p swayed slightly and burned low,
the tiny flame leaped clear of the wick and was extinguished, and
darkness rose about them.
Raimbaut said: "What do you want of me? Whose blood is on that knife?"
"Have you forgotten it is Walburga's Eve?" Makrisi said. Raimbaut did
not regret he could not see his servant's countenance. "Time was we
named it otherwise and praised another woman than a Saxon wench, but
let the new name stand. It is Walburga's Eve, that little, little hour
of evil! and all over the world surges the full tide of hell's desire,
and mischief is a-making now, apace, apace, apace. People moan in
their sleep, and many pillows are pricked by needles that have sewed a
shroud. Cry _Eman hetan_ now, messire! for there are those to-night
who find the big cathedrals of your red-roofed Christian towns no more
imposing than so many pimples on a butler's chin, because they ride so
high, so very high, in this brave moonlight. Full-tide, full-tide!"
Makrisi said, and his voice jangled like a bell as he drew aside the
curtain so that the old knight saw into the room beyond.
It was a place of many lights, which, when thus suddenly disclosed,
blinded him at first. Then Raimbaut perceived Guillaume lying a-sprawl
across an oaken chest. The Prince had fallen backward and lay in this
posture, glaring at the intruders with horrible eyes which did not move
and would not ever move again. His breast was crimson, for some one
had stabbed him. A woman stood above the corpse and lighted yet
another candle while Raimbaut de Vaquieras waited motionless. A hand
meant only to bestow caresses brushed a lock of hair from this woman's
eyes while he waited. The movements of this hand were not uncertain,
but only quivered somewhat, as a taut wire shivers in the wind, while
Raimbaut de Vaquieras waited motionless.
"I must have lights, I must have a host of candles to assure me past
any questioning that he is dead. The man is of deep cunning. I think
he is not dead even now." Lightly Biatritz touched the Prince's
breast. "Strange, that this wicked heart should be so tranquil when
there is murder here to make it glad! Nay, very certainly this
Guillaume de Baux will rise and laugh in his old fashion before he
speaks, and then I shall be afraid. But I am not afraid as yet. I am
afraid of nothing save the dark, for one cannot be merry in the dark."
Raimbaut said: "This is Belhs Cavaliers whom I have loved my whole
life
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