Jurgen: A Comedy of Justice

  9.

  The Orthodox Rescue of Guenevere

  Now the tale tells how the cave narrowed and again turned sharply,so that Jurgen came as through a corridor into quite another sort ofunderground chamber. Yet this also was a discomfortable place.

  Here suspended from the roof of the vault was a kettle of quiveringred flames. These lighted a very old and villainous looking man infull armor, girded with a sword, and crowned royally: he sat erectupon a throne, motionless, with staring eyes that saw nothing. Backof him Jurgen noted many warriors seated in rows, and all staring atJurgen with wide-open eyes that saw nothing. The red flaming of thekettle was reflected in all these eyes, and to observe this was notpleasant.

  Jurgen waited non-committally. Nothing happened. Then Jurgen sawthat at this unengaging monarch's feet were three chests. The lidshad been ripped from two of them, and these were filled with silvercoins. Upon the middle chest, immediately before the king, sat awoman, with her face resting against the knees of the glaring,withered, motionless, old rascal.

  "And this is a young woman. Obviously! Observe the glint of thatthick coil of hair! the rich curve of the neck! Oh, clearly, atidbit fit to fight for, against any moderate odds!"

  So ran the thoughts of Jurgen. Bold as a dragon now, he steppedforward and lifted the girl's head.

  Her eyes were closed. She was, even so, the most beautiful creatureJurgen had ever imagined.

  "She does not breathe. And yet, unless memory fails me, this iscertainly a living woman in my arms. Evidently this is a sleepinduced by necromancy. Well, it is not for nothing I have read somany fairy tales. There are orthodoxies to be observed in theawakening of every enchanted princess. And Lisa, wherever she maybe, poor dear! is nowhere in this neighborhood, because I hearnobody talking. So I may consider myself at liberty to do thetraditional thing by this princess. Indeed, it is the only fairthing for me to do, and justice demands it."

  In consequence, Jurgen kissed the girl. Her lips parted andsoftened, and they assumed a not unpleasant sort of submissiveardor. Her eyes, enormous when seen thus closely, had languorouslyopened, had viewed him without wonder, and then the lids had fallen,about half-way, just as, Jurgen remembered, the eyelids of a womanought to do when she is being kissed properly. She clung a little,and now she shivered a little, but not with cold: Jurgen perfectlyremembered that ecstatic shudder convulsing a woman's body:everything, in fine, was quite as it should be. So Jurgen put an endto the kiss, which, as you may surmise, was a tolerably lengthyaffair.

  His heart was pounding as though determined to burst from his body,and he could feel the blood tingling at his finger-tips. He wonderedwhat in the world had come over him, who was too old for suchemotions.

  Yet, truly, this was the loveliest girl that Jurgen had everimagined. Fair was she to look on, with her shining gray eyes andsmall smiling lips, a fairer person might no man boast of havingseen. And she regarded Jurgen graciously, with her cheeks flushed bythat red flickering overhead, and she was very lovely to observe.She was clothed in a robe of flame-colored silk, and about her neckwas a collar of red gold. When she spoke her voice was music.

  "I knew that you would come," the girl said, happily.

  "I am very glad that I came," observed Jurgen.

  "But time presses."

  "Time sets an admirable example, my dear Princess--"

  "Oh, messire, but do you not perceive that you have brought lifeinto this horrible place! You have given of this life to me, in themost direct and speedy fashion. But life is very contagious. Alreadyit is spreading by infection."

  And Jurgen regarded the old king, as the girl indicated. Thewithered ruffian stayed motionless: but from his nostrils came slowaugmenting jets of vapor, as though he were beginning to breathe ina chill place. This was odd, because the cave was not cold.

  "And all the others too are snorting smoke," says Jurgen. "Upon myword I think this is a delightful place to be leaving."

  First, though, he unfastened the king's sword-belt, and girdedhimself therewith, sword, dagger and all. "Now I have arms befittingmy fine shirt," says Jurgen.

  Then the girl showed him a sort of passage way, by which theyascended forty-nine steps roughly hewn in stone, and so came todaylight. At the top of the stairway was an iron trapdoor, and thisdoor at the girl's instruction Jurgen lowered. There was no way offastening the door from without.

  "But Thragnar is not to be stopped by bolts or padlocks," the girlsaid. "Instead, we must straightway mark this door with a cross,since that is a symbol which Thragnar cannot pass."

  Jurgen's hand had gone instinctively to his throat. Now he shrugged."My dear young lady, I no longer carry the cross. I must fightThragnar with other weapons."

  "Two sticks will serve, laid crosswise--"

  Jurgen submitted that nothing would be easier than to lift thetrapdoor, and thus dislodge the sticks. "They will tumble apartwithout anyone having to touch them, and then what becomes of yourcrucifix?"

  "Why, how quickly you think of everything!" she said, admiringly."Here is a strip from my sleeve, then. We will tie the twigstogether."

  Jurgen did this, and laid upon the trapdoor a recognizable crucifix."Still, when anyone raises the trapdoor whatever lies upon it willfall off. Without disparaging the potency of your charm, I cannotbut observe that in this case it is peculiarly difficult to handle.Magician or no, I would put heartier faith in a stout padlock."

  So the girl tore another strip, from the hem of her gown, and thenanother from her right sleeve, and with these they fastened theircross to the surface of the trapdoor, in such a fashion that thetwigs could not be dislodged from beneath. They mounted the finesteed whose bridle was marked with a coronet, the girl ridingpillion, and they turned westward, since the girl said this wasbest.

  For, as she now told Jurgen, she was Guenevere, the daughter ofGogyrvan, King of Glathion and the Red Islands. So Jurgen told herhe was the Duke of Logreus, because he felt it was not appropriatefor a pawnbroker to be rescuing princesses: and he swore, too, thathe would restore her safely to her father, whatever Thragnar mightattempt. And all the story of her nefarious capture and imprisonmentby King Thragnar did Dame Guenevere relate to Jurgen, as they rodetogether through the pleasant May morning.

  She considered the Troll King could not well molest them. "For nowyou have his charmed sword, Caliburn, the only weapon with whichThragnar can be slain. Besides, the sign of the cross he cannotpass. He beholds and trembles."

  "My dear Princess, he has but to push up the trapdoor from beneath,and the cross, being tied to the trapdoor, is promptly moved out ofhis way. Failing this expedient, he can always come out of the caveby the other opening, through which I entered. If this Thragnar hasany intelligence at all and a reasonable amount of tenacity, he willpresently be at hand."

  "Even so, he can do no harm unless we accept a present from him. Thedifficulty is that he will come in disguise."

  "Why, then, we will accept gifts from nobody."

  "There is, moreover, a sign by which you may distinguish Thragnar.For if you deny what he says, he will promptly concede you are inthe right. This was the curse put upon him by Miramon Lluagor, for adetection and a hindrance."

  "By that unhuman trait," says Jurgen, "Thragnar ought to be veryeasy to distinguish."