The Caged Lion

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XV: THE TRUST

  James of Scotland and John of Bedford sat together in the twilight of along and weary day, spent by the one in standing like a statue at thehead of his deceased friend as a part of the pageant of thelying-in-state in the chapel, whither multitudes had crowded throughoutthe day to see the 'mighty victor, mighty lord, lie low on his funeralcouch;' the nobles gazing with a certain silent and bitter satisfactionat him who had not only broken the pride of their country, but had withhis iron hand repressed their own private exactions, while the poor andthe peasants openly bewailed him as the father and the friend who hadstood between them and their harsh feudal lords. By the other, the hourshad passed in the press of toil and perplexity that had fallen on him asthe yet unaccredited representative of English power in France, and inwriting letters to those persons at home from whom he must derive hisauthority. The hour of rest and relaxation was welcome to both, thoughthey chiefly spent it each leaning back in his chair in silence.

  'Your messenger is not come back,' said Bedford, presently, rousinghimself.

  'It may have been no easy task,' replied James, not however withoutuneasiness.

  'I would,' said Bedford, presently, 'that I had writ the matter straightto Robsart. The lad is weak, and may be tampered with.'

  'He knows that I have pledged my honour for him,' said James.

  Bedford's thin lips moved at the corners.

  'Nay,' said James, not angrily, 'the youth hath in some measuredisappointed me. The evil in him shot forth faster than the good underthis camp life; but methinks there is in him a certain rare quality ofsoul that I loved him for at the first, and though it hath lain asleepall this time, yet what he hath now seen seemed to me about to work thechange in him.'

  'It may be so,' said Bedford; 'and yet I would I had not consented to hisgoing where that woman of Hainault might work on him to fret the LadyEsclairmonde.'

  James started somewhat as he remembered overruling this objection ofMalcolm's own making. 'She cannot have the insolence,' he said.

  At that moment a hasty step approached; the door was opened with scantceremony, and Ralf Percy, covered from head to foot with blood, hurriedin breathless and panting.

  'My lord Duke, your license! Here is Malcolm Stewart set upon in theforest by robbers and stabbed!'

  'Slain? Dead?' cried both princes, springing up in horror.

  'Alive still--in the chapel--asking for you, my lord,' said Percy. 'Hebade us lay him there at the King's feet; and as it was the readiest wayto a priest, we did his bidding.'

  'My poor Malcolm!' sighed James; and he and Bedford hastened to obey thesummons.

  There was time on the way for Ralf Percy to give them the particulars.'We had gone forth--Trenton, Kitson, altogether some half-dozen of us--fora mouthful of air in the forest after our guard all day in the chapel,when about a mile from the Castle we heard a scuffle, and clashing ofarms. So breaking through the thicket, we saw a score of fellows onhorseback fully armed, and in the midst poor Glenuskie dragged to theground and struggling hard with two of them. We drew our swords,hallooed, and leapt out; and the knaves never stayed to see how many ofus there were, but made off like the dastards they were, but not till onehad dealt poor Stewart this parting stroke. He hath been bleeding like asheep all the way home, and hath scarce spoken but a thanksgiving for ourhaving come in time, as he called it, and to ask for Dr. Bennet and theDuke.'

  The words brought them to the door of the chapel, where for a time thechants around King Henry had paused in the agitation of the new arrival.As the black and white crowd of priests and monks opened and made way forthe King and Duke, they saw, in the full light of the wax tapers, laid ona pile of cushions not far from King Henry's feet, the figure of Malcolm,his riding-gown open at the breast, and kerchiefs dyed and soaked withblood upon it; the black of his garments and hair enhancing the ghastlywhiteness of his face, and yet an air of peace and joy in the eyes and inthe folded hands, as Dr. Bennet and another priest stood over him,administering those abbreviated rites of farewell blessing which theChurch sanctioned in cases of sudden and violent death. The princes bothstood aside, and presently Malcolm faintly said, 'Thank God! I trustedto His mercy to pardon! Now all would be well could I but see the Duke.'

  'I am here, dear youth,' said Bedford, kneeling on one side of him; whileJames, coming to the other side, spoke to him affectionately; but to himMalcolm only replied by a fond clasp of the hand, giving his soleattention to Bedford, to whom he held the signet.

  'It has cost too much,' said Bedford, sadly.

  'Oh, Sir, this would be naught, save that I am all that lies betweenher--the Lady Esclairmonde--and Boemond of Burgundy;' and as at thatmoment Bedford saw the gold betrothal ring on the finger, his countenancelost something of the pitying concern it had worn. Malcolm detected theexpression, and rallying his powers the more, continued: 'Sir, there wasno help--they vowed that she must choose between Boemond and me. On thefaith of a dying man, I hold her troth but in trust; I pledged myself toher to restore it when her way is clear to her purpose. She would neverbe mine but in name. And now who will save her? My life alone isbetween her and yonder wolf. Oh, Sir Duke, promise me to save her, and Idie content.'

  'This is mere waste of time!' broke in the Duke. 'Where are the knavechirurgeons?--See, James, if the lad dies, 'twill be from mere loss ofblood; there is no inward bleeding; and if there be no more loitering, hewill do well.'

  And seeing the surgeons at hand, he would have risen to make way, butMalcolm held him fast, reiterating, 'Save her, Sir.'

  'If your life guards her, throw it not away by thus dallying,' saidBedford, disengaging himself; while Malcolm groaned heavily, and turnedhis heavy eyes to his royal friend, who said kindly, 'Fear not, dearcousin; either thou wilt live, or he will be better than his word.'

  'God will guard her, I know,' said Malcolm; 'and oh! my own dear lord, Ineed not ask you to be the brother to my poor sister you have been to me.At least all will be clear for her and Patie!'

  'I trust not yet,' said James, smiling in encouragement. 'Thou wiltlive, my faithful laddie.'

  Malcolm was spent and nearly fainting by this time, and all his reply wasa few gasps of 'Only say you pardon me all, my lord, and will speak for_her_ to the Duke! ask _her_ prayers for me!' and as James sealed his fewwords of reply with a kiss, he closed his eyes, and became unconscious;in which state he was conveyed to his bed.

  'You might have set his mind at rest,' said James, somewhat hurt, to theDuke.

  'Who? I!' said Bedford. 'I cannot stir a finger that could set us atenmity with Burgundy, for any lady in the land. Moreover, if she havefound means to secure herself once, she can do so again.'

  'I would you could have been more kind to my poor boy,' said James.

  'Methought I was the most reasonably kind of you all! Had it not beenmere murder to keep him there prating and bleeding, I had asked of himwhat indiscretion had blown the secret and perilled the signet. Norobbers were those between Paris and Vincennes in our midst, but men whoknew what he bore. I'll never--'

  Bedford just restrained himself from saying, 'trust a Scot again;' buthis manner had vexed and pained James, who returned to Malcolm, and lefthim no more till called by necessity to his post as King Henry's chiefmourner, when the care of him was left to Patrick Drummond and oldBairdsbrae; and Malcolm was a very tranquil patient, who seemed to neednothing but the pleasure of looking at the ring on his finger. Theweapon had evidently touched no vital part, and he was decidedly on theway to recovery, when on the second evening Bedford met James, saying: 'Ihave seen Robsart. It was no indiscretion of young Glenuskie's. It wasonly what comes of dealing with women. Can I see the boy without perilto him?'

  Malcolm was so much better, that there was no reason against the Duke'sadmission, and soon Bedford's falcon-face looked down on him in all itsmelancholy.

  'Thanks, my Lord Glenuskie,' he said; 'I thought not to be sending you ona service of such risk.'


  'It was a welcome service,' said Malcolm.

  Bedford's brows knitted themselves for a moment as he said, 'I came toask whether you deem that this hurt was from a common robber or_routier_.'

  'Assuredly not,' said Malcolm, but very low; and looking up into hisface, as he added, 'This should be for your ear alone, Sir.'

  They were left alone, and the Duke said: 'I have heard from Robsart howthe ring was obtained. You may spare that part of the story.'

  'Sir,' said Malcolm, 'when the Lady Esclairmonde' (for he was not to bebalked of dwelling on that name with prolonged delight) 'had brought methe ring, Sir Lewis Robsart advised my setting forth without loss oftime.'

  'So he told me,' said the Duke; 'and likewise that you took his words soliterally as to set out with only three followers.'

  'Ay, Sir; but he knew not wherefore. My escort had gone forth into thecity, and while they were being collected, a message bade me to the LadyEsclairmonde's presence. I went, suspecting naught, but I found myselfin presence of Madame of Hainault, and of a veiled lady--who, my Lord--'He paused. 'She was broad in form, and had a trick of gasping as thoughover-fat.'

  Bedford nodded. Every one knew Queen Isabeau by these tokens.

  'She scarce spoke, my Lord; but the Countess Jaqueline pretended to be inone of her merry moods. She told me one good turn deserved another, andthat, as in gratitude and courtesy bound, I must do her the favour ofeither lending her the signet, or, if I would not let it out of my hands,of setting it to a couple of parchments, which she declared King Henryhad promised to grant.'

  'The false woman!'

  'Sir, words told not on her. She laughed and clapped her hands atwhatever I said of honour, faith, or trust. She would have it that itwas a jest--nay, romping fashion, she seized my hand, which I let herhave, knowing it was only my own seal that was on it. Never was I soglad that the signet being too small for my fingers, it was in my bosom.'

  'Knew you what the parchments bore?' asked, Bedford, anxiously.

  'One--so far as I could see--was of the Duke of Orleans' liberty,' saidMalcolm. 'The other--pardon me, Sir--it bore the names of Duke Humfreyand Countess Jaqueline.'

  'The shameless wanton!' broke forth Bedford. 'How did you escape her atlast, boy?'

  'Sir,' said Malcolm, turning as red as loss of blood permitted, 'she hadnot kept her hands off me; therefore when she stood between me and thedoor, I told her that discourtesy was better than trust-breaking, andwhile she jeered at my talking out of a book of chivalry, I e'en took herby the hands, lifted her aside, opened the door, ran down-stairs, and soto the stables, where I mounted with the only three men I could gettogether.'

  Bedford could not but laugh, as he added, 'Bravely done, Lord Malcolm;but, I fear me, she will never forgive you. What next?'

  'I left word for the other fellows to join us at the hostel by the gate,and tarried for them till I feared being here after the gates were fast;then set out without them, and rode till, just within the forest, a bandof men, how many I cannot tell, were on us, and before my sword was welldrawn they had surrounded me, and seized my bridle. One of them bade mesubmit quietly, and they would not harm me, if I would yield up thatwhich I wist of. I said I would sooner yield my life than my trust;whereupon they mastered me, and dragged me off my horse, and were riflingme, when I--knowing the Flemish accent of that drunken fellow of theCountess's--called out, "Shame on you, Ghisbert!" Then it was that hestabbed me, even at the moment when the holy Saints sent brave Percy andthe rest to rush in upon them.'

  'You are sure it was Ghisbert?' repeated Bedford, anxiously.

  'As certain as a man's voice can make me,' said Malcolm. 'Methinks, hadI not named him, he would perhaps have bound me to a tree, and left it tobe thought that they were but common thieves.'

  'Belike,' said Bedford, thoughtfully. 'We are beholden to you, my LordGlenuskie; the whole state of England is beholden to you for the savingof the confusion and evils the loss of that ring would have caused. Youcan keep counsel, I wot well. Then let all this matter of the Queen andCountess rest a secret.'

  Malcolm looked amazed; and Bedford added: 'I cannot quarrel with thewoman, nor banish her from Court. Did we accuse her, Holland wouldbecome Armagnac; nor is she subject of ours, to have justice done on her.It is for her interest to hush the matter up, and it must be ours too. Ifthat knave Ghisbert ever gives me the chance, he shall hang like a dog;but for the rest--' he shrugged his shoulders.

  'And,' said Malcolm, 'Ghisbert only meant to serve his lady. Any vassalof mine would do the like for me or my sister.'

  Bedford half smiled; then sighed and said: 'Once we were like to get lawsmore obeyed than lords; but that is all over now! Yet you, young Sir,have seen a great pattern; you will have great powers!'

  'Sir,' interrupted Malcolm, 'I pray you believe me, great powers I shallnot have. As I told you last night, I do but hold this precious troth intrust! It must be a secret, or it would not save her; but you--oh, Sir!you will believe that!'

  'If it be so,' said Bedford, gravely, 'it is too sacred a trust to bespoken of. You will deserve greater honour if you keep your word, thanever you will receive from the world. Farewell--and recover fast.'

  Malcolm did not meet with much encouragement from the few to whom hethought fit to confide the conditions of his espousal. The King allowedthat he could not have acted otherwise, but was concerned at it, becauseof the hindrance that might for years be interposed in the way of hiswelfare; and secretly hoped that Malcolm, in his new capacity, would sogain on Esclairmonde's esteem and gratitude, as to win her affection, andthat by mutual consent they would lay aside their loftier promises, andtake up their espousal where they had left it.

  And what James secretly desired, Sir Patrick Drummond openly recommended.In his eyes, Malcolm would be no better than a fool if he let his ladye-love, with all her lands, slip through his fingers, when she was lawfullyhis own. Patrick held that a monastery was a good place to be nursed inif wounded, and a convenience for disposing of dull or weakly youngersons; and he preferred that there should be some holy men to pray forthose who did the hard and bloody work of the world; but he had no desirethat any one belonging to himself should plunge into extra sanctity; andthe more he saw Malcolm developing into a man among men, the more heopposed the notion of his dedicating himself.

  A man! Yes; Malcolm was rising from his bed notably advanced inmanliness. As the King's keen eye had seen from the first, and asEsclairmonde had felt, there was an elevation, tenderness, and refinementin his cast of character, which if left to his natural destiny would haveeither worn out his life early in the world, or carried him to theobscure shelter of a convent. In the novelty of the secular life, andtemptations of all kinds, dread of ridicule, and the flood of excitementswhich came with reviving health, that very sensitiveness led him astray;and the elevated aims fell with a heavier fall when diverted fromheavenly palaces to earthly ones. Self-reproach and dejection drove himfurther from the right course, and in proportion to the greater amount ofconscience he had by nature, his character was the more deteriorating.His deeds were far less evil in themselves than those of many of hiscompanions, but inasmuch as they were not thoughtless in him, they wereinjuring him more. But the sudden shock of Patrick's danger roused himto a new sense of shame. King Henry's death had lifted his mind out ofthe earthly atmosphere, and then the treasure of Esclairmonde's pure andperfect trust seemed to be the one thing to be guarded worthily andtruly. It gave him weight, drew him out of himself, lifted him above theboyish atmosphere of random self-indulgence and amusement. To be theprotector who should guard her vows for the heavenly Bridegroom to whomher soul was devoted, was indeed a championship that in his eyes couldonly have befitted Sir Galahad; and a Galahad would he strive to be, solong as that championship held him to the secular life. James andBedford both told him he had won his spurs, and should have them on thenext fit occasion; but he had ceased to care for knighthood, save in thathalf-consecrated aspect which he though
t would render his guardianshipless unmeet for Esclairmonde.

  She had not shunned to send him a kind greeting on hearing of his wound,and by way of token a fresh leaf of vellum with a few more of thosemeditations from Zwoll--meditations that he spelled over from Latin intoEnglish, and dwelt upon in great tranquillity and soothing of spiritduring the days that he was confined to his bed.

  These were not many. He was on his feet by the time the funeralcavalcade was in readiness to move from Vincennes to convey Henry ofMonmouth to his last resting-place in Westminster Abbey. Bedford couldnot be spared to return to England, and was only to go as far as Calais;and James of Scotland was therefore to act as chief mourner, attended byhis own small personal suite.

  Sir Patrick Drummond--though, shrugging his shoulders, he muttered thathe should as soon have thought of becoming mourner at the foul fiend'sfuneral as at the King of England's--could not object to swell theretinue of his sovereign by his knighthood; and though neither he norMalcolm were in condition for a campaign, both could ride at the slowpace of the mournful procession.

  The coffin was laid on a great car, drawn by four black horses, andsurmounted by Henry's effigy, made in boiled leather and coloured to thelife, robed in purple and ermine, crown on head, sceptre and orb ineither hand. The great knights and nobles rode on each side, carryingthe banners of the Saints; and close behind came James and Bedford, eachwith his immediate attendants; then the household officers of the King,Fitzhugh his chamberlain, Montagu his cup-bearer, Ralf Percy and hisother squires, and all the rest. Four hundred men-at-arms in blackarmour, with lances pointed downwards, formed the guard behind; and thevanguard was of clergy, robed in white, bearing banners and wax lights,and chanting psalms. At the border of every parish, all theecclesiastics thereto appertaining, parochial, chantry, and monastic,turned out to meet the procession with their tapers; escorted it to theprincipal church; performed Mass there, if it were in the forenoon; andthen accompanied the coffin to the other limit of their ground, andconsigned it to the clerks of the next parish. At night, the royalremains always rested in a church, guarded by alternate watches of theEnglish men-at-arms, and sung over by the local clergy, while the escortwere quartered in the town, village, or abbey where the halt chanced tobe made. Very slow was this progress; almost like a continual dream wasthat long column, moving, moving on--white in front, black behind--whenseen winding over a hill, or, sometimes, the banners peering over theautumn foliage of some thicket, all composed to profound silence andtardy measured tread; while the chants rose and fell with the breeze,like unearthly music. Many moved on more than half asleep; and others ofthe younger men felt like Ralf Percy, who, for all his real sorrow forthe King, declared that, were it not for rushing out, morning andevening, for a bathe and a gallop, to fly a hawk or chase a hare, heshould some day run crazed, blow out all the wax lights, or play some madprank to break the intolerable oppression. Malcolm smiled at this; butto him, still in the dreamy inertness of recovery, this tranquil onwardmovement in the still autumn weather had some thing in it of healinginfluence; and the sweet chants, the continual offices of devotion, wereaccordant with his present tone of mind, and deepened the purpose he hadformed.

  Queen Catherine and her ladies joined the funeral march at Rouen, orrather followed it at a mile's interval; but the two trains kept apart,and only occasional messages were sent from one to the other. Some ofthe gentlemen, who had a wife or sister in the Queen's suite, would rideat nightfall to pay her a hasty visit; but Malcolm--though he longed tobe sent--durst not intrude upon Esclairmonde; and the Duke of Bedford wasnot only forced to spend all the evening and half the night in business,but was not loth to put off the day of the meeting with his dear sisterCatherine--to say nothing of the 'Woman of Hainault.'

  Therefore it was not until all had arrived at Calais, where a fleet waswaiting to meet them, that any visits were openly made by the one partyto the other.

  Bedford and James went together to the apartments of the Queen, and whilethey saw her in private, Malcolm came blushing towards Esclairmonde, andwas welcomed by her with a frank smile, outstretched hand, and kindinquiry after his recovery.

  She treated him indeed as a brother, as one on whom she depended, and hadreally wished to see and arrange with. She told him that Alice Montaguand her husband were returning to England, and that her little friend hadso earnestly prayed her to abide with her at Middleham for the present,that she had consented--'until such time as the way be open,' saidEsclairmonde, with her steady patient smile.

  Malcolm bowed his head. 'I am glad you will not be forced to be withyour Countess,' he said.

  'My poor lady! Maybe I have spoken too plainly. But I owe her much. Imust ever pray for her. And you, my lord?'

  'I,' said Malcolm, 'shall go to study at Oxford. Dr. Bennet intendsreturning thither to continue his course of teaching, and my king hasconsented to my studying with him. It will not cut me off, lady, fromthat which you permit me to be. King Henry and his brothers have allbeen scholars there.'

  'I understand,' said Esclairmonde, slightly colouring. 'It is well. Andtruly I trust that matters may be so guided, that care for me may notlong detain you from more lasting vows--be they of heaven or earth.'

  'Lady,' said Malcolm, earnestly, 'none who had been plighted to you_could_ pledge himself to aught else save One above!'

  Then, feeling in himself, or seeing in Esclairmonde's face, that he wastreading on dangerous ground, he asked leave to present to her hiscousin, Patrick Drummond: and this was accordingly done; the ladycomporting herself with so much sweet graciousness, that the good knight,as they left the hall, exclaimed: 'By St. Andrew, Malcolm, if you letthat maiden escape you now she is more than half-wedded to you, you'll bethe greatest fool in broad Scotland. Why, she is a very queen forbeauty, and would rule Glenuskie like a princess--ay, and defend theCastle like Black Agnes of Dunbar herself! If you give her up, ye'll beno better than a clod.'

  Malcolm and Patrick had been borne off by James's quitting the Castle;Bedford remained longer, having affairs to arrange with the Queen. As heleft her, he too turned aside to the window where Esclairmonde sat asusual spinning, and Lady Montagu not far off, but at present absorbed byher father, who was to remain in France.

  One moment's hesitation, and then Bedford stepped towards the Demoisellede Luxemburg, and greeted her. She looked up in his face, and saw itssettled look of sad patient energy, which made it full ten years older inappearance than when they had sat together at Pentecost, and she markedthe badge that he had assumed, a torn-up root with the motto, 'The rootis dead.'

  'Ah! my lord, things are changed,' she could not help saying, as she feltthat he yearned for comfort.

  'Changed indeed!' he said; 'God's will be done! Lady,' he added, 'youwot of that which once passed between us. I was grieved at first thatyou chose a different protector in your need.'

  'You _could_ not, my lord,' faltered Esclairmonde, crimson as she neverhad been when speaking to Malcolm.

  'No, I _could_ not,' said Bedford; 'and, lady, my purpose was to thankyou for the generous soul that perceived that so it is. You spared mefrom a cruel case. I have no self any longer, Esclairmonde; all I am,all I have, all I can, must be spent in guarding Harry's work for hisboy. To all else I am henceforth dead; and all I can do is to bethankful, lady, that you have spared me the sorest trial of all, both toheart and honour.'

  Esclairmonde's eyes were downcast, as she said, 'Heaven is the protectorof those of true and kind purpose;' and then gathering courage, as beingperfectly aware to whom Bedford must give his hand if he would conciliateBurgundy, she added, 'And, verily, Sir, the way of policy is this time ahappy one. Let me but tell you how I have known and loved gentle LadyAnne.'

  Bedford shook his head with a half smile and a heavy sigh. 'Time failsme, dear lady,' he said; 'and I cannot brook any maiden's praise, evenfrom you. I only wait to ask whether there be any way yet left wherein Ican serve you. I will strive to deal with your kinsmen to
restore yourlands.'

  'Hold!' said Esclairmonde. 'Never for lands of mine will I have yourdifficulties added to. No--let them go! It was a vain, proud dream whenI thought myself most humble, to become a foundress; and if I know mykinsmen, they will be too much angered to bestow on me the dower requiredby a convent. No, Sir; all I would dare to inquire would be, whether youhave any voice in choosing the bedeswomen of St. Katharine's Hospital?'

  'The bedeswomen! They come chiefly from the citizens, not from princelyhouses like yours!' said John, in consternation.

  'I have done with princely houses,' said Esclairmonde. 'A Flemish maidenwould be of no small service among the many whom trade brings to yourport from the Netherlands, and my longing has ever been to serve my Lordthrough His poor and afflicted.'

  'It is my father's widow who holds the appointments,' said John. 'Betweenher and me there hath been little good-will, but my dear brother's lastact towards her was of forgiveness. She may wish to keep well with us ofthe Regency--and more like still, she will be pleased that one of sogreat a house as yours should sue to her. I will give you a letter toher, praying her to remember you at the next vacancy; and mayhap, if theLady Montagu could take you to visit her, you could prevail with her!But, surely, some nunnery more worthy of your rank--'

  'There is none that I should love so well,' said Esclairmonde, smiling.'Mayhap I have learnt to be a vagabond, but I cannot but desire to toilas well as pray.'

  'And you are willing to wait for a vacancy?'

  'When once safe from my kinsmen, in England, I will wait under my kindAlice's wing till--till it becomes expedient that yonder gentleman be setfree.'

  'You trust him?' said Bedford.

  'Entirely,' responded Esclairmonde, heartily.

  'Happy lad!' half sighed the Duke; but, even as he did so, he stood up tobid the lady adieu--lingering for a moment more, to gaze at the face hehad longed for permission to love--and thus take leave of all his youthand joy, addressing himself again to that burthen of care which inthirteen years laid him in his grave at Rouen.

  As he left the Castle and came out into the steep fortified street, RalfPercy came up to him, laughing. 'Here, my lord, are those two honestYorkshire knights running all over Calais to make a petition to you.'

  'What--Trenton and Kitson! I thought their year of service was up, andthey were going home!'

  'Ay, my lord,' said Kitson, who with his comrade had followed close inPercy's wake, 'we were going home to bid Mistress Agnes take her choiceof us; but this morn we've met a pursuivant that is come with Norroy King-at-arms, and what doth he but tell us that no sooner were our backsturned, than what doth Mistress Agnes but wed--ay, wed outright--one Tomof the Lee, a sneaking rogue that either of us would have beat black andblue, had we ever seen him utter a word to her? A knight's lady--not tosay two--as she might have been! So, my lord, we not being willing to gohome and be a laughing-stock, crave your license to be of your guard aswe were of King Harry's, and show how far we can go among the French.'

  'And welcome; no good swords can be other than welcome!' said Bedford,not diverted as his brother would have been, but with a heartiness thatnever failed to win respectful affection.

  Long did James and Bedford walk up and down the Castle court together,while the embarkation was going on. The question weighed on them bothwhether they should ever meet more, after eighteen years of youth spenttogether.

  'Youth is gone,' said Bedford. 'We have been under a mighty master, andnow God help us to do his work.'

  'You!' said James; 'but for me--it is like to be the library and theRound Tower again.'

  'Scarcely,' said Bedford, 'the Beauforts will never rest till Joan is ona throne.'

  James smiled.

  'Ay,' said Bedford, 'the Bishop of Winchester will be no small power, youwill find. Would that I could throw up this France and come home, for heand Humfrey will clash for ever. James, an you love me, see Humfreyalone, and remind him that all the welfare of Harry's child may hang onhis forbearance--on union with the Bishop. Tell him, if he ever lovedthe noblest brother that ever lived, to rein himself in, and live onlyfor the child's good, not his own. Tell him that Bedford and Gloucestermust be nothing henceforth--only heads and hands doing Harry's will forhis babe. Oh, James, what can you tell Humfrey that will make him puthimself aside?'

  'You have writ to him Harry's words as to Dame Jac?'

  'The wanton! ay, I have; and if you can whisper in his ear that matter ofMalcolm and the signet, it might lessen his inclination. But,' hesighed, 'I have little hope, James; I see nothing for Lancaster but thatwhich the old man at York invoked upon us!'

  'Yet, when I look at you and Humfrey, and think of the contrast with myown father's brethren, I see nothing but hope and promise for England,'said James.

  'We must do our best, however heavy-hearted,' said John of Bedford,pausing in his walk, and standing steadfast. 'The rod becomes a palm tothose who do not freshly bring it on themselves. May this poor child ofHarry's be bred up so that he may be fit to meet evil or good!'

  'Poor child,' repeated James. 'Were he not there, and you--'

  'Peace, James,' said Bedford; 'it is well that such a weight is notadded! While I act for my nephew, I know my duty; were it for myself,methinks I should be crazed with doubts and questions. Well,' as amessenger came up with tidings that all was ready, 'fare thee well,Jamie. In you I lose the only man with whom I can speak my mind, or takecounsel. You'll not let me gain a foe, as well as lose a friend, whenyou get home?'

  'Never, in heart, John!' said the King. 'As to hand--Scotland must be toEngland what she will have her. Would that I saw my way thither! Windsorwill have lost all that made captivity well-nigh sweet. And so farewell,dear brother. I thank you for the granting to me of this sacred charge.'

  And so, with hands clasped and wrung together, with tears raining fromJames's eyes, and a dry settled melancholy more sad than tears on John'scountenance, the two friends parted, never again to meet; each to run acourse true, brave, and short--extinguished the one in bitter grief, theother in blood.

  On All Saints' Day, while James stood with Humfrey of Gloucester at thehead of the grave at Westminster, where Henry's earthly form was laid torest amid the kings his fathers, amid the wail of a people as sorrowfulas if they knew all the woes that were to ensue, Bedford was in likemanner standing over a grave at the Royal Abbey of St. Denis. He, thevictor's brother, represented all the princely kindred of Charles VI. ofFrance, and, with his heart at Westminster, filled the chief mourner'splace over the king who had pined to death for his conqueror.

  The same infant was proclaimed king over each grave--heir to France andEngland, to Valois and Lancaster. Poor child, his real heirloom was theinsanity of the one and the doom of the other! Well for him that therewas within him that holy innocence that made his life a martyrdom!