“Very certainly,” declared Alianora, with that slow, lovely, tranquil smile of hers, “I shall have my portion of tomorrow. I would have made you a king, and by and by the most powerful of all kings, but you followed after your own thinking, and cared more for messing in wet mud than for a throne. Still, this nonsense of yours has converted you into a rather distinguished looking old gentleman, so when I need you I shall summon you, with the token that we know of, Dom Manuel, and then do you come post-haste!”
Freydis said: “I would have made you the greatest of image-makers; but you followed after your own thinking, and instead of creating new and godlike beings you preferred to resurrect a dead servant girl. Nevertheless, do I bid you beware of the one living image you made, for it still lives and it alone you cannot ever shut out from your barred heart, Dom Manuel: and nevertheless, do I bid you come to me, Dom Manuel, when you need me.”
Manuel replied, “I shall always obey both of you.” Niafer throughout this while said nothing at all. But she had her private thoughts, to the effect that neither of these high-and-mighty trollops was in reality the person whom henceforward Dom Manuel was going to obey.
So the horns sounded. The gay cavalcade rode on, toward Quentavic. And as they went young Osmund Heleigh (Lord Brudenel’s son) asked for the gallant King of Navarre, “But who, sire, was that time-battered gray vagabond, with the tarnished silver stallion upon his shield and the mud-colored cripple at his side, that our Queens should be stopping for any conference with him?”
King Thibaut said it was the famous Dom Manuel of Poictesme, who had put away his youth for the sake of the girl that was with him.
“Then is the old man a fool on every count,” declared Messire Heleigh, sighing, “for I have heard of his earlier antics in Provence, and no lovelier lady breathes than Dame Alianora.”
“I consider Queen Freydis to be the handsomer of the two,” replied Thibaut, “but certainly there is no comparing either of these inestimable ladies with Dom Manuel’s swarthy drab.”
“She is perhaps some witch whose magic is more terrible than their magic, and has besotted this ruined champion?”
“It is either enchantment or idiocy, unless indeed it be something far higher than either.” King Thibaut looked grave, then shrugged. “Oy Dieus! even so, Queen Freydis is the more to my taste.”
Thus speaking, the young King spurred his bay horse toward Queen Freydis (from whom he got his ruin a little later), and all Alianora’s retinue went westward, very royally, while Manuel and Niafer trudged east. Much color and much laughter went one way, but the other way went contentment, for that while.
Part IV
The Book of Surcharge
To
Hugh Walpole.
“Soe Manuel made all the Goddes that we call mamettes and ydolles, that were sett ouer the Subiection of his lyfe tyme: and euery of the goddes that Manuel wolde carue toilesomelie hadde in hys Bodie a Blemmishe; and in the mydle of the godes made he one god of the Philistines.”
XXV
Affairs in Poictesme
They of Poictesme narrate how Manuel and Niafer traveled east a little way and then turned toward the warm South; and how they found a priest to marry them, and how Manuel confiscated two horses. They tell also how Manuel victoriously encountered a rather terrible dragon at La Flèche, and near Orthez had trouble with a Groach, whom he conquered and imprisoned in a leather bottle, but they say that otherwise the journey was uneventful.
“And now that every obligation is lifted, and we are reunited, my dear Niafer,” says Manuel, as they sat resting after his fight with the dragon, “we will, I repeat, be traveling every whither, so that we may see the ends of this world and may judge them.”
“Dearest,” replied Niafer, “I have been thinking about that, and I am sure it would be delightful, if only people were not so perfectly horrid.”
“What do you mean, dear snip?”
“You see, Manuel, now that you have fetched me back from paradise, people will be saying you ought to give me, in exchange for the abodes of bliss from which I have been summoned, at least a fairly comfortable and permanent terrestrial residence. Yes, dearest, you know what people are, and the evil-minded will be only too delighted to be saying everywhere that you are neglecting an obvious duty if you go wandering off to see and judge the ends of this world, with which, after all, you have really no especial concern.”
“Oh, well, and if they do?” says Manuel, shrugging lordily. “There is no hurt in talking.”
“Yes, Manuel, but such shiftless wandering, into uncomfortable places that nobody ever heard of, would have that appearance. Now there is nothing I would more thoroughly enjoy then to go traveling about at adventure with you, and to be a countess means nothing whatever to me. I am sure I do not in the least care to live in a palace of my own, and be bothered with fine clothes and the responsibility of looking after my rubies, and with servants and parties every day. But you see, darling, I simply could not bear to have people thinking ill of my dear husband, and so, rather than have that happen, I am willing to put up with these things.”
“Oh, oh!” says Manuel, and he began pulling vexedly at his little gray beard, “and does one obligation beget another as fast as this! Now whatever would you have me do?”
“Obviously, you must get troops from King Ferdinand, and drive that awful Asmund out of Poictesme.”
“Dear me!” says Manuel, “but what a simple matter you make
