What exactly the quality or qualities may be that bestow the power of inspiring a grande passion is one of the unfathomed mysteries of the heart. Vidal possessed every attribute that could charm—or so one would suppose—yet ladies only laughed at him affectionately, petted him, and gave their hearts elsewhere.
He is one of the most attractive and pathetic of the troubadours, and gives the impression of a sort of erratic genius. His naïveté is astonishing and charming, in spite of his outrageous habit of boasting of his successes in love and war.
One can easily picture the richly-dressed figure issuing from the great gates of Carcassonne on his beautiful horse—his horse was surely a noble one—followed by his accompanist and his servant, who carried his vielle; and we saw him in our mind's eye riding through the country on his way to Cabaret to pay homage to Loba de Pegnautier—and so he fades into the far away.
Alas, those beautiful towers and walls were destined to be battered and broken by de Montfort and his Crusaders, as we have seen. And it was not long after the taking of the city that the cause of the Albigenses was finally lost on the field of Muret, in this district. De Montfort was killed a little later by a stone at the siege of Toulouse, and a yell of joy and execration went up from the whole Midi which he had tortured so hideously.
We saw his tomb in the cathedral at Carcassonne—and wondered! Our feelings of hatred died away in the glory of that cathedral.
When we entered, we found ourselves suddenly bathed in waves of colour.
The entire east end of the building was a splendid expanse of stained glass stretching from floor to roof, and from wall to wall: the whole breadth of the cathedral, divided only by a few slender mullions. The transmuted glow of the afternoon sun was flooding the church, kindling the tints of the glass to the liquid glory of gems; and it was perfectly, radiantly still.
After all, it is unspeakable pity rather than hatred that madmen like de Montfort ought to inspire; for frenzied cruelty such as his implied a misery and darkness of spirit beyond the power of human speech to express, and surely, sooner or later, an awful expiation.
"But what opinion was it that the Albigenses held which made the Pope and the Crusaders treat them so ferociously?" cried Barbara, bewildered at the accounts of their cruelty and of de Montfort's specially hateful savageries. Well might she ask!
For one thing, the Albigenses would have it that three nails were used at the Crucifixion; whereas all true believers know that there were four——