The Galley Slave's Ring; or, The Family of Lebrenn. Эжен Сю
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Название: The Galley Slave's Ring; or, The Family of Lebrenn
Автор: Эжен Сю
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066129330
isbn:
Not I will join you in your ride,'
Said young Katelik. 'I fear your swords,
That hang by your sides.
No, Sires,
I shall not, nor can I go with you.
Too wicked the tales that one hears about you.'
"'Come with us, come to the convent, young maid.
Feel not alarmed about us.'
'No, I shall not proceed to the convent.
Seven young maids of the fields
Once went there, 'tis said;
Seven handsome maids, ripe for their nuptials they were.
Yet they never came out from the convent again.'
"'If seven young maids,' cried up Gonthram of Plouernel,
One of the three monks in red,
'If seven young maids went in,
You, pretty maid, the eighth will be.'
With this she was seized,
And pulled up on horseback;
With this the three rode to the convent in hot haste,
The maid laid across the saddle,
And gagged to smother her cries."
"Oh, the poor dear girl!" exclaimed Jeanike, clasping her hands. "And what is to become of her in that convent of the red monks?"
"You will learn presently, my lassy," answered Gildas with a sigh; and he proceeded with his recitation:
"Seven months later, or eight,
Or perhaps even more,
Great was the dilemma of the monks in their Abbey,
'What, brothers,' they said,
'Shall with this girl now be done?'
'Let us bury her, to-night let us bury her,
At the foot of the main altar.
None of her folks will there seek to find her.'"
"Great God!" cried Jeanike. "They must have killed her, those bandit monks, and were in a hurry to rid themselves of the body."
"I tell you once more, my lassy, these people with helmets and swords are always up to some mischief or other," remarked Gildas dogmatically; and he proceeded:
"Lo, toward night-fall the vault of heaven is rent.
Rain, wind, hail; thunder the most frightful cracks the air.
A poor knight, his clothes drenched with rain,
Looks about for asylum,
Arrives at the church-door of the Abbey.
He peeps through the key-hole.
He sees a small taper burning;
He sees monks digging at the foot of the altar;
He sees the young girl lying prostrate,
Her little bare feet tied together;
He hears her, desolate, moaning, lamenting,
Begging for mercy.
"'Oh, Sires,' she cried, 'for our dear Lord's sake,
Let me live.
I shall wander about in the dark by night;
By day I shall hide.'
The taper went out.
But the knight, he budged not away from the door,
And he heard the voice of the young girl
Imploring from the depth of the grave,
And praying:
'Pray give me some oil, and baptismal
For the babe I carry with me!' "The knight, he galloped away to Kemper, To the Count-Bishop's palace he rode in full haste. 'Sire Bishop of Cornouailles, wake up! Wake up quick!' cried the knight, As he battered at the gate. 'You lie snugly in your bed, Stretched out cosily upon soft down; But a young girl there is who is now groaning At the bottom of a pit of hard earth, And is praying for some oil, And baptismal for the babe that is with her; Extreme unction she prays for herself.' "By orders the Count-Bishop hastened to issue in advance, The grave at the foot of the altar was dug open; and, Just as the Bishop arrived, the poor young girl Was drawn up from the depths of her grave. She was drawn up, her babe sound asleep on her breast. Her teeth had torn the flesh on her arms, Her nails had torn the flesh on her breast, On her white breast down to her heart. "And the Bishop, When this sight he saw, Fell down on both knees, and wept by the grave. Three days and three nights he spent there in prayer. At the end of the third day, All the red monks standing round, The babe of the dead girl stirred by the light of the tapers, It opened its eyes, It rose, It walked, It walked straight to the three monks in red, And it spoke, and said: 'It is he— Gonthram of Plouernel."[5]
"Well, now, my lassy," asked Gildas as he shook his head warningly, "is not that a terrible story? Did I not tell you that those helmet-wearers were ever prowling around young girls like so many ravishing sparrow-hawks? But Jeanike, what are you pondering? You do not answer me. You seem steeped in revery."
"It is, indeed, quite extraordinary, Gildas. Was that bandit of a red monk named the Sire of Plouernel?"
"Yes."
"Often have I heard Monsieur Lebrenn mention the name of that family as if he had some cause of complaint against them, and say, whenever he referred to some wicked man: He must be a son of Plouernel!' as one would say: 'He must be a son of the devil!'"
"That is a puzzle—a puzzling house this is," remarked Gildas meditatively, and even in a tone of uneasiness. "To think of Monsieur Lebrenn having complaint against the family of a red monk, who has been dead eight or nine hundred years. All the same, Jeanike, I hope the story may stand you in good stead."
"Go to, Gildas!" exclaimed Jeanike, laughing. "Do you imagine there are any red monks in St. Denis Street, and that they carry off young girls in omnibuses?"
As Jeanike was saying this, a valet in morning livery stepped into the shop and asked for Monsieur Lebrenn.
"He is not in," said Gildas.
"Then, my good lad," answered the valet, "you will please tell your master that the colonel expects to see him this morning, before noon, to settle with him a matter about some linen that he spoke about with your mistress yesterday. Here is my master's address," added the valet, placing СКАЧАТЬ