"My Lord,"
"One of your horses has been stolen from your stable, namely, the bright bay Norman charger; but, as some compensation, in its place has been put a large-boned, long-legged grey. He is not beautiful to look upon, though a skilful eye will see fine points in him; but he is strong and enduring, and no horse in Europe can match him for speed. Your lordship may try him against what horse you will, you will be sure to win the race; and should you be disposed to try to-morrow, you will find spectators in Monington Wood who will receive you at the winning post. Mark this, for it is from
"A Friend."
"Would that I knew his name," cried Edward, as he concluded the letter.
"I can tell you, my lord," replied Thomas de Clare. "It is Richard de Ashby."
"Ha!" said Edward, as if not well pleased--"Ha! Richard de Ashby. He is a faithful subject of my father's, I believe, but that is all the good I know of him. However, I must not be ungrateful--Hark! There is a step upon the stairs. Get the fruit into the basket--quick!" and concealing the note, Edward cast himself into the chair which he had previously occupied.
De Clare had scarcely replaced the strawberries and set down the basket, when a heavy, stern-looking man, one of the chief officers whom the Earl of Leicester had placed in attendance, as he called it, upon the Prince, entered the room, with a silver dish in his hand.
"Seeing that a fair lady has carried you some strawberries, my lord," he said, "I have brought you a dish to put them in;" and taking the basket, he emptied it slowly into the silver plate.
"Thanks, Ingelby, thanks," replied the Prince with a look of total indifference as to what he did with the fruit. "Methinks, if you had brought me some cream also it would have been as well."
"Your lordship shall have it immediately," answered the officer. "They are fine berries, so early in the season."
"They will refresh me, after the fever," said Edward; "for still my mouth feels dry."
"You shall have the cream directly, my good lord," rejoined the officer, and left the room.
Edward and De Clare looked at each other with a smile, and the note was soon re-read and totally destroyed.
CHAPTER XVII.
About the hour of ten, on the morning following the day of which we have just been speaking, Simon de Montfort sat alone at a small table in a room adjoining that which he used as a council chamber. Manifold papers and parchments were before him, and a rude map of England, such as the geographical skill of that day enabled men to produce, lay underneath his large powerful hand, with the forefinger resting upon the word, Gloucester. His brow was heavy and his teeth were set; and he fixed his eyes--we cannot call it vacantly, for they were full of expression, though without sight--upon the opposite wall of the room, while his right hand ran slowly up and down the hilt of his heavy sword.
"Care," he said--"continual care! thought, and anxiety, and strife!--Oh, life, life! the gilded bubble--how is it that man clings to thee so fondly!--Who would not gladly be waked from an unpleasant dream? and yet how troublous is this sad dream of human existence, which we are so loath to lose? Some five or six years in early youth, when fancy, passion, and inexperience forbid us to think, and teach us only to enjoy, may have a portion of chequered brightness; but the rest, alas! has its care for every day, and its anxiety for every hour. It is a weary place, this world to dwell in, and life but a grim and discontented tenant of the house!"
He paused, and looked at the papers again, but it seemed difficult for him to fix his mind upon them. "It is strange," he continued--"I am not often thus; but I feel as if all things were passing away from me. Can it be, that sometimes the spirit has an indication of coming fate, from beings that we see not?--It may be so--but it is weak to give way to such thoughts. It is with human actions and endeavours that we have now to do. Ho! without there!--Does any one wait?" he continued, addressing a servant who appeared at his call.
"The constable of the guard of the west court, my lord," replied the attendant; "he has something to report."
"Send him, in," said the Earl of Leicester; "and dispatch a messenger to the Earl of Ashby, with many courteous greetings, to say that I am ready to receive him when it suits his pleasure: the same to the Earl of Monthermer and the lord Hugh.--Now, constable, what have you to tell me?"
The servant had beckoned in from the door where he stood, a sturdy soldier, clad in full armour, except the casque; and the latter now replied to Leicester's question--
"You told me, my lord, that the pass was withdrawn from Sir Richard de Ashby, and that he was no more to have access either to the King or the Prince."
"I said, moreover," answered Leicester, "that he was to quit Hereford. Is he not gone?"
"He may be now, my lord," replied the soldier, "but last night I found him several times lingering about the castle."
"If you find him any more, arrest him on the spot," cried De Montfort, hastily. "Methinks the man is a traitor. I sent him hence for his good; if he come back, evil shall overtake him."
He spoke evidently with considerable irritation, which the Great Earl of Leicester, as he was generally called, was seldom, if ever, known to display. Impetuous he certainly had been in his early youth; and pride and sternness had been faults of his years; but excitement upon trifling occasions was so foreign to his character, that the constable of the guard, as he retired from his presence, muttered--"Something must have gone very wrong with the Great Earl; I never saw him so before."
When the officer had departed, Simon de Montfort rose, and took two or three turns up and down the room, murmuring to himself--"Each petty knave dares to disobey me; but I doubt these Ashbys; they are none of them stern and steadfast in the cause of right. This conference with Gloucester, on pretence of being stopped by his troops--'tis rank,--'tis evident. But we shall soon hear more. Here they come, I suppose:" and opening the door into the council-room, he walked slowly to the head of the table, while the old Earl of Monthermer advanced to meet him, and Hugh lingered for a moment at the opposite side reading a note which seemed to have been just put into his hands.
"Public or private?" asked De Montfort, looking upon his young friend with a smile.
"Private, my lord," answered Hugh--"at least it is marked so; and though I have some doubt of the honesty of the writer, I will keep it private--at least for the present."
The Earl was about to reply; but at that moment the jingling step of Alured de Ashby was heard in the stone corridor at the top of the stairs; and after a brief pause he followed, his father into the council chamber.
"Welcome, my Lord of Ashby," said De Montfort, advancing, and taking the Earl's hand. "I am right glad to see you here; and welcome, too, Lord Alured. I fear that you have passed through some perils, and met with somewhat rough treatment on your road hither?"
"Perils, my lord, I may have passed through," answered Alured, "but rough treatment I have none to complain of. The noble Earl of Gloucester treated me with more courtesy than I had a right to expect; and, as you see, suffered me to proceed, to join your lordship."
De Montfort strove in vain to prevent his brow from gathering into a heavy frown; and he replied, with a bitter smile--"Doubtless the Earl is wise."
In the meanwhile the Earl of Ashby had been greeting cordially the Monthermer and his nephew; and the sight of their mutual courtesies, which was in no way pleasant to Alured de Ashby, prevented him, in all probability, from making a rash reply to the Earl of Leicester.
"Well, sir," he said, not noticing the words of De Montfort, but turning sharply to Hugh, "you informed me, some time ago, that the cause of my sister's being carried off and detained by some rude country people, or forest outlaws, would be explained to my good father here. Pray let us hear it in this noble presence! I am as curious as a woman."
"Tush, Alured!" cried his father; "you are an impatient, irritable boy. First let me render thanks to our young friend, for his gallant, well-conducted search after our dear Lucy, and for restoring her to us so soon."
"Whatever thanks he has merited, my lord," replied Alured, "I am right willing to pay; but first I wish to hear the full extent of his great deservings, lest my gratitude should overwhelm me. Luckily, however, there is a small deduction to be made, for having even at this early hour, brought an unjust charge against our kinsman Richard, and roused dark suspicions of him in the breast of this noble Earl."
"I fear, my young friend," said the old Lord of Monthermer, in a calm and kindly tone, "that the gratitude which seems to sit so heavy upon you--if there prove any cause for gratitude at all, which I doubt--can suffer no diminution on the account you would place against it. The charge against your kinsman was made by me, not Hugh. I neither concealed any part of the suspicion, nor aggravated it in the least; but merely told noble De Montfort that which we all know, and which behoved him to be acquainted with, when he was trusting daily near Prince Edward a person of whom even your father must entertain grave doubts."
"No--no! not so, my lord!" cried the Earl of Ashby, "my doubts have been dispelled."
Some farther conversation, of a menacing character, took place, the old Lord of Monthermer showing himself desirous of soothing the two Lords of Ashby, but Alured evidently striving to drive the matter to a personal quarrel.
It is no easy task, with a companion so disposed, to avoid administering some occasion of offence; and although Hugh de Monthermer, in his love for Lucy, found every motive for avoiding a breach with her brother, yet there was a point of endurance beyond which even that inducement could not carry him.
"Well--well, Lord Alured," he said, at length, "it is clear to me, and must be clear to all, what is your object now. You have never forgotten ancient feuds, though we all agreed to cast them aside for ever. I would do all that is honourable and just, to maintain and strengthen every kindly feeling between our two houses, but even the desire of so doing shall not induce me to swerve from what I consider right. I believe Richard de Ashby to be a false traitor, unworthy of the name he bears; for your noble race, whatever side it has taken, has never produced such a one before."
"And I maintain him honest and true," replied Alured, "and will uphold it at----"
He was going to add, the spear's point; but his father stopped him, exclaiming--"Hush--hush! no violence! Hear what Lord Hugh would say."
"At all events," said De Montfort, "have some respect, sir, for those in whose presence you speak."
Alured de Ashby bit his lip, but made no reply, and Hugh de Monthermer turned with a glowing cheek to the Earl of Ashby, inquiring--"My lord, have you heard from your daughter, in whose hands I found her?"
"I have not seen her," replied the Earl--"I have not yet seen her. This city is so full of troops and armed men, that Alured judged it better to leave her at a place a short distance hence, between this and Gloucester. But Alured has told me what she told him."
"Well then, my lord," continued Hugh, "I have but to add, that the men in whose hands she was, and against whom I could bring no force sufficient to set her free, agreed to liberate her on condition that I requested you, by your honour and high name, to compel your kinsman, Richard de Ashby, to restore the unhappy girl he carried off, when we all met in Barnesdale, to the house of her father, John Greenly, and to make him pay such dowry, on her entering a convent, as may punish him and ensure her reception. It was as a hostage for her return that they seized your daughter; and it was only upon this condition that they set her free."
"May I know," demanded Alured de Ashby, assuming a sweet and ceremonious tone, which contrasted strangely with the workings of anger and pride in his face--"may I know, fair sir, whether this demand is made of my father by these courteous outlaws of Sherwood, or by the noble Lord Hugh de Monthermer?"
"Hush! Alured, I will have none of this!" exclaimed his father again. "You are too violent! Surely I have maintained the dignity of my house all my days, and can do it without your help. Now, my Lord Hugh, from whom comes this demand?"
"It comes, my lord," replied Hugh, "from all those persons who held your daughter in their power. To you, my lord, for whom I entertain so much respect, I bear it unwillingly, and bear it only in the name of others; but it is my purpose, I acknowledge, whenever and wheresoever I meet Richard de Ashby, to demand that and more at his hands."
"Sir!" cried Alured, "there is one here present right willing and ready to put himself in the place of his cousin, and render you every account of his conduct you can desire."
Hugh turned from him with a look from which he could not altogether banish some contempt. "When I find, my lord," he replied, "that Richard de Ashby is lame or impotent, a woman or a monk, I will consent to his appointing a champion, but not till then. I have no quarrel with you, my lord, and do not intend to have one."
"Methinks, my Lord of Ashby," said De Montfort, who had been speaking for a moment apart with the old Earl of Monthermer--"methinks the demand made upon you is but just, let it come from whom it may. These men held your daughter in their power, and they fixed certain conditions, taking it for granted you would execute which, they set the lady free. Those conditions in themselves are fair, if I understand the matter rightly; and it were better far to yield to them, than now to dispute the matter, when your daughter has thus attained her liberty.--It would be more honourable, I say."
The colour came up in the old Earl de Ashby's cheek.
"The house of Ashby, my lord," he replied, "permits no one to dictate to it, what is for its honour to do."
"Far less," cried Alured, "will it allow an ancient enemy, presuming on the forbearance which has already given pardon and forgiveness for many offences, to bring false charges against one of its members, and then dictate how its chief is to act!"
"Pardon and forgiveness!" exclaimed Hugh de Monthermer--"false charges! These are strange terms. As to the truth of the accusation, if your base kinsman, sir, dares to put forth still the lying pretext that he made use of when last I saw him, and to lay, upon the same scapegoat, the blame of corresponding with the enemies of the state and of carrying off this poor girl, his falsehood now can soon be proved, for she has been seen with him in this very city."
Alured looked down and bit his lip; and the old Lord of Monthermer, anxious to prevent the house of Ashby from abandoning that cause which he conceived to be just and right, interposed in the calm, grave manner which was usual with him, saying--"Do not suppose, my noble friend, that my Lord of Leicester wishes to dictate to you in any degree. It is fair that he should submit for your consideration whether it will not be more honourable to your family to clear it of the stain which this man's conduct leaves upon it."
"I can meddle, my lord, with no man's pastimes," said the Earl de Ashby, carried away by the example of his son. "Richard de Ashby is not my page, for me to chastise him, if he plays the fool with a peasant's daughter. I cannot meddle in the matter."
"Would your lordship not have meddled," asked De Montfort, sternly, "if your daughter's freedom had still depended on it. Methinks you would then have found right soon motives sufficient to interfere, and that somewhat vigorously."
"Well, my lord," cried the Earl, in an angry tone,--for where weakness goes hand in hand with wrong, wrath is never far behind; "at all events, it is no affair of yours! This is no public matter, but a private business, put upon me by Lord Hugh of Monthermer."
"Nay, my good lord--nay!" exclaimed Hugh, "most unwillingly did I undertake it; but surely you would not have had me risk your daughter's liberation, by hesitating to convey to you a mere demand, which, without obtaining her deliverance at all, might have been sent by any other person."
"And carried by any other, with much more grace than by a pretended friend," rejoined Alured de Ashby.
"Young gentleman," said the old Earl of Monthermer, "you have done mischief enough this morning, whether you intended it or not. Do no more mischief, I beseech you; nor make those part enemies who would fain be friends. Your father's answer is given--he will not meddle in the affair; so let it rest. Hugh has done his duty, and he has had, moreover, the pleasure and the honour of serving and protecting a lady. Whatever more is to be done rests with yourselves."
"Not entirely," replied De Montfort, with a frown; "I have some say in this business."
"How so, my lord?" demanded the Earl of Ashby, sharply. "I will allow no one--, not the highest in all the laud, to judge for me, as to my private conduct."
"You are somewhat hasty, my good lord," said De Montfort, coldly.
"Hasty or not," interrupted Alured de Ashby, eager to widen the breach as far as possible, "my father is right in what he says: and I say yea to him."
"So bold!" said De Montfort, contemptuously; "so very bold for so young a bird! Methinks its wings want clipping, lest it should flee away!"
Alured de Ashby saw that he had gone somewhat too far, and might, perhaps, if he said more, endanger his own liberty. At least, conscious of his own purposes, he so construed the words of the Earl of Leicester. His haughty spirit, however, would not bow to qualify even in a degree the rash language he had used, and he remained sullenly silent, looking down upon the ground, while the great Earl continued with his keen grey eyes fixed sternly upon him.
"To end all this," De Montfort went on, "and to conclude a conversation which has continued too long, there are other charges against your kinsman, Earl of Ashby, which cannot exactly be trusted to your lordship's lenity. They are somewhat more serious than debauching a country girl; and as it has been proved that he has been seen with this light-o'-love damsel, who, by his own confession, went off with one undoubtedly a traitor to these realms, it is strong presumptive proof that he still has that traitor in his service, or knows more of him than is befitting. Under these circumstances, I have already ordered his arrest, should he enter Hereford; and now, moreover, I will have him sought for, and if he be a traitor, deal with him as such--which I will likewise do with all who prove so;" he added, in a marked tone.
"Your lordship is right," said Alured de Ashby; and he muttered between his teeth so low that it could not be heard--"If you can catch them!"
"Now, good morning to you, my lords," continued De Montfort; "at three this evening we will hold a council, to consider of proclaiming Mortimer and others, traitors. We shall expect you all to be present. Come with me, Monthermer--come with me, Lord Hugh! We will have no high words upon the stairs."
Lord Ashby and his son turned away, with frowning brows; and, as they descended to the court-yard, two short sentences were spoken, which decided the fate of both. "I know not what may be your purpose, my father," said Alured, "but my course is determined. I will neither be the jest of the Monthermers nor the slave of Simon de Montfort!"
"Nor I either, Alured," answered the Earl, in a low tone; and without more comment they mounted their horses, and rode back to the inn.
They had scarcely quitted the court when Hugh de Monthermer appeared in it, with a hasty step. One of the small party of armed retainers who had accompanied him instantly led forwards his horse, and he sprang into the saddle. "Which way did the Earl of Ashby take?" he demanded.
"Through that gate, my lord," replied the man; and, bidding the servants follow him, the young knight was turning towards the other archway, when he felt something pull his stirrup, and looking down, beheld the boy Tangel, holding up his long bony hand with many a curious grimace.
"I will speak with thee by and by, Tangel," said Hugh; "I will be back in an hour."
"Ay, by and by is the cat that lapped up all the cream!" cried the dwarf. "By and by wont do, I must speak with you now! I have much to say!"
"Then you must get a horse, and follow me, Tangel," replied the young lord--"it is already near the hour named. I go up the hill--be quick!" and he put spurs to his horse. The dwarf gazed after him for a minute, murmuring--"He'll be an hour too soon, if he do not mind!" and turned away.
CHAPTER XVIII.
About half an hour after the events had taken place, of which we have spoken in the last chapter, Prince Edward stood in the midst of the chamber already described, habited in a light riding suit, but armed only with his sword. He was gazing, with a look of expectation, at the door, when it opened, and his young companion, Thomas de Clare, entered in haste. "Oh yes, my lord," he said, with a well pleased smile, "he fully confirms the permission; and, indeed, William of Cantelupe, Ingelby, and Thomas de Blundel, with three or four, are already waiting in the court-yard for your coming."
"Is my horse prepared, then?" demanded the Prince.
"Why, the foolish grooms, my lord," replied the young nobleman, "had brought out the roan, alleging that grey was lean, and not like a Prince's horse, but I bade them saddle him, notwithstanding, saying that I had given him to your Grace, and checking them for not obeying the order they had received. He is, doubtless, caparisoned by this time--but you are pale, my lord; the fever has weakened you! Were it not as well to take a cup of wine before you ride forth?"
Edward shook his head. "Not so!" he said; "when I strike my spur into that horse's side, the very thought of freedom shall give me better strength and courage than the best wine that ever France produced. However, let me have your arm; it may be well to seem a little weaker than I am. Do you go with me, De Clare?"
"No, my lord," answered his companion, "I am not one of those named; and, to say the truth, I did not seek the honour, for I might but embarrass you, and I must provide for my own safety here."
"Are you sure you can?" demanded the Prince. "You must not risk your life for me, De Clare!"
"Oh, fear not--fear not!" replied the young nobleman; "give me but one hour, and I will be beyond the reach of harm."
After a few more words, Prince Edward took his arm, and slowly descended the stairs, at the foot of which they found a number of gentlemen assembled, with several servants holding the horses which had been prepared for their excursion. The spearmen whom De Clare had talked of the preceding night did not make their appearance, De Montfort judging that seven or eight of his stanchest followers would be quite sufficient to secure him against the escape of the captive Prince. Edward bowed familiarly to the various gentlemen present, and was received with every appearance of deference and respect.
"Good morning, Ingelby," he said; "good morning, Sir William de Cantelupe. Blundel, I am glad you are here--you are a judge of horses; and De Clare has given me one, which he declares will make an excellent charger--God speed the mark! When shall I need a charger again?--But there he comes; at least, I suppose so. What think you of him?"
"Nay, no jesting, gentlemen!" cried De Clare, remarking a smile upon the lips of the rest; "that is a horse which, when well fed and pampered highly, will do more service than a thousand sleek-coated beauties."
"To the latter appellation, at least, he has no title," replied Blundel, looking at the horse as it was led forward; "but he has good points about him, nevertheless."
"He seems quiet enough," observed the Prince; "and, to say sooth, that is no slight matter with me to-day. I am not strong enough to ride a rough-paced fiery charger. But let us mount, gentlemen, and go. Farewell, De Clare! I will not break your horse's wind."
"I defy your Grace," answered Thomas de Clare, holding Edward's stirrup, as he mounted slowly. "I wish you a pleasant ride."
At the gate of the castle stood the Earl of Leicester himself, ready to do honour to Prince Edward, as he passed; and after a few words of cold courtesy, the train proceeded on its way, and wound out of the town of Hereford.
"This free air cheers me," said Edward, turning to one of his companions, after they had passed the gates about half a mile. "How true it is, that blessings, manifold blessings, are only known to be such when we have lost them! To me this free summer wind is in itself the richest of enjoyments."
"I am glad to hear it, my lord," replied the gentleman he addressed; "I hope it may do you much good."
"If I can obtain many such rides," continued Edward; "I shall soon be quite well. See, how proud Blundel is of his horse! and yet I would bet a silver tankard against a pewter can, that Cantelupe's would beat it for the distance of half a mile, or Ingelby's either."
Ingelby, who was near, smiled, well pleased; and the other, to whom Edward had spoken, exclaimed--"Do you hear what the Prince says, Blundel?--that Cantelupe's horse would beat yours for half a mile!"
"Cantelupe would not try," answered Blundel, "I should think."
"Oh, I will try!" cried Cantelupe; "to please the Prince, I will try with all my heart. Let us set off!"
"Nay, nay," rejoined Edward, "let us wait till we get upon the turf, on the higher ground. If I remember right, there is as fair a course there as any in England. We will make matches there for you, and I will give a golden drinking cup as a prize for the horse that beats all the rest. You shall run two at a time, and the gentlemen who remain with me will be the judges of each course."
"Agreed, agreed!" cried the whole party.
"I shall win the cup!" said Blundel.
"Not you!" shouted Ingelby, in his loud, hoarse voice. "It is scarcely fair for me, however, for I am so much heavier."
"But you have a stronger horse," replied Edward; and thus passing the time in light conversation, they mounted slowly the first gentle slopes in the neighbourhood of Hereford, and came upon some fine dry turf at the top.
As soon as they found an open space where there was grass enough, Blundel and Cantelupe put their horses into a quick pace and galloped on, taking for the winning-post a tree that stood detached at the distance of about half a mile. Cantelupe was the lighter man of the two, and he rode well; but Blundel's horse was decidedly superior, and, he had already passed the tree when his competitor was two or three lengths behind. The Prince seemed greatly to enjoy the sport, and cheered on the men and horses with his voice and hand. Two more competitors speedily succeeded the first, and still the whole party kept, advancing over the wild, turfy sort of down, ever and anon choosing an open spot for their gay pastime.
"Now, Ingelby," said the Prince, at length, "you must try with Blundel. As you are the heavier man, you have some advantage in his horse being rather tired. We will give you a mile's course, too, so that your beast's strength will tell. There, up to that gate, with the little village church beyond, and if you beat him, I will fill the cup with silver pieces. He is so proud of his beast, it makes me mad to see him."
Blundel patted the arching neck of, his proud charger with a self-satisfied smile, and, at the given sign, gave him his head. Away the two best horses in the party went, and ran the longer course before them with very equal speed, Blundel taking the lead at first, but Ingelby's stronger beast gaining upon him afterwards. Blundel, however, was the first to reach the gate; but Ingelby dared him to try his chance back again, and away they came once more at headlong speed. This time, Ingelby was first, till, at the distance of about three hundred yards from the Prince, his horse stumbled, and came down with a heavy fall. The rider and the charger were both upon their feet again in a moment, but the beast had struck his knee, although not severely, and went lame as he finished the rest of his course.
"I know not how we must award the prize here," said the Prince; "for had it not been for that accident----"
"Oh, it is mine--it is mine, fairly!" cried Blundel.
"Oh, yes, my lord, I think he has won it!" said several voices round.
"Oh, I have won it!" reiterated Blundel; but added, laughing, "unless his Grace himself will ride a course with me upon his grey charger."
"It must be but a short one, Blundel," answered Edward; "but I do not mind if I try for some hundred yards or two the mettle of the beast. What say you to that little tree?"
"With all my heart!" replied Blundel.
"On, then!" cried the Prince; and at the same moment he loosed the rein--at which his horse had been tugging for the last half hour--and struck his spurs into the animal's sides. Like an arrow shot from a bow, the lean and bony charger darted forth, covering an immense space of ground at every stretch, and speedily leaving Blundel and his vaunted steed behind. Spurring with all his might, the disappointed cavalier followed on Edward's track; but though the distance to the tree was certainly not more than five hundred yards, the Prince was full fifty in front when he passed it.
Seeing that it was vain to make any further effort, Blundel slackened his speed, but to his astonishment the Prince spurred on, gaining upon him every minute; and, at the distance of about seventy or eighty yards, feeling the immense speed and power of the horse that he bestrode, Edward turned gaily round in the saddle, and, waving his hand, exclaimed, in a loud voice, "All courteous things to my cousin De Montfort! Tell him he shall hear from me soon."
By this time the party, who had been slowly following, had caught sight of what was passing, and putting their chargers into a gallop, were soon up to the spot where Blundel had halted in bewilderment and wonder.
"He is gone!" cried Blundel. "By St. John the Evangelist, he is gone!"
"What shall we do?" exclaimed another.
"Follow him, follow him, at all events," said Ingelby; "it must not be said that we did not follow him," and accordingly they spurred on at their best speed; but it was all in vain. The poor-looking grey, that every one had contemned, now showed his real powers, each moment seemed to increase his speed, each stride seemed wider than the last, and every instant Edward gained upon his pursuers.
For some way he never turned his head to look, feeling sure that they were left far behind; but at length, after rising another gentle slope, he paused for an instant to let his horse breathe, and gazed back over the grassy land, which he could now see extending all the way down to the river. At the distance of about a mile, he beheld a knot of eight horsemen, in whom he instantly recognised the persons who had been sent to guard him. But they were no longer following upon his track, their horses' heads were turned towards Hereford, and thither they now pursued their way, having soon given up all hope of overtaking the fugitive.
"Where is my Lord of Leicester?" demanded Ingelby, the moment they arrived in the court of the castle.
"He is holding private council, and cannot be spoken with," replied the officer to whom he addressed himself.
"I must speak with him, however," rejoined Ingelby.
"You cannot!" said the officer, sternly; "he is in close conference with the Earl of Oxford and Lord Ralph."
"If the devil were with him, I must see him!" exclaimed Ingelby. "Out of my way, man! I will bear the blame." And, pushing past him, he approached the door of the council-chamber, and knocked hard with his hand. A page, who was within, opened the door; and walking straight up to De Montfort, who sat at the head of the table, Ingelby whispered, "The Prince is gone, my lord!"
De Montfort turned fiercely round upon him, and struck the table with his clenched hand, exclaiming "Gone!"
"Ay, my lord, gone!" replied the officer; "and yet none of us could help it;" and he proceeded to explain how Edward had effected his escape.
De Montfort showed no further agitation or surprise than that which the sudden communication of such intelligence elicited at first. It overpowered his usual calmness for a moment; but then it was past. After hearing Ingelby's account, he muttered to himself--"The shadow that fell upon me this morning was from this cloud. Go, boy," he continued, addressing the page who stood at the door, "bid the constable of the guard seek for Thomas de Clare; and if he find him, attach him for high treason. Let some one, too, summon the Lords of Ashby hither instantly, on business of much importance. Quick boy, away!--My Lord of Oxford, I will beseech you to speed across the country to Pevensey at once, and instead of aiding my son to take it, as we proposed just now, bid him raise the siege, and march to join me, with all the men whom he can raise, coming by Winchester and Oxford. We shall soon have business on our hands, and must be up and stirring. What were we saying, Sir Adam de Newfort!--oh, about bringing the troops from Chester;" and he entered again upon the subject which they had before been discussing, seeming to dismiss from his mind the escape of the Prince, as if it had been a matter of no moment.
In about half an hour the messenger returned, whom he had sent to order the arrest of Thomas de Clare.
"My lord," said the page, "they are not to be found."
"They!" exclaimed the Earl.
"Lord Thomas left the castle an hour ago," replied the page, "and his servants are all gone likewise."
"So I thought, so I thought!" said De Montfort; "'Trust not soft seeming' is a good old saw. I might have been wiser than to put faith in one of the brood of Gloucester."
"But of the Ashbys, boy--speak of the Ashbys!" cried Lord Ralph Basset. "My heart is no true prophet if they play us not false likewise."
"They went out upon the Worcester road, the people of their inn declare," rejoined the boy, "within half an hour after they left the castle, and ere an hour was over all their people followed them, their steward paying the score."
"Let them go!" cried De Montfort, "we can afford to lose them. An unwilling hand is always well spared from a good cause. Besides, the greater loss puts out the less. One Edward is worth a whole shop full of Ashbys!" and with this contemptuous observation he turned to other matters again.
CHAPTER XIX.
The impediments of life, at which we fret and chafe in early years, and which we view with stern doubt and disappointment in that after period when the shortness of the space left to us renders each moment really as valuable as it only seems to be in the eagerness of youthful impatience--the impediments of life, I say--the things that check us in our impetuous course, and force us to pause and to delay--how often are they blessings instead of curses? How often is the object which they dash from our outstretched hands an evil rather than the good that we esteemed it!
Hugh de Monthermer, as we have shewn, rode away from the castle of Hereford about half an hour before Prince Edward. He chose the very road, and went on at great speed for about three miles; he then turned his horse into a path somewhat different from that which the Prince had chosen, but leading nearly in the same direction; and in that he proceeded at a rate which gave his five servants some trouble in keeping up with him. At length, however, his horse suddenly went lame, and on dismounting to see what was the matter, he found that a nail had run into the frog of the animal's foot; and although it was easily extracted, yet it was impossible to proceed at the same pace as before.
"Give me your horse, Peterkin," he said, "halting, and take mine slowly back to Hereford."
While the servant was changing the saddle, however, a countryman appeared on the road, driving some swine before him; and Hugh immediately walked up to him, asking, "Is this the way, my friend, to Monington Chapel?"
"No, no," replied the man; "you must go back. You should have taken the first turning on your left. Lord, now! only to think of your not knowing your way to Monington Chapel!"
"What's the hour?" asked Hugh.
"Just mid-day," answered the man. "Don't you see the sun?"
"Then there is time," said Hugh de Monthermer; and mounting the servant's horse, he retrod his steps for some distance.
Just as he was approaching the turning, however, which the man had directed him to take, he heard a loud whistling scream, which made him look up to the sky, thinking that some eagle--a bird then very common in the marches of Wales--had come close above his head. But nothing of the kind was to be seen; and a moment after the same cry was repeated, while one of the servants who were riding a little way behind, exclaimed, "It is the dwarf, my lord, it is Tangel. See where he comes at full speed, like a monkey on a race-horse!"
Hugh de Monthermer paused for a moment and turned his eyes down the road from Hereford, up which the dwarf was coming, not mounted on his forest pony, but perched upon the back of a tall charger with his head just seen between the ears of the animal, his long arms stretched out holding the bridle somewhat short, and his equally lengthy legs hanging down, affording no bad type for the old figure of Nobody.
The boy was speedily by Hugh de Monthermer's side, shaking his head reproachfully as he came, and saying, "Ay, you would not listen to Tangel, man-at-arms. Nobody listens to Tangel; and why? Because he has not got a skin like a sucking pig and a face such as boys cut out of a turnip. Now, if any of these bottle-nosed beer drinkers had told you to stay and listen, you would have waited by the hour."
"Not I," replied Hugh de Monthermer, "nor can I wait now, good Tangel; so come on, and make haste with your story by the way. What is it you want to tell me?"
"Ay, haste, haste!" cried Tangel, turning his horse and keeping by the side of the young lord; "always hasting to destruction, and slow to anything good. Now are you riding out here, without knowing where you are going or who it is that has sent for you."
"And pray, if you are wiser, Tangel," said Hugh, with a smile, "let me know where it is I am going to, and who it is that has sent for me."
"Going to a prison," cried Tangel, "and he who sent for you is a traitor."
"Are you serious?" demanded Hugh, turning gravely towards him.
"No, never was merrier in my life," answered Tangel, grinning till he shewed his fine white teeth running back almost to his ears. "Is it not enough to make me merry, to see a man who calls himself wise put his head into a noose like a woodcock?--Now I will catechise you, as the priest of the chapel did me one day when he was drunk. Did you not receive a letter to-day?"
"Yes, I did," replied Hugh.
"Who gave you that letter?" demanded Tangel.
"One of the servants of the noble Earl of Leicester," answered Hugh.
"Ha!" said the boy, "they are cunninger than I thought."
"And moreover," added the young nobleman, "I asked the servant from whom he had received it, and he told me, from one of the attendants of the Earl of Ashby."
"And who did the Earl Ashby's ton of flesh get it from?" demanded the dwarf.--"I will tell you, for you know nothing about it yourself. He got it from gallant, sweet, honest, pretty Richard de Ashby, before he ran away from Hereford, last night. I heard him when he thought there were no ears listening; for I watched him all over the place, as soon as I found he was in Hereford, creeping after him like a shadow. He gave me a blow once in Nottingham, and called me ape and devil; but the ape was at his heels last night when he and his fair cousin Alured were plotting to go over to Gloucester; and I heard him say, that he would have you in a net before four-and-twenty hours were over."
"He might have found himself mistaken, Tangel," replied Hugh, "for I had my misgivings. Although I have not often seen the Lady Lucy's handwriting, I suspected that the note was not hers; and, though he told me to come alone, I brought five stout fellows with me, as you see, intending to leave them within call. I think we six might be quite enough to deal with any force they would dare to bring within seven miles of Hereford."
The dwarf laughed aloud, paused, and then laughed again; but in his wayward fashion he would not explain the cause of his merriment, let Hugh say what he would.
"Mighty cunning--mighty cunning!" he cried. "Now, if you have luck, you may catch the fowler in his trap; but yet, if you be wise, you will ride back to Hereford, and take a nuncheon at the Maypole."
"No," replied Hugh; pausing for an instant, and beckoning to his followers to come up; "no, I will not. I know Richard de Ashby's force right well, and we five are worth any ten he can bring against us. I would give a capful of gold pieces to take that traitor back with me, and nail his ears to the castle gates; but we must lay our plan securely. The place appointed is Monington Chapel, and there surely must be some place near it where I can conceal the men."
"Why, my lord," said one of his followers, "just on this side of it is Little Bilberry wood. I know it well; and then beyond, is the great wood of Monington. We can find cover in either, for a thousand spears if it were necessary."
"I forget the place, though I have seen it often," replied Hugh; and, musing over what the dwarf had told him, he rode on till the highway entered a little copse intersected by numerous paths.
The width of the whole wood might be about a hundred and fifty yards, though the length, to the right and left of the road which they followed was not less than a couple of miles; and as the young nobleman and his train issued forth again on the other side, they perceived at a short distance before them a small chapel, to which the name of a shrine would have been more appropriate, for the largest congregation that it could contain was certainly thirty persons at the utmost.
Hugh de Monthermer's arrangements were soon made. Drawing back as soon as possible, lest any one should observe his movements, he stationed his men under cover of the wood, and then advanced alone to the chapel, the door of which was open, as usual with all places of worship at that time. Before he entered, however, he paused to gaze over the scene on the other side of the little building, which presented, first an open green expanse covered with short grass dotted with tufts of fern, and then, with the interval of about a third of a mile, a deep, sombre wood, extending to a considerable distance on both sides. The ground all round was perfectly clear, and the copse, where he had left his men, so near at hand that it was impossible for him to be taken at a disadvantage by a larger force than his own, without having due warning of its approach.
Hugh looked up towards the sun, saying to himself, "I am half an hour before the time, I should imagine--We shall have a storm ere long:" and, fastening his horse to a hook fixed in the stone work, apparently for that purpose, he entered the chapel, which was quite vacant.
Above the altar appeared the figure of the Virgin, and kneeling for a moment, as usual with all persons of his faith, Hugh repeated a short prayer, and then rising, gazed out of a window which turned towards the larger wood at the back. The sky was becoming rapidly clouded, and though the sun shone high in heaven, it only served to render the thick, thronged mass of vapours, that were rolling up from the south-west, more dark and lowering in appearance than would have been the case had they not been contrasted with the warm glow of the zenith. Soon, however, swelling up like the waves of an ocean of molten lead, the white edges of the thunder-cloud covered the disk of the sun, bringing with them an oppressive heat very different from the mild but fresh air which had prevailed during the morning.
Still Hugh de Monthermer kept his eye fixed upon the wood; and after watching for several minutes, he thought he could distinguish, through the bolls of the trees, a human form, moving slowly along at the very verge. It disappeared again, and for a few moments nothing more was perceived, so that Hugh, at length, begun to think he had been in error. He soon found that such was not the case, for after a short pause, a man on foot issued forth a step or two, and was seen to look carefully round him. He then gazed down the road towards Hereford, and put his hand over his eyes, as if to shade them from the light. Apparently satisfied, he retired into the wood again, after having continued his investigations for about three or four minutes.
It was evident he was watching for some one, and Hugh naturally concluded it was himself. The young nobleman paused, meditating how he should act--at one moment, thinking of shewing himself, in order to bring the affair to a speedy issue, but the next, judging it would be better to remain in the chapel till the hour appointed had arrived.
While he was still hesitating, a vivid flash of lightning, that almost blinded him, burst forth from the cloud, and appeared to sweep close past the chapel. Some large drops of rain fell at the same time, and after another and another flash--succeeding each other with extraordinary rapidity--the flood-gates of the heavens seemed to open, and the torrent poured down, mingling hail with the rain, and forming foaming yellow pools at every indentation of the road. Incessantly through the twilight of the storm the broad blue glare of the lightning was seen, with a thin, bright, fiery line crossing the tissue of the flame, and marking its fierce and destructive character; while the rolling peal of the thunder seemed to shake the very earth, echoing and re-echoing from the woods around.
"Those poor fellows will be half drowned," thought Hugh de Monthermer; "I have a great mind to call them into the chapel, though it might lose me my opportunity. Yet, if I were sure of catching that villain, and carrying him into Hereford,--ay, or of meeting him with double my numbers, I would myself swim the Wye a dozen times.--Hark! surely that was the tramp of a horse's feet!"
Another clap of thunder, however, drowned all other sounds; but when it had passed away, the noise of a horse's hoofs beating the ground at a quick pace distinctly reached the young nobleman's ear. Hugh de Monthermer listened. "There is but one," he said; "I will take no odds against him;" and he loosened his sword in the scabbard, keeping behind the angle of the building, so as not to show himself too soon at the half-opened door.
The next instant the horse stopped opposite the Chapel, the rider was heard to spring to the ground; and after a moment's delay, in order, it seemed, to secure the beast from straying, the stranger's foot was heard ascending the steps.
Hugh de Monthermer advanced to confront him, but instantly drew back again, exclaiming, in a tone of strong astonishment--"Prince Edward!"
"Hugh de Monthermer," cried Edward, "this is strange meeting, old companion!"
"It is, indeed, my dear lord," replied Hugh. "It becomes me not to ask how or why you are here, but I will confess that it rejoices my very heart to see you at liberty, though I doubt not many men would say, if they knew of our meeting, that I ought to arrest and bring you back to Hereford."
"He would be a bold man!" answered the Prince, raising his towering form to its full height--"He would be a bold man who would attempt, single-handed, to stop Edward of England on his way!"
"Alas, my lord!" replied Hugh de Monthermer, "I have not even that excuse to give to those who may blame me. One shout from that door would bring fearful odds against you, for, to tell the truth, I am waiting here to catch that arch-traitor, Richard de Ashby, in his own net, and have left men in the little wood you have just passed. But once more, I say, I rejoice to see you free."
"Then, indeed, I thank you, Hugh," replied the Prince--"I thank you from my heart for your sincere love--though, if I judge rightly, I am not so unprotected as I seem."
The young nobleman took the hand that Edward held out to him, and kissed it respectfully, saying, "I would not betray you, my lord, for the world, were you here alone and I at the head of hundreds; but ere we part, I must ask you one boon."
"Nay, let us not part yet," rejoined Edward; "there is much to be said between us, Hugh. I have taken shelter here from the storm,--you are here also; and while the elements rage without, let us talk of giving peace to the land."
"That is the object of the boon I crave, my lord," answered Hugh, "but I can stay no longer with you than to name that boon. No, not even to hear you concede or refuse it--else I shall be held a traitor to that cause which I believed to be sacred. The boon is this: when you have joined the Earl of Gloucester--when you see yourself at the head of armies--and when you feel your royal mind at liberty to act with power and success, publish a proclamation pledging yourself to uphold all those laws and ordinances which have been enacted for the safety of the land, for the rights and liberties of the people, and for our protection from foreign minions and base favourites--laws and ordinances to which you have once already given your consent. If you do this, I myself will never draw the sword against you, nor do I believe will Simon de Montfort."
Edward shook his head, with a look of doubt. "De Montfort is ambitious, Hugh," he said; "perhaps he was not always so, for many a man begins a patriot and ends a tyrant."
At that moment the sound of a horn was heard from the little neighbouring copse, and Hugh de Monthermer advanced to the door of the chapel, knowing that it was a signal of danger. The scene that presented itself was curious: the rain was still pouring down heavy and grey; the air was dim and loaded; the flashes of the lightning were blazing through the sky, and seemed to the eyes of the young nobleman to be actually running along the ground. At the same time, rushing towards him with rapidity almost superhuman, was the poor dwarf, Tangel, throwing about his long, lean arms, in the most grotesque manner, and pointing ever and anon to the opposite wood, issuing forth from which appeared a body of at least three hundred horse, well armed and mounted, and coming down at full speed towards the chapel.
Hugh turned one look more into the building and waved his hand, exclaiming--"Adieu, my lord, adieu! Here is danger near;" and, gaining his horse's side, he unhooked the bridle, and leapt into the saddle.
"Up, Tangel! Up behind me!" he cried, as the dwarf came nigh--"up, quick, or they will be upon us!"
The dwarf sprang up behind him in a moment, with one single bound from the ground; and Hugh, turning the bridle towards the little copse, dashed on at full speed. The servant's horse, however, which he was riding, was not a very fast one; the troop from the wood was coming forward with great rapidity, and seemed determined to chase him: his own force was too small to offer any resistance; and Hugh de Monthermer saw with bitterness of spirit that if the adversaries still pursued, he must soon be a prisoner. To be so deceived and foiled, added anger to the grief he felt at the prospect of captivity, and he muttered to himself--"They shall pay dearly for it, at all events," while he still spurred on towards the copse from which his own men were now approaching, leading the horse on which the dwarf had joined them.
"Mount your beast quickly!" cried Hugh, turning his head to Tangel.
"Go on--go on, fast, good master!" cried the boy. "Do not halt for me: I will mount without your stopping, only carry me close enough to the beast;" and in a moment after, as Hugh rode swiftly up towards his followers, the boy put his hands upon the young nobleman's shoulders, sprang up with his feet on the charger's haunches, and then with a leap and a shrill cry, he lighted on his own horse, whirled himself round, and dropped into the saddle.
No time, indeed, was to be lost; for Hugh and his attendants met midway between the building and the wood, when one end of the enemy's line already reached the chapel.
And at that moment, Edward himself darted out upon the steps, and shouted aloud, "Halt! I command you, halt!--Lord Lovell, Sir Thomas Grey, I charge you, halt! Chase him not. I say!--Sir Richard de Ashby," he continued, raising his voice till it seemed to vie with the thunder, as he saw that his orders were unheeded, "Halt! on your life! Will you disobey my first command?"
But Richard de Ashby was deaf, and dashed on with five or six others, while the rest of their party drew the rein, some sooner, some later, pausing in a broken line. Hugh de Monthermer and his men spurred forward at the full gallop; but the slippery ground, now thoroughly soaked by the pelting rain, defeated his effort to escape an attack. The horse of one of his followers floundered, and fell some forty yards before they reached the copse; and though both man and beast staggered up again, the pursuers were too near to be evaded.
Some ten yards in advance of the rest, mounted upon a fleet black horse, was Richard de Ashby himself. He was fully armed with hauberk and shield and spear, but his aventaille was open, and a glow of savage satisfaction might be seen upon his countenance. Hugh de Monthermer turned in the saddle, to measure the distance between them with his eye, saw in a moment that escape was not possible, but that vengeance was; and, snatching from the man next to him a spear and small round buckler, he wheeled his horse, struck the sharp spur furiously into its flanks, and met his pursuer in full career.
The young knight himself was clothed in nothing but a hauqueton of purple cendal, which, though stiffly stuffed with cotton, as was then customary, afforded poor protection against the point of a lance. But the tournament and the battlefield had been the young nobleman's ball-room and his school, his place of amusement and his place of practice; and his eye was always ready to discover, his hand prepared to take advantage of the slightest movement of an enemy. He perceived in an instant that Richard de Ashby's lance was aimed at his throat, but he showed by no sign that he knew that such was the case, till he was within a yard of his enemy. Then suddenly raising his buckler, he turned the point aside; and at the same instant he somewhat lifted his own spear, which, as he had no rest, was charged upon his thigh, intending to strike his adversary full in the face. But Richard de Ashby bent his head, and the lance touching him high upon the forehead, glanced off from the skull, and catching in the hood of mail, hurled him headlong from his charger to the ground.
Hugh drew up his horse suddenly by the side of the fallen man, and shortening the spear, held it to his throat, shouting aloud to those who followed--"If any one comes near; he dies!"
By this time his own attendants had rejoined him; and two or three gentlemen came riding down at a quick pace from the chapel, calling upon their companions, who had gone before, to halt and come back.
"Did you not hear the Prince's voice?" exclaimed an elderly knight, angrily, as he approached: "it is his express commands, that you come back. Depart, Lord Hugh--depart in peace; it is the Prince's will, and we obey."
"Had I but one half your numbers, Lord Lovel," answered Hugh, "I would not go without taking this traitor with me."
"Or being taken yourself," replied Lord Lovell, with a laugh. "I can assure you, my good lord, we had every intention of carrying you with us into Worcestershire; but as the Prince will let the bird out of the trap which poor Richard baited so nicely for him, he must e'en use his wings--there is no help for it. You seem to have pecked the fowler pretty handsomely, however. I believe you have cleft his skull. There--let his people come up and help him! You have my word against treachery."
"I fear he is not punished as much as he deserves," replied Hugh de Monthermer. "Bear my dutiful thanks to the Prince for his courtesy; and now, fare you well, my Lord Lovell. I trust we shall soon meet again."
Thus saying, he turned his horse, and rode quickly but thoughtfully back to Hereford.