Part 36

Argathona looked into his beseeching face with infinite tenderness and infinite love.

"What is there to forgive?" she whispered. "You were snared; you were betrayed; you believed me no more than the sweet-seeming of a dream. But because I was sure that you loved me, who loved you with all my heart, I came to set you free."

"Dear love," said Rainouart, "you are the bravest and the fairest of women, and I worship you with my soul. Your life is mine, my life is yours from now to the end of ends."

"Come from here," wooed Argathona softly; "quit the desecrated city, quit its shameful, shameless citizens. Come to the sweet, clean greenwood, my lover, for there we shall dwell together, free from ache and care, skilled in the secrets of the seasons, the promise of spring, and the gladness of summer, and the rapture of autumn; and the sun shall be our comfort by day, and the stars shall be our torches by night, and the green grass shall be our couch, and the leaves our curtains, and the free air our friend. And when winter comes with its snows and its rains, and its fury of winds, we shall hide in caves or the ruins of temples, and build us fires to warm us, and I will sing you songs of the world before the flight of the gods, and tell you tales of the days of gold. And we shall feed on the fruits of the earth, and all the beasts and birds of the forest shall be our companions, and the glory and the holiness of love shall be our inheritance for all our days."

Now while she spoke it seemed to the charmed senses of Rainouart that his spirit had achieved its best, and that he had passed forever from the mystic rose-garden holding the noble rose to his heart. And the rose of the world was a maiden, and her face was the face of Argathona.

"I will come with you to the greenwood," Rainouart answered, exultant. "Honor and truth and purity and the simple life abide there, and there we shall live and love till our pulses cease to beat. I love you forever."

And Argathona echoed him, radiant, "I love you forever," and she forgot that he was mortal and she immortal, and her face was near to his, and the lips of the lovers met. Them seemed they were already in the greenwood; them seemed they were alone; in their joy they had forgotten Athens; in their joy they had forgotten Esclaramonde.

Slowly the woman on the floor had edged her way nearer and nearer to the pair, and now her fingers closed upon the hilt of the fallen dagger. Argathona, her first kiss taken and given, released herself from her lover's clasp, and holding him by the hand turned and made to lead him towards the turret door. At that moment Esclaramonde gripped the dagger, and, leaping to her feet, sprang forward and stabbed the Prince of Athens in the side. Rainouart, taken unawares, under the impact of the duchess's body flung so fiercely against him, reeled, and, making to turn, tripped and fell towards the table, striking his head against it and dropping thence to the ground. Esclaramonde stooped over him to repeat her stroke, but she had not time. Argathona was upon her, eagle-swift, eagle-fierce, eagle-strong. She plucked the dagger from the duchess's clutch, and flung her across the room to fall in a heap by the door. Then Argathona, paying no more heed to her enemy, bent over Rainouart. He was unconscious from the head stroke; his wound was bleeding freely, and Argathona busied herself to stanch the flow, making little moans over him the while, like a mother over an ailing child. Their second meeting, like their first, was stained with blood. As for Esclaramonde, when she found herself unheeded she crawled to her feet and beat furiously upon the gong.

"Help! help! help!" she cried, and the sound of her screaming voice and the sound of the beaten brass reverberated horridly through the night.

XXIII

SIMON'S CHARGE

While the duchess was hammering at the gong and screaming furiously for help, and while from the rooms below, where revelry was toward, came now the noise of answering cries and clamor, the arras that masked the door of the turret was dashed aside and Simon sprang into the room. From where he waited for Argathona, below in the shadow of the tower, the shrieking of the duchess had reached his ears, and he lost no time in leaping up the turret stairs to see what had happened. In a moment his eyes took in the scene--the blood-stained weapon on the floor, the duchess screaming and beating on the gong, the young Lord of Athens stretched his length in blood, and Argathona bowed in care above him. Simon sprang to her side.

"Heaven's pity, maiden," he ejaculated, anxiously. "How are you betrayed?"

Argathona looked up at him with calm, melancholy eyes.

"My love is wounded," she answered quietly, "and he has swooned from his fall, being still weakened by the onslaught in the wood, but there is no fear for him."

The dryad had to speak close into Simon's ear, for the continued calling of the duchess and the growing clamor in the now aroused palace made it hard for him to hear.

From her bosom she drew a handful of leaves, and pressed them into Simon's palms.

"These are leaves of the herb of healing," she whispered. "I have set some on his hurt to stop the blood. Renew them soon, bruise them in his drink, and he will be whole within a day. I think it may prove that I cannot wait here, so you must tend him."

"I have sworn to serve you and stay with you--" Simon began, but Argathona stopped him.

"You serve me best in serving him," she remonstrated, "and when he is hale you must bring him to me safe and sound in the greenwood."

Simon promised with his heart, and would have promised with his lips but there was no time to say more. The billows of sound in the palace had swelled to a mighty rush and trampling of feet, and in another instant the door was flung open, and many knights came into the room--Count Ernault, Sir Guy, Sir Jaufre, Fernand Ximenes, and others who had been tasting the duke's cheer.

"Who calls for help?" Count Ernault asked, looking around him in amazement.

The Duchess Esclaramonde was standing full height with her hands extended in appeal.

"I call for help," she cried. "Where is the Duke of Athens?"

Count Ernault sprang forward to where Rainouart lay with Argathona and Simon supporting him.

"What ails the prince?" he asked, and as Simon growled back, "The she-devil from Thebes has stabbed him," Ernault turned to the knights who were hot upon his heels and bade them keep back and let the prince have air. The gentlemen of Thebes among the throng separated themselves from the others and ranged themselves behind their duchess, questioning her and whispering together. Fernand Ximenes was already by her side.

"Fear nothing," he said, softly, "I am your friend," and then he stood apart, silent and watchful. Along the corridor came the thunder of heavy feet.

"Here is the duke," cried Jaufre de Brabant, and even as he spoke Duke Baldwin staggered into the room. He had been eating hugely, he had been drinking deeply, he was flushed with meat and wine, and furious at the interruption which had taken him from table. He glared around him like a baited bull, seeing little at first, for his eyes swam with the drink he carried and the confusion of the shifting lights.