Part 4 (1/2)
”Well, it was an old armorer in Ghent for whom I had done some service in protecting his daughter and saving some mails which my men would have plundered, and the old man was more grateful than need be, and came one night to my lodgings bringing this sword wrapped in his mantle, to offer me as a gift, for he said he would not sell it, valuing it above all price.”
”And still you would have him take a price,” suggested Alden exultantly, but Standish answered gently,--
”Nay, John, that is but poor pride that cannot allow another to be its benefactor. I took the old man's gift and thanked him heartily. Later on, as chance befell, I did him a good turn in a contract for arms, while he knew it not. But that is beside the matter, which is the sword.
He told me, that old man did, a story fit to set in the ancient romaunts of chivalry, how he as a young fellow full of heart and l.u.s.tihood went out to fight the Turks or some other heathen of those parts, and was a prisoner, and a lady loved him and he loved her not, having a sweetheart waiting for him at home. And she had a n.o.ble heart and forgave him his despite, and set him free at risk of her own life, nor gave him freedom only, but a purse of gold and this sword, which she averred had been captured from the Persian people hundreds of years before, and was a true Damascus blade forged from meteor iron, and of the curious tempering now forgotten. And she said, moreover, that there was a charm upon it that made him who carried it invincible and scathless, and she, poor maid, had robbed her father's house of this great treasure, and brought it to him who loved another woman better than her, and so with tears and smiles she gave it over, and he for very ruth gave her a tender kiss, and thus they parted.”
”Nay, I pity her not. She was overbold to offer her love before it had been asked,” said Alden hastily.
”Ah, boy, thou 'rt in all the hardness of thy callow youth, and nought's more hard. Wait some fifteen years till thou comest to my age, and thou 'lt pity the poor heathen maid as I do to-day. Well, my armorer took the sword and played it some forty years or more, and then, too old to wield arms, he took to dealing in them, but never sold this, for it had proved all that the lady claimed for it, and had slain his enemies, and fended his friends, and saved his own head more times than he could number, and now he gave it to me who had, he said, saved more than his life.”
”And these outlandish signs and marks upon the blade?” asked Alden, peering down at the sword.
”There, now, thou callest for another tale,” replied Standish smiling good-naturedly. ”But as they seem to need us not in disemboweling yon granary, and here we are guard against surprise from whoever may rightly own the treasure and come to claim it, I will e'en tell thee the rest.
”Thou knowest Pastor Robinson of Leyden, though thou wast never out of England thyself?”
”I know his fame as a pious teacher and a learned man, well beloved of his people.”
”Beloved? Ay, none more so,” exclaimed Standish heartily. ”I ever wished I might see him in some great peril and prove my love by cutting down a round dozen of his foes. And learned! Why, man, he disputed with the most learned among their Dutch scholars openly in the big church, and left them not a leg to stand on, or a tongue to wag. Why, 't is no more to him to read Hebrew than for me to spell out my Bible. So then, knowing his learning and his love of all that is old and curious, I one day showed him my sword and asked if he could rede me fairly the mystical texts or whatever they might be upon the blade. But mind thee I said naught to him of any charm or amulet about it, lest I might wound his conscience, which is tender as a maid's. Thou shouldst have seen the dear old man, barnacles on nose, peering and peeping and muttering over the queer device, all at one as he were a wizard himself and working some spell. But at the last he heaved a mighty sigh, and gave me back the sword saying, nay, he could not make out more than that there were two legends in two different tongues and by different hands, and that the effigies of the sun and moon and stars pointed, he feared, to idolatrous emblems, and were not such as a Christian man might safely deal withal. So I asked him would it be better should I have the Holy Rood wrought above them as did the Crusaders of old, and beshrew me, but this device seemed to please him less than the other.”
”Nay, our teachers like not the look of the Cross, nor use it as our fathers used. It savoreth of Popery, they say,” interposed Alden glancing at the captain's face for sure approval, but to his surprise he saw it overcast and frowning.
”Thou knowest,” replied he a little haughtily, ”that I am not of the Separatist Church, nor agree in all its teachings. The Standishes were ever good Catholics, since they came over from Normandy with William the Baseborn, and if I hold not to the religion of my fathers I accept no other, nor can I ever esteem lightly those things my mother venerated.”
The younger man, perplexed and mortified, remained silent, but in a moment Standish smiled and resumed his story.
”So, Pastor Robinson confessed his own want of skill, as so wise a man need not shame to do, but told me of a certain aged scholar in Amsterdam, well versed in Eastern lore, and able, if any man alive could do it, to rede me the riddle aright, and he wrote down his name and lodging and a line to recommend me to his kindly attention, and so gave me fair good-night.
”Not long after, my occasions called me to Amsterdam, and be sure I took the time to find the old ancient scholar, a queer, dried-up graybeard, with skin like the parchment covers of his folios; but he gave me courteous welcome, and I laid the sword upon the table under his nose.
Faith, John, I thought that same nose would grow to my blade, for a good half hour pa.s.sed away, or ever he stirred or spoke. Then he looked askance at me and said,--
”'How old art thou in very truth?'”
”I told him some thirty years, and he stared and stared until had he been a young man and a soldier I had asked him his intent. But as it was, I did but stare back again, until at the last his parchment cheeks creased and crackled in what may have been meant for a smile, and he said,--
”'Thou mightst have been a score of thirties if thou hadst been born when this blade was forged.'
”'And why?' asked I, wondering if Pastor Robinson could have known the man was an old wizard.
”'Because there's that on this blade would have kept thee from all harm if thou hadst made it thine own,' said he, tapping that circle.”
And turning the blade, Standish showed upon the reverse from the sun, moon, and stars, an ornamented medallion close to the hilt, containing certain cabalistic signs and marks. Below this was an inscription of several lines in totally different characters.[1]
[1] This sword may still be seen in Pilgrim Hall, Plymouth, Ma.s.sachusetts.
”And that is a charm to keep a man alive?” asked Alden with bated breath and eager eyes.
”So that old man said,” replied Standish, ”but I concern myself little with such matters, having ever found my own right arm enough to keep my head, and the grace of G.o.d better than any heathen charm.”