"The Earl of Ashby, my good lord, desires to speak with you," said
stout Tom Blawket, addressing Hugh de Monthermer, as he sat at a table,
writing.
"Admit him instantly," answered Hugh. "Is he alone?"
"Quite alone, my lord," replied the man, and retired.
The burst of anger to which Alured de Ashby had given way, when
irritated by his cousin's presence, had passed off; and he now entered
the chamber of Hugh de Monthermer, grave and sad, but with feelings of
a high and noble kind. He turned his eye back, as he passed the door
towards the ante-room, where a page and some yeomen were seated; and
Hugh de Monthermer, divining the meaning of the glance, bade Blawket,
as he ushered the Earl in, clear the outer chamber and let no one
remain there.
The Earl advanced at once towards his adversary, and with a frank
though grave air, held out his hand. Hugh took it and pressed it in his
own, and seating themselves together, Alured de Ashby began upon the
motive of his coming.
"Monthermer," he said, "I cannot meet you to-morrow in the field, as
needs must be in consequence of my own rashness and the world's
opinion, without saying a word or two to clear my conscience and
relieve my heart. When I made the charge I did make, I was induced by
artful men to believe you guilty. Since then, however, reason and
thought, and some accidental discoveries, have made me doubt the fact.
"Doubt?" exclaimed Hugh de Monthermer, in a tone of reproach.
"Well, well," said Alured, "to believe that the charge is false. Will
that satisfy you?"
"It must," replied Hugh de Monthermer. "Am I then to suppose, that it
is the world's opinion, the fear of an idle scoff alone, which makes
you draw your sword against a friend, which makes you still urge--but I
will not use a term that can pain you--which makes you risk your life
and mine, a sister's happiness, and your own repose of mind for ever,
all for an idle scoff?"
"Even so, Monthermer, even so!" said Alured de Ashby, in a sad, but
determined tone. "I know it all--all you could urge; but yet you and I
are well matched in arms; both have some renown--yours, perhaps, higher
than my own, from having fought in Palestine--and it is impossible
that, after having called you to the field, I can in aught retract,
without drawing down upon myself a charge of fear, which must never
rest upon my name. Men would say I dared not meet you, and that must
not be."
Hugh rose from his seat, and walked twice across the room, then shook
his head with a grieved and sorrowful expression, replying, "Ashby, you
are wrong; but I, on my part, must say no word to shake your
resolution. As you judge best, so must you act, but I go to the field
with a heart free from wrong; sad, bitterly sad, that I am forced to
draw the sword against a man whom I would fain take to my heart with
love;--sad, bitterly sad, that whether I live or die, a charge I have
not merited brings sorrow upon me. But, as I have said, I will urge no
motive upon you to change your purpose; only hear me, Alured, when I
call God and all the holy saints to witness, that the thought of
injuring your father by word or deed never could cross my mind--that I
am, in short, as guiltless of his death as the babe unborn!"
"I believe you--I do believe you, indeed," said the young Earl.
"Well, then," replied Hugh, "I have a charge to give you, Alured. None
can tell what the result of such a day as to-morrow may be. I go with
my heart bent down with care and sorrow; your sister's love blunts my
lance and rusts my sword--hatred of the task put upon me hangs heavy on
my arm--and 'tis possible that, though mine be the righteous cause,
yours the bad one, I may fall, and you may conquer. If so, there is a
debt of justice which you owe me, and I charge you execute it--ay, as
an act of penitence. Proclaim with your own voice the innocence of the
man you have slain, seek every proof to show he was not guilty, and
bring the murderers to the block--even should you find them in your own
house."
The Earl covered his eyes with his hands, and remained silent for a
moment, but then looked up again, saying, "No, no; 'tis I that shall
fall. The penalty of my own rashness at first, the penalty of my own
weakness now--for it is a weakness--will be paid by myself, Monthermer.
I feel that my days are at an end; my death under your lance will clear
you of the charge that I have brought against you, and yours will be
the task to seek and punish the assassins of my father."
"And your sister?" said Hugh de Monthermer.
"I have seen her," replied her brother. "I have seen her, and told her
my wishes and my will. Of that no more; only remember, Monthermer, that
when to-morrow I call God to witness that my cause is just, the cause I
mean is not my charge against you, but the defence of my own honour
against the injurious suspicions of the world."
Hugh looked at him with a rueful smile. "Alas, Alured!" he said, "I
fear the eye of Heaven will not see the distinction. Ask your confessor
what he thinks of such a reservation. But if it must be so, so let it
be!! Yet 'tis a strange thing that two men, most unwilling to do each
other wrong, should be doomed by one hasty word to slaughter each other
against conscience."
"Ay, so goes the world, Hugh," replied the Earl, "and so it will go
too, I fear, till the last day. We must all do our devoir as knights."
Hugh de Monthermer remembered of his knightly oath and the true duties
of chivalry, and he could not help thinking that the mere reputation of
a lesser virtue was held to be of more importance than the great and
leading characteristics of that noble institution. He said nothing,
however; for he would not urge the Earl to forego his purpose, and he
knew that reproach would irritate, but not change him.
"I grieve, Alured," he said, "that you feel it so; but as you are the
mover in all this, with you must it rest. I can but defend my innocence
as best I may."
The tone which the young knight assumed, the calmness, the kindness,
the want of all bravado, touched Alured de Ashby's heart more than
aught else on earth could have done, and wringing Hugh de Monthermer's
hand, he said, "Good bye, good bye! I believe you innocent, from my
soul, Monthermer, and I would give my right hand that you or I were a
hundred miles hence this night."
With these words he quitted the room, and turned his steps toward his
own lodging. He had thought, by visiting his adversary, to satisfy
those better feelings, which, under the pressure of dark and terrible
circumstances, had arisen in his heart--he had thought to relieve his
bosom of the load that sat upon it, to make his conscience feel light
and easy, and to cast off the burden of regret. But the result had been
very different: the bitterness in his heart was doubled; sorrow, shame,
anxiety, were all increased; and yet not one word or look of him whom
he had deeply injured, gave human nature the opportunity of rousing up
anger to take the place of regret. He felt his heart burn within him,
his eyeballs seemed on fire, his head ached, and, ere he entered the
door which led to his apartments, he threw back his hood, and walked
three or four times up and down the court.
He was just about to go in, when another figure, coming across from the
same side where his lodgings lay, approached and cut him off, as it
were; and in a moment after, Guy de Margan was at his side.
"Give you good evening, my lord," he said.
"Good night," rejoined Alured, advancing as if to pass him.
"Pray what is the matter with your cousin Richard?" asked the other. "I
met him hurrying through the gates but now like a madman."
"I know not, sir," replied Alured, impatiently; but, the moment after
he continued, in a changed tone--"By the way, Sir Guy, I would fain
speak with you. Thou hast been a friend and companion of Richard de
Ashby."
"Well, my lord!" exclaimed Guy de Margan.
"Thou hast aided him with all thy might, to fix the crime of my
father's death on Hugh de Monthermer!" said the Earl, and then paused,
as if for a reply.
None was made, however, and he went on. "The accusers may be the
accused some day--so look to it! look to it!" and he turned hastily
towards his lodging.
Guy de Margan stayed for a moment in the middle of the court, and then
darted after Alured de Ashby, exclaiming, "My lord--my lord! one word.
Do you mean to charge me with any share in your father's death? If you
do, I demand, that this instant, before the King, you make it publicly.
I know, too well, my lord, to dare you to arms upon such a quarrel; but
if the Earl of Ashby thinks fit first to accuse one, and then another,
I will put myself upon my trial by my peers, who will force you to
prove your words."
"Out of my way, reptile!" cried the Earl--"Out of my way, or I will
stamp upon thy head, and crush thee like a poisonous worm. Who accused
thee? I did not!"
"I thought the Earl of Ashby might seek to avoid fighting his
adversary," said Guy de Margan, drawing a step or two back, "and wish
to do it at my expense--Hugh de Monthermer is a renowned knight, and no
pleasant foe to meet at outrance."
Alured felt for the pommel of his sword, but he had left it on the
table behind him; and springing at once upon Guy de Margan, he caught
him by the throat before he could dart away, and hurled him backwards
with tremendous force upon the pavement.
Stunned and bleeding, Guy de Margan lay without sense or motion; and
the young Earl, crying, "Lie there, fox!" strode back to his
apartments. Passing hastily through the other rooms to his own chamber,
he paused by the side of the table, in deep thought; and then,
pronouncing the words, "A set of knaves and villains!" he filled the
agate cup to the brim with wine, raised it to his lips, and drained it
to the dregs.