"Kinsman--marry, a brother in very sooth!" cried the hospitable
farmer, eying Paul's young companion with a glance of shrewd
admiration and surprise; "and right welcome shall he be to such
good cheer as my poor house can afford.
"And how found you your brother, fair youth?--for it can scarce
have been chance that led you here. My guest spoke not of bringing
you home when he started forth today."
"Nay, he knew it not himself," answered the prince, laughing
merrily. "Nor is he my brother, good mine host: our kinship is a
less close one than that, for all that we favour each other so
well. He had no thought of the encounter when he started forth
today, but kind fortune guided us to the meeting. As children we
loved each other and played together, but for years we have not
met. I am nought but a solitary wanderer, without friends or home.
It has been a happy chance that has brought to me this trusty
comrade and the welcome of this hospitable home."
There was something so attractive in the aspect and speech of the
royal youth that all who heard him felt their hearts go out to him,
they knew not why. The farmer laid his horny hand on the lad's arm,
and cried in his jovial way:
"All travellers, be they gentle or simple, are welcome at Figeon's
Farm, and doubly so anyone who claims kinship with our guest and
very good friend Paul Stukely. And you come at a good time, too,
young sir; for we have a wedding feast in prospect, and we shall
want all the blithe company we can assemble to make merry at it.
"Come, my wench; you need not run away. You are not ashamed of
honest Will; and these gentlemen will doubtless honour our poor
home by remaining our guests a while longer, that they may tread a
measure at your marriage feast."
Paul looked smilingly at the blushing Joan, whose face was alight
with happiness, and her father continued laughingly:
"Oh ay, they have made it up together this very day; and poor Will,
who has been courting her these three years and more, cannot see
what there is to wait for--no more can I. For my part, since that
rascally Simon tried to carry off the girl, I have known no peace
about her. Figeon's is a lonely place, and the young know not how
to be cautious, and it's ill work for young blood to be cooped up
ever between four walls. Down in the village, with neighbours about
her, the wench will be safe enough, and Will's sturdy arm will be
her best protection. Simon might think twice about assaulting a
wedded woman to carry her away, when he would count a maid fair
spoil, seeing that he ever claimed to be called a lover of hers. So
all ways she will be safer wed, and I see no cause for them to
wait."
And indeed in those unsettled and troubled times fathers were glad
enough to get their daughters safely married at the first
reasonable opportunity. Farmer Devenish had another reason in
wishing Joan to leave her home. He was afraid that she might imbibe
the views her mother had embraced, and which he and his son could
not but give credence to, whilst they made no protest of having
altered their old way of thinking. But he had always forbidden his
wife to disturb Joan in her pious faith in the old religion. Such
hard matters, he said, were not for young wenches; and the peril
which menaced those who embraced the reformed doctrines was
sufficiently terrible for the mother to be almost glad of the
prohibition. It would be an awful thing for her if her daughter
fell under the ban of the law, and was made to answer for her faith
as some had been in so cruel a fashion before now.
So that there was no wish on the part of any at the old home to
hinder her marriage, and as soon as the young people had come to an
understanding with one another, their way was made perfectly plain
by those in authority.
Joan looked shyly at Paul as he crossed the kitchen with some
pleasant word of congratulation, and said:
"In faith, kind sir, I think we owe it all to you. Will tells me it
was you who sent him hither today. He had got some foolish notion
in his head which kept him away; but he said it was you who bid him
take heart and try his luck."
"And very good luck he has had, it seems," answered Paul, laughing.
"And so the marriage is to be next week?"
"My father and mother wish it so," answered the blushing Joan; "and
my mother has long had all my household linen spun against the
wedding day. I trust you will stay, and your kinsman also.
Perchance you have never before seen a rustic wedding."
"Not for many years now," answered Paul, with a smile and a sigh;
"and I would fain be a witness of yours, fair mistress. But I must
ask my young companion there. We have linked our lives together for
the nonce."
But young Edward was perfectly willing to be the farmer's guest for
awhile. Nothing could better have fitted in with his own wishes
than to have stayed in such unquestioned fashion beneath the roof
of one of his humble subjects. At the supper table that night he
won all hearts by the grace of his manners, the sweetness of his
smiles, his ready courtesy to all, and the brilliant sallies that
escaped his lips which set the whole table sometimes in a roar. He
possessed that ready adaptability to circumstances which is often
an attribute of the highest birth. The motherly heart of Mistress
Devenish went out to him at once, and she would fain have known
something of his history, and how it came that so fair and gentle a
youth was wandering thus alone in the wide world.
Paul had told her all his story without the least reserve; but this
kinsman of his was more reticent, and if asked a question,
contrived to turn the edge off it without appearing to avoid giving
a direct answer. But Mistress Devenish was acute enough to perceive
that he did not intend to speak of his own past; and noting the
unconscious deference paid by Paul to one whom seniority would have
given him the right to dictate to and lead, she came to the
conclusion that, kinsfolk or no, the newcomer was of a more exalted
rank than his comrade, and that some romantic history attached to
him, as it did only too often, to wanderers in those days. Her
interest in him only deepened as she reached this conclusion, and
she wished that she knew how to help the two lonely youths whose
fates seemed now to be linked together.
Supper was in course, and the whole party assembled round the
table, when a knock at the outer door, heralded by a great barking
of dogs without, caused one of the men to start to his feet; whilst
Joan turned red and pale, as she had had a trick of doing of late;
and the farmer looked a trifle uneasy, as a man may do who is half
afraid of some domestic visitation of an unpleasing kind.
But when the door was opened, brows cleared and anxious looks
vanished; for the visitor was none other than the peddler of a few
days back, who, contrary to custom, had paid a second visit to the
village within a week of the first.
"Good even, good folks," he said, stepping in with his heavy bags,
which he deposited with a grunt upon the floor. "You will wonder to
see me so soon again, but I was turned from my course by the
breaking down of the bridge at Terling, and so I thought I would
tramp back the way I had come. Reaching the village at sundown, I
heard the news of the wedding that is to be up here; and, thought
I, surely where a wedding is to be the peddler is always welcome.
So here I am, and I doubt not you will give me a night's shelter;
and the pretty maid is welcome to turn over my packs at her
leisure, whilst I take my ease in yon cozy inglenook."
The peddler was always a welcome guest in those days, and Peter was
eagerly welcomed by all. He was speedily seated at the board, the
best of everything heaped upon his trencher; whilst as he talked
and ate at the same time, doing both with hearty goodwill, Joan and
one of the serving wenches slipped away to the tempting packs and
undid the strings, handling the wares thus exposed with tender care
and delighted curiosity.
The father laughed as he saw his daughter thus employed, but bid
her choose the finest stuff to make herself a wedding kirtle;
whilst he himself turned again to the peddler, asking news of the
realm; and young Edward leaned his elbows on the table with his
head in his hands, listening eagerly to every word that passed.
Paul almost wished he would not thus listen, for it was the same
old story everywhere: discontent at the present state of things;
longing for "the king"--by which was meant Edward the Fourth--to
come back and reclaim the kingdom; gloomy prognostications of civil
war; hopes that the proud Earl of Warwick would change sides once
more--a thing many quite expected of him.
And invective against the feeble Henry and the warlike and
revengeful Margaret of Anjou, scornfully called "the Frenchwoman,"
ran so high that Paul presently drew his kinsman away, and tried to
interest him in other matters.
"Heed them not, my lord," he whispered. "We know there have ever
been two factions in the kingdom, and in these parts they are all
for the House of York. But the coming of this peddler may be good
for you. Said you not that you wished to purchase a riding dress?
His wares are good and not too costly for narrow purses. Since we
mean to ride to London shortly, this were no bad time to furnish
yourself with such things as you need for the journey."
Edward roused himself with an effort, and shook off the melancholy
which had crept over his face as he listened to the talk round the
table. The peddler's wares were being unpacked and handed round for
inspection in a free and easy fashion enough; but the man made no
objection, and only kept a pretty keen watch upon his property,
glancing from time to time at the stranger youth with rather marked
scrutiny, which, however, the latter did not observe.
There was a riding dress amongst the goods of the peddler somewhat
similar to the one recently purchased by Paul, and Edward decided
upon the purchase of it, if he could come to terms with the man. He
and Paul both desired to make some present to the bride, and picked
out, the one an elegant high-peaked headdress, such as the ladies
of the day loved to wear, though satirists made merry at the
expense of their "exalted horns;" the other, some of the long gold
pins to fasten both cap and hair which were equally acceptable as
an adjunct to a lady's toilet.
Edward brought his purchases over to the corner where the peddler
had ensconced himself, and addressed him in a low tone:
"See here, my good fellow. I am a wanderer from foreign parts; and
my servant, who had charge of my moneybag, lost his life, I fear
me, in trying to effect the landing on these shores, which I was
lucky enough to manage in safety. Thus it comes about that I have
but little gold about me. But your trade is one that barters all
kinds of gear, and I have this pearl clasp to offer to you in part
exchange for what I wish to take of you, so doubtless you will
furnish me over and above with money to put in my gipsire: for the
clasp is a valuable one, as any one who knows gems can see at a
glance; nor would I part with it, but that necessity compels me."
The peddler looked at the clasp attentively, and then gave such a
quick, keen look at the prince as would have aroused Paul's anxiety
had he been near at hand. But he had not observed his comrade's
last move, and was still patiently holding out stuffs in good
natured if rather clumsy man fashion for the farmer's wife and
daughter to take stock of and compare one with another.
"Hum--yes--a pretty trinket and a costly one, I doubt not, for
those that have a market for such things," returned the peddler.
"And how came you by it, young sir? It scarce seems in accord with
the simplicity of your dress and appointments."
Edward flushed slightly. He was not used to being taken to task,
and that by a common peddler; but his common sense told him that he
must expect such treatment now, and not be over ready to take
offence, so he answered quietly enough:
"It has been in our family these many years. I know not how it came
there first. I trow I am not the only youth who has jewels by him
in these days little in keeping with the bravery of his other
garments."
The peddler nodded his head with a smile.
"True, true, young sir; I meant no offence. Fortunes are lost and
won but too quickly in these times, and will be again, I misdoubt
me, ere England sees peace and prosperity once more. But at least
the vultures fatten if honest folks starve; and what care princes
how their subjects suffer, so as they and their nobles divide the
spoil?"
"Nay, now, you wrong them," cried the lad with sudden heat. "He is
unworthy the name of prince who could thus think or act."
Then pulling himself up quickly, as if afraid he had said too much,
he returned to the matter of the bargain, and asked what the
peddler would allow for the jewel.
The offer was not a very liberal one, but the man professed that
jewels were difficult to get rid of, and Edward was no hand at
making a bargain. However, when he had paid for his purchases he
had a few gold pieces to put in his pouch, and he reflected that in
London he should be able to dispose of the other jewels in his
possession to better advantage. He had enough now to purchase a
horse to take him to London, and for the present that was all he
required.
He and Paul shared the same room at night, and talked in low tones
far on into the small hours. Edward, who had suffered many
hardships and privations since leaving the French court, was glad
enough of a few days' rest in the hospitable farmhouse, and of the
opportunity of hearing all the village gossip which the wedding
festivity would give him. But after that event he desired to push
on to London, to learn what he could of public feeling in the great
metropolis.
"For, Paul," he said, gravely and almost sadly, "the city of London
is like the heart of the nation. If that beat with enmity to our
cause and love to our foes, I fear me all is lost before a blow has
been struck. I know we have loyal friends in the west, and in some
of those fair towns like Coventry and Lichfield; but if London be
against us, that rich merchant city, the pride and wonder of the
world, I have little heart or hope of success. Folks ever talk as
if London were Yorkist to the core; but I yet have hopes that
amongst her humbler citizens there may beat hearts warm in Henry of
Lancaster's cause. At least I will go thither and see with my own
eyes, and hear with my own ears. Disguised as we shall be, we shall
hear the truth, and all men who are lukewarm will be inclining
toward the cause that has the mighty King Maker, as they call him,
in its ranks. We shall hear the best that is to be heard. If the
best be bad, I shall know that our cause is hopeless indeed."
Paul pressed the hand he held, but said nothing. He feared only too
well what they would hear in London. But yet, inasmuch as he was
young and ardent, he hoped even whilst he feared; and talking and
planning their future in glowing colours, both the lads fell
asleep.
The following days were bright and busy ones at the farm. The
peddler had vanished ere the travellers were downstairs next
morning; but they had bought all they required overnight, and did
not trouble about that. There was a great stirring throughout the
house, and the needles of mistress and maid were flying swiftly
whilst the short daylight lasted.
Edward and Paul spent the morning hours in the selection of a horse
fit to carry the prince on his journey to London, and the farmer's
son brought all the spare colts and lighter steeds into the straw
yard for their guest to try and select for himself. There was no
horse quite so handsome or well bred as Sultan, and Paul was eager
for Edward to accept his steed in place of another. But the prince
only laughed and shook his head, in the end selecting a fine
chestnut colt only just broken to the wearing of the halter; and
the kinsmen spent the best part of the next days in teaching the
mettlesome though tractable creature how to answer to the rein and
submit to saddle and rider. It was shod at Ives's forge, and
christened by the name of Crusader, and soon learned to love the
lads, who, whilst showing themselves masters of its wildest moods,
were yet kindly and gentle in their handling.
The young prince was in great spirits during these days. He had
been all his life somewhat too much under the close restraint of an
affectionate but dictatorial mother, and had been master of none of
his own actions. Such restraint was galling to a high-spirited
youth; and although the sweetness of disposition inherited from his
father had carried the prince through life without rebellion or
repining, yet this foretaste of liberty was very delightful, and
the romance of being thus unknown and obscure, free to go where he
would unquestioned and unmarked, exercised a great fascination over
him, and made him almost forget the shadow which sometimes seemed
to hang over his path.
Paul was as light hearted as his companion in the main, though
there were moments when his joy at having his adored prince under
his care was dashed by the feeling of responsibility in such a
charge, and by the fear of peril to the hope of the House of
Lancaster. He wondered if it were his fancy that the farm was
watched; that there were often stealthy steps heard without in the
night--steps that set the dogs barking furiously, but which never
could be accounted for next day; that if he rode or walked down the
cart road to the village alone or with his comrade, their movements
were followed by watchful eyes--eyes that seemed now and again to
glare at him, as in the dusk that first evening, but which always
melted away into the shadows of the forest if looked at closely or
followed and tracked.
He was disposed to think it all the trick of an excited
imagination, but he began to be not sorry that the day for
departure was drawing near. If he had provoked the enmity of the
robber chief, or if by a remoter chance the identity of his
companion had been suspected, it would be better to be off without
much more delay so soon as the wedding should be over.
Joan herself was nervous and fearful, and seldom set foot outside
the door of her home. She sometimes said with a shiver that she was
certain there were fierce men hiding about the house ready to carry
her off if she did; and though her father and brother laughed at
her fear, they humoured her, and were willing enough to let her
keep safe at home: for Simon Dowsett was not a man to be trifled
with, and he might very likely have heard before now that the woman
he had vowed to make his wife was to be given in marriage to his
rival.
The days, however, fled by without any event to arouse real
disquiet, and on the morrow Joan would pass to the sturdy keeping
of the young smith, whose new house stood well flanked between his
father's dwelling and the forge in the heart of the village where
law-abiding persons dwelt in fair security.
The eve of the marriage day had come and gone. The household had
retired to rest. Paul and Edward were in their raftered room, which
was better lighted by the fire of logs than by the feeble rush
light glimmering on the table. Fuel was so plentiful in that wooded
country that all the hearths blazed in cold weather with the
sputtering pine logs, which gave out an aromatic scent pleasant to
the nostril.
As they closed the door behind them, Edward laid a hand upon his
companion's arm and said:
"Good Paul, shall we two hold a vigil this night? I misdoubt me
that some mischief is meditated toward Mistress Joan this night. I
would that we might keep watch and ward."
"With all my heart," answered Paul readily, instinctively laying
his hand upon his poniard. "But what makes you think that evil is
intended?"
"I scarce know, but so it is. Noted you not how quiet and sluggish
the dogs were at suppertime tonight? They would scarce come to
receive a morsel of meat, and as often as not turned away in
indifference, and curled themselves to sleep again. Indoors and out
they are all alike. And did you not hear Jack Devenish say as he
came in from his last round that he feared the great black watchdog
in the yard would not live till morning, he seemed so sick and out
of sorts? I wondered then that no one thought strange hands had
been tampering with them; but all the farmer said was that he
supposed they had gorged themselves upon the refuse meat of the
sheep they had been killing--and I liked not to say ought to alarm
them, for it may be as they say, and surely they ought best to
know."
"Nevertheless we may well make ourselves watchdogs for tonight,"
said Paul. "If evil is meant against the girl, this is the last
chance that bold Devil's Own, as they call him, will have of
getting her into his power. They all call him a desperate fellow,
and he will know that after the hard day's toil to have all in
readiness for the morrow the household will sleep sound tonight.
Why, even the maid had sleeping draught of spiced wine given her by
her mother, that she might look her best in her bridal kirtle
tomorrow. I think they all pledged themselves in the same bowl.
"I warrant there will be no watchers but ourselves tonight. What
say you to look to our weapons and take the task upon ourselves?"
Edward's eyes gave ready response. What youths do not love the idea
of facing the foe, and outwitting the cowardly cunning of those who
have planned an attack upon a sleeping household? Paul thought he
had been right now in fancying the house watched; but probably the
hope of the watchers had rather been to find and carry off the girl
than to take vengeance upon himself. He understood it all now, and
was eager to defeat them a second time.
The nights were almost at their longest now, and the cold was very
great; but the watchers piled fresh logs upon the fire, and talked
quietly to each other as they sat in the dancing glow--for the
rushlight had long since gone out. Midnight had passed. All was
intensely still, and sleep seemed disposed to steal upon their
senses in spite of their resolution to banish his presence. Paul
was just about to suggest to his companion that he should lie down
awhile on the bed and indulge in a nap, whilst he himself kept
watch alone, when the prince laid a hand upon his arm, and gripped
him tight in a fashion which told that his quick ears had heard
something.
The next moment Paul heard the same himself--stealthy sounds as of
approaching footsteps, which paused beneath the window and then
seemed to steal round the house. It was useless to look out of the
window, for the night was dark as pitch, and they themselves might
be seen; but they glanced at each other, and Paul whispered
excitedly:
"It is to Mistress Joan's room they will find their way. I heard a
sound as though a ladder was being brought out. They will climb to
her window, force it open, and carry her away.
"Hark! that was the whinny of a horse. They are mounted, and think
to baffle pursuit by their speed and knowledge, of the wood. There
is no time to lose. Call up the farmer and his son. I know which is
Mistress Joan's room. I will keep guard there till you come."
Paul knew every inch of the house by heart; but Edward was less
familiar with its winding passages and crooked stairs. However, he
knew the position of the rooms occupied by the farmer and his son,
and groped his way thither; whilst Paul, with more certain step,
sped lightly along another passage toward the room in which he knew
Joan slept, not far from the serving wenches, but by no means near
the men of the place.
All seemed profoundly quiet as he moved through the sleeping house;
but he had scarce reached the door of the maiden's room before he
heard the sound of a startled, muffled cry.
In a second he had burst open the door and had sprung in. The sight
which met his gaze showed how truly he had guessed. The window was
open, and upon a ladder, with his body half in the room, was a
sooty-faced man, holding in his hand a flaring torch to light the
movements of his companion. This companion was already in the room;
he was in the very act of lifting from the bed the form of the
bride elect, who was so wrapped and smothered in the bed clothes
that she was unable either to cry aloud or to resist. Paul could
not see the face of the ruffian who was thus molesting her, and
knew not whether it was Simon Dowsett or another in his employ; but
he was disposed to think it was the captain himself, from the
stalwart proportions of his frame and the gigantic strength he
plainly possessed, of which he had heard so many stories told.
This man was so engrossed in his efforts of lifting and carrying
away the struggling girl that he did not know it was any voice but
that of his companion which had uttered the exclamation he had
heard; and Paul, seeing that his presence was undetected, rushed
straight across the room toward the window, grasped the ladder in
both hands, and before the astonished ruffian upon it had recovered
his surprise sufficiently to grapple with him, had flung the ladder
and its occupant bodily to the ground, where the man lay groaning
and swearing on the frost-bound stones beneath.
The torch had fallen within the room, and Paul snatched it up and
stuck it in a crevice of the boards, for he did not wish his other
adversary to escape in the darkness. The man had uttered a great
oath as he became aware that his occupation had been interrupted,
and dropping his burden upon the bed, he turned furiously upon his
opponent, so quickly and so fiercely that Paul had barely time to
draw his poniard and throw himself into an attitude of defence
before the man was upon him.
"You again!" he hissed between his teeth, as his well-directed
blows fell one after the other, taxing Paul's strength and agility
not a little in evading or diverting them. "Have I not enough
against you without this? Do you know that no man thwarts Devil's
Own who lives not bitterly to rue the day? I have your name down in
a certain book of mine, young man, and some day you will learn the
meaning of that word. If I kill you not now, it is but that I may
take a more terrible vengeance later. Let me pass, I say, or I may
lose patience and cleave your skull as you stand."
But Paul had no intention of letting this dangerous foe escape him.
He stood directly before the door, and barred the robber's way. It
might have gone ill with the lad in spite of his courage and
address, for he was but a stripling and the robber a man of
unwonted strength, and full of fury now at being thus balked; but
the sound of hurrying feet through the house toward the scene of
conflict told both the combatants that an end to the struggle was
approaching.
Paul shouted to them to take care the prey did not escape by way of
one of the many crooked stairways, with which doubtless he was
familiar enough; and he, seeing that all hope of escape through the
house was now at an end, and knowing that he should inevitably be
overpowered by numbers if he waited longer, suddenly sprang
backwards and rushed to the window. Although it was high above the
ground, and the stones below were both slippery and hard, he
vaulted out like a deer, landing on the prostrate body of his
companion, who received him with an execration and a groan; and as
Paul rushed after him, intensely chagrined at this unexpected
escape, he was only in time to see him dash off into the forest, or
rather to hear his steps crashing through the thicket, until the
sound of a horse's steady gallop showed that he was off and away.
The whole household was crowding into the room in various stages of
dishabille. The terrified Joan and the disappointed Paul had each
to tell their tale. But whilst the parents bent over their
daughter, soothing her terrors and calming her fears, Jack drew
toward Paul and his comrade, and said in low tones:
"Simon Dowsett is not a foe to be set at defiance. I would counsel
you to take horse with the first gleam of day, and gain another
parish or the protection of London, at least, before he has
recovered from his discomfiture. I say this not without regret, as
I would fain keep you over our feast today; but--"
The comrades exchanged glances, and spoke in one breath:
"We understand: you have spoken kindly and well," they said. "If
you can have the horses in readiness, we will ride off with the
first streak of dawn. It will be best so for all."
And though Joan Devenish and Will Ives were made man and wife that
very morning, Paul and the prince were not there to grace the
ceremony, but were far on their way to London.