The Colorado statesman., 1917-03-24

vi GNO Hetboec UJcos %'hN Noe l0H'ONo VI
these tales are the French tales of
the thirteenth century, and from
one of them is taken the story pre-
sented today. 1t deals aDith that
part of the Champagne from Sois=
sons to Reims, phere today a long
line is held desperately by French
md Germans, who are face to face,
md in some parts almost aDithin
touch OF each other.
Messire William was loyal knight
of Champagne who was honored by
all men who priced truth and nobility.
His fortune, however, did not equal
his merit. He possessed a castle, it is
true; but the only income that he had
was obtained painfully in tournaments,
out of the ransoms of his overthrown
adversaries.
He owned only one thing that was
valuable. 1t was his horse. Gray it
was, flower-bright of coat. Never had
men seen another such steed, so proud,
so impetuous and yet so dainty of foot.
Men near and far coveted it and offered
him wealth for it, but he would not lis
ten. Between these two, knight and
horse, there was a great love as be-
tween brothers.
Poor as he was, Messire William set
his heart on the daughter of the rich
est lord in all the Champagne. She
was as good as she was beautiful,
which Is no scanty praise, since the
minstrels all sang that she was in
truth part and parcel of the loveliness
Of their land.
She gave her heart to the tall, splen-
did knight, but never could they meet.
Her father kept her close, never per-
mitting her to pass from the battle
ments and walled gardens. Still the
knight rode to her castle every day,
and every day they saw each other and
talked love, though they could do it
only through a gap in the masonry of
great wall.
Although he well knew the futility
Of it. Messire William ventured at
last to ask her father for her hand.
"Think you am so besotted as to give
my child to a knight who lives by
play?" roared the old man. "She shall
marry no beggar have not yet found
the man, from Scissors to Reims, and
from Reims to Chalons, or from the
Lorraine to Germany, who is rich
enough to match mel This fruit is too
high for your seekingW
."Cursed be your fathers wealth"
said the knight when he saw his sweet
heart again.
II would go with you gladly, and be
beggar!" said she. "But my father
10 old, and prayers will not move him,
for age and youth cannot understand
each other. Yet I would counsel you.
Have you not an uncle, fully as rich
as my father? And do these two not
greatly honor each other? Why do you
not ride to him and ask for his inter-
cession?"
The knight took courage and rode to
his aged relative, who not only agreed
to help him, but started at once, tell
Ing the knight to return to his own
castle and wait for word from him.
1t was an evil word that reached
him after a week of anxious waiting. A
friend brought him the news that his
uncle had wooed indeed, but not for
his nephew. He had wooed and won
for himself, and the girl, locked safely
within the castle, could do nothing but
wiring her hands.
Scarcely had the news reached the
poor knight before one of the noble
mans varlets arrived to ask him for
his steed. "My lord prays you," was
the message, "to lead your beautiful
horse to carry his daughter in honor
- and state to the church on her we'd
ding MORN"
''May heaven bless my wicked uncle
never for this foul, reasonable deed"
lamented the knight. "He has killed
mel Cain wrought no redder wrong!
Yet will send my horse gladly to her
who gave me her dear love. 1t is the
last service 1 can do her. Never shall
{ hear her sweet voice again or see her
come to meet me, dainty-fair! Saddle
the horse with my best gear and lead
It to the most tender of maidens"
That night the wedding company in
:he rich mans castle feasted and made
so merry that when the warders sound
ed their trumpets at dawn to awaken
all for the wedding journey to the
church, city guests and guards were
alike sleepy and before they had rid
den far they were nodding in their sad
dies.
Even those who were detailed to
guard the bride rode with closed eyes.
Soon there was none to guide the
brides horse, for she rode weeping
with thoughts far away, and the reins
lay idle on the animals neck.
When the procession entered devil
Gus forest trail, the horse, being left to
itself, turned off on his own account
and entered hidden woodland path
that led to Messire Williams home.