It has seemed necessary to describe at some length persons who will play an important part in the course of this narrative. Events were, in fact, more ruled by the individual in feudal times than during any other period. The personal character of a noble exercised a preponderating influence around him for good or evil.
The Baron Guy, worn out, impoverished, and childless, was essentially one of those sensitive spirits, bruised by contact with men and events, which, having lost all elasticity where their own interests are concerned, direct their entire energy and their need of something to which to attach themselves, towards an object apparently distant or fragile. The baron had certainly an affection for his nephew; but as far as he alone was concerned, he would, have contented himself with leaving him to hunt peacefully on his domains, and helping him at need; but for his niece and her two children—handsome boys of five and eight years old respectively—he had a love amounting to adoration, and which formed the chief interest of his life. To him it seemed that for beings so dear in his eyes the castle de la Roche-Pont and its domain were a very pitiful heritage; and we may question whether even the duchy of Burgundy would have appeared to him worthy of their acceptance.
Ambitions of this indirect character, as they may be called, are the most insatiable and tenacious; they are of the kind stimulating to the most daring enterprises, because they are disinterested and irresponsible.
When the Baron Guy spoke of the fortresses built by the Franks in Palestine and Syria, he never failed to enumerate their towers, to describe their lofty walls, their fair and strong defences; and, invariably instituting a comparison between the wonderful fortresses of Margat, Krak, Antarseus, Laodicea, Antioch, Ascalon, Giblet, and many others, and the castle de la Roche-Pont, he exhibited the latter as a mere hovel fit only for serfs to hide their heads in.
When the baron's discourse took this turn—and it frequently did—Anseric's face clouded over. Eleanor looked down, blushed, and went to look for the children.
One evening, as the baron had been complaisantly expatiating on the advantageous site and solid construction of the castle of Krak, which he had seen commenced shortly before his departure from Syria, and which was to exceed in extent and strength the other Christian fortresses, Anseric suddenly interrupted the recital. "Uncle," said he, "the position of the castle de la Roche-Pont appears to me as good as that of the knights beyond sea; and if it is only a question of making more solid towers and higher walls than ours are, the thing is easy:—what do you say to it?" The baron did not raise his head. "Yes," he replied, "but you must resolve upon it." "Well, if I did resolve upon it?" "Perhaps you might, my good nephew; but he who builds a strong castle must expect to see it attacked." "Well, what then?" "Why, you will have to defend it, my good nephew." "And have we not men and ourselves?" "Yes, we shall indeed want men—men accustomed to fighting; and we shall want arms and mangonels; moreover, the work must be done quickly if you would avoid an attack before it is finished; and remember the duke's court is not far off, and he will perhaps be curious to come and see for himself what the Sire de la Roche-Pont is about." "The duke! the duke! what business has the duke to inquire whether I am rebuilding my castle? It is my affair, not his!" "The monks of the abbey, too, they will go and complain to my lord duke (though he shows no great deference for these white, black, or grey habits), and will persuade him that in building a stronger castle your object is to lay hands more readily on the wealth of the Church; whereas the duke prefers to keep the convent treasures for himself." "As to the monks," said Eleanor, "you need be under no anxiety about them; leave the matter in my hands, and I engage that they shall give you no trouble." "Eh! what what will you do, belle amie?" replied Anseric. "Will you let me act as I think best?" "By all means; as you please, belle amie."
It must be observed that Eleanor—as a wife and a lady of high descent—entered into the baron's views, though without letting it appear that she did so; and her most cherished desire was to leave to her firstborn the finest domain in the province. As allied to the house of Nevers, she had no liking for the duke; and the feudal bonds which connected her domain with the duchy of Burgundy were perhaps a greater annoyance to her than to her husband.
Next day Eleanor sent for the abbot, under the pretext of having something of importance to communicate to him. The abbot was a little man of pale complexion, with sharp black eyes, and always elegantly attired, as far as was permitted by the order of Cluny, which in point of costume was then very tolerant. He came to the castle on a handsome mule, richly caparisoned, followed by two monks, also mounted. Wine and sweetmeats were offered them on their arrival, and when the abbot was in Eleanor's presence, she spoke thus to him: "Sir abbot, you are aware in what veneration I hold your sacred abbey, and how much I desire to add something to its splendour; if my lord and myself have not done so hitherto, it is because we have been waiting for a favourable opportunity. My lord and myself are happy that such an opportunity presents itself while you are ruling the abbey, because we have a particular and profound esteem for you personally. While, then, what we propose to do has for its object the securing to ourselves the more especial protection of the holy apostles, Peter and Paul, it is also prompted by consideration for your own virtues and wise administration.
"Our castle is very old and ruinous; my lord is intending to have it repaired; and to draw down upon its walls the benediction of heaven, he thinks of building within its inclosure a handsome chapel, which will be served by your fraternity as you shall direct, and which will consequently be dependent on the abbey. An annual revenue of a hundred livres will be devoted to the maintenance of the chapel, to be raised from our estate of Try. Moreover, your dependency of Vieil-Bois is unsightly and dilapidated; my lord wishes to have it rebuilt, and to assign for its support, which is at present insufficient, twenty-five days' labour in such vineyards of our domain as are near that dependency."
At each of these announcements the abbot bent his head in courteous submission. "Lady," replied he, "the abbey of Saint Julien, founded by one of my lord's ancestors, will be delighted by the new donations you graciously promise. Though it has witnessed with sorrow the differences that have sometimes arisen between the lords of Roche-Pont and its abbots, it has never ceased to address prayers to God, to the Blessed Virgin, and the holy apostles Peter and Paul, for the illustrious house of its founders; and in the words that have proceeded to-day from your gracious mouth, what it will appreciate beyond the announcement of your intended gifts, is the assurance that its privileges and its independence will receive fresh guarantees of that protection which was accorded to it in the past."