Benedetto Croce - "Aesthetic as Science of Expression and General Linguistic"

Susie F. Harrison - "Crowded Out! and Other Sketches"

George Wharton Edwards - "The Book of Old English Ballads"

Alexis de Tocqueville et al - "American Institutions and Their Influence"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

An Enemy To The King

R >> Robert Neilson Stephens >> An Enemy To The King




So, then, there were two sides, two appearances, to this woman. The one,
the good side, that which I had seen, that which had been the joy of my
life, was not real, was but a seeming, had no existence but in pretence.
The other, the wicked side, was the real one, was the actual woman. I had
never known her. What I had known was but an assumption; it had no being.
Was this credible? Could a bad woman so delude one with an angelic
pretence, so conceal her wicked self? If so, to what depths of vileness
might she not be capable of descending? Was it, then, not that I had lost
my beloved, but that she had never existed? At thought of it, I felt a
sickness within, a weakness, a choking, a giving way. And then her image
came before me again, as she had stood in the moonlit garden, and my
beloved was born again. The woman I had known was the real one. I had
done her incredible wrong to have thought otherwise. But whether good or
bad, whether or not my betrayer, I loved her; I longed for her; I would
see her face; I would clasp her in my arms; I would claim her as my own;
I would hold her against her own will and the world's. On, my horse, on!
Where is she now, what has befallen her, how soon shall my heart bound at
sight of her before me in the night? On! Whether she lead me to heaven or
to hell, I must be with her; I cannot wait!

Presently we came to the abode of Godeau and Marianne, where the forest
path runs into the old road across the mountains. We had to check our
speed here, on account of the thick growth of vegetation that served to
mask the forest path from travellers on the road. We emerged from this,
and turned the heads of our horses towards Clochonne.

The door of the inn opened, and Marianne came forth. She had been
watching.

"Monsieur," she said, "I did not know whether to come to you or
not. I have been keeping my eyes and ears open for any of the
governor's troops."

"But you have seen or heard none," I answered, impatiently.

"None, monsieur. But some one has ridden by, towards
Clochonne--the lady!"

I knew from her tone that she saw in Mademoiselle's flight alone
sufficient reason for suspicion of mademoiselle and for alarm on my own
part. She, too, thought mademoiselle guilty, myself duped. I first
thought to pretend that mademoiselle's departure was a thing agreed on by
her and me, but it was no time to value the opinion of a peasant.

"On, Frojac!" I said, and on we went. We could make better speed now, for
the road, though little used and in bad condition, was continuous and,
unlike the forest path, comparatively free of intrusive vegetation. It
was hard, too, for the weather had been dry for a long time. The loud
clatter of the horses' hoofs was some relief to my eager heart.

There is a place where this road passes near the verge of a precipice,
which, like that at Maury, falls sheer to the road along the River Creuse
from Clochonne to Narjec. But, unlike that at Maury, this declivity is
bare of trees.

We were galloping steadily on and were approaching this place in the
road. Frojac was now riding at my side, as there was room for two
horsemen to go abreast.

"Hark!" said Frojac, suddenly. "Do you hear something?"

I heard the sounds made by our riding, but no other.

"Horsemen," he went on. "And men afoot, on the march!"

"Where?" I asked. We continued to gallop forward.

"Ahead," he answered. "Don't you hear, monsieur?"

I listened. Yes, there was the far-off sound of many shod feet striking
hard earth.

"It is ahead," said I.

"A body of troops," said Frojac.

"Then we may catch up with them."

"Or meet them. Perhaps they are coming this way."

"Troops on a night march!" said I.

Frojac looked at me. I saw written on his face the same thought that he
saw on mine.

"Whose else could they be?" he said. "And for what other purpose?"

Had Monsieur de la Chatre, then, chosen this night for a surprise and
attack on me at Maury? If he knew my hiding-place, why should he not have
done so? The idea of the ambush, then, had been abandoned? Perhaps,
indeed, the plan that I had overheard Montignac outline to La Chatre had
been greatly modified. Had mademoiselle, if she were in truth the
governor's agent, known of this night attack, if it were in truth a night
attack against me? Had she fled in order to avoid the shame or the danger
of being present at my capture? These and many other questions rushed
through my mind.

"What shall we do?" asked Frojac, after a time.

"Go on," said I.

"But if we meet them, and they are La Chatre's men, I fear that our
chances of catching up with the lady will be small."

"But, after all, we do not know who they are. If they are coming this
way, they must have met her by this time. Perhaps they have stopped her?
Who knows? I must follow her."

"But now it seems that the sound comes more from the north. They are
certainly coming nearer. They may be on the river road. We can see by
going to the edge of the precipice and looking down."

"We should lose time."

"'Tis but a little way out of the road. This is where the road is nearest
to the edge."

It might, indeed, be to my advantage to learn at once whether the troops
were in the road in front of us or in the road at the foot of the
mountain. So I fought down my impatience, and we turned from the road
towards the precipice. There was little underbrush here to hinder us,
and in a very short time we reined in our horses and looked down on the
vast stretch of moonlit country below.

At the very foot of the steep was the road that runs from Clochonne to
Narjec. And there, moving from the former towards the latter, went a
troop of horsemen, followed by a foot company of arquebusiers. They
trailed along, like a huge dark worm on the yellow way, following the
turns of the road. Seen from above, their figures were shortened and
looked squat.

I looked among the horsemen.

"I cannot see La Chatre," said I.

"But some of these are his men," said Frojac, "for I see my old comrade.
He knew nothing today of this march. I see most of the men of the
Clochonne garrison. I wonder what use they expect to make of their horses
if they intend to approach Maury from the river road."

I recalled now the exact words in which I had indicated to mademoiselle
the location of my hiding-place. I had said that it might be reached by
turning up the wooded hill from the river road, at the rock shaped like a
throne. Was it, indeed, in accordance with directions communicated to La
Chatre by her that they were now proceeding?

"If they are bound for Maury," said I, "they have hit on a good time.
Blaise and the men will have left there long before they arrive. Come,
Frojac, we lose precious minutes!"

"One thing is good, monsieur," said Frojac, as our horses resumed their
gallop towards Clochonne. "If we do have to follow the lady all the way
to Clochonne, we shall not find many soldiers there when we arrive.
Nearly all of La Chatre's men and the garrison troops are down there on
the river road, marching further from Clochonne every minute."

Alas, it was not then of troops to be encountered that I thought! It was
of what disclosure might be awaiting me concerning mademoiselle. Would
she admit her guilt or demonstrate her innocence? Would she prove to be
that other woman, or the one I had known? Would she laugh or weep, be
brazen or overwhelmed? How would she face me? That was my only thought.
Let me dare death a thousand times over, only to know the truth,--nay,
only to see her again!

So we sped forward on the road, which, by its length and its windings,
makes a gradual descent of the northern slope of the wooded ridge. At
last we came to the foot of the steep, emerged from the forest, turned
northward, and then saw before us, a little to the right, the sleeping
town of Clochonne. At the further end of that, on an eminence commanding
the river, stood the chateau, looking inaccessible and impregnable.

I thought of the day when I had first seen the chateau, the day when we
had come over the mountains from the south, and Frojac had pointed out to
me where it stood in the distance. That was before I had met mademoiselle
or knew that she was in the world. Little had I thought that ever I
should be hastening madly towards that chateau in the night on such an
errand or in such turmoil of heart!

We came to the point where the road by which we had come converges with
two others. One of these, joining from the right, also comes from the
south, and is, in fact, the new road across the mountains. The other,
joining from the left, is the road from Narjec, the one which runs along
the river and the base of the hills. It is this one which passes the
throne-shaped rock beneath Maury, and on which we had seen the troops.
Had we, coming from the mountains, reached this spot before the troops
coming from Clochonne reached it, we should have met them; but they had
passed this spot long before we had seen them from the height.

Blaise and the men, whom I had ordered to follow me, would nave left
Maury soon after I had. Certainly they would not be there when the
governor's troops should arrive. Coming by the road that I had used,
Blaise would not meet the governor's men on their way to Maury. But the
road by the river was much the shorter. The governor's men, on
discovering Maury deserted, might return immediately to Clochonne. They
might reach this spot before Blaise's men did, or about the same time.
Then there would be fighting.

These thoughts came into my mind at sight of the converging roads, not as
matters of concern to me, but as mere casual observations. There was
matter of greater moment to claim my anxiety. As to what might be the end
of this night, as to what might occur after my meeting with mademoiselle,
as to what might befall Blaise and my men, I had no thought.

And now, turning slightly northeastward, the road lay straight before us,
between the town wall and the river, up an incline, to the gate of the
chateau. This gate opens directly from the courtyard of the chateau to
the road outside the town wall. The chateau has a gate elsewhere, which
opens to the town, within the town wall.

The road ascended straight before us, I say, and on that road, making for
the chateau gate, was a horse, and on the horse a woman. She leaned
forward, urging the horse on. Over her shoulders was a mantle, a small
cap was on her head. Her hair streamed out behind her as she rode. My
heart gave a great bound.

"Look, Frojac! It is she!"

"We cannot catch her. She is too near the chateau."

"She will be detained at the gate."

"If she is the governor's agent, she will know what word to give the
guards. They will have orders to admit her, day or night. One who goes on
such business may be expected at any hour."

The manner of her reception at the gate, then, would disclose the truth.
If she were admitted without parley, it would be evident that she was in
the governor's service. My heart sank. Those who ride so fast towards
closed gates, at such an hour, expect the gates to let them in.

"Mademoiselle!" I called.

But my voice was hoarse. I had no command over it. I could not give it
volume. She made no sign. It was evident that she had not heard it. She
did not seem to know that she was pursued. She did not look back. Was she
so absorbed in her own thoughts, in her desire to reach her destination,
that she was conscious of nothing else?

Frojac was right. She was already too near the chateau for us to overtake
her before she arrived at the gate. We could but force our panting horses
to their best, and keep our eyes on her. The moon was now in the west,
and there was no object on the western side of the road to make a shadow.
So we did not once lose sight of her. She approached the chateau gate
without diminution of speed; it looked as if she heeded it not, or
expected the horse to leap it.

"Even if they do admit her promptly," said I, "it will take a little time
to lower the bridge over the ditch. We may then come up to her."

"Can you not see?" said Frojac. "The bridge is already down."

So it was. The troops had, doubtless, departed by this gate; the bridge,
let down for their departure, was still down, doubtless for their return.
The guards left at the chateau were, certainly, on the alert for this
return. In the event of any hostile force appearing in the meantime, they
could raise the bridge; but such an event was most unlikely. The only
hostile force in the vicinity was my own company. It is thus that I
accounted for the fact that the bridge was down.

Right up to the gate she rode, the horse coming to a quick stop on the
bridge at the moment when it looked as if he were about to dash his head
against the gate.

With straining ears I listened, as I rode on towards her.

She called out. I could hear her voice, but could not make out her
words. For some time she sat on her horse waiting, watching the gate
before her. I was surprised that she did not hear the clatter of our
horses and look around. Then she called again. I heard an answer from
the other side of the gate, and then the way was opened. She rode at
once into the courtyard.

We pressed on, Frojac and I, myself knowing not what was to come, he
content to follow me and face whatever might arise. The immediate thing
was to reach the chateau, as mademoiselle had done. Some means must be
found for getting entrance, for now that mademoiselle was inside, I
looked to see the gate fall into place at once.

But we beheld the unexpected. The gate remained open. No guard appeared
in the opening. We galloped up the hill, over the bridge, into the
courtyard. Nothing hindered us. What did it mean?

We stopped our horses and dismounted. There in the courtyard stood
mademoiselle's horse, trembling and panting, but mademoiselle herself had
disappeared. Before us was an open door, doubtless the principal entrance
to the chateau. Mademoiselle had probably gone that way.

"Come, Frojac!" said I, and started for this door.

But at that instant we heard rough exclamations and hasty steps behind
us. We turned and drew sword. From the guard-house by the gate, where
they must have been gambling or drinking or sleeping, or otherwise
neglecting their duty, came four men, who seemed utterly astonished at
sight of us.

"Name of the Virgin!" cried one. "The gate open! Where is Lavigue? He has
left his post! Who are you?"

"Enemies! Down with La Chatre!" I answered, seeing in a flash that an
attempt to fool them might be vain and would take time. A quick fight was
the thing to serve me best, for these men had been taken by surprise, and
two of them had only halberds, one had a sword, the fourth had an
arquebus but his match was out.

It was the man with the sword who had spoken. He it was who now
spoke again:

"Enemies? Prisoners, then! Yield!"

And he rushed up to us, accompanied by the halberdiers, while the
arquebusier ran to light his match at a torch in the guard-house.

Never was anything so expeditiously done. The leader knew nothing of fine
sword work. I had my point through his lungs before the halberdiers came
up. While I was pulling it out, one of the halberdiers aimed a blow at
me, and the other threatened Frojac. My follower dodged the thrust meant
for him, and at the same instant laid low, with a wound in the side, the
fellow who was aiming at me. Thus one of the halberdiers followed the
swordsman to earth instantly. The second halberdier recovered himself,
and made to attack Frojac again, but I caught his weapon in my left hand,
and so held it, while Frojac ran towards the arquebusier, who was now
coming from the guard-house with lighted match. The halberdier, whose
weapon I now grasped in one hand, while I held my sword in the other,
took fright, let his weapon go, and ran from the courtyard through the
open gateway. The arquebusier tried to bring his weapon to bear on
Frojac, but Frojac dropped on his knees and, thrusting from below, ran
his sword into the man's belly. The man fell with a groan, dropping his
weapon and his match.

I looked around. The courtyard was empty. Were these four, then, the only
soldiers that had been left to guard the chateau? No, for these four had
been surprised to find the gate open. Some one else must have opened the
gate for mademoiselle. Moreover, the swordsman had spoken of a Lavigue.
"Take the arquebus and the match, Frojac," said I, "and come. There is
nothing to be done here at present."

He obeyed me, and we returned to the door of the chateau. Just as we were
about to enter, I heard steps as of one coming down a staircase within.
Then a man came out. He was a common soldier and he carried a halberd. At
sight of us he stopped, and stood in the greatest astonishment. Then he
looked towards the gate. His expression became one of the utmost
consternation.

A thought came to me. I recalled what the swordsman said.

"You are Lavigue?" said I to the soldier.

"Yes," he said, bewildered.

"You were on duty at that gate, but you left your post."

"Yes, but--"

"But you first opened the gate for a lady."

"It was not I, monsieur," he answered, as if anxious to exonerate
himself, although he knew not to whom he was talking. "It was my comrade.
He said he knew the woman, and that the governor would wish her instantly
admitted, and he opened the gate. When she came in, I would have had her
wait at the gate till M. de la Chatre had been informed, but she ran into
the chateau, and my comrade with her. There must be something wrong, I
thought, if my comrade would leave his post to go in with the lady. So I
ran after them to get her to come back. It was my thought of my duty that
made me forget the gate. Indeed it was so, monsieur."

He evidently thought that we were friends of the governor's who had
happened to arrive at the chateau at this hour.

So he, at least, had not received orders to admit mademoiselle. Joyful
hope! Perhaps there had been no understanding between her and the
governor, after all! But his comrade had let her in, had said that the
governor would wish the gate opened to her at once. Then there was an
understanding.

"Where is your comrade?" I asked.

"I left him with the lady, in the chamber at the head of the staircase.
Ah, I hear him coming down the stairs!"

"Look to this man, Frojac," said I, and then hastened into the chateau.
The moonlight through the open door showed a large vestibule, from which
the staircase ascended towards the right. The man coming down this
staircase was at the bottom step when I entered the vestibule. He stopped
there, taken by surprise. I saw that he was of short stature and slight
figure. I caught him by the back of the neck with my left hand, and
brought him to his knees before me.

"Where is the lady who but now entered the chateau?" I said. "Why are you
silent, knave?"

He trembled in my grasp, and I turned his face up towards mine. It was
the face of mademoiselle's boy, Pierre, who had left us in the forest!

"You here?" I cried. "It was you, then, who opened the gate to her! How
came you here? Speak, if ever you would see the blue sky again!"

I pressed my fingers into his throat, until he choked and the fear of
death showed in his starting eyes; then I released my clasp, that he
might speak.

"Oh, monsieur, have mercy!" he gasped. "Do not kill me!"

I saw that he was thoroughly frightened for his life. He was but a
boy, and to a boy the imminent prospect of closing one's eyes forever
is not pleasant.

"Speak, then! Tell the truth!" I said, still holding him by the neck,
ready to tighten my clasp at any moment.

"I will, I will!" he said. "I went from Mlle. de Varion to M. de la
Chatre, with a message, and he kept me in his service."

"What message? The truth, boy! I shall see in your eyes whether or not it
be truth you tell me, and if you lie your eyes shall never look on the
world again. Quick, what message?"

"That I came from Mlle. de Varion to the governor," he answered, huskily,
"and that at the top of the hill that rises from the throne-shaped rock
by the river road to Narjec is the burrow of the Huguenot fox!"

The last doubt, the last hope, was gone!

"My God!" I cried, and cast the boy away from me. What now to me was he
or anything that he might do or say? He cowered for a moment on the
ground, looking up at me, and then, seeing that I no longer heeded him,
ran out to the courtyard.

For a moment I stood alone in the vestibule, crushed by the terrible
certainty. All women, then, were as bad as Mlle. d'Arency. The sweet and
tender girl who had filled my heart was as the worst of them. To be
betrayed was deplorable, but to be betrayed by her! To find her a
traitress was terrible, but that I should be her dupe! And that I should
still love her, love her, love her!

What, she was in the chateau, under this roof, and I tarried here
deploring her treason when I might be at her side, clasping her, looking
into her eyes! "In the chamber at the head of the staircase," the guard
had said. I forgot Frojac, the guard, Pierre. But one thought, one
desire, one impulse, possessed me. With my dripping sword in my hand, I
bounded up the stairs. They led me to a narrow gallery, which had windows
on the side next the courtyard. There were doors on the other side. A
single light burned. No one was in the gallery. The door nearest the
staircase landing was slightly open. I ran to it and into the chamber to
which it gave entrance.

As in the gallery, so in the chamber, I found no one. I stood just within
the threshold and looked around. The walls of the apartment were hung
with tapestry. At the right was first a window, then a chimney-place,
beside which stood a sword, then a _prieu-dieu._ Before the fireplace was
a table, on which were a lamp burning, paper, ink, pens, and a large bowl
of fruit. At the left of the chamber was a large bed, its curtains drawn
aside. Beside this was another table, on which was an empty tray. There
was a door, slightly ajar, in that side of the room, and another in the
side that faced me. On the back of a chair near the fireplace was slung a
hunting-horn. On a stool near the door by which I had entered lay a belt
with a dagger in sheath. The bed looked as if some one had recently lain
on it. The presence of the fruit, writing materials, and other things
seemed to indicate that this was the chamber of M. de la Chatre. But why
was he not in his bed? Probably he could not sleep while he awaited the
result of this midnight enterprise of his troops. Certainly the servants
in the chateau were asleep. It was apparent that the six guards, four of
whom we had disposed of, were the only soldiers left at the chateau, for,
if there had been any others in the guard-house, they would have been
awakened by the fight in the courtyard. How many troops were left in the
town, I could not know, but they would not come to the chateau during the
night unless brought by an alarm. So there would not be many to interpose
themselves between mademoiselle and me. But where was she? Whither
should I first turn to seek her.

I had well-nigh chosen to try the room at the left, when the door
opposite me opened without noise, and a figure glided into the chamber,
swiftly and silently. The movement was that of a person who rapidly
traverses a place in search of some one.

"Mademoiselle!"

She heard me, saw me, stopped, and stood with parted lips, astounded
face, and terror-stricken eyes.

So we stood, the width of the room between us, regarding each other.




CHAPTER XVI.

BEHIND THE CURTAINS


So we stood. Irresistible as had been my impulse to follow her, I now
found myself held back, as if by the look in her eyes, from approaching
nearer. So, while she gazed at me in wonder and terror, I regarded her
with inexpressible scorn and love, horror and adoration.

Presently she spoke, in a terrified whisper:

"Why are you here?"

I answered in a low voice:

"Because you are here. Like a poisonous flower you lure me. A flower you
are in outward beauty! Never was poison more sweetly concealed than is
treachery in you!"

"You were mad to follow me!" she said, and then she cast a quick,
apprehensive glance around the chamber, a glance that took in the
different doors one after another.

I thought she meant that, as we were in the stronghold of my enemies and
her friends, it would be madness in me to attempt to punish her
treachery. So I replied:

"Seek not to fright me from vengeance, for I intend none! I did not come
to punish. I do not know why it is, but where you are not I cannot rest.
I am drawn to you as by some power of magic. I would be with you even in
hell! Spy, traitress that you are, I love you! Your dupe that I am, I
love you!" I went to where, with downcast eyes, she stood, and I caught
her hand and pressed it to my lips. "I make myself a jest, a thing for
laughter, do I not, kissing the hand that would slay me?"

She raised her eyes, and held out her hand towards the fire-place,
saying:

"The hand that I would thrust into the flame to save you from the
lightest harm!"

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