Читать книгу The Man on the White Horse - Warwick Deeping - Страница 21

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In Calleva some six patrician houses with their furniture, fabrics, linen, vessels, and ornaments were dedicated to God—that is, to the poor. All Calleva swarmed in and took what it pleased or what it could get. Women from the alleys fought over the contents of chests and cupboards; silk robes were torn in twain, curtains pulled down and carried off. Men loaded up hand-carts with the loot. There was much noise, but no violence, for the wealthy had fled, and their slaves had joined the mob.

All that day Balthasar sat in the curia with his priests and councillors, while the people brought to him the things that he had charged them to bring. Balthasar had put hundreds of simple souls upon their honour.

"My children, that which is precious—all gold and silver and jewels—must be given to God and our city."

The people brought to their Bishop the gods from the lararia, and they were thrown in a heap on the floor of the basilica. All metal was precious. They brought one hoard of coins in an earthenware crock, some silver dishes, but on the whole the plunder was scanty. Not till late in the day did Fidelis and Caritas appear with two stout fellows carrying a wooden box bound with iron. In the house dedicated to Good Women searchers had found Cornelia's strong-box hidden in a hypocaust chamber under one of the winter rooms.

Smiths were called for. The crowd pressed close. Here should he pay for Calleva's poor soldiers. The smiths forced the iron hasps that were fastened by two padlocks. The lid was raised. The expected treasure within was covered by a red silk robe.

Balthasar rose to his feet.

"My children, let us will this treasure to God."

He made a sign to Fidelis to uncover the treasure, and when Fidelis drew the red robe aside, the jest of a wicked old woman betrayed itself. The strong-box was full of stones.

The crowd groaned or was silent, but their Bishop was a man of resource.

"Cornelia and her corruption have flown. Put the chest in the treasury, smiths. It shall stand there as a symbol."

Meanwhile the house of Cornelia, unravished by the mob, but searched and put in such order as pleased them by Fidelis, Pia, and Caritas and other good women, became for Guinevra a peaceful prison. She remained in her room, like a bird in a cage, listening to voices and the sounds of much activity. What should she do? She had been caught up in Calleva's communion. She had knelt to Balthasar, but not in the spirit. She had been told that the gates were shut, and that she, a Christian, was to accept the community of saints. But Guinevra was no saint.

And then her upper room was invaded. Pia came into it with a bundle of belongings and deposited her bundle on Guinevra's bed. Pia was a woman with no eyebrows and such thin lips that she looked lipless. Pia dead and wrapped in a cerecloth would not have differed greatly from Pia alive, and when Guinevra understood that she was to share her room with this living corpse, she began to pack her own belongings into a small trunk that Cornelia had given her.

"I will find room elsewhere."

Pia said nothing, but was silent with the air of a woman who could have said much. She let Guinevra and her baggage go down the stairs and into the garden court. Yes, the "baggage" would find that the house of Cornelia had ceased to be a painted palace for idle young women with too much beauty. In the garden court Guinevra found Fidelis, Caritas, and three others sitting by the fountain and holding discourse after a crowded day. Fidelis was a big, raw-boned creature with a mouth like a hole in a wall; Caritas was meagre, pale, and shrill.

Guinevra smiled at them and walked towards the gate. The gates were shut, but gates could be opened.

Said Fidelis: "And where are you going, young woman?"

"To the post-house, for horses and a carriage."

"Indeed! Her ladyship would order a carriage?"

Fidelis rose and clapped her large hands, and from the janitor's lodge appeared two other women.

"Marcia, Honestas, stand by the gates."

She turned on Guinevra.

"Go back to your room, wench."

Guinevra went white.

"I go where I please."

In a flash Fidelis had her by the arm, and Fidelis's big fingers pinched the flesh.

"Shall we have to teach you to be humble? You are to serve your penance here. A girl who consorts with old Jezebels! Go to your room."

Guinevra shook her off.

"Don't dare to touch me."

Her hot youth flared; she stood still, realizing that the other women had drawn in to support Fidelis. So she was a prisoner here. But why? And what was she to do? Struggle with these formidable matrons, beat the wings of her youth in their faces, and be hustled into some dark cupboard like a passionate and defiant child?

She looked at Fidelis.

"By what right—?"

"By the right of souls to be saved."

Guinevra nodded at her. She had heard such language before, but not from a righteous termagant like Fidelis. This, indeed, was virtue laid on with a whip. She grew deep, calm, silent. She walked to the fountain, and putting her hands into the basin, she took water into her palm and drank. Then she went towards the portico like a young tree walking.

Caritas tittered, and the sound she made was that of a rusty hinge creaking.

"Mercy, what a head in air!"

Said Fidelis: "We will make her bend."

Guinevra climbed the stairs very slowly, pausing at each step, and with each step she asked herself a silent question. Why? What had these women against her? Had Cornelia's house become a sort of penitentiary? By whose orders? What did it mean? What should she do? She had reached the last step when the secret word came to her. Balthasar? She stood a moment, staring. Then she crossed the passage, opened the door of her room, and saw Pia putting clean bed-clothes on the bed.

Pia smiled at her like a corpse come to life.

"Back again, sister?"

Guinevra stood with a hand laid to her cheek. The bed-clothes that had been hers were piled on the floor.

Said Pia: "Perhaps Fidelis will give you a mattress. I suffer from rheumatics, so I will take the bed. You had better go and ask Fidelis. She is matron here."

Guinevra put down the little leather trunk and went to the window. She leaned out. How high was the window from the ground? No, she was not going to ask Fidelis for anything.