Vanished Halls and Cathedrals of FranceEdwards, George Wharton
History
Vanished Halls and Cathedrals of France
Edwards, George Wharton
Cathedrals -- France; Cities and towns -- France; France -- Description and travel
"My lord," answered the rider from the North, removing his bonnet, and
showing his fair hair in a golden mass about his shoulders, "the Sabbath
bells are ringing in your church for the service in praise of our Lord
and Saviour, Jesus Christ, for'tis the hour in which the voices of men
in holy canticle are sent on high asking forgiveness of our sins and
iniquities. This day is sanctified to Him above. I do bid you
now accompany me unto the throne of Grace, on bended knee, in all
humility.--For upon the offender shall descend the vengeance of the Most
High, forever and ever."
"In Satan's name, Sir Golden Locks!" answered St. Amand scornfully,
"thou hast a tongue like a ranting priest. What right hast thou to wear
a sword, pray?--I have no mind for canticles to-day!"
Loud laughed the troop of cavaliers at this, and then was heard the
voice of the rider in black from the South, whose great horse champed
the bit and tossed its head restlessly.
"Come, let us away, St. Amand! What care have we for monastery bells and
sniveling priests!--Let us to the noble chase for mass, with sound of
the winding horn for organ note!"
"Well said, Sir Red Crest," replied St. Amand, with a loud laugh and a
wave of his gauntleted hand. "_Ventre son gris!_ Let us away then!"
The whole troop sprang forward at the word. Over the hills, through
the ravines and deep ditches, and into the dark woods, ever rode the
strangers, one at the right and one at the left of St. Amand. On the
right, the fair young golden haired knight, and on the left, the black
clad sinister man with the crimson hood.
All at once appeared among the great trunks of the beech trees an
antlered deer white as the driven snow, which after one startled look at
the furiously riding troop of men, sped away like the wind. With winding
horn the hunters pursued it over the green meadows and up and down
the hills, trampling corn fields and peasant gardens under foot all
unmindful of what ill they did. Naught counted for these men but the
chase, and ever St. Amand headed the band, and on his right rode the
fair young blonde rider from the North and on his left the swarthy
knight from the South.
Finally, with trembling limbs the antlered deer slackened its speed
before the open door of a chapel in the midst of the wildwood. Here
stood the frightened animal, its fur flicked with bloody foam, unable
to stir a step further. From the open door of the chapel stepped a holy
friar, who placed a sheltering arm about the panting animal's neck, and
stood with uplifted arm warning back the band of hunters. In vain did
the fairhaired stranger plead with Amand to spare the deer, for the
jeering voice of the knight of the scarlet hood urged him on, and
dismounting from his horse Count St. Amand pushed aside the monk and was
about to run the animal through with his hunting knife, when there came
a burst of thunder sound that shook the earth as though the heavens had
fallen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account