Maugis, ye sorcerer from ye ancient French : a wonderful tale from ye writings of ye mad savant of ye Maison Maugis in ye olde citie of Mouzon, France
effect of increasing the grief and rage of his son Renaud, who hastened
to see his people and asked them to swear to enter into a war against
the emperor at the first favorable moment. They consented with loyalty.
Maugis, the eldest of the four sons of Aymon and nephew of the murdered
duke, was most ardent in his desire to punish such an act of treachery,
and it is from this point the real history of Maugis begins.
CHAPTER IV.
Charlemagne had no sooner been apprised by Ganelon of the misfortune
to the Duke de Beuves d’Aigremont, then he expedited a courier to the
duchess to assure her of his profound regret, and above all to give
her to understand that, although for sufficient reasons he had granted
grace to the murderers, it was not by his means, either directly or
indirectly, that the infamy was consummated.
The duchess, however, while appreciating the step of the emperor, said
to the messenger:
“Go tell thy master that to avenge my husband is now my sole desire;
that to accomplish this end I should sacrifice my family, my fortune
and my life. I shall from this day henceforth regard the carrying out
of this project a solemn duty.”
In the meantime the Duke d’Aymon and his sons, appreciating the fatal
consequences of a war to both parties, besought the Duchess d’Aigremont
to allow them to go to Charlemagne and make an appeal to him for
satisfaction for the injury done the family.
Charlemagne received the duke and his sons graciously. He understood
the motive that had led them to preserve neutrality during the late
war and he now entertained no resentment to them for it. On that
account he gave the duke and his sons to understand that they occupied
a high place in his favor.
Notwithstanding the fair words of the emperor, the five ambassadors
feared he would evade the question. Ganelon had not been summoned.
Aymon represented to the emperor the enormity of the crime and the
disloyalty of Ganelon, as well as the bad effect it would have on the
army to pardon such a traitor.
The emperor said in reply: “I well know, my noble duke, that what thou
sayest is just and reasonable. I also assure thee that I have already
pardoned Ganelon,” and, he added sternly: “Having given our royal word,
we shall maintain it, it being our good pleasure to do so.”
The Duke d’Aymon made no reply to these plain words and with flushed
face retired.
Maugis, however, could not restrain himself and said boldly to the
emperor:
“Sire! if thou wilt not render justice to this traitor Ganelon, then
there be nothing left for us to do but to take up arms and secure
justice for ourselves.”
At these defiant words, spoken in a firm tone, a great hush fell on the
courtiers there assembled.
Griffon, who stood near the door, said in an undertone to a grizzled
captain of the guard:
“Oho! that’s a brave young cock—but watch and see his comb cut.”
Charlemagne’s brow darkened and his eyes flashed; he half rose and
thundered: “What!” cried he, “have you forgotten the obligations thou
art under to me? If it were not for thy father I should order for thee
the punishment you deserve. If I ever hear that another word from you
on this subject has escaped your lips you will have good cause to
regret the business.”
Maugis then saw that he had gone too far and hastened to offer his
excuses to the emperor, and Charlemagne finally, his anger passing,
invited them to dinner.
It was a trying moment and it was no ordinary man who could calmly face
the anger of the great emperor.
Griffon nudged his companion and whispered: “Seest thou that?”
The young knight was turning away somewhat abashed when casually
glancing at the ladies-in-waiting, a soft pair of blue eyes caught his
own, and forgetting instantly the exciting incident in which he had
just had a part, with a sudden thrill he recognized the lady of the
tournament, whose ribbon knot he even then wore next his heart and
whose face had never left him, either in his wakeful moments or in his
dreams.
Momentary as the glance was, he read in those beautiful orbs the
deepest sympathy, and the happy light that sprang into his own eyes
told the fair maiden more than even words could have done.
Momentary as the eye interview was before the modest gaze of the
beautiful girl fell before the ardent look of Maugis, there was one
who had seen it and understood. It had caused the bitterest feelings
of hatred and jealousy to surge in his black heart. That man was the
treacherous Ganelon, who lurked in the rear of a group of courtiers
while the exciting events just chronicled, that so nearly concerned
himself, were occurring.
He had in vain pressed his love upon the Princess Yolande, who
had not long before arrived from her home in the south to act as
lady-in-waiting on the empress. She had repulsed his unwelcome
attentions in every way her gentle nature would allow, but the coarse
and persistent villain would brook no rebuff.
Meanwhile the court had adjourned to the banquet hall, where these
unpleasant happenings were soon forgotten by all but a few of the
most concerned. After the emperor had arisen from the table and had
withdrawn at the conclusion of the banquet, Prince Berthelot, the
nephew of Charlemagne, wishing to show some courtesy to the Aymon
family, invited Maugis to a game of chess, a game much in vogue in
those days.
Maugis courteously accepted, and they assumed their seats at the
board while the courtiers gathered around to witness the game. Maugis,
however, had only accepted through politeness, because the affair of
the day had sadly depressed him.
After the game had progressed for a time, Maugis had made some wretched
mismoves that attracted the attention of those about.
Ganelon, who stood behind the prince, leaned forward and whispered in
his ear: “In good faith, my prince, thy guest doth seem to ill requite
thy courtesy, for while his hand is on the board his mind seems to be
elsewhere, and for him evidently thou dost not exist.”
A frown covered the brow of the prince, but he made no reply. At this
very moment Maugis made a woefully unpardonable and foolish move, and a
subdued titter ran around among the courtiers who stood about. That was
too much for the prince.
“How now, sir!” he exclaimed hotly, “thou art either an idiot or thou
doth seek to insult me.”
“I crave thy pardon,” replied Maugis, “I made the move while my
thoughts did wander and I assure thee I intended thee no discourtesy.”
“Seest thou not his mood?” hissed Ganelon in the ear of Berthelot. “He
is angered by the reproach of the emperor. Gads! he is in a temper to
insult the saints.” This had its effect.
“Sir Maugis!” cried Berthelot in anger, “thou tellest me in one breath
thou intendest no discourtesy and in the next breath thou dost insult
me by saying thy thoughts wandered, to suffer which is enough an
insult.”
“I pray thee pause in thy condemnation, my prince, and accept my
assurances,” said Maugis with great patience.
“Accept thy assurances forsooth!” exclaimed the now thoroughly angry
prince. “Get thee back to thy northern provinces and teach thyself good
manners before thou comest to court again.”
At this direct insult, Maugis, who had been able to contain himself
the entire day with some success, arose from the table, sweeping the
chessmen to the floor.
The now infuriated Berthelot then reached out and gave Maugis a
resounding slap in the face.
This was enough. Maugis seized the heavy chessboard, which was of gold,
and hurled it at the head of the prince with such force that the nephew
of Charlemagne sank expiring to the floor.
In an instant, repenting of what he had done, Maugis sprang forward and
tenderly supported the dying man, who said: “Thou hast done for me,
Maugis. I was the one on whom blame should rest—let it be known,” and
with these words he fell back dead.
These events were followed by the entry of Charlemagne, who, hearing
the loud voices and the noise, had hastened to learn the cause. He
understood instantly.
“What, ho! the guard!” he thundered, and then gave orders to prevent
the escape of the four sons of Aymon that he might wreak the most
bitter vengeance upon them.
The three brothers of Maugis, aided by Gerard and Nanteuil, who also
wished to escape, had meanwhile fought their way to the main door,
but Maugis, who had lingered too long over the body of Berthelot,
found himself faced by a line of gleaming swords in the hands of the
courtiers. His escape by that means was impossible, besides he was
unarmed.
Quickly seizing a heavy stool he smote down two courtiers who would
oppose him, ran to the exit leading to the empress’ apartments, laying
low the soldier who guarded that entrance, and fled down the corridor.
Without, as he fled, he could hear the beating of drums arousing the
guard and the hoarse commands of the officers. Ahead he could hear the
clang of mailed feet in the corridor approaching him, and behind came
his pursuers from the audience-chamber. He was in a desperate situation.
Suddenly a door opened in the corridor beside him, a white arm
protruded and seized his doublet, and almost before he knew he stood
behind the locked door of a chamber in the presence of the Princess
Yolande, who, pale as a lily, was leaning half-fainting against the
hangings nearby, while outside the pursuers, not perceiving him,
thundered past down the corridor.
“Princess,” he exclaimed, “you have saved me, and my life is yours.”
“No! no!” she gasped, pointing to the window. “They will soon return.
Go! go! spring through, that leads to the moat, swim that and you are
safe.”
Reverently kissing her hand, Maugis jumped to the window and leaped
out into the water below, just as heavy knocks shook the chamber
door—the palace was being searched for him. As he gained the other side
in safety he turned, and throwing a kiss to her as she stood in the
window, he disappeared down a narrow street nearby.
In the meantime his three brothers, with Gerard and Nanteuil, had
fought their way, sword in hand, from the palace, where they were
joined by Maugis, and the little company, well-nigh exhausted, lost no
time in taking the route for the Château d’Aymon, in the province of
Ardennes, northern France.
Charlemagne, furious at their escape, ordered every knight he could
find to mount and go in pursuit, sword in hand.
Meanwhile, the fugitives, of whom Maugis was the only one who had no
horse, soon perceived there was no possible chance to escape their
pursuers. The only thing to be done was to await their coming and face
them with firmness.
Fired by the ambition to be the first to capture Maugis and his
companions, each knight of that imperial company pressed his horse to
the utmost. A single knight, the most prompt, at last presented himself
before Maugis, who stood defiantly in the center of the road facing the
oncomers.
The moment of his approach, Maugis, giving him no time for preparation
for defense, ran him through with his sword. A second knight in the
meantime had come up only to be laid low with a stroke of his sword.
The main body was fast approaching, and finally a third knight,
outstripping the rest, approached, and becoming enraged at the sight of
the fate that had befallen his companions, hurled insulting epithets
at Maugis, who in turn, enraged, cast his lance at his enemy from the
distance of twenty paces with such unerring force and accuracy as to
lay him on the ground transfixed. This is how the third brother secured
a horse in that memorable fight.
Perceiving it would be useless to engage the numbers now coming upon
them, Maugis mounted upon the crupper of his horse, Bayard, behind
Renaud, and then they fled before their enemies, who were astounded at