  Constance and Arthur were received at the court of Philip Augustus in Paris not after the manner of fugitives. The King gave them royal recognition, and his spouse, the gracious Agnes of Meran, greeted them most cordially. Philip evinced a peculiarly friendly interest in Arthur; but he met his urgent request for assistance with a quiet smile, saying, “I shall do all in my power to help you to retain your possessions and all your rights. In the meantime, as there is a quarrel to be settled between me and the Count of Flanders, will you go with me and win your spurs on my side?” The King looked sharply at Arthur, who, thirsting for action, acceded to his proposal notwithstanding the Duchess’s disapproval. She was obliged to consent in the end, however, for HÖel and Alan, who found idle court life intolerable, gladly agreed to go also, and were eager to participate in the affair. Arthur was to be admitted to knighthood at once, and chose Alan for his brother-in-arms. During the night which preceded the important ceremony, the youths kept knightly vigil to uplift their souls in prayer. They were escorted by HÖel and some of the leading knights to the castle chapel, where they were left alone, after an impressive parting. The barred doors shut them out from the world, and they knelt a long time before the altar, engaged in their devotions. These concluded, they arose, and with drawn swords made a circuit of the chapel walls, pausing at times before the memorials of distinguished princes, whose statues seemed almost ghostly in the uncertain flickerings of the ever-burning lamps. The banners fastened to the columns, which reached to the dome, fluttered, and the trophies gave out a hollow sound as the youths passed them. At last they reached the altar again, and almost involuntarily Arthur began to express his deep emotions. He thought of the cruel fate which had snatched his father from him, and of the sorrowful burden which had overwhelmed his mother. With a firm voice he pictured the future for which he longed so ardently and hopefully. He would earn distinction and fame under Philip’s leadership, and all brave heroes would gladly help him in his struggle for his rights. Then, when Richard had returned to the throne of England, and he had earned Philip’s good-will, how successfully his life would unfold! “And you, Alan, my brother-in-arms,” he said, turning to him, “shall always be nearest my side, however high a station I may reach.” Glowing with youthful enthusiasm, Alan knelt before Arthur and lowered his sword with the utmost reverence, for he believed in Arthur with all his soul. Joyfully the latter exclaimed: “Oh, that a sign might be given to reveal my future!” At that instant the moon broke through the clouds and illuminated the lofty stained glass windows. In the sudden crimson glow Arthur and Alan looked as if they were sprinkled with blood. Their faces, hair, and shoulders were tinted a deep red. They gazed upon one another with astonishment, but the red glow soon disappeared, and they were once more in the semi-darkness. Though the effect, which was caused by the light passing through the ruby-red panes, was easily explainable, yet they were deeply impressed by it. They spoke no more, but stood motionless by the altar, awaiting the coming of day. The morning light had hardly broken when the doors of the chapel were opened and a band of knights came to greet their new brothers. HÖel embraced them and smiled at Arthur’s disturbed countenance; but when he saw that Alan too was pale and agitated, he became serious. There was no time to question them, for a multitude quickly poured into the chapel. The entire court was soon assembled. The ecclesiastics gathered about the altar, and at last the King entered with the Queen and the Duchess Constance. At the close of the religious service Philip entered the chancel and bade Arthur kneel. Touching his shoulder with his sword, he dubbed him knight and received his vows. When Alan had likewise been admitted to knighthood, their golden spurs were given them, and shouting “Saint Denis!” and “Saint George!” the knights embraced their new comrades. All present joined in congratulation, and HÖel had to tear them away almost by force, so that they might have rest and refreshment and be in readiness for the afternoon’s tournament. When the time came, they were assisted in putting on their armor by knights, but Arthur kept his sash in his hand so that his mother might bind it about him. The gloomy night was forgotten, and as he passed along the spacious corridors of the Louvre As he approached the Duchess’s apartment he heard delightful strains of music, and hesitated about entering; for Constance, since the great sorrow had come into her life, seldom touched the harp. At last, however, he softly opened the door and glanced into the large room. The Duchess was reclining upon a couch, her head resting upon her hand, and her pale face bedewed with tears. A young lady, who was playing the harp, sat near her on a tabouret. She ceased as Arthur quickly advanced and bowed low to the two ladies. The younger rose in surprise and looked inquiringly at the Duchess, who took her hand and, turning to Arthur, said, “You must know, my son, who has played so beautifully for my consolation. This is the Princess Marie of France, “Noble lady,” said Marie gently, “I too have known sorrow. My mother is dead.” “May the blessing of Heaven comfort you, gracious lady, and bring its peace to a heart which knows so well how to comfort others,” exclaimed Arthur. “I shall go to the field contentedly, for I know that an angel will be at my mother’s side.” Trumpet peals from the courtyard summoned to the tournament. The clank of armor was heard in the anteroom, and knights were in waiting to act as Arthur’s escort. “It is my first venture with arms, dear mother. Give me your blessing, I beseech you,” implored Arthur; “and you, Princess, shall tie on my sash as a surety of good fortune in the contest.” Marie directed a questioning glance at the Duchess, and when she smiled in return, threw the scarf over Arthur’s shoulder and fastened it. After a word of thanks, Arthur hastened to his waiting associates, and the ladies betook themselves to the Queen, whose guests they were to be at the tournament. The field was encircled with a dense throng of persons of all ranks. The spectators watched Arthur eagerly as he rode in, followed by Alan and four knights, who drew up in line. Their adversaries confronted them in similar line. At a signal from the King the knights rushed at each other. HÖel smilingly watched his protÉgÉs, who distinguished themselves by their daring and dexterity. At the first onset Arthur parried the thrust of his enemy, and at the second advanced from the other side with such fury that his opponent was taken off his guard and was dismounted. Arthur was declared victor. The same good fortune attended him in the remaining contests, and at the close he received a wreath from the Queen’s own hands as his prize. Never was handsomer knight seen than Arthur, as with visor raised he lifted his crowned head and saluted the princesses. At the court banquet he was assigned a place between his mother and the Princess Marie, and his heart swelled with joy and pride. The time for the departure of the expedition drew nigh, and Arthur spent his leisure moments in the company of the Duchess and her young friend. On the last evening the King visited them, and after a brief conversation turned to the Duke. “Take a long farewell,” said he. “Guard yourself in battle, for your reward will be Marie’s hand.” Arthur and the Princess stood speechless with surprise for some time, but the silence was at last broken by the Duchess: “Yes, Arthur, it is the King’s will to give Marie to you as wife, and to me as daughter, some day, when our lot is a happier one.” “For that I hope, with God’s help,” answered the King. |
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