"Seigneur," said Thiegaud, "the owner is waiting, I tell you. He must have the money, a hundred and twenty silver sous, or the animal back."

"He shall not have the horse!" answered the bishop angrily striking the ground. "If the farmer dares to grumble, tell him to send me his master.

We shall see whether he will have the audacity to appear on such an errand before his bishop."

"He will surely have the audacity, seigneur bishop," replied Thiegaud.

"The owner of the horse is Colombaik the Tanner, a communier of Laon and son of Fergan, master quarryman of the mill hill. I know these people. I notify you that the father and son are of those ... who dare ...

anything."

"Blood of Christ! and devil's horns! we have had words enough!" cried out the bishop. "Gerhard, take the stallion to the stables!"

The equerry obeyed, and the archdeacon was on the point of remonstrating with Gaudry on the injustice and danger of his conduct, when, hearing a great noise in the yards contiguous to the green, the bishop, already in a bad humor and yielding to the pa.s.sion of his temperament, rushed out of the green, without taking time to put on his robe again and leaving it behind on a bench. He had hardly crossed the first yard, followed by the equerry, who led the horse, and by Thiegaud, who in his perversity was smiling at this latest iniquity of his master, when he saw a crowd of the domestics of his household coming towards him. They were all yelling and gesticulating violently, and surrounded Black John, whose gigantic stature rose above them by the full length of his head. No less excited than his fellows, Black John also yelled and gesticulated, foaming at the mouth with rage and brandishing his Saracen dagger.

"What means this hurly?" inquired the bishop of Laon stepping before the advancing crowd. "Why do you scream in that way?"

Several voices answered at once: "We are crying out against the bourgeois of Laon! The dogs of the communiers!"

"What has happened? Answer quick!"

"Black John will tell monseigneur!" several voices called in great excitement.

The African giant turned towards his fellows, motioned them to be silent, and wiping on his sleeves the b.l.o.o.d.y blade of his dagger, said to the bishop in an excited voice, still trembling with rage, but not without calculatingly casting upon Thiegaud a look of rancorous hatred:

"I had just led Mussine the Pretty to the outer gate--"

"My daughter!" Thiegaud e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed stupefied at the very moment when, angrily stamping the ground, the prelate checked the indiscreet words of his slave with a silent gesture. Black John remained mute like one who understands too late the folly he committed, while the rest of the bishop's domestics stealthily giggled at the consternation of Thiegaud.

Some dreaded him for his malignity, others envied him for his intimate relations with their master. Thiegaud, livid at the startling revelation, flashed at Gaudry a sinister look quick as lightning; his features thereupon as quickly rea.s.sumed their usual expression, and he started to laugh louder than the rest at the awkward blunder of Black John. He even went the length of indulging in ironical deference towards Gaudry. The latter, long acquainted with the criminal life of the serf of St. Vincent, was not surprised at seeing him remain so indifferent to the disgrace of his daughter. Nevertheless, yielding to that respect for man that even the most depraved characters never succeed in wholly stripping themselves of, the bishop silenced the suppressed merriment with an imperious gesture and said: "Those giggles are unseemly.

Thiegaud's daughter came early in the morning, as so many other penitents do, to consult me on a case of conscience. After listening to her in the confessional, I ordered John to accompany her to the gate."

"That's so true," added Thiegaud with perfect composure, "that, having to bring this morning a horse to our seigneur the bishop, I expected to return with my daughter. But she left by the vaulted door while I was still on the green."

"Friend Ysengrin," resumed the prelate with a mixture a haughtiness and familiarity, "my words can dispense with your testimony." And wishing to cut off short this incident, which had the archdeacon, silent but profoundly indignant, for a witness, Gaudry said to the black slave: "Speak! What has happened between you and the communiers, whom may the pest carry off and h.e.l.l confound! May Satan take them all!"

"I was opening the gate for Mussine the Pretty, when three bourgeois, coming from the suburbs and bound for the princ.i.p.al entry of the city, to a.s.sist at the ceremonies announced by the belfry of those rogues, pa.s.sed by the palace. Seeing a veiled woman come out, those scamps set up a malicious laugh, and nudged one another in the ribs while keeping on their way. I ran after them and asked: 'What are you laughing about, you dogs of communiers?' They gave me an insolent answer and called me the bishop's hangman. I then drew my dagger and stabbed one of them in the arm, and leaving his companions and him loudly threatening to demand justice from the Commune, I returned and locked the door after me. By Mahomet, I am proud of what I did. I avenged my master for the insults of those curs!"

"Black John did well!" cried the domestics of the bishop. "We can no longer go out without being shamed by the communiers of Laon."

"The other day," put in one of the falconers, "the butcher of Exchange street, one of the Councilmen of the Commune, refused to give me meat on credit for the falcons!"

"At the taverns we are compelled to pay before drinking! The shame and humiliation of it!"

"It was not thus three years ago!"

"Those were good days! A retainer of the bishop then took without paying whatever he wanted from the merchants; he caressed their wives and daughters; and none dared say a word. By the womb of the Virgin Mary, we were then masters! But since the establishment of the Commune it is the bourgeois who command! The devil take the Commune! Three cheers for the good old times!"

"To h.e.l.l with the communiers, they make us die of shame for our seigneur the bishop!" exclaimed one of the young serfs who had been shortly before exercising in the use of arms. And resolutely addressing the prelate, who, so far from quieting down the excitement of his people, seemed delighted at their recriminations, and encouraged them with a smile of approval: "Say the word, our bishop! There are here fifty of us who have learned to manage the bow and pike! Place a few knights at our head, and we will descend upon the city, leaving not a stone upon another of the houses of that bourgeois and artisan rabble!"

"Say the word!" cried out Thiegaud, "and I will bring you, my holy patron, a hundred woodsmen and colliers from the forest of St. Vincent.

They will make a bonfire of the houses of those bourgeois and artisans fit to roast Beelzebub! Death and d.a.m.nation to the communiers!"

If the bishop of Laon had entertained any doubt upon the indifference of the serf of St. Vincent regarding his daughter's shame, it was removed by the man's words. Accordingly, doubly satisfied with the tokens of Thiegaud's devotion, the bishop addressed his people in these words: "I am glad to find you in such a frame of mind. Remain so. The hour for going to work will arrive sooner than you may think. As to you, my brave John, you have avenged me on the insolence of those communiers. Fear not. Not a hair of your head shall be touched. As to you, friend Ysengrin, notify the farmer that I keep the horse, and I shall pay him if I choose. Then, see our friends the woodsmen and colliers of the forest. I may need them any day. When that day shall come, they shall be free, in reward for their good will, to plunder at their pleasure the houses of the bourgeois of Laon." Turning thereupon towards the archdeacon, who had witnessed this scene without uttering a word, he said to him: "Let's go in. What has just taken place under your own eyes will have prepared you for the interview we are to have, and for which I summoned you hither."

Anselm followed the prelate, and both entered the bishop's apartments.

"Anselm, you have just seen and heard things that, doubtlessly, left a disagreeable impression upon your mind. We shall take that up presently," said Gaudry to the archdeacon when they were closeted together. "I summoned you to the palace because I am aware of your foible for the common folks of the bourgeoisie, and in order to afford you the opportunity to render a signal service to your favorites. Listen to me carefully."

"I shall strive to meet your intentions, seigneur bishop."

"You shall go to the bourgeois and artisans of the city and say to them: 'Renounce, good people, that execrable spirit of novelty, that diabolical pa.s.sion that drives the va.s.sal to rise against his master.

Abjure, soon as possible, the brazen and impious pride that persuades the artisan and townsman to withdraw from the seignioral authority and to govern themselves. Return to your trades, to your shops. The administration of public affairs can get along very well without you.

You quit the Church for the Town Hall; you open your ears to the sound of your own belfry, and shut them to the chimes of the church bells.

That is not good for you. You will end by forgetting the submission you owe to the clergy, to the n.o.bles and to the King. Good people, never allow the distinctions of the stations in life to be confounded; each to his rights, each to his duties. The right of the clergy, of the n.o.bility and of the King is to command and to govern; the duty of the serf and the bourgeois is to bow before the will of their natural masters. This communal and republican comedy, that you have been playing for now nearly three years, has lasted too long. Abdicate willingly your roles of Mayor, Councilmen and warriors. People at first laughed at your silly pranks, hoping you would return to your senses. But it takes too long; one's patience is exhausted. The time has come to put an end to the Saturnalia. In order to avoid a just punishment, return of your own accord to the humility of your station in life. Cut your Councilmen's robes into skirts for your wives; return your arms to people who know how to handle them; respectfully surrender to the Church, as an homage of atonement, that ear-splitting bell of that belfry of yours; it will enrich the chimes of the cathedral. Your superb banner will make a becoming altar-cloth, and as to your magnificent silver seal, melt it back into money wherewith to purchase some hogsheads of old wine which you will empty in honor of the restoration of the seigniory of your bishop in Jesus Christ. Do so, and all will be well, good people. The past will be forgiven you upon condition that you will henceforth be submissive, humble and penitent towards the Church, the n.o.blemen and the King, and that of your own accord, you renounce your pestiferous Commune.'"

Anselm listened to the bishop with a mixture of amazement, indignation and profound anxiety. He did not interrupt the speaker to the end, wondering how that man, whom he could not deny either cleverness or sagacity, yet could be so untutored upon men and things as to conceive such a project. So profound was the emotion of the archdeacon that he remained silent for a while. Finally he answered the bishop in a grave and clear voice: "You solicit my a.s.sistance to advise the inhabitants of Laon to give up their charter, that very charter that both you and they have agreed to and sworn to uphold by a common accord?"

"That agreement was concluded by the chapter and council of seigneurs who governed during my absence, while I was away in England."

"Must I remind you that, upon your return from London, and in consideration of a large sum paid by the bourgeoisie, you signed the charter with your own hand, that you sealed it with your own seal, and that you swore upon your faith that it would be faithfully observed?"

"I was wrong in doing so. The Church holds her seigniories from G.o.d alone. She may not alienate her rights. I am absolved from such engagements."

"Have you returned the money that you received for your consent to the Commune? Has rest.i.tution been made?"

"The money I received represented, at the most, four years' revenues that I habitually drew from the inhabitants of Laon. Three years have elapsed since the establishment of this Commune. I am only one year in advance of my va.s.sals. My right is to tax at will and mercy. I shall double the tax of the current year, and being quits, I shall, if I please, demand the tax for the next year."

"Yours would be such a right had you not alienated it. But you cannot repudiate your signature, your seal and your oath. Your engagement is binding."

"What is there in a signature? One or two words placed at the bottom of a parchment! What is a seal? A lump of wax! What is an oath? A breath of air that is lost in s.p.a.ce, and which the wind carries off!"

Although highly wrought up by the prelate's answer, Anselm restrained his indignation and proceeded: "You, then, persist in your purpose to break your oath and abolish the Commune of Laon?"

"Yes, I intend to smash it."

"You refuse to keep your sacred engagement? Be it so! But the communiers of Laon have had their charter confirmed by the present King. They will turn to him to compel you to respect its clauses. You will have two foes to face--the people and the King."

"To-morrow," answered the bishop, "Louis the l.u.s.ty will be here at the head of a goodly number of knights and men-at-arms,--all resolved to crush those miserable bourgeois if they dare defend their Commune. It is all settled between us."

"I can hardly believe what you say, seigneur bishop," replied the archdeacon. "The King, who confirmed and swore to the charter for the enfranchis.e.m.e.nt of the bourgeois of Laon, and who received the price agreed upon, he surely will not be ready to perjure himself and commit such an infamy."

"The King begins to listen to the voice of the Church. He understands that, though it be good politics and profitable withal, to sell charters of emanc.i.p.ation to the cities that are subject to lay seigniories, his rivals and ours, it is to seriously compromise his own power if he were to favor emanc.i.p.ation from the ecclesiastical seigniories. The King is determined to restore to the episcopal authority all the ecclesiastical cities that have been enfranchised, and to exterminate their inhabitants if they dare oppose his pleasure. To-morrow, perhaps this very day, the King will be in the city at the head of armed men. The n.o.bles of the city have been apprised, like myself, of the pending arrival of the King. We shall notify our will to the people."

"My presentiments did not deceive me when I urged the communiers to redouble their self-control and prudence!"

"You were on the right road. It is, therefore, that, aware of your influence with those clowns, I sent for you, to commission you to induce them to renounce their h.e.l.lish Commune of their own free will, if they would escape a terrible punishment. We demand absolute submission."

"Bishop of Laon," Anselm answered solemnly and with a tremulous voice, "I decline the mission that you charge me with. I do not wish to see the blood of my brothers flow in this city. If your projects were but suspected, an uprising would break out on the spot among the people, and yourself, the clergy and the knights in the city would be the first victims of the rage of the communiers. Your houses would be burned down over your heads."

"There is no insurrection to be feared," put in the bishop laughing loudly. "John, my negro, will take by the nose the wildest of those clowns and will bring him on his knees to my feet, begging for mercy, trembling and penitent. I need but to say the word."