on earth, and the responsibility would have to lie where it
belonged--with God; Mary would have none of it. Her attractiveness was
not a matter of volition or intention on her part. She was too young
for deliberate snare-setting--though it often begins very early in
life--and made no effort to attract men. Man's love was too cheap a
thing for her to strive for, and I am sure, in her heart, she would
infinitely have preferred to live without it--that is, until the right
one should come. The right one is always on his way, and, first or
last, is sure to come to every woman--sometimes, alas! too late--and
when he comes, be it late or early, she crowns him, even though he be
a long-eared ass. Blessed crown! and thrice-blessed blindness--else
there were fewer coronations.
So Brandon stirred this antagonism and determined not to see her
manifold perfections, which he felt sure were exaggerated; but to
treat her as he would the queen--who was black and leathery enough to
frighten a satyr--with all respect due to her rank, but with his own
opinion of her nevertheless, safely stored away in the back of his
head.
Coming up to the group, Brandon took off his hat, and, with a graceful
little bow that let the curls fall around his face, asked: "Have I the
honor to find the Princess Mary among these ladies?"
Mary, who I know you will at once say was thoroughly spoiled, without
turning her face toward him, replied:
"Is the Princess Mary a person of so little consequence about the
court that she is not known to a mighty captain of the guard?"
He wore his guardsman's doublet, and she knew his rank by his
uniform. She had not noticed his face.
Quick as a flash came the answer: "I can not say of what consequence
the Princess Mary is about the court; it is not my place to determine
such matters. I am sure, however, she is not here, for I doubt not she
would have given a gentle answer to a message from the queen. I shall
continue my search." With this, he turned to leave, and the ladies,
including Jane, who was there and saw it all and told me of it,
awaited the bolt they knew would come, for they saw the lightning
gathering in Mary's eyes.
Mary sprang to her feet with an angry flush in her face, exclaiming:
"Insolent fellow, I am the Princess Mary; if you have a message,
deliver it and be gone." You may be sure this sort of treatment was
such as the cool-headed, daring Brandon would repay with usury; so,
turning upon his heel and almost presenting his back to Mary, he spoke
to Lady Jane:
"Will your ladyship say to her highness that her majesty, the queen,
awaits her coming at the marble landing?"
"No need to repeat the message, Jane," cried Mary. "I have ears and
can hear for myself." Then turning to Brandon: "If your insolence will
permit you to receive a message from so insignificant a person as the
king's sister, I beg you to say to the queen that I shall be with her
presently."
He did not turn his face toward Mary, but bowed again to Jane.
"May I ask your ladyship further to say for me that if I have been
guilty of any discourtesy I greatly regret it. My failure to recognize
the Princess Mary grew out of my misfortune in never having been
allowed to bask in the light of her countenance. I cannot believe the
fault lies at my door, and I hope for her own sake that her highness,
on second thought, will realize how ungentle and unkind some one else
has been." And with a sweeping courtesy he walked quickly down the
path.
"The insolent wretch!" cried one.
"He ought to hold papers on the pillory," said another.
"Nothing of the sort," broke in sensible, fearless little Jane; "I
think the Lady Mary was wrong. He could not have known her by
inspiration."
"Jane is right," exclaimed Mary, whose temper, if short, was also
short-lived, and whose kindly heart always set her right if she but
gave it a little time. Her faults were rather those of education than
of nature. "Jane is right; it was what I deserved. I did not think
when I spoke, and did not really mean it as it sounded. He acted like
a man, and looked like one, too, when he defended himself. I warrant
the pope at Rome could not run over him with impunity. For once I have
found a real live man, full of manliness. I saw him in the lists at
Windsor a week ago, but the king said his name was a secret, and I
could not learn it. He seemed to know you, Jane. Who is he? Now tell
us all you know. The queen can wait."
And her majesty waited on a girl's curiosity.
I had told Jane all I knew about Brandon, so she was prepared with
full information, and gave it. She told the princess who he was; of
his terrible duel with Judson; his bravery and adventures in the wars;
his generous gift to his brother and sisters, and lastly, "Sir Edwin
says he is the best-read man in the court, and the bravest, truest
heart in Christendom."
After Jane's account of Brandon, they all started by a roundabout way
for the marble landing. In a few moments whom did they see, coming
toward them down the path, but Brandon, who had delivered his message
and continued his walk. When he saw whom he was about to meet, he
quickly turned in another direction. The Lady Mary had seen him,
however, and told Jane to run forward and bring him to her. She soon
overtook him and said:
"Master Brandon, the princess wishes to see you." Then, maliciously:
"You will suffer this time. I assure you she is not used to such
treatment. It was glorious, though, to see you resent such an affront.
Men usually smirk and smile foolishly and thank her when she smites
them."
Brandon was disinclined to return.
"I am not in her highness's command," he answered, "and do not care
to go back for a reprimand when I am in no way to blame."
"Oh, but you must come; perhaps she will not scold this time," and she
put her hand upon his arm, and laughingly drew him along. Brandon, of
course, had to submit when led by so sweet a captor--anybody would. So
fresh, and fair, and lovable was Jane, that I am sure anything
masculine _must_ have given way.
Coming up to the princess and her ladies, who were waiting, Jane said:
"Lady Mary, let me present Master Brandon, who, if he has offended in
any way, humbly sues for pardon." That was the one thing Brandon had
no notion on earth of doing, but he let it go as Jane had put it, and
this was his reward:
"It is not Master Brandon who should sue for pardon," responded the
princess, "it is I who was wrong. I blush for what I did and said.
Forgive me, sir, and let us start anew." At this she stepped up to
Brandon and offered him her hand, which he, dropping to his knee,
kissed most gallantly.
"Your highness, you can well afford to offend when you have so sweet
and gracious a talent for making amends. 'A wrong acknowledged,' as
some one has said, 'becomes an obligation.'" He looked straight into
the girl's eyes as he said this, and his gaze was altogether too
strong for her, so the lashes fell. She flushed and said with a smile
that brought the dimples:
"I thank you; that is a real compliment." Then laughingly: "Much
better than extravagant comments on one's skin, and eyes, and hair. We
are going to the queen at the marble landing. Will you walk with us,
sir?" And they strolled away together, while the other girls followed
in a whispering, laughing group.
Was there ever so glorious a calm after such a storm?
"Then those mythological compliments," continued Mary, "don't you
dislike them?"
"I can't say that I have ever received many--none that I recall,"
replied Brandon, with a perfectly straight face, but with a smile
trying its best to break out.
"Oh! you have not? Well! how would you like to have somebody always
telling you that Apollo was humpbacked and misshapen compared with
you; that Endymion would have covered his face had he but seen yours,
and so on?"
"I don't know, but I think I should like it--from some persons," he
replied, looking ever so innocent.
This savored of familiarity after so brief an acquaintance, and caused
the princess to glance up in slight surprise; but only for the
instant, for his innocent look disarmed her.
"I have a mind to see," she returned, laughing and throwing her head
back, as she looked up at him out of the corner of her lustrous eyes.
"But I will pay you a better compliment. I positively thank you for
the rebuke. I do many things like that, for which I am always sorry.
Oh! you don't know how difficult it is to be a good princess." And she
shook her head, with a gathering of little trouble-wrinkles in her
forehead, as much as to say, "There is no getting away from it,
though." Then she breathed a soft little sigh of tribulation as they
walked on.
"I know it must be a task to be good when everybody flatters even
one's shortcomings," said Brandon, and then continued in a way that, I
am free to confess, was something priggish: "It is almost impossible
for us to see our own faults, even when others are kind enough to
point them out, for they are right ugly things and unpleasant to look
upon. But lacking those outside monitors, one must all the more
cultivate the habit of constant inlooking and self-examination. If we
are only brave enough to confront our faults and look them in the
face, ugly as they are, we shall be sure to overcome the worst of
them. A striving toward good will achieve at least a part of it."
"Oh!" returned the princess, "but what _is_ good and what _is_ wrong?
So often we can not tell them apart until we look back at what we have
done, and then it is all too late. I truly wish to be good more than I
desire anything else in the world. I am so ignorant and helpless, and
have such strong inclinations to do wrong that sometimes I seem to be
almost all wrong. The priests say so much, but tell us so little.
They talk about St. Peter and St. Paul, and a host of other saints and
holy fathers and what-nots, but fail to tell us what we need every
moment of our lives; that is, how to know the right when we see it,
and how to do it; and how to know the wrong and how to avoid it. They
ask us to believe so much, and insist that faith is the sum of virtue,
and the lack of it the sum of sin; that to faith all things are added;
but we might believe every syllable of their whole disturbing creed,
and then spoil it all through blind ignorance of what is right and
what is wrong."
"As to knowing right and wrong," replied Brandon, "I think I can give
you a rule which, although it may not cover the whole ground, is
excellent for every-day use. It is this: Whatever makes others unhappy
is wrong; whatever makes the world happier is good. As to how we are
always to do this, I can not tell you. One has to learn that by
trying. We can but try, and if we fail altogether, there is still
virtue in every futile effort toward the right."
Mary bent her head as she walked along in thought.
"What you have said is the only approach to a rule for knowing and
doing the right I have ever heard. Now what do you think of me as a
flatterer? But it will do no good; the bad is in me too strong; it
always does itself before I can apply any rule, or even realize what
is coming." And again she shook her head with a bewitching little look
of trouble.
"Pardon me, your highness; but there is no bad _in_ you. It has been
put _on_ you by others, and is all on the outside; there is none of it
in your heart at all. That evil which you think comes out of you,
simply falls from you; your heart is all right, or I have greatly
misjudged you." He was treating her almost as if she were a child.
"I fear, Master Brandon, you are the most adroit flatterer of all,"
said Mary, shaking her head and looking up at him with a side glance,
"people have deluged me with all kinds of flattery--I have the
different sorts listed and labeled--but no one has ever gone to the
extravagant length of calling me good. Perhaps they think I do not
care for that; but I like it best. I don't like the others at all. If
I am beautiful or not, it is as God made me, and I have nothing to do
with it, and desire no credit, but if I could only be good it might be
my own doing, perhaps, and I ought to have praise. I wonder if there
is really and truly any good in me, and if you have read me aright."
Then looking up at him with a touch of consternation: "Or are you
laughing at me?"
Brandon wisely let the last suggestion pass unnoticed.
"I am sure that I am right; you have glorious capacities for good, but
alas! corresponding possibilities for evil. It will eventually all
depend upon the man you marry. He can make out of you a perfect woman,
or the reverse." Again there was the surprised expression in Mary's
face, but Brandon's serious look disarmed her.
"I fear you are right, as to the reverse, at any rate; and the worst
of it is, I shall never be able to choose a man to help me, but shall
sooner or later be compelled to marry the creature who will pay the
greatest price."
"God forbid!" said Brandon reverently.
They were growing rather serious, so Mary turned the conversation
again into the laughing mood, and said, with a half sigh: "Oh! I hope
you are right about the possibilities for good, but you do not know.
Wait until you have seen more of me."
"I certainly hope I shall not have long to wait."
The surprised eyes again glanced quickly up to the serious face, but
the answer came: "That you shall not:--but here is the queen, and I
suppose we must have the benediction." Brandon understood her
hint--that the preaching was over,--and taking it for his dismissal,
playfully lifted his hands in imitation of the old Bishop of
Canterbury, and murmured the first line of the Latin benediction. Then
they both laughed and courtesied, and Brandon walked away.
_CHAPTER IV_
_A Lesson in Dancing_
I laughed heartily when Jane told me of the tilt between Brandon and
Princess Mary, the latter of whom was in the habit of saying unkind
things and being thanked for them.
Brandon was the wrong man to say them to, as Mary learned. He was not
hot-tempered; in fact, just the reverse, but he was the last man to
brook an affront, and the quickest to resent, in a cool-headed,
dangerous way, an intentional offense.
He respected himself and made others do the same, or seem to do so, at
least. He had no vanity--which is but an inordinate desire for those
qualities that bring self-respect, and often the result of conscious
demerit--but he knew himself, and knew that he was entitled to his own
good opinion. He was every inch a man, strong, intelligent and brave
to temerity, with a reckless disregard of consequences, which might
have been dangerous had it not been tempered by a dash of prudence and
caution that gave him ballast.
I was not surprised when I heard of the encounter; for I knew enough
of him to be sure that Mary's high-handedness would meet its
counterpart in my cool friend Brandon. It was, however, an unfortunate
victory, and what all Mary's beauty and brightness would have failed
to do, her honest, open acknowledgment of wrong, following so quickly
upon the heels of her fault, accomplished easily. It drew him within
the circle of her fatal attractions, and when Jane told me of it, I
knew his fate was sealed, and that, sooner or later, his untouched
heart and cool head would fall victim to the shafts that so surely
winged all others.
It might, and probably would, be "later," since, as Brandon had said,
he was not one of those who wear the heart upon the sleeve. Then he
had that strong vein of prudence and caution, which, in view of Mary's
unattainableness, would probably come to his help. But never was man's
heart strong enough to resist Mary Tudor's smile for long.
There was this difference between Brandon and most others--he would be
slow to love, but when love should once fairly take root in his
intense nature, he would not do to trifle with.
The night after the meeting, Mary cuddled up to Jane, who slept with
her, and whispered, half bashfully:
"Tell me all about Brandon; I am interested in him. I believe if I
knew more persons like him I should be a better girl, notwithstanding
he is one of the boldest men I ever knew. He says anything he wishes,
and, with all his modest manner, is as cool with me as if I were a
burgher's daughter. His modesty is all on the outside, but it is
pretty, and pretty things must be on the outside to be useful. I
wonder if Judson thought him modest?"
Jane talked of Brandon to Mary, who was in an excellent humor, until
the girls fell asleep.
When Jane told me of this I became frightened; for the surest way to
any woman's heart is to convince her that you make her better, and
arouse in her breast purer impulses and higher aspirations. It would
be bad enough should Brandon fall in love with the princess, which was
almost sure to happen, but for them to fall in love with each other
meant Brandon's head upon the block, and Mary's heart bruised, broken
and empty for life. Her strong nature, filled to the brim with latent
passion, was the stuff of which love makes a conflagration that burns
to destruction; and should she learn to love Brandon, she would move
heaven and earth to possess him.
She whose every desire from childhood up had been gratified, whose
every whim seemed to her a paramount necessity, would stop at nothing
when the dearest wish a woman's heart can coin was to be gained or
lost. Brandon's element of prudence might help him, and might
forestall any effort on his part to win her, but Mary had never heard
of prudence, and man's caution avails but little when set against
woman's daring. In case they both should love, they were sure to try
for each other, and in trying were equally sure to find ruin and
desolation.
A few evenings after this I met the princess in the queen's
drawing-room. She beckoned me to her, and, resting her elbows on the
top of a cabinet, her chin in her hands, said: "I met your friend,
Captain Brandon, a day or two ago. Did he tell you?"
"No," I answered; "Jane told me, but he has not mentioned it."
It was true Brandon had not said a word of the matter, and I had not
spoken of it, either. I wanted to see how long he would remain silent
concerning an adventure that would have set most men of the court
boasting at a great rate. To have a tilt with the ever-victorious
Mary, and to come off victor, was enough, I think, to loosen any
tongue less given to bragging than Brandon's.
"So," continued Mary, evidently somewhat piqued, "he did not think his
presentation to me a thing worth mentioning? We had a little
passage-at-arms, and, to tell you the truth, I came off second best,
and had to acknowledge it, too. Now, what do you think of this new
friend of yours? And he did not boast about having the better of me?
After all, there is more virtue in his silence than I at first
thought." And she threw back her head, and clapped her hands and
laughed with the most contagious little ripple you ever heard. She
seemed not to grieve over her defeat, but dimpled as though it were a
huge joke, the thought of which rather pleased her than otherwise.
Victory had grown stale for her, although so young.
"What do I think of my new friend?" I repeated after her; and that
gave me a theme upon which I could enlarge eloquently. I told her of
his learning, notwithstanding the fact that he had been in the
continental wars ever since he was a boy. I repeated to her stories of
his daring and bravery, that had been told to me by his uncle, the
Master of the Horse, and others, and then I added what I knew Lady
Jane had already said. I had expected to be brief, but to my surprise
found a close and interested listener, even to the twice-told parts,
and drew my story out a little, to the liking of us both.
"Your friend has an earnest advocate in you, Sir Edwin," said the
princess.
"That he has," I replied. "There is nothing too good to say of him."
I knew that Mary, with her better, clearer brain, held the king almost
in the palm of her hand, so I thought to advance Brandon's fortune by
a timely word.
"I trust the king will see fit to favor him, and I hope that you will
speak a word in his behalf, should the opportunity occur."
"What in the name of heaven have we to give him?" cried Mary
impatiently, for she kept an eye on things political, even if she were
only a girl--"the king has given away everything that can be given,
already, and now that the war is over, and men are coming home, there
are hundreds waiting for more. My father's great treasure is
squandered, to say nothing of the money collected from Empson,
Dudley, and the other commissioners. There is nothing to give unless
it be the titles and estate of the late Duke of Suffolk. Perhaps the
king will give these to your paragon, if you will paint him in as fair
a light as you have drawn him for me." Then throwing back her head
with a laugh, "Ask him."
"It would be none too much for his deserts," I replied, falling in
with her humor.
"We will so arrange it then," went on Mary, banteringly; "Captain
Brandon no longer, but Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. How sounds
it, Master Caskoden?"
"Sweet in my ears," I replied.
"I really believe you would have the king's crown for him, you absurd
man, if you could get it. We must have so interesting a person at
court; I shall at least see that he is presented to the queen at once.
I wonder if he dances; I suppose not. He has probably been too busy
cutting and thrusting." And she laughed again at her own pleasantry.
When the mirth began to gather in her face and the dimples came
responsive to her smiles; when she threw back her perfectly poised
head, stretching her soft, white throat, so full and round and
beautiful, half closing her big brown eyes till they shone again from
beneath the shade of those long, black sweeping lashes; when her red
lips parted, showing her teeth of pearl, and she gave the little clap
of her hands--a sort of climax to the soft, low, rippling laugh--she
made a picture of such exquisite loveliness that it is no wonder men
were fools about her, and caught love as one catches a contagion. I
had it once, as you already know, and had recovered. All that
prevented a daily relapse was my fair, sweet antidote, Jane, whose
image rested in my heart, a lasting safeguard.
"I wonder if your prodigy plays cards; that is, such as we ladies
play?" asked Mary. "You say he has lived much in France, where the
game was invented, but I have no doubt he would scorn to waste his
time at so frivolous a pursuit, when he might be slaughtering armies
single-handed and alone."
"I do not know as to his dancing and card-playing, but I dare venture
a wager he does both," I replied, not liking her tone of sarcasm. She
had yet to learn who Brandon was.
"I will hazard ten crowns," said Mary quickly, for she loved a wager
and was a born gambler.
"Taken," said I.
"We will try him on both to-morrow night in my drawing-room," she
continued. "You bring him up, but tell no one. I will have Jane there
with her lute, which will not frighten you away, I know, and we will
try his step. I will have cards, too, and we shall see what he can do
at triumph. Just we four--no one else at all. You and Jane, the new
Duke of Suffolk and I. Oh! I can hardly wait," and she fairly danced
with joyous anticipation.
The thing had enough irregularity to give it zest, for while Mary
often had a few young people in her drawing-room, the companies were
never so small as two couples only, and the king and queen, to make up
for greater faults, were wonderful sticklers in the matter of little
proprieties.
The ten-crown wager, too, gave spice to it, but to do her justice she
cared very little for that. The princess loved gambling purely for
gambling's sake, and with her, the next best thing to winning was
losing.
When I went to my room that night, I awakened Brandon and told him of
the distinguished honor that awaited him.
"Well! I'll be"--but he did not say what he would "be." He always
halted before an oath, unless angry, which was seldom, but then
beware!--he had learned to swear in Flanders. "How she did fly at me
the other morning. I never was more surprised in all my life. For once
I was almost caught with my guard down, and did not know how to parry
the thrust. I mumbled over some sort of a lame retaliation and beat a
retreat. It was so unjust and uncalled-for that it made me angry; but
she was so gracious in her amends that I was almost glad it happened.
I like a woman who can be as savage as the very devil when it pleases
her; she usually has in store an assortment of possibilities for the
other extreme."
"She told me of your encounter," I returned, "but said she had come
off second best, and seemed to think her overthrow a huge joke."
"The man who learns to know what a woman thinks and feels will have a
great deal of valuable information," he replied; and then turned over
for sleep, greatly pleased that one woman thought as she did.
I was not sure he would be so highly flattered if he knew that he had
been invited to settle a wager, and to help Mary to a little sport.
As to the former, I had an interest there myself, although I dared not
settle the question by asking Brandon if he played cards and danced;
and, as to the matter of Mary's sport, I felt there was but little, if
any, danger of her having too much of it at his expense, Brandon being
well able to care for himself in that respect.