Adventure Magazine Cover — page 61: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Wife of Flanders of Egypt and the fruits and wines of Greece and the woven stuffs of Asia till the marts of Flanders had the savor of Araby. “Presently in our booths could be seen silks of Italy and choice metals from Inns- bruck and furs from Muscovy and strange birds and beasts from Prester John’s country, and at our fairs such a concourse of outland- ish traders as put Venice toshame. It wasa long fight and a bitter for Willebald and me, since, mark you, we had to make a new road over icy mountains, with a horde of free- booters hanging on the skirts of our mer- chant-trains and every little burg on the way jealous to hamper us. “Vet if the heart be resolute, barriers will fall. Many times we were on the edge of beggary, and grievous were our losses, but in the end we triumphed. There came a day when we had so many bands of the Free Companions in our pay that the progress of our merchandise was like that of a great army, and from rivals we made the roadside burgs our allies, sharing modestly in our ventures. “‘Also there were other ways. A pilgrim travels unsuspected, for who dare rob a holy ‘man? And he is free from burghal dues; but if the goods be small and very precious, pilgrims may carry them.” The monk, as in duty bound, shook a dis- approving head. “Sin, doubtless,” said the woman, “but I have made ample atonement. Did I not buy with a bushel of gold a leg of the blessed St. George for the New Kirk and give to St. Martin’s a ruby as big as a thumb-nail and ~ so bright that on a dark day it is a candle to the shrine? Did not I give to our Lady at Aix a crown of ostrich-feathers, the marrow of which is not in Christendom?” ‘““A mother in Israel, in truth,” murmured the cleric. , “Yes, in Israel,” said the old wife with a chuckle. “Israel was the kernel of our per- plexities. The good Flemings saw no far- ther than their noses and laughed at Wille- bald when he began his ventures. When success came, it was easy to win them over, and by admitting them to a share in our profits, get them to fling their caps in the air and huzza for their benefactors. “But the Jews were a tougher stock. _ Mark you, father, when God blinded their eyes to the coming of the Lord Christ, He opened them very wide to all lower matters. Their imagination is quick to kindle, and 51 they are as bold in merchantcraft as Char- lemagne in war.. They saw what I was after before I had been a month at it and were quick to profit by my foresight. There are but two ways to deal with Israelites—root them from the face of the earth or make them partners with you. Willebald would have fought them; I, more wise, bought them at a price. For two score years they have wrought faithfully for me. You say well, a mother in Israel!” “T could wish that a Christian lady had no dealings with the accursed race,” said the Cluniac. ’ “You could wish folly,’ was the tart an- swer. “I am not as your burgher-felk, and for my own affairs I take no man’s guiding, be he monk or merchant. Willebald is long dead; may he sleep in peace! He was no mate for me, but for what he gave me, I re- paid him in the coin he loved best. He was a proud man when he walked threugh the Friday Market with every cap doffed. He se ever the burgher, like the child I bore “T had thought the marriage mere fruit- ful. They speak of two children, a daugh- ter and a son.” THE woman turned round in her y¥ bed so that she faced him. The monkey whimpered and she cuffed its ears. Her face was sharp and exultant, and for a sick person her eyes were oddly bright. . “The girl was Willebald’s. A poor slip of vulgar stock with the spirit of a housecat. I would have had her marry well, for she was handsome after a fashion, but she thwarted me and chose to wed a lout of a huckster in the Bredestreet. She shall have her pertion from Willebald’s gold, but none from me. “But Philip is true child of mine and sprung on both sides of high race. Nay, I name no names, and before men he is of my husband’s getting. But to you at the end:of my days I speak the truth. That. son of wrath has rare blood in him. Philip—— 3 The old face had grown kind. She was | looking through the monk to some happy country of vision. Her thoughts were re- tracing the road of time, and after the way of age she spoke them aloud. Imperiously she had forgotten her company. “So long ago,” came the tender voice. “Tt is years since they told me he was dead Ss Eomichoo (F@)