_PLOTS._
At the sound of Alys's cry Amalric and his sister turned quickly round,
and the next moment a startled exclamation broke from young De Montfort.
"Leofric! is this truly thyself? or do we see thy ghost?"
Trembling in every limb, scarce able to separate the real from the
unreal, Alys turned round to see that Amalric was grasping the hands of
some person who had just opened the little door in the alcove, which was
opposite the dusky mirror, and it dawned upon her that it was no phantom
face she had seen, nor yet the freak of a disordered fancy; but that
Leofric Wyvill was at Kenilworth, and standing within a few feet of her.
Yet for the moment he appeared not even aware of her presence. He was
speaking with Amalric in low, constrained tones.
"Say only that I am not too late. The Earl, thy father, how is it with
him?"
"Why, well," answered Amalric, in amaze; "thou canst see him below thine
own self. Something aged and worn he is by the cares which press upon
him; but for the rest, well. What do thy words portend, good friend?"
"Have any mummers arrived of late at the Castle--mummers from foreign
parts?" asked Leofric, still speaking hastily and urgently. "They were
to be heard by New-Year's Eve. Has anything been seen of them?"
"I have heard naught," answered Amalric, "There be comers and goers all
day long at such a season, and open house is kept for all who ask it at
Christmas. But of foreign mummers I have heard no word. Come, speak to
us more plainly. What dost thou mean? and what brings thee here in such
breathless haste, looking more like a ghost than a man?"
"In sooth I have travelled something hard," answered Leofric, who was
travel-stained and pale with weariness and lack of sleep. "But mine
errand brooked no delay. There is a plot on hand to poison the Earl, thy
father; and they who are the tools are sent hither in the guise of
mummers--for all I know they may be mummers and jugglers by trade. But
they come hither with fell intent, and are paid by the Queen for their
crime."
"The Queen!" cried the Demoiselle in horror--"our kinswoman whose bread
we have eaten! Would she plan such wickedness against my father?"
"That is the news that Gilbert Barbeck brought post-haste to Oxford. His
father got wind of it through some of his sailors plying 'twixt here and
France. You know, perchance, how the Queen and her son Edmund are trying
by every means in their power to collect and land an army in England
for the rescue of the King. Contrary winds and other troubles have
baffled them hitherto, and now they are wellnigh desperate. It is
supposed the idea has been proposed to the Queen that to rid the realm
of the great Earl would secure her husband's liberty. Or perhaps it is
some other person who has conceived it, and gives out that it is by the
wish of the Queen. But however that may be, it is said of a certainty
that a party of foreign mummers has started for Kenilworth, and that
they are armed with a deadly draught, which is to be administered to the
Earl ere they leave."
"And thou hast travelled all this way with the news?"
"It seemed the best thing to do," answered Leofric. "I knew the way.
Gilbert was already worn and weary with his ride from the south. And
both secrecy and dispatch were needed. My pupils had many of them
dispersed for the time being, and I was able to leave. I could not rest
till I knew the rights of the matter, and whether in truth the evil deed
had been accomplished."
At that very moment the doors of the great hall were flung wide open,
and amid the plaudits of the company there rushed in a motley crew of
strange-looking creatures, some disguised as gigantic beasts and birds,
some in motley, like fools, with jingling bells, all wearing masks, and
all capering about with antics and contortions, exciting outrageous
laughter from the already hilarious company.
The leading figure was not bedizened like his troop, but wore a sombre
black dress, which flowed round him in ample folds. His mask was black,
and nothing of his face could be seen save a pair of shining black
eyes. He uttered strange cries and calls, which were responded to by his
troop, who varied the figures of their strange dance, and made
picturesque groups and combinations as they moved about in the only open
space in the hall, where the tables had been hastily thrust aside to
give them room for their gambols.
Some of these creatures were jugglers, and performed feats of dexterity
and sleight of hand which provoked shouts of wonder and admiration.
Meantime, prompted evidently by the black-robed director, some of the
servants had brought in a small table covered with a black cloth, and
when this cloth was removed, the eager eyes of the onlookers fell upon
certain strange-looking objects which caused many of them to exclaim,--
"He is an astrologer, and he will tell our horoscopes!"
At the same moment several of the strange-looking dancers whirled out of
the hall, and came in again leading with care and reverence a
white-robed, white-veiled figure, who came and stood beside the table,
but rigid and still, as though hardly endowed with life.
At sight of that figure Alys gave a sudden start, and exclaimed in a
low, frightened voice,--
"Pray Heaven that be not Linda! It is just her figure and her carriage!
Oh, surely that magician cannot be Tito, and he have gotten possession
of Linda for his evil practices!"
Leofric started, and gazed at the speaker with earnest eyes.
"It cannot be Linda; she was safe in Oxford when I left. But she told me
that Lotta had lately disappeared, they knew not whither; only their
brother Tito had once been seen lurking near the city, and it was
thought he had perhaps come for his books and the instruments by which
he wrought his unholy trade. Lotta had had the care of them since his
departure, and had grown very strange. It may be that she has cast in
her lot with him. But can that in truth be he?"
"He would sell his soul for gold," spoke Amalric between his shut teeth.
"But he has put his head into the lion's den at last. If he has designs
upon my father's life, we have a gallows on the wall whereon he shall
pay the penalty of his sin."
"Methinks these mummers are no part of his real company," said Leofric.
"Probably he has joined himself to them, and given them something to win
him his entrance hither. But let us watch what he is doing. We must not
let any devilry of his go unobserved."
"Nay, we will seek to catch him red-handed in the act!" hissed Amalric;
"and methinks I will go below, the better to guard my father from his
crafty wiliness."
The wizard, as he now openly declared himself to be, was busy practising
the smaller arts of his calling upon the credulous, with results which
appeared to them to be marvellous. But not content with that for long,
he called upon the great ones of the company to come and hear what the
future held for them--to look into the crystal, or into the magic
mirror, and to ask of the white-robed vestal such things as they desired
to hear.
Each person thus coming forward received from the veiled woman a cup
containing water from a sacred well; this cup he drained, placed within
it a piece of money, returned it to the vestal with a whispered
question, and then, looking in the mirror or crystal, awaited either a
reply from her lips or an image forming itself there.
It seemed as though the questioners heard or saw enough to mystify them,
if not entirely to satisfy their curiosity, and there was quite a crowd
around the recess where the wizard had established himself; whilst from
time to time he called aloud on one or another of the company by name to
approach and test his magic.
It was thus that the Prince and the Earl presently approached the table,
partly from curiosity, partly from a sense of semi-superstitious belief
in the power of these so-called magicians to read the future.
"Shall we try our fate?" asked the Prince, and he stretched out his hand
for the cup.
It was given into his hands with some whispered words which brought a
sudden flush into his face. He drained the cup, spoke a few words, and
then came away with a strange expression in his glowing eyes.
"There is a spice of witchcraft about it," he said, with a laugh which
was not perhaps quite natural; and he retired to the far end of the
hall, grasping tightly in his hand a small fragment of paper which had
been slipped into it, he scarce knew how or by whom.
The Earl had followed the example of his illustrious prisoner, his son
Amalric keeping close at his side. He, too, took the cup from the hand
of the maid; but ere he could lift it to his lips, Amalric cried out,--
"Have a care, sir; that cup is poisoned! Let the magician be seized till
this thing has been inquired into!"
In a moment all was confusion and affright. The magician made a bound,
as though to flee before hands could be laid upon him; but he was held
by a dozen pairs of strong arms. He broke then into frantic pleadings
and excuses; but no word was addressed to him until the draught intended
for the Earl had been forced down the throat of a dog, which almost
immediately was racked with violent convulsions, and died within fifteen
minutes.
Sternly and with black brow did the Earl and his attendants look on. It
was so easy to see what had been planned. The inquirer would have asked
some question as to the future, would have received some terrible
prophecy, and when this attack took him, those who stood by would think
it an access of fear at what he had heard; and in the confusion the
magician and his accomplices would effect an escape, even if suspicion
did light upon them.
"How didst thou know this thing?" asked the Earl of his son; and Leofric
was brought forward to tell his tale. A cry of rage and execration went
up from the crowd as they listened. The terrified mummers, who knew
nothing of the plot, slunk away and hid themselves in any dark corners
they could find. No one heeded them, all eyes being fixed upon the
magician himself; and when his mask was plucked from his face, it
revealed the white, scared countenance of Tito Balzani.
In vain he pleaded his innocence, and implored mercy. There was no mercy
in the stern faces around him. Even Prince Edward, in whose favour the
intended crime was supposed to have been planned, came forward with
wrath in his eyes, and desired the death of the miscreant.
"He dares to say that my mother was the instigator of the crime!" he
cried. "Let him hang from the highest battlements for that foul lie!
Some evil-disposed person, thinking to do us service, may have planned
this hideous deed; but my mother--never! Let him die the death of a
perjured traitor!"
"But my sister--who will care for my sister? She at least must not
suffer for my sin!" wailed the hapless man. "It is Roger de Horn who
ought to hang. It was he who showed me the gold, and tempted me to my
ruin. But he ever escapes, and leaves me to bear the punishment. Let the
woods be scoured for him, and I refuse not to die if he die too. But let
him not escape. And, I beseech you, save my sister; for if she knew--the
deed was none of hers."
"The maid shall not suffer; her sex shall be her safeguard," answered De
Montfort sternly. "And as for that miscreant, whose name I have heard
before now, search shall be made for him, and he shall suffer the fate
he merits. Assassins and their accomplices find no mercy at
Kenilworth.--Guard him well, men, and with the first of the daylight let
him die!"
Thus upon the morn of the new year, Tito Balzani met his death upon the
battlements of Kenilworth Castle; but though the woods were scoured and
the Castle hunted from end to end, no trace of the veiled maiden nor of
Roger de Horn could be found. It seemed as if in the confusion the girl
had slipped away, perhaps to give warning to their comrade without. None
had seen her from the moment when Amalric had denounced the wizard in
the hearing of the whole assembly. She must have taken instant alarm,
and have made good a clever escape, leaving her hapless brother to his
well-earned fate.
The mummers, who soon explained their innocence and ignorance, were
permitted to depart unhurt; but from that day when he knew that his life
had been attempted, a darker cloud rested upon the stern, worn face of
De Montfort, and sometimes he would break into passionate speech when
alone with his wife or his sons.
"If the realm has done with me and wants me no more, by the arm of St.
James let them say so, and I will be content to return to France, and
live a peaceful life there, away from all this stress and strife. Yet if
I do, all will cry shame upon me for deserting the cause to which I am
pledged; whilst if I stay, I am reviled alike by friend and foe, called
tyrant and usurper, and charged with all manner of crimes, of which not
one can be proven against me!"
In truth, the Earl's position at this time was a very trying one. The
Earl of Gloucester openly charged him with self-seeking and striving
after personal aggrandizement, in order to cover his own defection from
the cause of the Barons. De Montfort's sons fomented the dissensions by
their haughty and overbearing conduct, so that all manner of charges
were raised against them by their foes. True, the conditions imposed
upon the captive King and Prince by the Parliament which met at
Westminster early in the year placed almost regal powers in the hands of
De Montfort; yet he himself knew that his tenure of power was most
precarious. In that very Parliament the Barons' party had been most
meagrely represented, so many nobles having declined to appear. Jealousy
and party strife were doing their disintegrating work amongst the
victors of Lewes, and the nation was beginning to murmur at the
detention of King and Prince.
Plots of all sorts were being hatched for the deliverance of the latter
(the King himself being personally useless to head any national
movement), and the Earl, his uncle, was compelled by policy, as well as
by his own sense of right and justice, to make his captivity as light
and easy as possible.
So his friends were permitted access to him at Kenilworth--even such
pronounced loyalists as Mortimer, Clifford, and Leiburn, who had
declined to lay down their arms at the close of the campaign, but had
retired into Wales in sullen displeasure, there to await the turning of
the tide. A safe-conduct was granted to these and to other friends of
the Prince to visit him in his captivity, albeit the Earl could not but
be aware that in all probability the end of the matter would be that the
Prince would escape from his prison, and immediately appear in arms
against the foes of his father.
De Montfort was not, however, at Kenilworth in person now. He was in
Westminster, directing the deliberations of Parliament; and Henry was
left as the companion of the Prince, together with Thomas de Clare,
brother of the Earl of Gloucester, and other knights congenial to the
royal captive. The breach between Gloucester and Leicester had not yet
been openly proclaimed, and no actual rupture had occurred between the
members of the two houses.
Amalric had, together with Leofric and the De Kynastons, returned to
Oxford. No formal betrothal had taken place between him and Alys. The
affairs of the Earl had taken up so much time and thought, that there
had scarce been space for the consideration of other matters. Moreover
the father had once said to Amalric,--
"Press not the matter home too soon, my son. It may be that we are a
falling, not a rising house. Link not the fate of an innocent maid with
thine till we see whether this rising cloud will disperse again, or
whether it will gather into a tempest that will overthrow us."
Nevertheless it was well understood by the two fathers, ere the
Constable took his departure, that the betrothal of Amalric and Alys
would, if all went well, take place very shortly. Both Earl and Countess
bestowed upon her many rich gifts, and Amalric begged her acceptance of
a costly ring, which she could not refuse, the eyes of her elders being
upon her, although her heart misgave her that this would be regarded as
a pledge when the time came for the settlement of the question of her
marriage.
"It may be thou wilt learn to love him yet," whispered the Demoiselle,
who took a keen interest in the matter, greatly desiring to have Alys
for a sister, and earnestly desiring her brother's happiness, yet
feeling a keen sympathy with the unconfessed romance which she guessed
at, and regarding Leofric as, after her own brother, a very proper mate
for her friend. "Amalric is more like our father than any of them, and I
trow he would be a gallant lover and a loyal husband. But thou shalt
never be forced to do a thing at which thy heart rebels. I will myself
tell him all sooner than thou shalt be made unhappy, sweet Alys."
But at that Alys shrank as though touched upon a wound, and made almost
hasty answer,--
"Speak not so, dearest Eleanora; thou dost not know what thou sayest. I
shall seek in all things to do right; I only wish that my poor heart
were worth the winning of so gallant a gentleman as thy brother. I am
sore ashamed oftentimes to think what a paltry thing he seeks after."
"It is not paltry to him, so it be all his own," answered Eleanora; but
at that word Alys winced again.
However, the party for Oxford rode off from Kenilworth in due course, in
good spirits--Amalric willing to wait for his betrothal till his
father's affairs should be more fully arranged, yet full of confidence
that the day would come when he could call Alys his own.
Meantime Prince Edward remained behind, the playmate of his little
cousin Eleanora at Kenilworth, a pleasant guest and kinsman, never
showing the least spark of resentment at his prolonged captivity, yet
bearing himself with a princely air to those about him, as though he
would have them remember that, if a prisoner, he was a King's son and
the heir of the realm. He received his friends with pleasure, and held
various consultations with them at different times. Henry de Montfort
looked with some suspicion upon these meetings, and wrote once to his
father cautioning him to put a stop to them. But the Earl would not do
this. He felt keenly the difficulties attending holding in captivity his
monarch and that monarch's son, and he was resolved to give as small
reason as possible for complaint.
The talk of arbitration was still going on, but few believed in any
important results, save perhaps the release of King and Prince. Meantime
weeks and months slipped by in quick succession, and the affairs of the
state so engrossed De Montfort that he knew little of what went on
within the walls of his home, save what was reported by his wife and
son.
With the approach of summer, outdoor exercise and amusements were taken
up with zest. The Demoiselle was a fearless rider, and loved to fly a
falcon, or to gallop side by side with her cousin over the green meadows
and golden moors. The Prince delighted in every sort of manly exercise,
and though always attended by a sufficient escort, was permitted to
indulge himself in these pleasures round and about the Castle of
Kenilworth.
Presents were from time to time sent to him by his friends, and one day
there arrived at the Castle a fine horse, which had come from the Earl
of Gloucester. The Demoiselle was greatly pleased with the creature,
and eager for her cousin to try it.
Upon the next morning, therefore, the party rode forth to a green meadow
about two miles distant, bounded on one side by a wood; and here Prince
Edward laughingly challenged his escort to a series of contests of
fleetness and strength. All entered with zest into the spirit of the
thing. The horses were drawn up, and the Demoiselle was called upon to
give judgment.
"Six times round shall be the course," cried the Prince, "and whosoever
comes in first shall be victor."
"Agreed!" cried the other young men, all well mounted, as was needful
when they had so great a prize as the King's son in their custody; and
forthwith the race began.
Six times round that great expanse of turf, six times round at the
reckless speed which young knights strove to attain when engrossed in
feats of skill and daring, was no small strain upon a horse's powers,
and would be an excellent test for the stranger.
Breathlessly did Eleanora watch the gallant creatures sweeping round and
round the course, sometimes one forging ahead, then another making a
gallant dash and passing his comrade, but all the field keeping near
together; for it was a point of honour with his escort not to let the
Prince get far out of reach, and perhaps it occurred to Henry de
Montfort that this might be a ruse on Edward's part to make some
desperate effort at escape.
His year of parole had now expired. He was no longer bound by his
plighted word. Perhaps that detail had escaped the memory of the Earl;
at any rate no request or command had reached the captive for a renewal
of the promise, or for any stricter rule of captivity.
Eleanora, however, thought of nothing but the excitement of the race;
and when upon the sixth round the field came sweeping up towards the
spot where she had placed herself, just within the friendly shade of the
adjacent forest, her face was flushed with excitement, and she cried
gaily,--
"Edward wins--the Prince wins!" just as he brought his panting and
foam-stained horse to a halt beside her.
Edward leaped from the saddle, and made his cousin a graceful bow. There
was a slight rustle in the thicket close behind.
"Farewell, sweet cousin," he cried; "we shall meet again ere long, I
trow!" and before any of those about him had taken in the sense of these
words, the Prince had vaulted upon the back of a strong young horse, led
forth that moment by an unseen hand.
With a shout and an oath Henry de Montfort sprang forward, but was
forcibly held back by young De Clare. The next minute the Prince was
galloping off at a pace which rendered it impossible for any of the
jaded horses to strive to emulate.
"Farewell, gentlemen," cried Edward, waving his hand; "I thank you for
your courtesy and good company these many days. And tell my royal father
that I shall soon see him out of ward! A merry meeting to us all another
day!"
The last words were inaudible. Already the receding figure was
disappearing from their view.
De Clare burst into a loud laugh, and turning fiercely upon Henry de
Montfort he cried,--
"Ride after him and welcome if thou wilt, young fool! He is by this time
with Roger Mortimer and a goodly following, who will hack thee in pieces
with a right good will! I go to join them and my noble brother. Neither
Gloucester nor England will long be content to be ruled by King Simon
the usurper!"
NOTE.--The escape of Prince Edward really took place from Hereford,
though in the same fashion as that described above.