by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER IV.
A KNIGHT'S CHAIN
The following morning Walter put on the sober russet dress which he woreon Sundays and holidays, for gay colors were not allowed to theapprentices, and set out for Westminster. Although he endeavored toassume an air of carelessness and ease as he approached the dwelling ofEarl Talbot, he was very far from feeling comfortable, and wished in hisheart that his master had accompanied him on his errand. Half a dozenmen-at-arms were standing on the steps of the mansion, who looked withhaughty surprise at the young apprentice.
"Dame Alice Vernon has sent to express her desire to have speech withme," he said quietly, "and I would fain know if she can receive me."
"Here, Dikon," one of the men cried to another within the hall. "This isthe lad you were sent to fetch yesterday. I wondered much who the cityapprentice was who, with such an assured air, marched up to the door;but if what thou sayest be true, that he saved the life of Dame Vernonand her little daughter, he must be a brave lad, and would be more inplace among men and soldiers than in serving wares behind the counterof a fat city tradesman."
"I serve behind no counter," Walter said indignantly. "I am an armorer,and mayhap can use arms as well as make them."
There was a laugh among the men at the boy's sturdy self-assertion, andthen the man named Dikon said:
"Come along, lad. I will take you to Dame Vernon at once. She isexpecting you; and, my faith, it would not be safe to leave you standinghere long, for I see you would shortly be engaged in splitting theweasands of my comrades."
There was another roar of laughter from the men, and Walter, somewhatabashed, followed his conductor into the house. Leading him through thehall and along several corridors, whose spaciousness and splendor quiteoverpowered the young apprentice, he handed him over to a waiting-woman,who ushered him into an apartment where Dame Vernon was reclining on acouch. Her little daughter was sitting upon a low stool beside her, andupon seeing Walter she leaped to her feet, clapping her hands.
"Oh! mother, this is the boy that rescued us out of the river."
The lady looked with some surprise at the lad. She had but a faintremembrance of the events which occurred between the time when shereceived a blow from the sword of one of her assailants and that whenshe found herself on a couch in the abode of her kinsman; and when shehad been told that she had been saved by a city apprentice, she hadpictured to herself a lad of a very different kind to him who now stoodbefore her.
Walter was now nearly sixteen years old. His frame was very powerful andfirmly knit. His dark-brown hair was cut short, but, being somewhatlonger than was ordinary with the apprentices, fell with a slight waveback on his forehead. His bearing was respectful, and at the same timeindependent. There was none of that confusion which might be expected onthe part of a lad from the city in the presence of a lady of rank. Hisdark, heavy eyebrows, resolute mouth, and square chin gave an expressionof sternness to his face, which was belied by the merry expression ofhis eyes and the bright smile when he was spoken to.
"I have to thank you, young sir," she said, holding out her hand, whichWalter, after the custom of the time, raised to his lips, bending uponone knee as he did so, "for the lives of myself and my daughter, whichwould surely have been lost had you not jumped over to save us."
"I am glad that I arrived in time to be of aid," Walter said frankly;"but indeed I am rather to be blamed than praised, for had I, when Iheard the plotting against the safety of the boat, told my master of it,as I should have done, instead of taking the adventure upon mine ownshoulders, doubtless a boat would have been sent up in time to preventthe attack from taking place. Therefore, instead of being praised forhaving arrived a little too late, I should be rated for not having comethere in time."
Dame Vernon smiled.
"Although you may continue to insist that you are to blame, this doesnot alter the fact that you have saved our lives. Is there any way inwhich I can be useful to you? Are you discontented with your state? for,in truth, you look as if Nature had intended you for a gallant soldierrather than a city craftsman. Earl Talbot, who is my uncle, would, I amsure, receive you into his following should you so choose it, and Iwould gladly pay for the canceling of your indentures."
"I thank you, indeed, lady, for your kind offices," Walter saidearnestly; "for the present I am well content to remain at my craft,which is that of an armorer, until, at any rate, I have gained suchmanly strength and vigor as would fit me for a man-at-arms, and my goodmaster, Geoffrey Ward, will, without payment received, let me go when Iask that grace of him."
"Edith, go and look from the window at the boats passing along theriver; and now," she went on as the girl had obeyed her orders, "I wouldfain ask you more about the interview you overheard in the marshes. SirWilliam de Hertford told me of the evidence that you had given beforethe justice. It is passing strange that he who incited the other to thedeed should have been by him termed 'Sir Knight.' Maybe it was merely anickname among his fellows."
"Before I speak, lady," Walter said quietly, "I would fain know whetheryou wish to be assured of the truth. Sometimes, they say, it is wiser toremain in ignorance; at other times forewarned is forearmed. Frankly, Idid not tell all I know before the court, deeming that peradventure youmight wish to see me, and that I could then tell the whole to yourprivate ear, should you wish to know it, and you could then bid meeither keep silence or proclaim all I knew when the trial of theseevil-doers comes on."
"You seem to me to be wise beyond your years, young sir," the lady said.
"The wisdom is not mine, lady, but my master's. I took counsel with him,and acted as he advised me."
"I would fain know all," the lady said. "I have already strangesuspicions of one from whom assuredly I looked not for such evildesigns. It will grieve me to be convinced that the suspicions are wellfounded; but it will be better to know the truth than to remain in astate of doubt."
"The person, then, was a knight, for I had seen him before when he camein knightly harness into my master's shop to have two rivets put intohis hauberk. I liked not his face then, and should have remembered itanywhere. I knew him at once when I saw him. He was a dark-faced knight,handsome, and yet with features which reminded me of a hawk."
Dame Vernon gave a little exclamation, which assured the lad that sherecognized the description.
"You may partly know, lady, whether it is he whom you suppose, for hesaid that he would detain your boat so that it should not come alonguntil dark, and, moreover, he told them that they would know the boatsince you would be wrapped in a white mantle."
The lady sat for some time with her face hidden in her hands.
"It is as I feared," she said at last, "and it grieves me to the heartto think that one who, although not so nearly related in blood, Iregarded as a brother, should have betrayed me to death. My mind istroubled indeed, and I know not what course I shall take, whether toreveal this dreadful secret or to conceal it."
"I may say, madam," Walter said earnestly, "that should you wish thematter to remain a secret, you may rely upon it that I will tell no moreat the trial than I revealed yesterday; but I would remind you thatthere is a danger that the leader of yon ruffians, who is probably aloneacquainted with the name of his employer, may, under the influence ofthe torture, reveal it."
"That fear is for the present past, since a messenger arrived fromKingston but a few minutes since, saying that yester even, under thethreat of torture, the prisoners had pointed out the one among theirnumber who was their chief. This morning, however, it was found that thewarder who had charge of them had been bribed; he was missing from hispost, and the door of the cell wherein the principal villain had beenimmured, apart from the others, was opened, and he had escaped."
"Then," Walter said, "it is now open to you to speak or be silent as youwill. You will pardon my forwardness if I say that my master, in talkingthe matter over with me, suggested that this evil knight might be scaredfrom attempting any future enterprise against you were he informed th
atit was known to several persons that he was the author of this outrage,and that if any further attempts were at any time made against you, theproofs of his crime would be laid before the king."
"Thanks, good lad," the lady said, "for your suggestion. Should I decideto keep the matter secret, I will myself send him a message to thateffect, in such guise that he would not know whence it comes. And now, Iwould fain reward you for what you have done for us; and," she went on,seeing a flush suddenly mount upon the lad's face as he made a half-stepbackward, "before I saw you, had thought of offering you a purse ofgold, which, although it would but poorly reward your services, wouldyet have proved useful to you when the time came for you to start as acraftsman on your own account; but now that I have seen you, I feel thatalthough there are few who think themselves demeaned by accepting giftsof money in reward for services, you would rather my gratitude tooksome other form. It can only do that of offering you such good servicesthat I can render with Earl Talbot, should you ever choose theprofession of arms; and in the mean time, as a memento of the lives youhave saved, you will, I am sure, not refuse this chain," and she took avery handsome one of gold from her neck, "the more so since it was thegift of her majesty, our gracious queen, to myself. She will, I am sure,acquit me of parting with her gift when I tell her that I transferred itto one who had saved the lives of myself and my daughter, and who wastoo proud to accept other acknowledgment."
Coloring deeply, and with tears in his eyes at the kindness andthoughtful consideration of the lady, Walter knelt on one knee beforeher, and she placed round his neck the long gold chain which she hadbeen wearing.
"It is a knight's chain," the lady said, smiling, "and was part of thespoil gained by King Edward from the French. Maybe," she added kindly,"it will be worn by a knight again. Stranger things have happened, youknow."
Walter flushed again with pleasure.
"Maybe, lady," he said modestly, "even apprentices have their dreams,and men-at-arms may always hope, by deeds of valor, to attain a knight'sspurs even though they may not be of noble blood or have served as pageand squire to a baron; but whether as a 'prentice or soldier, I hope Ishall never do discredit to your gift."
"Edith, come here," Dame Vernon said, "I have done talking now. And whatare you going to give this brave knight of ours who saved us fromdrowning?"
The girl looked thoughtfully at Walter. "I don't think you would carefor presents," she said; "and you look as if a sword or a horse wouldsuit you better than a girl's gift. And yet I should like to give yousomething, such as ladies give their knights who have done brave deedsfor them. It must be something quite my own, and you must take it as akeepsake. What shall it be, mamma?"
"Give him the bracelet which your cousin gave you last week," her mothersaid; "I would rather that you did not keep it, and I know you are notvery fond of him."
"I can't bear him," the girl said earnestly, "and I wish he would notkiss me; he always looks as if he were going to bite, and I will gladlygive his bracelet to this brave boy."
"Very well, Edith, fetch the bracelet from that coffer in the corner."
The girl went to the coffer and brought out the little bracelet; thenshe approached Walter.
"You must go down on your knee," she said; "true knights always do thatto receive their lady's gifts. Now hold out your hand. There," she wenton in a pretty imperious way, "take this gage as a reward of your valor,and act ever as a true knight in the service of your lady."
"TAKE THIS GAGE AS A REWARD OF YOUR VALOR."--Page 62]
Bending down she dropped a kiss upon Walter's glowing cheek, andthen, half-frightened at her own temerity, ran back to her mother'sside.
"And now," Dame Vernon went on, "will you thank your five comrades fortheir service in the matter, and give them each two gold pieces to spendas they will?"
"He is a noble lad," Dame Vernon had said to herself when Walter hadtaken his leave. "Would he had been the son of one of the nobles of thecourt! It might have been then, if he had distinguished himself in war,as he would surely do, that the king might have assigned Edith to him.As her lord and guardian he is certain to give her hand as a reward forvalor in the field, and it may well be to a man with whom she would beless happy than with this 'prentice lad; but there, I need not betroubling myself about a matter which is five or six years distant yet.Still, the thought that Edith is a ward of the crown, and that her handmust go where the king wills, often troubles me. However, I have a goodfriend in the queen, who will, I know, exert what influence she has ingetting me a good husband for my child. But even for myself I have somefears, since the king hinted, when last he saw me, that it was time Ilooked out for another mate, for that the vassals of Westerham and Hydeneeded a lord to lead them in the field. However, I hope that my answerthat they were always at his service under the leading of my CousinJames will suffice for him. Now, what am I to do in that matter? Whowould have thought that he so coveted my lands that he would have slainme and Edith to possess himself of them? His own lands are thrice asbroad as mine, though men say that he has dipped deeply into them andowes much money to the Jews. He is powerful and has many friends, andalthough Earl Talbot would stand by me, yet the unsupported word of anapprentice boy were but poor evidence on which to charge a powerfulbaron of such a crime as this. It were best, methinks, to say naughtabout it, but to bury the thought in my own heart. Nevertheless, I willnot fail to take the precaution which the lad advised, and to let SirJames know that there are some who have knowledge of his handiwork. Ihear he crosses the seas to-morrow to join the army, and it may be longere he return. I shall have plenty of time to consider how I had bestshape my conduct toward him on his return; but assuredly he shall neverbe friendly with me again or frighten Edith with his kisses."
"Well, Walter, has it been such a dreadful business as you expected?"the armorer asked the lad when he reentered the shop. "The great folkshave not eaten you, at any rate."
"It has not been dreadful," Walter replied with a smile, "though I ownthat it was not pleasant when I first arrived at the great mansion; butthe lady put me quite at my ease, and she talked to me for some time,and finally she bestowed on me this chain, which our lady, the queen,had herself given her."
"It is a knight's chain and a heavy one," Geoffrey said, examining it,"of Genoese work, I reckon, and worth a large sum. It will buy youharness when you go to the wars."
"I would rather fight in the thickest _melee_ in a cloth doublet,"Walter said indignantly, "than part with a single link of it."
"I did but jest, Walter," Geoffrey said, laughing; "but as you will notsell it, and you cannot wear it, you had best give it me to put aside inmy strong coffer until you get of knightly rank."
"Lady Vernon said," the lad replied, "that she hoped one day it mightagain belong to a knight; and if I live," he added firmly, "it shall."
"Oh! she has been putting these ideas into your head; nice notions trulyfor a London apprentice! I shall be laying a complaint before the lordmayor against Dame Vernon, for unsettling the mind of my apprentice andsetting him above his work. And the little lady, what said she? Did shegive you her colors and bid you wear them at a tourney?"
Walter colored hotly.
"Ah! I have touched you," laughed the armorer; "come now, out with thetruth. My lad," he added more gravely, "there is no shame in it; youknow that I have always encouraged your wishes to be a soldier, and havedone my best to render you as good a one as any who draws sword 'neaththe king's banner, and assuredly I would not have taken all these painswith you did I think that you were always to wear an iron cap and traila pike. I too, lad, hope some day to see you a valiant knight, and havereasons that you wot not of for my belief that it will be so. No manrises to rank and fame any the less quickly because he thinks thatbright eyes will grow brighter at his success."
"But, Geoffrey, you are talking surely at random. The Lady Edith Vernonis but a child; a very beautiful child," he added reverently, "and suchthat when she grows up the bravest knight in England mig
ht be proud towin. What folly for me, the son of a city bowyer, and as yet but anapprentice, to raise mine eyes so high!"
"The higher one looks the higher one goes," the armorer saidsententiously. "You aspire some day to become a knight, you may wellaspire also to win the hand of Mistress Edith Vernon. She is five yearsyounger than yourself, and you will be twenty-two when she is seventeen.You have time to make your way yet, and I tell you, though why itmatters not, that I would rather you set your heart on winning MistressEdith Vernon than any other heiress of broad lands in merry England. Youhave saved her life, and so have made the first step and a long one. Beever brave, gentle, and honorable, and, I tell you, you need notdespair; and now, lad, we have already lost too much time in talking;let us to our work."
That evening Walter recalled to Geoffrey his promise to tell him thecauses which had involved England in so long and bloody a war withFrance.
"It is a tangled skein," Geoffrey said, "and you must follow mecarefully. First, with a piece of chalk I will draw upon the wall thepedigree of the royal line of France from Philip downward, and then youwill see how it is that our King Edward and Philip of Valois came to berival claimants to the throne of France.
PHILIP, King of France. | ,---------'-----------------------, | | PHILIP LE BEL, CHARLES, King of France. Count | of Valois. ,-----------,-----'-----,-------------, | | | | | | LOUIS PHILIP CHARLES ISABELLA, PHILIP, LE HUTIN. LE LONG. LE BEL. Queen Count of England. of Valois. | | EDWARD III.
"Now, you see that our King Edward is nephew of Charles le Bel, the lastKing of France, while Philip of Valois is only nephew of Philip le Bel,the father of Charles. Edward is consequently in the direct line, andhad Isabella been a man instead of a woman his right to the throne wouldbe unquestionable. In France, however, there is a law, called the Saliclaw, which excludes females from the throne; but it is maintained bymany learned in the law, that although a female is held to beincompetent to reign because from her sex she cannot lead her armies tobattle, yet she no way forfeits otherwise her rights, and that her sonis therefore the heir to the throne. If this contention, which is heldby all English jurists, and by many in France also, be well founded,Edward is the rightful King of France. Philip of Valois contends thatthe Salic law not only bars a female from ascending the throne, but alsodestroys all her rights, and that the succession goes not to her sons,but to the next heir male; in which case, of course, Philip is rightfulking. It is not for me to say which view is the right one, but certainlythe great majority of those who have been consulted have decided that,according to ancient law and usage, the right lies with Edward. But inthese matters 'right is not always might.' Had Isabella married a Frenchnoble instead of an English king it is probable that her son's claims tothe throne would have been allowed without dispute, but her son is Kingof England, and the French nobles prefer being ruled by one ofthemselves to becoming united with England under one king.
"At the time of the death of the last king, Edward was still but a boyunder the tuition of his mother, Philip was a man, and upon the spot,therefore he was able to win support by his presence and promises, andso it came that the peers of France declared Philip of Valois to betheir rightful monarch. Here in England, at a parliament held atNorthampton, the rights of Edward were discussed and asserted, and theBishops of Worcester and Coventry were dispatched to Paris to protestagainst the validity of Philip's nomination. As, however, the countrywas not in a position to enforce the claim of their young king by arms,Philip became firmly seated as King of France, and having shown greatenergy in at once marching against and repressing the people ofFlanders, who were in a state of rebellion against their count, one ofthe feudatories of the French crown, the nobles were well satisfied withtheir choice, and no question as to his right was ever henceforth raisedin France. As soon as the rebellion in Flanders was crushed, Philipsummoned the King of England to do homage for Aquitaine, Ponthieu, andMontreuil, fiefs held absolutely from the crown of France. Such aproceeding placed Edward and his council in a great embarrassment. Incase of a refusal the whole of the possessions of the crown in Francemight be declared forfeited and be seized, while England was in nocondition to defend them; on the other hand, the fact of doing homage toPhilip of Valois would be a sort of recognition of his right to thethrone he had assumed. Had Edward then held the reins of power in hishands, there can be little doubt that he would at once have refused, andwould have called out the whole strength of England to enforce hisclaim. The influence of Isabella and Mortimer was, however,all-powerful, and it was agreed that Edward should do homage as a publicact, making a private reservation in secret to his own councilors,taking exception to the right of Philip.
"Edward crossed to France and journeyed to Amiens, where Philip with abrilliant court awaited him, and on the appointed day they appearedtogether in the cathedral. Here Edward, under certain protestations, didhomage for his French estates, leaving certain terms and questions openfor the consideration of his council. For some time the matter remainedin this shape; but honest men cannot but admit that King Edward did, byhis action at the time, acknowledge Philip to be King of France, andthat he became his vassal for his estates there; but, as has happenedscores of times before, and will no doubt happen scores of times again,vassals, when they become powerful enough, throw off their allegiance totheir feudal superiors, and so the time came to King Edward.
"After the death of Mortimer and the imprisonment of Isabella, the kinggave rein to his taste for military sports. Tournaments were held atDartford and other places, one in Westcheape. What a sight was that, tobe sure! For three days the king, with fourteen of his knights, held thelist against all comers, and in the sight of the citizens and the ladiesof the court jousted with knights who came hither from all parts ofEurope. I was there each day, and the sight was a grand one, thoughEngland was well-nigh thrown into mourning by an accident which tookplace. The gallery in which the queen and her attendants were viewingthe sports had been badly erected, and in the height of the contests itgave way. The queen and her ladies were in great peril, being thrownfrom a considerable height, and a number of persons were severelyinjured. The king, who was furious at the danger to which the queen hadbeen exposed, would have hung upon the spot the master workman whosenegligence had caused the accident, but the queen went on her kneesbefore him and begged his life of the king. The love of Edward forwarlike exercises caused England to be regarded as the most chivalrouscourt in Europe, and the frequent tournaments aroused to the utmost thespirits of the people and prepared them for the war with France. But ofthe events of that war I will tell you some other night. It is time nowfor us to betake us to our beds."
