gabrielle could not enter the vast dark-looking building without a slight shudder, which was increased when she saw the rolling fiery eyes of its lord; even the pale, dark-haired Sintram seemed to her very fearful; and she sighed to herself, "Oh! what an awful abode have you brought me to visit, my knight! Would that we were once again in my sunny Gascony, or in your knightly Normandy!"

But the grave yet courteous reception, the deep respect paid to her grace and beauty, and to the high fame of Folko, helped to re-a.s.sure her; and soon her bird-like pleasure in novelties was awakened through the strange significant appearance of this new world. And besides, it could only be for a pa.s.sing moment that any womanly fears found a place in her breast when her lord was near at hand, for well did she know what effectual protection that brave Baron was ever ready to afford to all those who were dear to him, or committed to his charge.

Soon afterwards Rolf pa.s.sed through the great hall in which Biorn and his guests were seated, conducting their attendants, who had charge of the baggage, to their rooms. Gabrielle caught sight of her favourite lute, and desired a page to bring it to her, that she might see if the precious instrument had been injured by the sea-voyage. As she bent over it with earnest attention, and her taper fingers ran up and down the strings, a smile, like the dawn of spring, pa.s.sed over the dark countenances of Biorn and his son; and both said, with an involuntary sigh, "Ah! if you would but play on that lute, and sing to it! It would be but too beautiful!" The lady looked up at them, well pleased, and smiling her a.s.sent, she began this song:--

"Songs and flowers are returning, And radiant skies of May, Earth her choicest gifts is yielding, But one is past away.

The spring that clothes with tend'rest green Each grove and sunny plain, s.h.i.+nes not for my forsaken heart, Brings not my joys again.

Warble not so, thou nightingale, Upon thy blooming spray, Thy sweetness now will burst my heart, I cannot bear thy lay.

For flowers and birds are come again, And breezes mild of May, But treasured hopes and golden hours Are lost to me for aye!"

The two Norwegians sat plunged in melancholy thought; but especially Sintram's eyes began to brighten with a milder expression, his cheeks glowed, every feature softened, till those who looked at him could have fancied they saw a glorified spirit. The good Rolf, who had stood listening to the song, rejoiced thereat from his heart, and devoutly raised his hands in pious grat.i.tude to heaven. But Gabrielle's astonishment suffered her not to take her eyes from Sintram. At last she said to him, "I should much like to know what has so struck you in that little song. It is merely a simple lay of the spring, full of the images which that sweet season never fails to call up in the minds of my countrymen."

"But is your home really so lovely, so wondrously rich in song?" cried the enraptured Sintram. "Then I am no longer surprised at your heavenly beauty, at the power which you exercise over my hard, wayward heart! For a paradise of song must surely send such angelic messengers through the ruder parts of the world." And so saying, he fell on his knees before the lady in an att.i.tude of deep humility. Folko looked on all the while with an approving smile, whilst Gabrielle, in much embarra.s.sment, seemed hardly to know how to treat the half-wild, half-tamed young stranger.

After some hesitation, however, she held out her fair hand to him, and said as she gently raised him: "Surely one who listens with such delight to music must himself know how to awaken its strains. Take my lute, and let us hear a graceful inspired song."

But Sintram drew back, and would not take the instrument; and he said, "Heaven forbid that my rough untutored hand should touch those delicate strings! For even were I to begin with some soft strains, yet before long the wild spirit which dwells in me would break out, and there would be an end of the form and sound of the beautiful instrument. No, no; suffer me rather to fetch my own huge harp, strung with bears' sinews set in bra.s.s, for in truth I do feel myself inspired to play and sing."

Gabrielle murmured a half-frightened a.s.sent; and Sintram having quickly brought his harp, began to strike it loudly, and to sing these words with a voice no less powerful:

"Sir knight, sir knight, oh! whither away With thy snow-white sail on the foaming spray?"

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

"Too long have I trod upon ice and snow; I seek the bowers where roses blow."

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

He steer'd on his course by night and day Till he cast his anchor in Naples Bay.

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

There wander'd a lady upon the strand, Her fair hair bound with a golden band.

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

"Hail to thee! hail to thee! lady bright, Mine own shalt thou be ere morning light."

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers'

"Not so, sir knight," the lady replied, "For you speak to the margrave's chosen bride."

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

"Your lover may come with his s.h.i.+eld and spear, And the victor shall win thee, lady dear!"

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

"Nay, seek for another bride, I pray; Most fair are the maidens of Naples Bay."

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

"No, lady; for thee my heart doth burn, And the world cannot now my purpose turn."

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

Then came the young margrave, bold and brave; But low was he laid in a gra.s.sy grave.

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

And then the fierce Northman joyously cried, "Now shall I possess lands, castle, and bride!"

Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

Sintram's song was ended, but his eyes glared wildly, and the vibrations of the harp-strings still resounded in a marvellous manner. Biorn's att.i.tude was again erect; he stroked his long beard and rattled his sword, as if in great delight at what he had just heard. Much shuddered Gabrielle before the wild song and these strange forms, but only till she cast a glance on the Lord of Montfaucon, sat there smiling in all his hero strength, unmoved, the rough uproar pa.s.sed by him like an autumnal storm.