Book II Chapter 12 The Twilight of Magic by Hugh Lofting
The Abbess of Saint Bridget’s
The tow-path and the sparsely wooded river-land had now been left behind. On the open, windswept slope of the hill, horse and rider stood out against the deep, night-blue sky. The road leading up to the convent was well made and had not been hard to find. But it had soon become so steep in places that the impatient Giles had from time to time been forced to bring the pace down to a walk.
As he drew nearer to the hill-top his mind grew more and more uneasy and his heart seemed to be beating in a silly, fluttery sort of way. Not only was he feverishly worried about his success (many slips and mischances were yet possible, he knew), but the thought of seeing Barbara again, of taking her back to the palace, disquieted and upset him terribly. In her talk with Mollie he had thought he heard sounds of weeping. What would be her mood when he met her? He would have to be on his guard against his own feelings, against woman’s tears, against anything and everything.
No, this was something that had to be done and done quickly. The fewer words he used over it the better. His own wishes and opinions must be downed and silenced. He would come to her as nothing more than one of His Majesty’s servants with orders to carry out.
But what if she should refuse to go back with him?
Well, he would have to be stern—that’s all—stony-hearted and stern. No weakness now.
The poor man’s fear that, with the end of the quest so near at hand, his love for this beautiful girl might interfere with his duty to the King was very real. So that he was not only all prepared to be stern and businesslike, but he actually had his teeth set with determination when at last he did see her.
This was exactly where he had expected. At the very top of the hill he had found a flat lawn, very wide and smooth, stretching the whole way along the front of the convent buildings. He could not yet see where the main gate was. But he heard Mollie bark in the distance. By following this sound he soon came upon a beautiful archway in a high stone wall, curving over a wooden door. Near by he saw a white figure seated on the grass, holding a growling black spaniel by the collar. His quick-beating heart gave one enormous thump and then raced on again faster than ever. So, she had not yet gone in!
He would no doubt have felt grateful for his famous luck if he had not been so taken up with being stiff and stern. He even tried to avoid looking at her as he swung down from his saddle and came a step or two nearer. At this distance Mollie recognized him; and breaking out of her mistress’s grasp, she rushed bounding round his knees, wagging and wriggling with joy.
The sound of singing came faintly from the chapel. Midnight stretched down her head and cropped the grass.
‘Countess—’
He stopped, with a question in his voice. He did not quite know why. Instantly the white figure leapt up and ran to him.
‘Giles! How did you know I—’
‘Madame,’ he broke in (the harshness in his voice silenced her), ‘the King has sent me to you.’
She came a step nearer still, hesitatingly. Even in that dim light Giles could see the glorious beauty of her face puzzling over this awkward greeting, this unfriendly manner of his. He half turned his head and, looking away towards the distant sea, spoke on quickly.
‘His Majesty wishes you to return to the castle at once.’
Over his shoulder he heard her answer, low yet clear.
‘But I do not wish to come.’
Giles’s jaw set a little firmer still.
‘Your Ladyship must please understand. My orders were to find you and bring you back.’
‘Bring me back!’ Her voice rose slightly, both pride and annoyance in its tone. ‘Am I then no more than an old coat or something, that the King’s Finder has been sent out to fetch me in? I have journeyed here to enter the nunnery of Saint Bridget. I will not come with you.’
Her anger was what saved him. He was still fighting the great longing in his heart, a longing now that cried out to him to clutch her in his arms, to tell her how madly happy he was to see her again, to find her safe and well. And if she had shown tears or begged him to take her side in this matter, he might easily have given way. Then, in spite of all determinations, his errand of trust had likely come to failure at the last. But her wrathful rebellion against the orders of the King helped him play his part of sternness and duty. Showing an anger of his own to cover other feelings, he suddenly turned and looked her full in the eye.
‘Very well, my Lady. If you would put it so, you must not blame me for the consequences. You force me to place you under arrest.’
For one moment she stared back at him defiantly. Then she ran swiftly to the convent gate and pulled at something that hung beside the door. Instantly a bell clanged out into the stillness of the night. Its ringing dwindled slowly, then came to rest in silence.
‘Your Ladyship has saved me the trouble,’ said Giles. ‘I was about to do that myself.’
His surprising words seemed to change her mood a little.
‘But you don’t understand,’ she cried. ‘You know nothing of my reasons for—’
Quickly he interrupted her.
‘It is not my business to learn your reasons. Those you can tell to the King. My orders were only to find you and bring you back.’
From within the courtyard behind the wall they heard hurrying footsteps—then the rattle of bolts. The heavy gate swung slowly inwards. In the opening stood a Sister, peering out at them with a lantern in her hand. Giles immediately stepped forward.
‘May I speak with the Mother Abbess?’ he asked.
‘She is in the chapel now, Sir, at vespers,’ the nun answered. ‘If you will wait till the service is over I will ask her.’
‘I am sorry, but waiting is impossible,’ said Giles. ‘Pray take her my regrets for this disturbance and say the reason for my coming here is most urgent.’
The Sister hurried away.
While she was gone Giles moved back and pretended to busy himself with the trappings of his horse. He felt that the less talk he had with Barbara from now on, the better. But presently she came to his side.
‘What do you want the Abbess for?’ she asked. ‘What do you mean to do with me?’
‘Nothing very terrible,’ he answered, tugging at a strap. ‘But I beg your Ladyship not to interfere in it, nor to oppose me farther. If you do, you will have to answer for it to the King. You are under arrest. It will be no good to raise an uproar or to make a scene. I have sent word that I will bring you to the palace by tomorrow evening. We will have to hasten, but I will do my best to see that your Ladyship travels as comfortably as may be.’
She said no more in answer. But her manner by no means looked like giving in.
Giles was therefore on his guard. And when the gate swung open again he was quick to get back to it ahead of her. This time there were two nuns standing in the archway.
‘Mother Abbess,’ said he, addressing the older one, ‘I crave your pardon for calling you from your prayers. But I do assure you I am forced to. I have to take this lady to the capital at once and I need your aid.’
Barbara made a step forward into the light of the lantern. The Abbess’s keen eyes looked at her searchingly. Perhaps it was some resemblance to her mother, or the look of annoyance on her face, that made the Abbess pause a moment before she answered.
‘But does—er—does she wish to go with you?’ she asked presently.
‘No, I do not,’ said Barbara sharply.
‘I am sorry,’ said Giles. ‘But the lady’s wishes on that point cannot be considered.’
‘And why not, pray?’ the Abbess demanded quickly. ‘What authority have you to take her about the country against her will?’
‘The King’s authority,’ said Giles. ‘I am an officer in His Majesty’s Household. I carry with me letters of Royal Warrant, should you wish to see them. If need be, I can command you to render me aid in the King’s service. But this, I am sure, knowing the loyalty of your Order, will not be necessary. I want a coach with a good team of horses, a driver, and a woman to act as maid to this lady. All with the greatest possible speed, Madame, if you please.’
The larger abbeys and nunneries in those days were very important places, often almost like small townships within themselves, with farms, many servants, workers and everything needful for the upkeep of life. And Giles knew well that the Abbess of Saint Bridget’s could, just by a word of command, provide him with all he had asked for. It would be very awkward, however, on account of time, if she should refuse him. The heads of big religious houses were sometimes very independent and had more than once in history shown defiance to the Crown. He was, therefore, watching her with eager impatience while she thought a moment before answering.
‘What is your name?’ she asked at length.
‘Sir Giles Waggonwright, the King’s Finder,’ said he.
Again the Abbess glanced at Barbara; then her sharp but kindly eyes searched this young man’s face in the lantern’s wavering glow. Through many years she had grown skilful in judging people by their looks.
‘Reverend Mother,’ said Giles earnestly, ‘I beg of you, do not deny me. It will only mean I must seek help at the nearest military post and take this young lady away from you under armed guard. She must be at the palace by sunset tomorrow. I pledge you my word no harm shall come to her.’
It seemed the Abbess found nothing to distrust in the determined face of the King’s Finder. For suddenly, with a gracious smile, she stepped forward and took Barbara by the arm.
‘It looks as if you would have to go, my dear,’ she said gently. ‘I will send Sister Monica, as well as my own niece, to keep you company. The gardener’s wife will act as your maid. Do not forget that if you wish to visit us again, we shall be glad to see you at Saint Bridget’s.’
She turned. On her way in she gave some orders to the nun at her side, who at once hastened ahead of her.
Soon more lanterns began to appear. In their dim light figures gathered, whispered and hurried to and fro. The other half of the big door was swung back. Hoofs stamped. Chains jingled. From a stable on the left side of the courtyard a pair of horses were led out on to the cobbled paving. Then a coach was pulled into position, facing the open gates. The horses were backed in and harnessed. A driver with a whip in his hand climbed to the seat. The Abbess appeared again with the heavily cloaked figures of three women following her. She beckoned Barbara into the yard, opening the coach door herself. With no sign of anger or resistance left in her, the Countess came obediently forward. She smiled a farewell to the Abbess and stepped into the carriage. Mollie jumped in and took a seat beside her. The three women followed and the door closed.
Outside on the lawn, the King’s Finder mounted his horse, with a deep sigh of relief. And as the coach rattled out through the gate, he touched Midnight on the neck and fell in behind.