Heroines of the CrusadesBloss, C. A. (Celestia Angenette)
History
Heroines of the Crusades
Bloss, C. A. (Celestia Angenette)
Crusades; Crusades -- Biography; Women -- Biography
A moment after they turned an angle in the road, and the boy putting the
whistle to his mouth sounded a sharp note, and a party of huntsmen,
apparently in quest of game, darted across the path, while one shouted, as
if to his companions, "To the right, the game lies by the Hermit's Cross."
The page immediately turned his palfrey, motioning to silence, and led off
into the path through the wood, and after several hours' hard riding
arrived at the appointed place of rendezvous.
At the foot of a large wooden cross, weather-stained and somewhat decayed,
sat a monk, closely robed in gown and cowl, who rose at their approach,
saying in a low voice, "The benison of our Lady of Walsingham rest upon
you;" and with great strides conducted them deeper and deeper into the
wood, till they came to a hunter's lodge, which, though much in ruins,
gave signs of having been recently repaired, with some view to the rank
and comfort of those who were to occupy it.
The prince made light of the trifling inconveniences to which they were
subjected, remarking, "A soldier has little choice of resting-place." But
poor Eva, wearied almost to death from the unaccustomed fatigues of the
day, now that the stimulus of excitement was over, had leisure to think of
her own situation; and scarcely able to restrain her tears, crept silently
to her couch of fern, and beneath the russet covering, soon slept from
very exhaustion. The prince and the monk meanwhile conferred apart in low
tones, concerting measures for present and future security.
"Gloucester is with us," said the priest, "and Sir Roger de Mortimer has a
party of picked men on the road to Evesham. My band have charge of every
ford and pass between this and Hereford. The scouts report that
Leicester's men are much wasted by their long residence on the Welsh
frontier, and my jolly fellows are this night engaged in breaking down the
bridges across the Severn. For we churchmen have a fancy, that baptism is
necessary to wash away the sins of rebels."
"I fear not all the rites of the Church can absolve the black-hearted
traitor," returned Edward, with great asperity. "But proceed with thy
news."
"The country is beset with Leicester's spies," continued the monk, "else
had I been less guarded in my communications with thee. Bands of men are
daily mustering in every direction, making the high-roads unsafe for
honest travellers like myself."
"Thou wilt join our forces with the brethren of thy chapter," suggested
the prince.
"Our chapter are somewhat too much tinctured with heresy to hail the
ascendency of the odious De Montforts," replied the monk; "thou mayst,
therefore, depend upon their most earnest intercessions in thy behalf.
But for me, I must restore pretty one," nodding his head significantly
towards the spot where Eva lay asleep, "to his mistress. It is a matter,
not of selfish interest alone, that the loyal page be restored unharmed."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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