“Sir Garin of the Golden Island,” said Richard, “sing Within its heart the nightingale—”
He sang—a golden song sung greatly.
“Ah!” sighed Richard Lion-Heart, and bade him sing When in my dreams thou risest like a star. “Ah God!” said Richard. “Some are kings one way, and some another! Sing now and lastly to-day, Fair Goal.”
Garin sang. All Angoulême that might gather in the great hall, in the galleries, in the court and passages without, listened with parted lips. Richard listened, and in some sort he may have felt what the singer felt of goals beyond goals, of glories beyond the loveliness and glories of symbols, of immortal union behind, beneath, above the sweetness of an earthly fact.
One was present who did feel what the singer felt, and that was the princess who sat as still as if she were carven there.... Garin of the Golden Island won the golden falcon that was the duke’s prize.
A week went by. A second began to drift into the past, winter day by winter day. Messengers now rode into Angoulême and through the castle gates, and were brought to Duke Richard. They came from the lords of Aquitaine encamped before Roche-de-Frêne, and they bore tidings of obedience. The host helped no longer in this war. When the messengers departed it was in act of lifting from all its encampments; even now it would be withdrawing from the lands of Roche-de-Frêne. Richard sent this word in state to the princess in Angoulême.
A day later there spurred at dusk into Angoulême a cloaked and hooded lord, behind him three or four, knights or squires. The following morn the first won through to Richard’s presence. The two were alone together a considerable time. Those who waited without the room heard rise and fall of voices.... At last came the lion’s note in Richard’s voice, but it changed and fell away. He was speaking now with an icy reasonableness. That passed to a very still, pointed utterance with silences between.... The other made passionate answer. Richard’s speech took a sternness and energy which in him marked the lion sublimated. Then a bell was struck; the attendants, when they opened the door, had a glimpse of a red-gold head and a working face, hook-nosed, with a scar upon its cheek.
Montmaure left Angoulême; he rode in savagery and bitterness, his spur reddening the side of his horse, the men with him labouring after. He rode, whether by day or by eve, in a hot night of his own. Red sparks flashed through it, and each showed something he did not wish to see. Now it was Richard whom he doubted if ever he could regain, and now it was Richard’s aid withdrawing—withdrawn—from the plain by Roche-de-Frêne. Cap-du-Loup—Cap-du-Loup would follow Aquitaine, might even now gustily have whirled away! Jaufre’s spirit whispered of other allies who might follow. The glare showed him the force of Montmaure that was left, spread thinly before Roche-de-Frêne. It showed Roche-de-Frêne, as last he had seen it, over his shoulder, when he rode with fury and passion to work in Angoulême a counter-miracle,—as he would see it now again,—Roche-de-Frêne grim and dauntless, huge giant seated on a giant rock. Jaufre, whelmed in his night-time, shook with its immensity of tempest. The storm brought forth lights of its own. They showed him Montmaure—Montmaure also in motion—cowering forth, unwinning, from this war. They showed him Audiart the princess. When he came to Angoulême he had learned there who had wrought the miracle.... An inner light that was not red or born of storm trembled suddenly, far above the great fens and marshes and hot, wild currents. That quality in her that had wrought the miracle—It was but a point, a gleam, but Jaufre had seen white light. The storm closed in upon him, but he had looked into a higher order, knew now that it was there. His huge, lower being writhed, felt the space above it.
Hours passed, days passed. He came through country which he had charred, back to Montmaure’s tents. The dragon lay shrunken; it could no longer wholly enfold Roche-de-Frêne. Jaufre found his father’s red pavilion, entered.
Count Savaric started up. “Ha! you rode fast! Speak out! Is it good or bad?”