{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_39591/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_39591","id":"gutenberg_39591","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39591","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Knights and knighthood -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Cover]\n\n\n\n\n_KEEPING TRYST_\n\n_A TALE OF KING ARTHUR'S TIME_\n\n\n\n\nThe Johnston Jewel Series\n\nBY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON\n\n    Each, small 16mo, cloth,\n    decorated cover and frontispiece,\n    with decorative text\n    borders           _75c._\n\n\nLIST OF TITLES\n\n      THE RESCUE OF THE PRINCESS WINSOME: A Fairy Play for\n      Old and Young.\n\n      KEEPING TRYST: A Tale of King Arthur's Time.\n\n      *IN THE DESERT OF WAITING: The Legend of Camelback\n      Mountain.\n\n      *THE THREE WEAVERS: A Fairy Tale for Fathers and\n      Mothers as Well as for Their Daughters.\n\n      THE LEGEND OF THE BLEEDING HEART.\n\n      *THE JESTER'S SWORD.\n\n*Also bound in full flexible leather, with special tooling in gold,\nboxed _$2.00_\n\n\n    THE PAGE COMPANY\n    53 BEACON STREET, BOSTON, MASS.\n\n[Illustration: I am Ederyn come to keep the King's tryst]\n\n\n\n\n_KEEPING TRYST_\n\nA Tale of King Arthur's Time\n\n    \"_'Tis the king's call. O list!\n    Thou heart and hand of mine,\n        Keep tryst--\n        Keep tryst or die!_\"\n\nBY ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON\n\n    _Author of \"The Little Colonel Series,\" \"Big\n    Brother,\" \"Joel: A Boy of Galilee,\" etc._\n\n[Illustration]\n\n    BOSTON\n    _THE PAGE COMPANY_\n    PUBLISHERS\n\n\n\n\n    _Copyright, 1905_\n    BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY\n    (Incorporated)\n\n\n    _Copyright, 1906_\n    BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY\n    (Incorporated)\n\n\n    _All rights reserved_\n\n\n    Second Impression, December, 1906\n    Third Impression, April, 1910\n    Fourth Impression, May, 1911\n    Fifth Impression, February, 1914\n    Sixth Impression, April, 1918\n    Seventh Impression, June, 1920\n\n\n    _COLONIAL PRESS_\n    _Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co._\n    _Boston, U.S.A._\n\n\n\n\n_Keeping Tryst_\n\n\nNOW there was a troubadour in the kingdom of Arthur, who, strolling\nthrough the land with only his minstrelsy to win him a way, found in\nevery baron's hall and cotter's hut a ready welcome. And while the\nboar's head sputtered on the spit, or the ale sparkled in the shining\ntankards, he told such tales of joust and journey, and feats of brave\nknight errantry, that even the scullions left their kitchen tasks, and,\ncreeping near, stood round the door with mouths agape to listen.\n\nThen with his harp-strings tuned to echoes of the wind on winter moors,\nhe sang of death and valour on the field, of love and fealty in the\nhall, till those who listened forgot all save his singing and the noble\nknights whereof he sang.\n\nOne winter night, as thus he carolled in a great earl's hall, a little\npage crept nearer to his bench beside the fire, and, with his blue eyes\nfixed in wonderment upon the graybeard's face, stood spellbound. Now\nEderyn was the page's name, an orphan lad whose lineage no man knew,\nbut that he came of gentle blood all eyes could see, although as vassal\n'twas his lot to wait upon the great earl's squire.\n\nIt was the Yule-tide, and the wassail-bowl passed round till boisterous\nmirth drowned oftentimes the minstrel's song, but Ederyn missed no word.\nScarce knowing what he did, he crept so close he found himself with\nupturned face against the old man's knee.\n\n\"How now, thou flaxen-haired,\" the minstrel said, with kindly smile.\n\"Dost like my song?\"\n\n\"Oh, sire,\" the youth made answer, \"methinks on such a wing the soul\ncould well take flight to Paradise. But tell me, prithee, is it possible\nfor such as _I_ to gain the title of a knight? How doth one win such\nhonours and acclaim and reach the high estate that thou dost laud?\"\n\nThe minstrel gazed a little space into the Yule log's flame, and stroked\nhis long hoar beard. Then made he answer:\n\n\"Some win their spurs and earn the royal accolade because the blood of\ndragons stains their hands. From mighty combat with these terrors they\ncome victorious to their king's reward. And some there be sore scarred\nwith conquest of the giants that ever prey upon the borders of our fair\ndomain. Some, who have gone on far crusades to alien lands, and there\nwith heart of gold and iron hand have proved their fealty to the Crown.\"\n\nThen Ederyn sighed, for well he knew his stripling form could never\nwage fierce combat with a dragon. His hands could never meet the brawny\ngrip of giants. \"Is there no other way?\" he faltered.\n\n\"I wot not,\" was the answer. \"But take an old man's counsel. Forget thy\ndreams of glory, and be content to serve thy squire. For what hast such\nas thou to do with great ambitions? They'd prove but flames to burn\naway thy daily peace.\"\n\nWith that he turned to quaff the proffered bowl and add his voice to\nthose whose mirth already shook the rafters. Nor had he any further\nspeech with Ederyn. But afterward the pretty lad was often in his\nthoughts, and in his wanderings about the land he mused upon the\nquestion he had asked.\n\nAnother twelvemonth sped its way, and once again the Yule log burned\nwithin the hall, and once again the troubadour knocked at the gate, all\nin the night and falling snow. And as before, with merry jests they led\nhim in and made him welcome. And as before, was every mouth agape from\nsquire's to scullion's, as he sang.\n\nOnce more he sang of knights and ladyes fair, of love and death and\nvalour; and Ederyn, the page, crept nearer to him till the harp-strings\nceased to thrill. With head upon his hands, he sat and sighed. Not even\nwhen the wassail-bowl was passed with mirth and laughter did he look up.\nAnd when the graybeard minstrel saw his grief, he thought upon his\nquestion of the Yule-tide gone.\n\n\"Ah, now, thou flaxen-haired,\" he whispered in his ear. \"I bear thee\ntidings which should make thee sing for joy. There _is_ a way for even\nsuch as thou to win the honours thou dost covet. I heard it in the royal\ncourt when last I sang there at the king's behest.\"\n\nThen all aquiver with his eagerness did Ederyn kneel, with face alight,\nbeside the minstrel's knee to hear.\n\n\"Know this,\" began the graybeard. \"'Tis the king's desire to 'stablish\nround him at his court a chosen circle whose fidelity hath stood the\nutmost test. Not deeds of prowess are required of these true followers,\nwith no great conquests doth he tax them, but they must prove\nthemselves trustworthy, until on hand and heart it may be graven large,\n'_In all things faithful_.'\n\n\"To Merlin, the enchanter, he hath left the choice, who by some strange\nspell I wot not of will send an eerie call through all the kingdom. And\nonly those will hear who wake at dawn to listen in high places. And only\nthose will heed who keep the compass needles of their souls true to the\nnorth star of a great ambition. The time of testing will be long, the\nsummons many. To duty and to sorrow, to disappointment and defeat, thou\nmay'st be called. No matter what the tryst, there is but one reply if\nthou wouldst win thy knighthood. Give heed and I will teach thee now\nthat answer.\"\n\nThen smiting on his harp, the minstrel sang, so softly under cover of\nthe noise, that only Ederyn heard. Through all the song ran ever this\nrefrain. It seemed a brooklet winding in and out through some fair\nmeadow:\n\n    \"'Tis the king's call. O list!\n     Thou heart and hand of mine, keep tryst--\n          Keep tryst or die!\"\n\nThen Ederyn, with his hand upon his heart, made solemn oath. \"Awake at\ndawn and listening in high places will I await that call. With the\ncompass needle of my soul true to the north star of a great ambition\nwill I follow where it leads, and though through fire and flood it take\nme, I'll make but this reply:\n\n    \"''Tis the king's call. O list!\n     Thou heart and hand of mine, keep tryst--\n         Keep tryst or die!'\"\n\nPressing the old man's hand in gratitude (he could say no word for the\nstrange fulness in his throat that well-nigh choked him), he rose from\nhis knees and left the hall to muse on what had passed.\n\nThat night he climbed into the tower, and, with his face turned to the\neast, kept vigil all alone. Below, the rioters waxed louder in their\nmirth. The knife was in the meat, the drink was in the horn. But he\nwould not join their revels, lest morning find him sunk in sodden sleep,\nheavy with feasting and witless from wine.\n\nAs gray dawn trailed across the hills, he started to his feet, for far\naway sounded the call for which he had been waiting. It was like the\nfaint blowing of an elfin horn, but the words came clearly.\n\n\"Ederyn! Ederyn! One awaits thee at nightfall in the shade of the\nyew-tree by the abbey tower! Keep tryst!\"\n\nNow the abbey tower was the space of forty furlongs from the domain of\nthe earl, and full well Ederyn knew that only by especial favour of his\nsquire could he gain leave of absence for this jaunt. So, from sunrise\nuntil dusk, he worked with will, to gain the wished-for leave. Never\nbefore did buckles shine as did the buckles of the squire entrusted to\nhis polishing. Never did menial tasks cease sooner to be drudgery,\nbecause of the good-will with which he worked. And when the day was\ndone, so well had every duty been performed, right willingly the squire\ndid grant him grace, and forthwith Ederyn sped upon his mission.\n\nThe way was long, and, when he reached the abbey tree, he fell\na-trembling, for there a tall wraith stood within the shadows of the\nyew. No face had it that he could see, its hands no substance, but he\nmet it bravely, saying: \"I am Ederyn, come to keep the king's tryst.\"\n\nAnd then the spectre's voice replied: \"Well hast thou kept it, for 'tis\nknown to me the many menial tasks thou didst perform ere thou couldst\ncome upon thy quest. In token that we two have met, here is my pledge\nthat thou may'st keep to show the king.\"\n\nHe felt a light touch on the bosom of his inner vestment, and suddenly\nhe stood alone beside the gruesome abbey. Clammy with fear, he knew not\nwhy, he drew his mantle round him and sped home as one speeds in a\nfearsome dream. And that it was a dream he half-believed, when later, in\nthe hall, he served at meat those gathered round the old earl's board.\nBut when he sought his bed, and threw aside his outer garment, there on\nhis coarse, rough shirt of hodden gray a pearl gleamed white above his\nheart, where the wraith's cold hand had touched him. It was the token to\nthe king that he had answered faithfully his call.\n\nAgain before the dawn he climbed into the tower, and, listening when\nthe voices of the world were still, heard clear and sweet, like\nfar-blown elfin horn, another summons.\n\n\"Ederyn! Ederyn! One awaits thee at the midnight hour beside black\nKilgore's water. Keep tryst!\"\n\nAgain to gain his squire's permission he toiled with double care. This\ntime his task was counting all the spears and halberds, the battle-axes\nand the coats of mail that filled the earl's great armament. And o'er\nand o'er he counted, keeping careful tally with a bit of keel upon the\niron-banded door, till the red lines that he marked there made his eyes\nache and his head swim. At last the task was finished, and so well the\nsquire praised him, and for his faithfulness again was fain to speed\nhim on his way.\n\nIt was a woful journey to the waters of Kilgore. Sleep weighed on\nEderyn's eyelids, and haltingly he went the weary miles, footsore and\nworn. But midnight found him on the spot where one awaited him, another\nwraith-like envoy of the king, and it, too, left a touch upon his heart\nin token he had kept the tryst. And when he looked, another pearl\ngleamed there beside the first.\n\nSo many a day went by, and Ederyn failed not in his homely tasks, but\ncarried to his common round of duties all his might, as if they were\ngreat feats of prowess. Thus gained he liberty to keep the tryst with\nevery messenger the king did send.\n\nOnce he fared forth along a dangerous road that led he knew not where,\nand, when he found it crossed a loathly swamp all filled with slime and\ncreeping things, fain would he have fled. But, pushing on for sake of\nhis brave oath, although with fainting heart, he reached the goal at\nlast. This time his token made him wonder much. For when he wakened from\nhis swoon, a shining star lay on his heart above the pearls.\n\nNow it fell out the squire to whom this Ederyn was page was killed in\nconflict with a robber band, and Ederyn, for his faithfulness, was taken\nby the earl to fill that squire's place. Soon after that, they left the\nhall, and journeyed on a visit to a distant lord. 'Twas to the Castle of\nContent they came, where was a joyous garden. And now no menial tasks\nemployed the new squire's time. Here was he free to wander all the day\nthrough vistas of the joyous garden, or loiter by the fountain in the\ncourtyard and watch the maidens at their tasks, having fair speech with\nthem among the flowers. And one there was among them, so lily-like in\nface, so gentle-voiced and fair, that Ederyn well-nigh forgot his oath,\nand felt full glad when for a space the king's call ceased to sound. And\ngladder was he still, when, later on, the earl's long visit done, he\nleft young Ederyn behind to serve the great lord of the castle, for so\nthe two friends had agreed, since Ederyn had pleased the old lord's\nfancy.\n\nYet was he faithful to his vow, and failed not every dawn to mount to\nsome high place, when all the voices of the world were still, and listen\nfor the sound of Merlin's horn. One morn it came:\n\n\"Ederyn! Ederyn! One waits thee far away. By the black cave of Atropos,\nwhen the moon fulls, keep thy tryst!\"\n\nNow 'twas a seven days' journey to that cave, and Ederyn, thinking of\nthe lily maid, was loath to leave the garden. He lingered by the\nfountain until nightfall, saying to himself: \"Why should I go on longer\nin these foolish quests, keeping tryst with shadows that vanish at the\ntouch? No nearer am I to a knight's estate than when, a stripling page,\nI listened to the minstrel's tales.\"\n\nThe fountain softly splashed within the garden. From out the\nbanquet-hall there stole the sound of tinkling lutes, and then the lily\nmaiden sang. Her siren voice filled all his heart, and he forgot his\noath to duty. But presently a star reflected in the fountain made him\nlook up into the jewelled sky, where shone the polar constellation. And\nthere he read the oath he had forgotten: \"With the compass needle of my\nsoul true to the north star of my great ambition, I will follow where it\nleads.\"\n\nThrusting his fingers in his ears to silence the beloved voice of her\nwho sang, he madly rushed from out the garden into the blackness of the\nnight. The Castle of Content clanged its great gate behind him. He\nshivered as he felt the jar through all his frame, but, never taking\nout his fingers, on he ran, till scores of furlongs lay between him and\nthe tempting of that siren voice.\n\nIt was a strange and fearsome wood that lay between him and the cave.\nAll things seemed moaning and afraid. He saw no forms, but everywhere\nthe shadows shuddered, and moans and groans pursued him till nameless\nfears clutched at his heart with icy chill. Then suddenly the earth\nslipped way beneath his feet, and cold waves closed above his head. He\nknew now he had fallen in the pool that lies upon the far edge of the\nfearsome wood,--a pool so deep and of such whirling motion that only by\nthe fiercest struggle may one escape. Gladly he would have allowed the\nwaters to close over him, such cold pains smote his heart, had he not\nseemed to hear the old minstrel's song. It aroused him to a final\neffort, and he gasped between his teeth:\n\n    \"''Tis the king's call! O list!\n     Thou heart and hand of mine, keep tryst--\n          Keep tryst or die!'\"\n\nWith that, in one mighty struggle he dragged himself to land. A\nbow-shot farther on he saw the cave, and by sheer force of will crept\ntoward it. What happened then he knew not till the moon rose full and\nhigh above him. A form swathed all in black bowed over him.\n\n\"Ederyn,\" she sighed, \"here is thy token that the king may know that\nthou hast met me face to face.\"\n\nHe thought it was a diamond at first, that sparkled there beside the\nstar, but when he looked again, lo, nothing but a tear.\n\nThen went he back unto the joyous garden by slow degrees, for he was now\nsore spent. And after that the summons came full often. Whenever all the\nworld seemed loveliest and life most sweet, then was the call most sure\nto come. But never once he faltered. Never was he faithless to the\nking's behest. Up weary mountain steps he toiled to find the sombre face\nof Disappointment there in waiting, and Suffering and Pain were often at\nhis journey's end, and once a sore Defeat. But bravely as the months\nwent by he learned to smile into their eyes, no matter which one handed\nout to him the pledge of Duty well performed.\n\nOne day, when he no longer was a beardless youth, but grown to pleasing\nstature and of great brawn, he heard the hoped-for call of which he long\nhad dreamed: \"Ederyn! Ederyn! The king himself awaits thee. Midsummer\nmorn at lark-song, keep tryst beside the palace gate.\"\n\nAs travellers on the desert, spent and worn, see far across the sand the\npalm-tree's green that marks life-giving wells, so Ederyn hailed this\nsummons to the king. The soul-consuming thirst that long had urged him\non grew fiercer as the well of consummation came in sight. Hope shod his\nfeet with wings, as thus with every nerve a-strain he pushed toward the\nfinal tryst. So fearful was he some mishap might snatch the cup away ere\nit had touched his thirsty lips, that three full days before the time he\nreached the Vale of Avalon, and sat him down outside the entrance to the\npalace.\n\nNow there came prowling through the wood that edged the fair domain the\ngnarled dwarfs that do the will of Shudderwain. And Shudderwain, of all\nthe giants thereabouts, most cruel was and to be feared. Knowing full\nwell what pleasure it would give the bloody monster, these dwarfs laid\nevil hands on Ederyn. Sleeping they found him, and bound him with hard\nleathern thongs, and then with gibes and impish laughter dragged him\ninto a dungeon past the help of man.\n\nTwo days and nights he lay there, raging at fate and at his\nhelplessness, till he was well-nigh mad, bethinking him of all his\nbaffled hopes. And like a madman gnawed he on the leathern thongs till\nhe was free, and beat his hands against the stubborn rock that would not\nyield, and threw himself against the walls that held him in.\n\nThe dwarfs from time to time peered through the slatted window overhead\nand mocked him, pointing with their crooked thumbs.\n\n\"Ha! ha! Thou'lt keep no tryst,\" they chattered. \"But if thou'lt swear\nupon thy oath to go back to the joyous garden, and hark no more for\nMerlin's call, we'll let thee loose from out this Dungeon of thy\nDisappointment.\"\n\nThen was Ederyn tempted, for the dungeon was foul indeed, and his heart\ncried out to go back to the lily maiden. But once more in his ears he\nthrust his fingers and cried:\n\n    \"'To the king's call alone I'll list!\n     Oh, heart and hand of mine, keep tryst--\n          Keep tryst or die!'\"\n\nOn the third night, with the quiet of despair he threw him prone upon\nthe dungeon floor and held his peace, no longer gnawing on his thongs or\nbeating on the rock. A single moonbeam straggled through the slatted\nwindow, and by its light he saw a spider spinning out a web. Then,\nlooking dully around, he saw the dungeon was hung thick with other webs,\nfoul with the dust of years. Great festoons of the cobweb film shrouded\nhis prison walls. As up and down the hairy creature swung itself upon\nits thread, the hopeless eyes of Ederyn followed it.\n\nAll in a twinkling he saw how he might profit by the spider's teaching,\nand clapped his hand across his mouth to keep from shouting out his joy\nso that the dwarfs could hear. Now once more like a madman rushing at\nthe walls, he tore down all the dusty webs, and twisted them together in\nlong strands. These strands he braided in thick ropes and tied them,\nknotting them and twisting and doubling once again. All the while he\nkept bewailing the stupid way in which he wasted time. \"Three days ago I\nmight have quit this den,\" he sighed, \"had I but used the means that\nlay at hand. Full well I knew that heaven always finds a way to help the\nman who helps himself. No creature lives too mean to be of service, and\neven dungeon walls must harbour help for him who boldly grasps the first\nthing that he sees and makes it serve him.\"\n\nSo fast and furiously he worked that, long before the moonbeam faded,\nhis cobweb rope was strong enough to bear his weight, and long enough to\nreach twice over to the slatted window overhead. By many trials he at\nlast succeeded in throwing it around a spike that barred the window,\nand, climbing up, he forced the slats apart and clambered through. Then\ntying the rope's end to the window, he slid down all the dizzy\ncliffside in which the dwarfs had dug the dungeon, and dropped into the\nstream that ran below.\n\nLo, when he looked around him it was dawn. Midsummer morn it was, and,\nplunging through the wood, he heard the lark's song rise, and reached\nthe palace gate just as it opened to the blare of trumpets for the\nking's train to ride forth. When Ederyn saw the royal cavalcade, he\nshrunk back into the wayside bushes, so ill-befitting did it seem that\nhe should come before the king in tattered garments, with blood upon his\nhands where the sharp rocks had cut, and with foul dungeon stains.\n\nBut that the king might know he'd ever proven faithful, he sank upon his\nknees and bared his breast at his approach. There all the pledges\nglistened in the sunlight, in rainbow hues. There Pain had dropped her\nheart's blood in a glittering ruby, and Honour set her seal upon him in\na golden star. A diamond gleamed where Sorrow's tear had fallen, and\namethysts glowed now with purple splendour to mark his patient meeting\nwith Defeat. But mostly were the pledges little pearls for little\nduties faithfully performed; and there they shone, and, as the people\ngazed, they saw the jewels take the shape of letters, so that the king\nread out before them all, \"_Semper fidelis_.\"\n\nThen drew the king his royal sword and lightly smote on Ederyn's\nshoulder, and cried: \"Arise, Sir Knight, Sir Ederyn the Trusty. Since I\nmay trust thee to the utmost in little things as well as great, since\nthou of all men art most worthy, henceforth by thy king's heart thou\nshalt ride, ever to be his faithful guard and comrade.\"\n\nSo there before them all he did him honour, and ordered that a prancing\nsteed be brought and a good sword buckled on his side.\n\nThus Ederyn won his sovereign's favour. Soon, by his sovereign's grace\npermitted, he went back to the joyous garden to woo the lily maiden.\nWhen he had won his bride and borne her to the palace, then was his\ngreat reward complete for all his years of fealty to his vow. Then out\ninto the world he went to guard his king. Henceforth blazoned on his\nshield and helmet he bore the crest--a heart with hand that grasped a\nspear, and, underneath, these words:\n\n    \"_I keep the tryst!_\"\n\n\nTHE END.","title":"Keeping Tryst: A Tale of King Arthur's Time","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":4130}