"Nay, nay!" she said, more fearful of Jodelle discovering the page's horse still in the stable, than even of losing her reckoning--"nay! it should not be said that any one, however uncivil, was obliged to fetch his own horse. She had a boy for her stable, God wot!--Ho! boy!" she continued, screaming from the door, "bring up the bay horse for the gentleman. Quick!--As to the reckoning, sir, it comes only to a matter of six sous."
The reckoning was paid, and before Jodelle could reach the stable to which he was proceeding, notwithstanding the landlady's remonstrance, his horse was brought up, whereupon he mounted, and set off at full speed.
The moment the clatter of his horse's feet had passed away, the pile of fagots and brushwood rolled into the middle of the floor, and the half-suffocated page sprang out of his place of concealment. His face and hands were scratched and torn, and his dress was soiled to that degree, that the old lady could not refrain from laughing, till she saw the deadly paleness of his countenance.
"Get me a stoup of wine, good dame--get me a stoup of wine--I am faint and sad--get me some wine!" cried the youth. "Alack! that I, and no other, should have heard what I have heard!"
The old lady turned away to obey, and the page, casting himself on a settle before the fire, pressed his clasped hands between his knees, and sat gazing on the embers, with a bewildered and horrified stare, in which both fear and uncertainty had no small part.
"Good God! what shall I do?" cried he at length. "If I go back to Sir Guy, and tell him that, though he ordered me to make all speed to the Count d'Auvergne, I turned out of my way to see Eleanor, because the pedlar told me she was at La Flêche, he will surely cleave my skull with his battle-axe for neglecting the duty on which he sent me." And an aguish trembling seized the poor youth, as he thought of presenting himself to so dreadful a fate.
"And if I go not," added he thoughtfully, "what will be the consequence? The triumph of a traitor--the destruction of my brave and noble master--the ruin of the prince's enterprise. I will go. Let him do his worst--I will go. Little Eleanor can but lose her lover; and doubtless she will soon get another--and she will forget me, and be happy, I dare say;" and the tears filled his eyes, between emotion at the heroism of his own resolution, and the painful images his fancy called up, while thinking of her he loved. "But I will go," he continued--"I will go. He may kill me if he will; but I will save his life, at least.--Come, good dame! give me the wine!"
The poor page set the flagon to his lips, believing, like many another man, that if truth lies in a well, courage and resolution make their abode in a tankard. In the present instance, he found it marvellous true; and within a few minutes his determination was so greatly fortified, that he repeated the experiment, and soon drank himself into a hero.
"Now, good dame!--now, I will go!" cried he. "Bid thy boy bring me my horse. And thank God, all your days, for putting me in that closet; for owing to that, one of the most diabolical schemes shall be thwarted that ever the devil himself helped to fabricate."
"The Lord be praised! and St. Luke and St. Martin the apostates!" cried the hostess; "and their blessing be upon your handsome face!--Your reckoning comes to nine sous, beau sire, which is cheap enough in all conscience, seeing I have nourished you as if you were my own son, and hid you in the cupboard as if you were my own brother."