_CHAPTER XVII_
_The Elopement_
Whatever the king might think, I knew Lord Wolsey would quickly enoughguess the truth when he heard that the princess was missing, and wouldhave a party in pursuit. The runaways, however, would have at leasttwenty-four hours the start, and a ship leaves no tracks. When Maryleft me she was perhaps two-thirds of a league from the rendezvous,and night was rapidly falling. As her road lay through a dense forestall the way, she would have a dark, lonely ride of a few minutes, andI was somewhat uneasy for that part of the journey. It had been agreedthat if everything was all right at the rendezvous, Mary should turnloose her horse, which had always been stabled at Berkeley Castle andwould quickly trot home. To further emphasize her safety a threadwould be tied in his forelock. The horse took his time in returning,and did not arrive until the second morning after the flight, but whenhe came I found the thread, and, unobserved, removed it. I quicklytook it to Jane, who has it yet, and cherishes it for the mute messageof comfort it brought her. In case the horse should not return, I wasto find a token in a hollow tree near the place of meeting; but thethread in the forelock told us our friends had found each other.
When we left the castle, Mary wore under her riding habit a suit ofman's attire, and, as we rode along, she would shrug her shoulders andlaugh as if it were a huge joke; and by the most comical littlepantomime, call my attention to her unusual bulk. So when she foundBrandon, the only change necessary to make a man of her was to throwoff the riding habit and pull on the jack-boots and slouch hat, bothof which Brandon had with him.
They wasted no time you may be sure, and were soon under way. In a fewminutes they picked up the two Bristol men who were to accompany them,and, when night had fairly fallen, left the by-paths and took to themain road leading from London to Bath and Bristol. The road was a fairone; that is, it was well defined and there was no danger of losingit; in fact, there was more danger of losing one's self in itsfathomless mud-holes and quagmires. Brandon had recently passed overit twice, and had made mental note of the worst places, so he hoped toavoid them.
Soon the rain began to fall in a soaking drizzle; then the lamps oftwilight went out, and even the shadows of the night were lost amongthemselves in blinding darkness. It was one of those black nights fitfor witch traveling; and, no doubt, every witch in England was outbrewing mischief. The horses' hoofs sucked and splashed in the mudwith a sound that Mary thought might be heard at Land's End; and thehoot of an owl, now and then disturbed by a witch, would strike uponher ear with a volume of sound infinitely disproportionate to the sizeof any owl she had ever seen or dreamed of before.
Brandon wore our cushion, the great cloak, and had provided a like oneof suitable proportions for the princess. This came in good play, asher fine gentleman's attire would be but poor stuff to turn the water.The wind, which had arisen with just enough force to set up a dismalwail, gave the rain a horizontal slant and drove it in at everyopening. The flaps of the comfortable great cloak blew back fromMary's knees, and she felt many a chilling drop through her fine newsilk trunks that made her wish for buckram in their place. Soon thewater began to trickle down her legs and find lodgment in thejack-boots, and as the rain and wind came in tremulous little whirs,she felt wretched enough--she who had always been so well shelteredfrom every blast. Now and then mud and water would fly up into herface--striking usually in the eyes or mouth--and then again her horsewould stumble and almost throw her over his head, as he sank, kneedeep, into some unexpected hole. All of this, with the thousand andone noises that broke the still worse silence of the inky night soonbegan to work upon her nerves and make her fearful. The road was fullof dangers aside from stumbling horses and broken necks, for manywere the stories of murder and robbery committed along the route theywere traveling. It is true they had two stout men, and all were armed,yet they might easily come upon a party too strong for them; and noone could tell what might happen, thought the princess. There was thatpitchy darkness through which she could hardly see her horse's head--athing of itself that seemed to have infinite powers for mischief, andwhich no amount of argument ever induced any normally constitutedwoman to believe was the mere negative absence of light, and not aterrible entity potent for all sorts of mischief. Then that wailinghowl that rose and fell betimes; no wind ever made such a noise shefelt sure. There were those shining white gleams which came from thelittle pools of water on the road, looking like dead men's facesupturned and pale; perhaps they were water and perhaps they were not.Mary had all confidence in Brandon, but that very fact operatedagainst her. Having that confidence and trust in him, she felt no needto waste her own energy in being brave; so she relaxed completely, andhad the feminine satisfaction of allowing herself to be thoroughlyfrightened.
Is it any wonder Mary's gallant but womanly spirit sank low in theface of all those terrors? She held out bravely, however, and anoccasional clasp from Brandon's hand under cover of the darknesscomforted her. When all those terrors would not suggest even athought of turning back, you may judge of the character of this girland her motive.
They traveled on, galloping when they could, trotting when they couldnot gallop, and walking when they must.
At one time they thought they heard the sound of following horses, andhastened on as fast as they dared go, until, stopping to listen andhearing nothing, they concluded they were wrong. About eleven o'clock,however, right out of the black bank of night in front of them theyheard, in earnest, the sucking splash of horses' hoofs. In an instantthe sound ceased and the silence was worse than the noise. The cry"Hollo!" brought them all to a stand, and Mary thought her time hadcome.
Both sides shouted, "Who comes there?" to which there was asimultaneous and eager answer, "A friend," and each party passed itsown way, only too glad to be rid of the other. Mary's sigh of reliefcould be heard above even the wind and the owls, and her heart beat asif it had a task to finish within a certain time.
After this they rode on as rapidly as they dared, and about midnightarrived at the inn where the relay of horses was awaiting them.
The inn was a rambling old thatched-roofed structure, half mud, halfwood, and all filth. There are many inns in England that are tidyenough, but this one was a little off the main road--selected for thatreason--and the uncleanness was not the least of Mary's trials thathard night. She had not tasted food since noon, and felt the keenhunger natural to youth and health such as hers, after twelve hours offasting and eight hours of riding. Her appetite soon overcame herrepugnance, and she ate, with a zest that was new to her, the humblestfare that had ever passed her lips. One often misses the zest oflife's joys by having too much of them. One must want a thing beforeit can be appreciated.
A hard ride of five hours brought our travelers to Bath, which placethey rode around just as the sun began to gild the tile roofs andsteeples, and another hour brought them to Bristol.
The ship was to sail at sunrise, but as the wind had died out with thenight, there was no danger of its sailing without them. Soon the gatesopened, and the party rode to the Bow and String, where Brandon hadleft their chests. The men were then paid off; quick sale was made ofthe horses; breakfast was served, and they started for the wharf, withtheir chests following in the hands of four porters.
A boat soon took them aboard the Royal Hind, and now it looked as iftheir daring scheme, so full of improbability as to seem impossible,had really come to a successful issue.
From the beginning, I think, it had never occurred to Mary to doubtthe result. There had never been with her even a suggestion ofpossible failure, unless it was that evening in our room, when,prompted by her startled modesty, she had said she could not bear forus to see her in the trunk hose. Now that fruition seemed about tocrown her hopes she was happy to her heart's core; and when once toherself wept for sheer joy. It is little wonder she was happy. She wasleaving behind no one whom she loved excepting Jane, and perhaps, me.No father nor mother; only a sister whom she barely knew, and abrother whose treatment of her had turned
her heart against him. Shewas also fleeing with the one man in all the world for her, and from amarriage that was literally worse than death.
Brandon, on the other hand, had always had more desire than hope. Themany chances against success had forced upon him a haunting sense ofcertain failure, which, one would think, should have left him now. Itdid not, however, and even when on shipboard, with a score of men atthe windlass ready to heave anchor at the first breath of wind, it wasas strong as when Mary first proposed their flight, sitting in thewindow on his great cloak. Such were their opposite positions. Bothwere without doubt, but with this difference; Mary had never doubtedsuccess; Brandon never doubted failure. He had a keen analyticalfaculty that gave him truthfully the chances for and against, and, inthis case, they were overwhelmingly unfavorable. Such hope as he hadbeen able to distil out of his desire was sadly dampened by anever-present premonition of failure, which he could not entirelythrow off. Too keen an insight for the truth often stands in a man'sway, and too clear a view of an overwhelming obstacle is apt toparalyze effort. Hope must always be behind a hearty endeavor.
Our travelers were, of course, greatly in need of rest; so Mary wentto her room, and Brandon took a berth in the cabin set apart for thegentlemen.
They had both paid for their passage, although they had enlisted andwere part of the ship's company. They were not expected to do sailor'swork, but would be called upon in case of fighting to do their part atthat. Mary was probably as good a fighter, in her own way, as onecould find in a long journey, but how she was to do her part withsword and buckler Brandon did not know. That, however, was a bridge tobe crossed when they should come to it.
They had gone aboard about seven o'clock, and Brandon hoped the shipwould be well down Bristol channel before he should leave his berth.But the wind that had filled Mary's jack-boots with rain and hadhowled so dismally all night long would not stir, now that it waswanted. Noon came, yet no wind, and the sun shone as placidly as ifCaptain Charles Brandon were not fuming with impatience on the poop ofthe Royal Hind. Three o'clock and no wind. The captain said it wouldcome with night, but sundown was almost at hand and no wind yet.Brandon knew this meant failure if it held a little longer, for hewas certain the king, with Wolsey's help, would long since haveguessed the truth.
Brandon had not seen the princess since morning, and the delicacy hefelt about going to her cabin made the situation somewhat difficult.After putting it off from hour to hour in hope that she would appearof her own accord, he at last knocked at her door, and, of course,found the lady in trouble.
The thought of the princess going on deck caused a sinking at hisheart every time it came, as he felt that it was almost impossible toconceal her identity. He had not seen her in her new male attire, forwhen she threw off her riding habit on meeting him the night before,he had intentionally busied himself about the horses, and saw her onlyafter the great cloak covered her as a gown. He felt that however wellher garments might conceal her form, no man on earth ever had suchbeauty in his face as her transcendent eyes, rose-tinted cheeks, andcoral lips, with their cluster of dimples; and his heart sank at theprospect. She might hold out for a while with a straight face, butwhen the smiles should come--it were just as well to hang a placardabout her neck: "This is a woman." The tell-tale dimples would beworse than Jane for outspoken, untimely truthfulness andtrouble-provoking candor.
Upon entering, Brandon found Mary wrestling with the problem of hercomplicated male attire; the most beautiful picture of puzzleddistress imaginable. The port was open and showed her rosy as the mornwhen she looked up at him. The jack-boots were in a corner, and herlittle feet seemed to put up a protest all their own, against goinginto them, that ought to have softened every peg. She looked up atBrandon with a half-hearted smile, and then threw her arms about hisneck and sobbed like the child that she was.
"Do you regret coming, Lady Mary?" asked Brandon, who, now that shewas alone with him, felt that he must take no advantage of the fact tobe familiar.
"No! no! not for one moment; I am glad--only too glad. But why do youcall me 'Lady'? You used to call me 'Mary.'"
"I don't know; perhaps because you are alone."
"Ah! that is good of you; but you need not be quite so respectful."
The matter was settled by mute but satisfactory arbitration, andBrandon continued: "You must make yourself ready to go on deck. Itwill be hard, but it must be done."
He helped her with the heavy jack-boots and handed her therain-stained slouch hat which she put on, and stood a complete manready for the deck--that is, as complete as could be evolved from herutter femininity.
When Brandon looked her over, all hope went out of him. It seemed thatevery change of dress only added to her bewitching beauty by showingit in a new phase.
"It will never do; there is no disguising you. What is it that despiteeverything shows so unmistakably feminine? What shall we do? I haveit; you shall remain here under the pretense of illness until we arewell at sea, and then I will tell the captain all. It is too bad; andyet I would not have you one whit less a woman for all the world. Aman loves a woman who is so thoroughly womanly that nothing can hideit."
Mary was pleased at his flattery, but disappointed at the failure inherself. She had thought that surely these garments would make a manof her in which the keenest eye could not detect a flaw.
They were discussing the matter when a knock came at the door with thecry, "All hands on deck for inspection." Inspection! Jesu! Mary wouldnot safely endure it a minute. Brandon left her at once and went tothe captain.
"My lord is ill, and begs to be excused from deck inspection," hesaid.
Bradhurst, a surly old half pirate of the saltiest pattern, answered:"Ill? Then he had better go ashore as soon as possible. I will refundhis money. We cannot make a hospital out of the ship. If his lordshipis too ill to stand inspection, see that he goes ashore at once."
This last was addressed to one of the ship's officers, who answeredwith the usual "Aye, aye, sir," and started for Mary's cabin.
That was worse than ever; and Brandon quickly said he would have hislordship up at once. He then returned to Mary, and after buckling onher sword and belt they went on deck and climbed up the poop ladder totake their places with those entitled to stand aft.
Brandon has often told me since that it was as much as he could do tokeep back the tears when he saw Mary's wonderful effort to appearmanly. It was both comical and pathetic. She was a princess to whomall the world bowed down, yet that did not help her here. After allshe was only a girl, timid and fearful, following at Brandon's heels;frightened lest she should get out of arm's reach of him among thoserough men, and longing with all her heart to take his hand for moralas well as physical support. It must have been both laughable andpathetic in the extreme. That miserable sword persisted in trippingher, and the jack-boots, so much too large, evinced an alarmingtendency to slip off with every step. How insane we all were not tohave foreseen this from the very beginning. It must have been a uniquefigure she presented climbing up the steps at Brandon's heels,jack-boots and all. So unique was it that the sailors working in theship's waist stopped their tasks to stare in wonderment, and thegentlemen on the poop made no effort to hide their amusement. OldBradhurst stepped up to her.
"I hope your lordship is feeling better;" and then, surveying her fromhead to foot, with a broad grin on his features, "I declare, you lookthe picture of health, if I ever saw it. How old are you?"
Mary quickly responded, "Fourteen years."
"Fourteen," returned Bradhurst: "well, I don't think you will shedmuch blood. You look more like a deuced handsome girl than any man Iever saw." At this the men all laughed, and were very impertinent inthe free and easy manner of such gentry, most of whom wereprofessional adventurers, with every finer sense dulled and debased byyears of vice.
These fellows, half of them tipsy, now gathered about Mary to inspecther personally, each on his own account. Their looks and conduct werevery disconcerting, but they did
nothing insulting until one fellowgave her a slap on the back, accompanying it by an indecent remark.Brandon tried to pay no attention to them, but this was too much, sohe lifted his arm and knocked the fellow off the poop into the waist.The man was back in a moment, and swords were soon drawn and clickingaway at a great rate. The contest was brief, however, as the fellowwas no sort of match for Brandon, who, with his old trick, quicklytwisted his adversary's sword out of his grasp, and with a flash ofhis own blade flung it into the sea. The other men were now talkingtogether at a little distance in whispers, and in a moment one drunkenbrute shouted: "It is no man; it is a woman; let us see more of her."
Before Brandon could interfere, the fellow had unbuckled Mary'sdoublet at the throat, and with a jerk, had torn it half off, carryingaway the sleeve and exposing Mary's shoulder, almost throwing her tothe deck.
He waved his trophy on high, but his triumph was short-lived, foralmost instantly it fell to the deck, and with it the offending handsevered at the wrist by Brandon's sword. Three or four friends of thewounded man rushed upon Brandon; whereupon Mary screamed and began toweep, which of course told the whole story.
A great laugh went up, and instantly a general fight began. Several ofthe gentlemen, seeing Brandon attacked by such odds, took up hisdefense, and within twenty seconds all were on one side or the other,every mother's son of them fighting away like mad.
You see how quickly and completely one woman without the slightest acton her part, except a modest effort to be let alone, had set the wholecompany by the ears, cutting and slashing away at each other like verydevils. The sex must generate mischief in some unknown manner, andthrow it off, as the sun throws off its heat. However, Jane is anexception to that rule--if it is a rule.
The officers soon put a stop to this lively little fight, and tookBrandon and Mary, who was weeping as any right-minded woman would,down into the cabin for consultation.
With a great oath Bradhurst exclaimed: "It is plain enough that youhave brought a girl on board under false colors, and you may as wellmake ready to put her ashore. You see what she has already done--ahand lost to one man and wounds for twenty others--and she was on deckless than five minutes. Heart of God! At that rate she would have theship at the bottom of Davy Jones's locker before we could sail halfdown the channel."
"It was not my fault," sobbed Mary, her eyes flashing fire; "I didnothing; all I wanted was to be left alone; but those brutes ofmen--you shall pay for this; remember what I say. Did you expectCaptain Brandon to stand back and not defend me, when that wretch wastearing my garments off?"
"Captain Brandon, did you say?" asked Bradhurst, with his hat offinstantly.
"Yes," answered that individual. "I shipped under an assumed name, forvarious reasons, and desire not to be known. You will do well to keepmy secret."
"Do I understand that you are Master Charles Brandon, the king'sfriend?" asked Bradhurst.
"I am," was the answer.
"Then, sir, I must ask your pardon for the way you have been treated.We, of course, could not know it, but a man must expect trouble whenhe attaches himself to a woman." It is a wonder the flashes fromMary's eyes did not strike the old sea-dog dead. He, however, did notsee them, and went on: "We are more than anxious that so valiant aknight as Sir Charles Brandon should go with us, and hope yourreception will not drive you back, but as to the lady--you see alreadythe result of her presence, and much as we want you, we cannot takeher. Aside from the general trouble which a woman takes with hereverywhere"--Mary would not even look at the creature--"on shipboardthere is another and greater objection. It is said, you know, amongsailors, that a woman on board draws bad luck to certain sorts ofships, and every sailor would desert, before we could weigh anchor, ifit were known this lady was to go with us. Should they find it out inmid-ocean, a mutiny would be sure to follow, and God only knows whatwould happen. For her sake, if for no other reason, take her ashore atonce."
Brandon saw only too plainly the truth that he had really seen all thetime, but to which he had shut his eyes, and throwing Mary's cloakover her shoulders, prepared to go ashore. As they went over the sideand pulled off, a great shout went up from the ship far more derisivethan cheering, and the men at the oars looked at each other askanceand smiled. What a predicament for a princess! Brandon cursed himselffor having been such a knave and fool as to allow this to happen. Hehad known the danger all the time, and his act could not bechargeable to ignorance or a failure to see the probable consequences.Temptation, and selfish desire, had given him temerity in place ofjudgment. He had attempted what none but an insane man would havetried, without even the pitiable excuse of insanity. He had seen itall only too clearly from the very beginning, and he had deliberatelyand with open eyes brought disgrace, ruin, and death--unless he couldescape--upon himself, and utter humiliation to her whom his loveshould have prompted him to save at all cost. If Mary could only havedisguised herself to look like a man they might have succeeded, butthat little "if" was larger than Paul's church, and blocked the roadas completely as if it had been a word of twenty syllables.
When the princess stepped ashore it seemed to her as if the heart inher breast was a different and separate organ from the one she hadcarried aboard.
As the boat put off again for the ship, its crew gave a cheer coupledwith some vile advice, for which Brandon would gladly have run themthrough, each and every one. He had to swallow his chagrin and anger,and really blamed no one but himself, though it was torture to himthat this girl should be subjected to such insults, and he powerlessto avenge them. The news had spread from the wharf like wildfire, andon their way back to the Bow and String, there came from small boysand hidden voices such exclamations as: "Look at the woman in man'sclothing;" "Isn't he a beautiful man?" "Look at him blush;" and otherstoo coarse to be repeated. Imagine the humiliating situation, fromwhich there was no escape.
At last they reached the inn, whither their chests soon followed them,sent by Bradhurst, together with their passage money, which he veryhonestly refunded.
Mary soon donned her woman's attire, of which she had a supply in herchest, and at least felt more comfortable without the jack-boots. Shehad made her toilet alone for the first time in her life, having nomaid to help her, and wept as she dressed, for this disappointment waslike plucking the very heart out of her. Her hope had been so highthat the fall was all the harder. Nay, even more; hope had becomefruition to her when they were once a-shipboard, and failure right atthe door of success made it doubly hard to bear. It crushed her, and,where before had been hope and confidence, was nothing now butdespair. Like all people with a great capacity for elation, when shesank she touched the bottom. Alas! Mary, the unconquerable, was downat last.
This failure meant so much to her; it meant that she would never beBrandon's wife, but would go to France to endure the dreaded oldFrenchman. At that thought a recoil came. Her spirit asserted itself,and she stamped her foot and swore upon her soul it should never be;never! never! so long as she had strength to fight or voice to cry,"No." The thought of this marriage and of the loss of Brandon waspainful enough, but there came another, entirely new to her andinfinitely worse.
Hastily arranging her dress, she went in search of Brandon, whom shequickly found and took to her room.
After closing the door she said: "I thought I had reached the pinnacleof disappointment and pain when compelled to leave the ship, for itmeant that I should lose you and have to marry Louis of France. But Ihave found that there is still a possible pain more poignant thaneither, and I cannot bear it; so I come to you--you who are the greatcure for all my troubles. Oh! that I could lay them here all my lifelong," and she put her head upon his breast, forgetting what she hadintended to say.
"What is the trouble, Mary?"
"Oh! yes! I thought of that marriage and of losing you, and then, oh!Mary Mother! I thought of some other woman having you to herself. Icould see her with you, and I was jealous--I think they call it. Ihave heard of the pangs of jealousy, and if the fear of
a rival is sogreat what would the reality be? It would kill me; I could not endureit. I cannot endure even this, and I want you to swear that----"
Brandon took her in his arms as she began to weep.
"I will gladly swear by everything I hold sacred that no other womanthan you shall ever be my wife. If I cannot have you, be sure you havespoiled every other woman for me. There is but one in all theworld--but one. I can at least save you that pain."
She then stood on tip-toes to lift her lips to him, and said: "I giveyou the same promise. How you must have suffered when you thought Iwas to wed another."
After a pause she went on: "But it might have been worse--that is, itwould be worse if you should marry some other woman; but that is allsettled now and I feel easier. Then I might have married the oldFrench king, but that, too, is settled; and we can endure the lesserpain. It always helps us when we are able to think it might have beenworse."
Her unquestioning faith in Brandon was beautiful, and she neverdoubted that he spoke the unalterable truth when he said he wouldnever marry any other woman. She had faith in herself, too, and wasconfident that her promise to marry no man but Brandon ended thatimportant matter likewise, and put the French marriage totally out ofthe question for all time to come.
As for Brandon, he was safe enough in his part of the contract. Heknew only too well that no woman could approach Mary in her inimitableperfections, and he had tested his love closely enough, in hisstruggle against it, to feel that it had taken up its abode in hisheart to stay, whether he wanted it or not. He knew that he was safein making her a promise which he was powerless to break. All this hefully explained to Mary, as they sat looking out of the window at thedreary rain which had come on again with the gathering gloom of night.
Brandon did not tell her that his faith in her ultimate ability tokeep her promise was as small as it was great in his own. Neither didhe dampen her spirits by telling her that there was a reason, outsideof himself, which in all probability would help him in keeping hisword, and save her from the pangs of that jealousy she so much feared;namely, that he would most certainly wed the block and ax should theking get possession of him. He might have escaped from England in theRoyal Hind, for the wind had come up shortly after they left the ship,and they could see the sails indistinctly through the gloom as she gotunder way. But he could not leave Mary alone, and had made up his mindto take her back to London and march straight into the jaws of deathwith her, if the king's men did not soon come.
He knew that a debt to folly bears no grace, and was ready with hisprincipal and usance.
When Knighthood Was in Flower Page 20
