Orrain: A Romance

by S. Levett Yeats

CHAPTER XII

A WRITER OF COMMENTARIES

I rode sullenly on, my eyes between my horse's ears. Pierrebon, who loved to wag his tongue, once or twice tried to open a talk, but finding his efforts useless dropped away back. It was not possible to go fast, as the horses were worn, and had to be saved for the stretch of nearly six leagues that lay between us and Poitiers, which, however, I had made up my mind to reach ere the gates were closed for the night. Despite all our care we were delayed by Pierrebon's nag casting a shoe, and this meant a stop for nearly an hour at a small hamlet, the name of which I forget. At length matters were righted, and we continued our journey. The day was hot and overcast. Towards sunset the clouds increased, and ever and again the rumbling of thunder gave warning of an approaching storm. We were, however, near Poitiers by this, and could see the spires of the churches and the black mass of the city. I drew rein for a moment to look, and almost felt as if my task were done, when Pierrebon exclaimed:

"Allons, monsieur! it has come!"

And with a vengeance, too. First a few warm drops, then a blaze of lightning, a crash of thunder, and then rain in torrents. It became dark, and it was with the greatest difficulty that we could find our way. But at length we reached the Pont Joubert, and passing the Chapel of the Holy Virgin, raised in memory of the miraculous preservation of the city during the war of the hundred years, we entered Poitiers. It is true we had reached it, but it seemed as if our difficulties had only begun. What with the darkness and the wind blowing the rain straight in our faces, so that we could barely see, it would have been hard for us to have found our way anywhere, even if we knew the city, but neither Pierrebon nor I had been in Poitiers before. In the basement of the guard-tower flanking the gate lights were burning, and a group of soldiers were sitting at a table playing at dice, whilst a few stray travellers were huddled together at the entrance, waiting, perhaps, for the storm to pass, and continually peering out into the darkness from their shelter, if such it could be called. I made my way there, and had to shout twice ere I was heard, so great was the noise of the tempest. Finally the ancient of the gate came up, and I asked him for the nearest inn. He answered, civilly enough:

"'Tis but a little way, monsieur. Go straight down the Rue du Pigeon Blanc, past Ste. Radegonde, and the Filles de Notre Dame, there in the place St. Simplicien——"

"But I know nothing of Poitiers. How am I to find my way?"

To this he shrugged his shoulders and laughed; but at this juncture a boy stepped forth out of the group at the door and offered to guide us to the inn. This offer I accepted, and with a word of thanks to the ancient we went on—the last thing we heard being hoarse orders shouted out to close the gates. Our way was lit by continuous flashes of lightning, and by one of these, lasting longer than usual, I saw on a hill which overlooked the Church of Ste. Radegonde, her right hand outstretched as if invoking a blessing on the city, the colossal Virgin of Poitiers all shining with light—light that seemed to flame back from the statue against the storm. So impressive was it that Pierrebon crossed himself, and the boy sank on his knees in the water that hummed along the street with an "Ave, ave!"

The sight was one I have never forgotten, and has often given me subject for reflection, so that I am firmly convinced that even if a God did not exist the imagination of man would conjure one up for his worship.

It was lucky that we found a guide, for, short as the distance was, I doubt if we would have found our way that night to the hostel of the Elephant, for so the inn was called. Once there I gave the boy a coin, bidding him get something to eat, for he looked as though he needed it, and told him to wait, as I would require him shortly. I determined to halt there until the storm had subsided a little, and inquired where Montluc resided. He had but lately come, I was informed, and was for the present temporarily lodged in the priory of the Capuchins. So, taking the opportunity whilst I waited for the rain to diminish, I had some refreshment, and attended to my arm, which was still painful. I then made arrangements with the landlord for another horse, as nothing would have induced me to ride my own poor beast farther that night. This being settled, I waited for half an hour or so, when the storm somewhat abated, though the wind was still high, and there was a sharp drizzle. Then mounting the hired horse, and giving the boy a lantern I had borrowed, I bade him guide me to the priory of the Capuchins.