Mary of Burgundy; or, The Revolt of Ghent

by G. P. R. James

The eyes of every one in the chapel, it is probable, were closed at that moment, for no one saw the small door by the side of the shrine thrown open. But the first who looked up was Mary of Burgundy; and a sudden cry, as she did so, called the attention of all the rest. They instantly perceived the cause of the princess's surprise and alarm; for close beside her, in the midst of the chapel, stood a tall powerful man, habited in the ordinary equipment of a man-at-arms of that day, with the unusual circumstance, however, of every part of his garb being of a peculiar shade of green; which colour was also predominant in the dress of half a dozen others who appeared at the door by the shrine.

He gave no one time to express their surprise. "Good Heaven!" he exclaimed, "do you not see the ground lightning coming up the hill! Fly, fly for your lives; it will be over the chapel in a moment. Matthew, catch up some of the women. Karl, take that one who has fainted. Let the men follow me as fast as possible, and we shall soon be out of the direction it is taking."

So saying, and without farther ceremony, he caught up Alice of Imbercourt in his powerful arms. One of his companions lifted the princess, and another raised the form of the young lady who had fallen from her horse in the morning, and whose terror had now cast her into a swoon, and, darting through the door by which they had entered, the Vert Gallant of Hannut and his companions passed out into that part of the forest which swept up to the back of the chapel. Striking on as fast as possible towards the east, he took his way over the other edge of the hill, in a direction opposite to that in which Alice had been looking. The lightning flashed around them as they went, the thunder roared loud at every step, and the rain, which had ceased for a time, began again to drop, at first slowly, but after a few minutes in a more heavy and continuous shower, which, pattering thick through the withered leaves of the wood, drenched the unfortunate hawking party to the skin.

"Thank God for that!" exclaimed the Vert Gallant; "this rain will drown yon accursed cloud, and we shall get rid of the ground lightning."

These were the only words he spoke; but, with rapid steps, he continued to bear on his fair burden for nearly a quarter of an hour, with apparently the same ease, and in somewhat of the same position, that a mother carries her child. Two of his sturdy companions followed loaded in the same way; and so complete was the helpless terror of the whole party who had accompanied Mary of Burgundy, that they yielded themselves passively, and without a word of inquiry, to the guidance of the green riders; a body of men who acknowledged no law, though a sort of generous and chivalric spirit amongst themselves seemed, in some degree, to supply the place of the authority they had cast off. It is true, indeed, that resistance or question would have been in vain; for the superior numbers of these free gentlemen of the forest set at defiance all opposition on the part of the princess's attendants, and a sort of taciturnity seemed to reign amongst them which did not at all encourage inquiry.

After proceeding steadily and rapidly for the space of time above mentioned, over a rough and uneven road, sometimes down the side of a wooded hill, where no unpractised foot could have kept its hold, sometimes through deep ravines, which the torrents of rain that were now falling had converted into water-courses, sometimes over the trunks of trees that had been felled and shattered by the fire of heaven, with the lightning flashing round their heads, and the thunder rolling above them, the Vert Gallant and his companions at length reached a deep dell, from one side of which rose up a steep and rocky bank, forming the base of the hill which they had just descended.

At the height of a few yards above the bottom of the valley, which was itself marshy and filled with long flags and rushes, was the mouth of a low-browed cave, to which the Vert Gallant immediately directed his steps. He was obliged to bow his head to enter; but within, it became more lofty; and, though it did not run above nine or ten yards into the mountain, the cavity afforded a complete shelter from the storm and rain. The moment he had entered, the leader of the free companions gently freed Alice from his arms; and then, in a low and respectful voice, he said--"You will here, fair ladies, find some security. Keep as far as you can from the mouth of the cave, and there is little fear of any danger. You, sirs," he continued, in a sterner tone, turning to the male followers of the princess, "should have known better than to have placed this lady--who, if I judge right, must be an object of no small solicitude to every subject of the House of Burgundy--in the most exposed and dangerous situation of the whole forest."

"Good-faith, Sir Green Knight," said the old gentleman who had accompanied the princess, "we certainly did not know that it was so dangerous, or we should neither have placed her in it, nor ourselves, as you may well suppose. And now, sir," he continued, with a voice the slight tremulousness of whose tone showed that he was not without some apprehensions of another kind; "and now, sir, that you have the lady in your power, be she princess or not, I trust that you will deal fairly and honourably with her. Our purses are, of course, at your disposal, as well as our jewels, &c.; but I give you notice that--"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the Vert Gallant, the beaver of whose helmet was still down, "talk not to me of purses, sir, and jewels! Madam," he continued, turning to the princess, "suffer not, I beseech you, the vain and vulgar fears of this old man to affect you for a moment: the Vert Gallant of Hannut takes no purses from wandering travellers, nor draws the sword against ladies, far less against the Princess of Burgundy. Rest here in safety, with your fair companions," he added, turning slightly towards Alice of Imbercourt; "and we, who have brought you hither, and have been your unseen attendants ever since you were flying your hawks by the side of the river, will guard you as well, or better, than if you were in your father's palace."

"I owe you many thanks, sir," replied Mary; "more, indeed, than I can at present express; for this dreadful storm has left my ideas somewhat confused. However, I am satisfied that to your prompt assistance I stand indebted for my life."