Unknown to History: A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland

by Charlotte M. Yonge

  CHAPTER XXXIX.

  THE FETTERLOCK COURT.

  People did not pity themselves so much for suspense when, instead ofreceiving an answer in less than an hour, they had to wait for it forweeks if not months. Mrs. Talbot might be anxious at Bridgefield, andher son at Fotheringhay, and poor Queen Mary, whose life hung in thebalance, more heartsick with what old writers well named 'wanhope' thanany of them; but they had to live on, and rise morning after morningwithout expecting any intelligence, unable to do anything but pray forthose who might be in perils unknown.

  After the strain and effort of her trial, Mary had become very ill, andkept her bed for many days. Humfrey continued to fulfil his dailyduties as commander of the guards set upon her, but he seldom saw orspoke with any of her attendants, as Sir Andrew Melville, whom he knewthe best of them, had on some suspicion been separated from hismistress and confined in another part of the Castle.

  Sir Amias Paulett, too, was sick with gout and anxiety, and was muchrelieved when Sir Drew Drury was sent to his assistance. The newwarder was a more courteous and easy-mannered person, and did not frethimself or the prisoner with precautions like his colleague; and on SirAmias's reiterated complaint that the guards were not numerous enough,he had brought down five fresh men, hired in London, fellows used toall sorts of weapons, and at home in military discipline; but, asHumfrey soon perceived, at home likewise in the license of camps, andmost incongruous companions for the simple village bumpkins, and theprecise retainers who had hitherto formed the garrison. He did hisbest to keep order, but marvelled how Sir Amias would view theirexcesses when he should come forth again from his sick chamber.

  The Queen was better, though still lame; and on a fine Novembernoontide she obtained, by earnest entreaty, permission to gratify herlonging for free air by taking a turn in what was called the FetterlockCourt, from the Yorkist badge of the falcon and fetterlock carvedprofusely on the decorations. This was the inmost strength of thecastle, on the highest ground, an octagon court, with the keep closingone side of it, and the others surrounded with huge massive walls,shutting in a greensward with a well. There was a broad commodiousterrace in the thickness of the walls, intended as a station whence thedefenders could shoot between the battlements, but in time of peaceforming a pleasant promenade sheltered from the wind, and catching onits northern side the meridian rays of this Martinmas summer day, sothat physician as well as jailer consented to permit the captive thereto take the air.

  "Some watch there must be," said Paulett anxiously, when his colleaguereported the consent he had given.

  "It will suffice, then," said Sir Drew Drury, "if the officer of theguard--Talbot call you him?--stands at the angle of the court, so as tokeep her in his view. He is a well-nurtured youth, and will not vexher."

  "Let him have the guard within call," said Paulett, and to this Druryassented, perhaps with a little amusement at the restless precautionsof the invalid.

  Accordingly, Humfrey took up his station, as unobtrusively as he could,at the corner of the terrace, and presently, through a doorway at theother end saw the Queen, hooded and cloaked, come forth, leaningheavily on the arm of Dr. Bourgoin, and attended by the two Maries andthe two elder ladies. She moved slowly, and paused every few steps,gazing round her, inhaling the fresh air and enjoying the sunshine, orspeaking a caressing word to little Bijou, who leaped about, andbarked, and whined with delight at having her out of doors again.There was a seat in the wall, and her ladies spread cushions and cloaksfor her to sit on it, warmed as it was by the sun; and there sherested, watching a starling running about on the turf, hisgold-bespangled green plumage glistening. She hardly spoke; she seemedto be making the most of the repose of the fair calm day. Humfrey wouldnot intrude by making her sensible of his presence, but he watched herfrom his station, wondering within himself if she cared for the perilto which she had exposed the daughter so dear to him.

  Such were his thoughts when an angry bark from Bijou warned him to beon the alert. A man--ay, one of the new men-at-arms--was springing upthe ramp leading to the summit of the wall almost immediately in frontof the little group. There was a gleam of steel in his hand. With onelong ringing whistle, Humfrey bounded from his place, and at the momentwhen the ruffian was on the point of assailing the Queen, he caught himwith one hand by the collar, with the other tried to master the armthat held the weapon. It was a sharp struggle, for the fellow was atrained soldier in the full strength of manhood, and Humfrey was ayouth of twenty-three, and unarmed. They went down together, rollingon the ground before Mary's chair; but in another moment Humfrey wasthe uppermost. He had his knee on the fellow's chest, and held aloft,though in a bleeding hand, the dagger wrenched from him. The victoryhad been won in a few seconds, before the two men, whom his whistle hadbrought, had time to rush forward. They were ready now to throwthemselves on the assailant. "Hold!" cried Humfrey, speaking for thefirst time. "Hurt him not! Hold him fast till I have him to SirAmias!"

  Each had an arm of the fallen man, and Humfrey rose to meet the eyes ofthe Queen sparkling, as she cried, "Bravely, bravely done, sir! Wethank you. Though it be but the poor remnant of a worthless life thatyou have saved, we thank you. The sight of your manhood has gladdenedus."

  Humfrey bowed low, and at the same time there was a cry among theladies that he was bleeding. It was only his hand, as he showed them.The dagger had been drawn across the palm before he could capture it.The kerchiefs were instantly brought forward to bind it up, Dr.Bourgoin saying that it ought to have Master Gorion's attention.

  "I may not wait for that, sir," said Humfrey. "I must carry thisvillain at once to Sir Amias and report on the affair."

  "Nay, but you will come again to be tended," said the Queen, while Dr.Bourgoin fastened the knot of the temporary bandage. "Ah! and is itHumfrey Talbot to whom I owe my life? There is one who will thank theefor it more than even I. But come back. Gorion must treat that hand,and then you will tell me what you have heard of her."

  "Naught, alas, madam," said Humfrey with an expressive shake of thehead, but ere he turned away Mary extended her hand to him, and as hebent his knee to kiss it she laid the other kindly on his dark curledhead and said, "God bless thee, brave youth."

  She was escorted to the door nearest to her apartments, and as she sankback on her day bed she could not help murmuring to Mary Seaton, "Abrave laddie. Would that he had one drop of princely blood."

  "The Talbot blood is not amiss," said the lady.

  "True; and were it but mine own Scottish royalty that were in questionI should see naught amiss, but with this English right that hath beenthe bane of us all, what can their love bring the poor children savewoe?"

  Meantime Humfrey was conducting his prisoner to Sir Amias Paulett. Theman was a bronzed, tough-looking ruffian, with an air of having seenservice, and a certain foreign touch in his accent. He glancedsomewhat contemptuously at his captor, and said; "Neatly done, sir; Imarvel if you'll get any thanks."

  "What mean you?" said Humfrey sharply, but the fellow only shrugged hisshoulders. The whole affair had been so noiseless, that Humfreybrought the first intelligence when he was admitted to the sickchamber, where Sir Amias sat in a large chair by the fire. He had lefthis prisoner guarded by two men at the door. "How now! What is it?"cried Paulett at first sight of his bandaged hand. "Is she safe?"

  "Even so, sir, and untouched," said Humfrey.

  "Thanks be to God!" he exclaimed. "This is what I feared. Who was it?"

  "One of the new men-at-arms from London--Peter Pierson he calledhimself, and said he had served in the Netherlands."

  And after a few further words of explanation, Humfrey called in theprisoner and his guards, and before his face gave an account of hisattempt upon the helpless Queen.

  "Godless and murderous villain!" said Paulett, "what hast thou to sayfor thyself that I should not hang thee from the highest tower?"

  "Naught that will hinder you, worshipful seignior," returned the manwith a sneer. "In
sooth I see no great odds between taking life with adagger and with an axe, save that fewer folk are regaled with thespectacle."

  "Wretch," said Paulett, "wouldst thou confound private murder with theopen judgment of God and man?"

  "Judgment hath been pronounced," said the fellow, "but it needs not todispute the matter. Only if this honest youth had not come blunderingin and cut his fingers in the fray, your captive would have beenquietly rid of all her troubles, and I should have had my reward fromcertain great folk you wot of. Ay," as Sir Amias turned stillyellower, "you take my meaning, sir."

  "Take him away," said Paulett, collecting himself; "he would cloak hiscrime by accusing others of his desperate wickedness."

  "Where, sir?" inquired Humfrey.

  Sir Amias would have preferred hanging the fellow without inquiry, butas Fotheringhay was not under martial law, he ordered him off to thedungeons for the present, while the nearest justice of the peace wassent for. The knight bade Humfrey remain while the prisoner was walkedoff under due guard, and made a few more inquiries, adding, with asigh, "You must double the guard, Master Talbot, and get rid of allthose London rogues--sons of Belial are they all, and I'll have nonefor whom I cannot answer--for I fear me 'tis all too true what thefellow says."

  "Who would set him on?"

  "That I may not say. But would you believe it, Humfrey Talbot, I havebeen blamed--ay, rated like a hound, for that I will not lend myself toa privy murder."

  "Verily, sir?"

  "Verily, and indeed, young man. 'Tis the part of a loyal subject, theysay, to spare her Majesty's womanish feelings and her hatred ofbloodshed, and this lady having been condemned, to take her offsecretly so as to save the Queen the pain and heart-searchings ofsigning the warrant. You credit me not, sir, but I have the letter--tomy sorrow and shame."

  No wonder that the poor, precise, hard-hearted, but religious andhigh-principled man was laid up with a fit of the gout, after receivingthe shameful letter which he described, which is still extant, signedby Walsingham and Davison.

  "Strange loyalty," said Humfrey.

  "And too much after the Spanish sort for an English Protestant," saidSir Amias. "I made answer that I would lay down my life to guard thisunhappy woman to undergo the justice that is to be done upon her, butmurder her, or allow her to be slain in my hands, I neither can norwill, so help me Heaven, as a true though sinful man."

  "Amen," said Humfrey.

  "And no small cause of thanks have I that in you, young sir, I have onewho may be trusted for faith as well as courage, and I need not saydiscretion."

  As he spoke, Sir Drew Drury, who had been out riding, returned, anxiousto hear the details of this strange event. Sir Amias could not leavehis room. Sir Drew accompanied Humfrey to the Queen's apartments tohear her account and that of her attendants. It was given with praisesof the young gentleman which put him to the blush, and Sir Drew thengave permission for his hurt to be treated by Maitre Gorion, and lefthim in the antechamber for the purpose.

  Sir Amias would perhaps have done more wisely if he had not detainedHumfrey from seeing the criminal guarded to his prison. For Sir DrewDrury, going from the Queen's presence to interrogate the fellow beforesending for a magistrate, found the cell empty. It had been the turnof duty of one of the new London men-at-arms, and he had been placed assentry at the door by the sergeant--the stupidest and trustiest offellows--who stood gaping in utter amazement when he found that sentryand prisoner were both alike missing.

  On the whole, the two warders agreed that it would be wiser to hush upthe matter. When Mary heard that the man had escaped, she quietlysaid, "I understand. They know how to do such things better abroad."

  Things returned to their usual state except that Humfrey had permissionto go daily to have his hand attended to by M. Gorion, and the Queennever let pass this opportunity of speaking to him, though the veryfirst time she ascertained that he knew as little as she did of theproceedings of his father and Cicely.

  Now, for the first time, did Humfrey understand the charm that hadcaptivated Babington, and that even his father confessed. Ailing,aging, and suffering as she was, and in daily expectation of hersentence of death, there was still something more wonderfully winningabout her, a sweet pathetic cheerfulness, kindness, and resignation,that filled his heart with devotion to her. And then she spoke ofCicely, the rarest and greatest delight that he could enjoy. Sheevidently regarded him with favour, if not affection, because he lovedthe maiden whom she could not but deny to him. Would he not doanything for her? Ay, anything consistent with duty. And there came atwinge which startled him. Was she making him value duty less? Never.Besides, how few days he could see her. His hand was healing all toofast, and what might not come any day from London? Was Queen Mary'slast conquest to be that of Humfrey Talbot?