"Let him come," was the unhesitating answer.
Messire de Cressines had followed closely upon his messenger, and now made his appearance. He bowed respectfully to the ladies; and his compassionate looks sufficiently testified his distaste for the commission with which he was charged.
"Noble countess," he commenced, "bear witK me if I call upon you to accompany m.e without further delay. I assure you I have already allowed ' you all the time that it is possible for me to grant."
"I will follow you, Messire, on the instant," an swered Matilda; "but I trust that I may rely on your knightly honor to secure me against any unworthy treatment."
"I swear to you, lady," replied De Cressines, deeply moved by her resignation, "that so long as you are in my charge, you shall meet with nothing but respect."
"But your soldiers, Messire."
"As for my soldiers, lady, not a man among them, I assure you, shall address one word to you. Let us now be going."
Anxiously and tenderly the two friends embraced one another, while tears trickled down their cheeks. Often was the bitter word "farewell" repeated, and the last embrace given, only to be commenced anew. At length they left the room, and began to descend the stairs.
"Messire," said Maria, earnestly, "tell me, I entreat you, whither are you conducting my unhappy friend?"
"To France," he replied; and then turning to his soldiers:
"Mark my words well," he said, in a voice of stern command: "let no unseemly word pass the lips of any of you in this lady's presence. It is my will that she be treated in every respect as becomes her noble rank; bear this well in mind, or—you know me. Now let the horses be brought round."
The horses came; the last word, the last embrace were exchanged amid sobs and tears; Matilda was lifted upon her palfrey; Master Brakels and the two servants were released; the party hastened away through the streets of Bruges, and were soon far beyond its walls.
The night was dark, and all nature seemed to slumber in solemn stillness. Messire de Cressines rode at Matilda's side, scrupulously refraining, however, from intruding upon her grief by any attempt at conversation; so that probably the entire journey would have passed without the interchange of a word, had she not herself broken silence by asking:
"Is it in your power, Messire, to give me any information as to the fate which awaits me? And may I inquire by whose command I am thus forcibly removed from the residence I had chosen?"
"The order was given to me by Messire de Chatillon; but it is by no means impossible that it may have, in the first instance, proceeded from a still higher authority; for Compiegne is the place of your destination."
"Ah, so I might have imagined! It is Joanna of Navarre from whom this blow comes. It was not enough that she should imprison in her dungeons my father and all my kindred; her vengeance was not complete while I remained. Oh, Messire, you have an evil woman for your queen."
"A man should not dare say that in my presence with impunity, lady; nevertheless, it is true that our queen deals hardly with the Flemings, and especially with the House of Dampierre. From my heart I grieve for Messire Robert; still I may not hear my princess blamed."
"Forgive me, Messire; you speak like a true knight, and your fidelity demands my esteem. I will vent no more reproaches against your queen, and will even deem myself fortunate that in my calamity I have fallen into the hands of one who has the heart of a true and honorable knight."
“I should have rejoiced, noble lady, could I have been your conductor throughout the entire journey; but that is a pleasure which is denied me. It is but for some short quarter of an hour more that I shall have you under my charge; you will then proceed under other escort. That circumstance, however, can make no change for the worse in your condition; no French knight will fail to remember what is due to your sex, your rank, and your misfortunes."
"True, Messire, the nobles of France have ever borne themselves courteously and honorably toward us; but what assurance have I that I shall always be escorted in such wise as beseems one of my noble father's race?"
''You need be under no apprehension on that score, lady. I am now conducting you to the Castle of Male, where I am to deliver you over to the custody of the castellan, Messire de St. Pol. So far only does my mission extend."
The conversation continued till they found themselves in front of the castle, which for the present was their journey's end. The warder announced their arrival from his station above; the gates opened, and prisoner and escort passed on into the interior of the fortress.
CHAPTER IV
Months had now gone by since the surrender of Bruges. De Chatillon had appointed Messire de Mortenay governor of the city, and had himself returned to Courtrai; for he knew enough of the true feelings of the men of Bruges to feel himself ill at ease within their walls. Meanwhile the garrison which he had left behind to ensure submission indulged themselves in deeds of violence of every description—plundering, insulting, and wantonly annoying the citizens in a thousand ways. The foreign merchants, disgusted at this state of things, had mostly betaken themselves elsewhere; the commerce of the city fell off from day to day, and with it the prosperity of the manufacturing and working classes, whose sullen dislike of their new rulers had thus gradually ripened into active hatred, which waited only an opportunity to exhibit itself in open rebellion. The time to attempt this, however, with any hope of success was not yet come. The French garrison was too numerous, and every possible
