If Arthur Lynwood felt desolate when he left his uncle's side, it was
not otherwise with Sir Eustace as he lost sight of the child, who had
so long been his charge, and who repaid his anxiety with such confiding
affection. The coveted fame, favour, and distinction seemed likewise
to have deserted him. The Prince's coldness hung heavily on him, and
as he cast his eyes along the ranks of familiar faces, not one friendly
look cheered him. His greetings were returned with coldness, and a
grave haughty courtesy was the sole welcome. Chafed and mortified, he
made a sign to Gaston, and they were soon in the street once more.
"Coward clown!" burst forth Gaston at once. "Would that I could send
all his grinning teeth down the false throat of him!"
"Whose? What mean you?"
"Whose but that sulky recreant, Ashton? He has done well to obtain
knighthood, or I would beat him within an inch of his life with my
halbert, and if he dared challenge me, slay him as I would a carrion
crown! He a Knight! Thanks to his acres and to Lord Pembroke!"
"Patience, patience, Gaston--I have not yet heard of what he accuses
me."
"No! he has learnt policy--he saith it not openly! He would deny it,
as did his Esquire when I taxed him with it! Would that you could not
tell a letter! Sir Eustace, of your favour let me burn every one of
your vile books."
"My innocent friends! Nay, nay, Gaston--they are too knightly to merit
such measure. Then it is the old accusation of witchcraft, I suppose.
So I was in league with the Castilian witch and her cats, was I?"
"Ay; and her broom-stick or her cats wafted you to Lynwood, where you
suddenly stood in the midst of the mourners, borne into the hall on a
howling blast! How I got there, I am sorry to say, the craven declared
not, lest I should give him the lie at once!"
"But surely, such a tale is too absurd and vulgar to deceive our noble
Prince."
"Oh, there is another version for his ears. This is only for the lower
sort, who might not have thought the worse of you for kidnapping your
nephew, vowing his mother should remain unburied till he was in your
hands, and carrying off all his rents."
"That is Clarenham's slander."
"Yes."
"And credited by the Prince? Oh! little did I think the hand which
laid knighthood on my shoulder should repent the boon that it gave!"
exclaimed Eustace, with a burst of sorrow rather than anger.
"Do you not challenge the traitor at once?"
"I trow not, unless he speaks the charge to my face. Father Cyril
declared that any outbreak on my part would damage our cause in the
eyes of the Chancellor; we must bide our time. Since Arthur is safe, I
will bear my own burden. I am guiltless in this matter, and I trust
that the blessing of Heaven on my deeds shall restore a name, obscured,
but not tarnished."
The resolution to forbear was tested, for time passed on without
vindicating him. With such art had the toils of his enemies been
spread, that no opening was left him for demanding an explanation. The
calumnies could only be brought home to the lowest retainers of
Clarenham and Ashton, and the only result of the zealous refutation by
the followers of Sir Eustace was a brawl between John Ingram and a
yeoman of Clarenham's, ending in their spending a week in the custody
of the Provost Marshal.
Had there been any tournament or like sport at Bordeaux, Eustace could
have asserted his place, and challenged the attention of the court; but
the state of the Prince's health prevented such spectacles; nor had he
any opportunity of acquiring honour by his deeds in arms. No army took
the field on either side, and the war was chiefly carried on by
expeditions for the siege or relief of frontier castles; and here his
unusual rank as Knight Banneret stood in his way, since it was contrary
to etiquette for him to put himself under the command of a Knight
Bachelor. He was condemned therefore to a weary life of inaction, the
more galling, because his poverty made it necessary to seek maintenance
as formerly at the Prince's table, where he was daily reminded, by the
altered demeanour of his acquaintance, of the unjust suspicions beneath
which he laboured. He had hoped that a dismissal from his post in the
Prince's band would give him the much-desired opportunity of claiming a
hearing, but he was permitted to receive his pay and allowance as
usual, and seemed completely overlooked. It was well that Gaston's gay
temper could not easily be saddened by their circumstances, and his
high spirits and constant attachment often cheered his Knight in their
lonely evenings. Eustace had more than once striven to persuade him to
forsake his failing fortunes; but to this the faithful Squire would
never consent, vowing that he was as deeply implicated in all their
accusations as Sir Eustace himself; and who would wish to engage a
fellow-servant of the black cats! There were two others whom Eustace
would fain believe still confided in his truth and honour, his nephew
Arthur, and Lady Agnes de Clarenham; but he never saw them, and often
his heart sank at the thought of the impression that the universal
belief might make on the minds of both. And to add to his depression,
a rumour prevailed throughout Bordeaux that the Baron of Clarenham had
promised his sister's hand to Sir Leonard Ashton.
Nearly a year had passed since Eustace had left England, and his
situation continued unchanged. Perhaps the Prince regarded him with
additional displeasure, since news had arrived that Sir Richard Ferrars
had made application to the Duke of Lancaster to interest the King in
the cause of the guardianship; for there was, at this time, a strong
jealousy, in the mind of the Prince, of the mighty power and influence
of John of Gaunt, which he already feared might be used to the
disadvantage of his young sons.
The cause was, at length, decided, and a letter from good Father Cyril
conveyed to Eustace the intelligence that the Chancellor, William of
Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, having given due weight to Sir
Reginald's dying words and Lady Lynwood's testament, had pronounced Sir
Eustace Lynwood the sole guardian of the person and estate of his
nephew, and authorized all the arrangements he had made on his
departure.
Affairs altogether began to wear a brighter aspect. The first
indignation against Sir Eustace had subsided, and he was treated, in
general, with indifference rather than marked scorn. The gallant old
Chandos was again on better terms with the Prince, and, coming to
Bordeaux, made two or three expeditions, in which Eustace volunteered
to join, and gained some favourable, though slight, notice from the old
Knight. Fulk Clarenham, too, having received from the Prince the
government of Perigord, was seldom at court, and no active enemy
appeared to be at work against him.
Agnes de Clarenham, always retiring and pensive, and seldom sought out
by those who admired gayer damsels, was sitting apart in the embrasure
of a window, whence, through an opening in the trees of the garden, she
could catch a distant glimpse of the blue waters of the river where it
joined the sea, which separated her from her native land, and from her
who had ever been as a mother to her. She was so lost in thought, that
she scarce heard a step approaching, till the unwelcome sound of "Fair
greeting to you, Lady Agnes" caused her to look up and behold the still
more unwelcome form of Sir Leonard Ashton. To escape from him was the
first idea, for his clownish manners, always unpleasant to her, had
become doubly so, since he had presumed upon her brother's favour to
offer to her addresses from which she saw no escape; and with a brief
reply of "Thanks for your courtesy, Sir Knight," she was about to rise
and mingle with the rest of the party, when he proceeded, bluntly,
"Lady Agnes, will you do me a favour?"
"I know of no favour in my power," said she.
"Nay," he said, "it is easily done, and it is as much to your brother
as to myself. It is a letter which, methinks, Fulk would not have read
out of the family, of which I may call myself one," and he gave a sort
of smirk at Agnes;--"but he writes so crabbedly, that I, for one,
cannot read two lines,--and I would not willingly give it to a clerk,
who might be less secret. So methought, as 'twas the Baron's affair, I
would even bring it here, and profit by your Convent-breeding, Lady
Agnes."
Agnes took the letter, and began to read:--
"For the hand of the Right Noble and Worshipful Knight, Sir
Leonard Ashton, at the court of my Lord the Prince of Wales,
these:--
"Fair Sir, and brother-in-arms--I hereby do you to wit, that the
affair whereof we spoke goes well. Both my Lord of Pembroke,
and Sir John Chandos, readily undertook to move the Prince to
grant the Banneret you wot of the government of the Castle, and
as he hath never forgotten the love he once bore to his brother,
he will the more easily be persuaded. Of the garrison we are
sure, and all that is now needful is, that the one-eyed Squire,
whereof you spoke to me, should receive warning before he
arrives at the Castle.
"Tell him to choose his time, and manage matters so that there
may be no putting to ransom. He will understand my meaning.
"Greeting you well, therefore,
"Fulk, Baron of Clarenham."
"What means this?" exclaimed Agnes, as a tissue of treachery opened
before her eyes.
"Ay, that you may say," said Leonard, his slow brain only fixed upon
Fulk's involved sentences, and utterly unconscious of the horror
expressed in her tone. "How is a man to understand what he would have
me to do? Send to Le Borgne Basque at Chateau Norbelle? Is that it?
Read it to me once again, Lady, for the love of the Saints. What am I
to tell Le Borgne Basque? No putting to ransom, doth he say? He might
be secure enough for that matter--Eustace Lynwood is little like to
ransom himself."
"But what mean you?" said Agnes, eagerly hoping that she had done her
brother injustice in her first horrible thought. "Sir Eustace Lynwood,
if you spake of him, is no prisoner, but is here at Bordeaux."
"He shall not long be so," said Leonard. "Heard you not this very noon
that the Prince bestows on him the government of Chateau Norbelle on
the marches of Gascony? Well, that is the matter treated of in this
letter. Let me see, let me see, how was it to be? Yes, that is it!
It is Le Borgne Basque who is Seneschal. Ay, true, that I know,--and
'twas he who was to admit Clisson's men."
"Admit Clisson's men!"
"Ay--'tis one of those Castles built by the old Paladin, Renaud de
Montauban, that Eustace used to talk about. I ween he did not know of
this trick that will be played on himself--and all of them have, they
say, certain secret passages leading through the vaults into the
Castle. Le Borgne Basque knows them all, for he has served much in
those parts, and Fulk placed him as Seneschal for the very purpose."
"For the purpose of admitting Clisson's men? Do I understand you
right, Sir Knight, or do my ears play me false?"
"Yes, I speak right. Do you not see, Lady Agnes, it is the only way to
free your house of this stumbling-block--this beggarly upstart
Eustace--who, as long as he lives, will never acknowledge Fulk's
rights, and would bring up his nephew to the same pride."
"And is it possible, Sir Leonard, that brother of mine, and belted
Knight, should devise so foul a scheme of treachery! Oh, unsay it
again! Let me believe it was my own folly that conjured up so
monstrous a thought!"
"Ay, that is the way with women," said Leonard; "they never look at the
sense of the matter. Why, this Eustace, what terms should be kept with
him, who has dealings with the Evil One? and--"
"I will neither hear a noble Knight maligned, nor suffer him to be
betrayed," interrupted Agnes. "I have listened to you too long, Sir
Leonard Ashton, and will stain my ears no longer. I thank you,
however, for having given me such warning as to enable me to traverse
them."
"What will you do?" asked Leonard, with a look of impotent anger.
"Appeal instantly to the Prince. Tell him the use that is made of his
Castles, and the falsehoods told him of his most true-hearted Knight!"
and Agnes, with glancing eyes, was already rising for the purpose,
forgetting, in her eager indignation, all that must follow, when
Leonard, muttering "What madness possessed me to tell her!" stood full
before her, saying, gloomily, "Do so, Lady, if you choose to ruin your
brother!" The timid girl stood appalled, as the horrible consequences
of such an accusation arose before her.
That same day Eustace was summoned to the Prince's presence.
"Sir Eustace Lynwood," said Edward, gravely, "I hear you have served
the King well beneath the banner of Sir John Chandos. Your friends
have wrought with me to give you occasion to prove yourself worthy of
your spurs, and I have determined to confer on you the government of my
Chateau of Norbelle, on the frontier of Gascony, trusting to find you a
true and faithful governor and Castellane."
"I trust, my Lord, that you have never had occasion to deem less
honourably of me," said Eustace; and his clear open eye and brow
courted rather than shunned the keen look of scrutiny that the Prince
fixed upon him. His heart leapt at the hope that the time for inquiry
was come, but the Prince in another moment sank his eyes again, with
more, however, of the weary impatience of illness than of actual
displeasure, and merely replied, "Kneel down, then, Sir Knight, and
take the oaths of fidelity."
Eustace obeyed, hardly able to suppress a sigh at the disappointment of
his hopes.
"You will receive the necessary orders and supplies from Sir John
Chandos, and from the Treasurer," said Edward, in a tone that intimated
the conclusion of the conference; and Eustace quitted his presence,
scarce knowing whether to be rejoiced or dissatisfied.
The former, Gaston certainly was. "I have often been heartily weary of
garrison duty," said he, "but never can I be more weary of aught, than
of being looked upon askance by half the men I meet. And we may
sometimes hear the lark sing too, as well as the mouse squeak, Sir
Eustace. I know every pass of my native county, and the herds of
Languedoc shall pay toll to us."
Sir John Chandos, as Constable of Aquitaine, gave him the requisite
orders and information. The fortifications, he said, were in good
condition, and the garrison already numerous; but a sum of money was
allotted to him in order to increase their numbers as much as he should
deem advisable, since it was not improbable that he might have to
sustain a siege, as Oliver de Clisson was threatening that part of the
frontier. Four days were allowed for his preparations, after which he
was to depart for his government.
Eustace was well pleased with all that he heard, and returned to his
lodging, where, in the evening twilight, he was deeply engaged in
consultation with Gaston, on the number of followers to be raised, when
a light step was heard hastily approaching, and Arthur, darting into
the room, flung himself on his neck, exclaiming, "Uncle! uncle! go not
to this Castle!"
"Arthur, what brings you here? What means this? No foolish frolic, no
escape from punishment, I trust?" said Eustace, holding him at some
little distance, and fixing his eyes on him intently.
"No, uncle, no! On the word of a true Knight's son," said the boy,
stammering, in his eagerness, "believe me, trust me, dear uncle--and go
not to this fearful Castle. It is a trap--a snare laid to be your
death, by the foulest treachery!"
"Silence, Arthur!" said the Knight, sternly. "Know you not what
treason you speak? Some trick has been played on your simplicity, and
yet you--child as you are--should as soon think shame of your own
father as of the Prince, the very soul of honour."
"Oh, it is not the Prince: he knows nought of it; it is those double
traitors, the Baron of Clarenham and Sir Leonard Ashton, who have
worked upon him and deceived him."
"Oh, ho!" said Gaston. "The story now begins to wear some semblance of
probability."
Arthur turned, looking perplexed. "Master d'Aubricour," said he, "I
forgot that you were here. This is a secret which should have been for
my uncle's ears alone."
"Is it so?" said Gaston; "then I will leave the room, if it please you
and the Knight--though methought I was scarce small enough to be so
easily overlooked; and having heard the half--"
"You had best hear the whole," said Arthur. "Uncle Eustace, what think
you?"
"I know not what to think, Arthur. You must be your own judge."
Arthur's young brow wore a look of deep thought; at last he said, "Do
not go then, Gaston. If I have done wrong, I must bear the blame, and,
be it as it may, my uncle needs must tell you all that I may tell him."
"Let us hear, then," said Eustace.
"Well, then," said Arthur, who had by this time collected himself, "you
must know that this Chateau Norbelle is one of those built by that
famous Paladin, the chief of freebooters, Sir Renaud de Montauban, of
whom you have told me so many tales. Now all of these have secret
passages in the vaults communicating with the outer country."
"The boy is right," said Gaston; "I have seen one of them in the Castle
of Montauban itself."
"Then it seems," proceeded Arthur, "that this Castle hath hitherto been
in the keeping of a certain one-eyed Seneschal, a great friend and
comrade of Sir Leonard Ashton--"
"Le Borgne Basque!" exclaimed both Knight and Squire, looking at each
other in amaze.
"True, true," said Arthur. "Now you believe me. Well, the enemy being
in the neighbourhood, it was thought right to increase the garrison,
and place it under the command of a Knight, and these cowardly traitors
have wrought with my Lord of Pembroke and Sir John Chandos to induce
the Prince to give you this post--it being their intention that this
wicked Seneschal and his equally wicked garrison should admit Sir
Oliver de Clisson, the butcher of Bretagne himself, through the secret
passage. And, uncle," said the boy, pressing Eustace's hand, while
tears of indignation sprang to his eyes, "the letter expressly said
there was to be no putting to ransom. Oh, Uncle Eustace, go not to
this Castle!"
"And how came you by this knowledge?" asked the Knight.
"That I may never tell," said Arthur.
"By no means which might not beseem the son of a brave man?" said
Eustace.
"Mistrust me not so foully," said the boy. "I know it from a sure
hand, and there is not dishonour, save on the part of those villain
traitors. Oh, promise me, fair uncle, not to put yourself in their
hands!"
"Arthur, I have taken the oaths to the Prince as Castellane. I cannot
go back from my duty, nor give up its defence for any cause whatsoever."
"Alas! alas!"
"There would be only one way of avoiding it," said Eustace, "and you
must yourself say, Arthur, whether that is open to me. To go to the
Prince, and tell him openly what use is made of his Castles, and
impeach the villains of their treachery."
"That cannot be," said Arthur, shaking his head sadly--"it is contrary
to the pledge I gave for you and for myself. But go not, go not,
uncle. Remember, uncle, if you will not take thought for yourself,
that you are all that is left me--all that stands between me and that
wicked Clarenham.--Gaston, persuade him."
"Gaston would never persuade me to disgrace my spurs for the sake of
danger," replied Eustace. "Have you no better learnt the laws of
chivalry in the Prince's household, Arthur? Besides, remember old
Ralph's proverb, 'Fore-warned is fore-armed.' Think you not that
Gaston, and honest Ingram, and I may not be a match for a dozen
cowardly traitors? Besides which, see here the gold allotted me to
raise more men, with which I will obtain some honest hearts for my
defence--and it will go hard with me if I cannot find Sir Renaud's
secret door."
"Then, if you will go, uncle, take, take me with you--I could, at
least, watch the door; and I know how to hit a mark with a cross-bow as
well as Lord Harry of Lancaster himself."
"Take you, Master Arthur? What! steal away the Prince's page that I
have been at such pains to bring hither, and carry him to a nest of
traitors! Why, it would be the very way to justify Clarenham's own
falsehoods."
"And of the blackest are they!" said Arthur. "Think, uncle, of my
standing by to hear him breathing his poison to the Prince, and the
preventing him from searching to find out the truth, by pretending a
regard for my father's name, and your character. Oh that our noble
Prince should be deluded by such a recreant, and think scorn of such a
Knight as you!"
"I trust yet to prove to him that it is a delusion," said Eustace.
"Many a Knight at twenty-two has yet to make his name and fame. Mine,
thanks to Du Guesclin and the Prince himself, is already made, and
though clouded for a time, with the grace of our Lady and of St.
Eustace, I will yet clear it; so, Arthur, be not downcast for me, but
think what Father Cyril hath taught concerning evil report and good
report. But tell me, how came you hither?"
"She--that is, the person that warned me--let me down from the window
upon the head of the great gurgoyle, and from thence I scrambled down
by the vines on the wall, ran through the court without being seen by
the Squires and grooms, and found my way to the bridge, where happily I
met John Ingram, who brought me hither."
"She?" repeated Gaston, with a sly look in his black eyes.
"I have said too much," said Arthur, colouring deeply; "I pray you to
forget."
"Forget!" proceeded the Squire, "that is sooner said than done. We
shall rack our brains to guess what lady can--"
"Hush, Gaston," said Eustace, as his nephew looked at him imploringly,
"tempt not the boy. And you, Arthur, must return to the palace
immediately."
"Oh, uncle!" said the boy, "may I not stay with you this one night? It
is eight weary months since I have ever seen you, save by peering down
through the tall balusters of the Princess's balcony, when the Knights
were going to dinner in the hall, and I hoped you would keep me with
you at least one night. See how late and dark it is--the Castle gates
will be closed by this time."
"It does indeed rejoice my heart to have you beside me, fair nephew,"
said Eustace, "and yet I know not how to favour such an escape as this,
even for such a cause."
"I never broke out of bounds before," said Arthur, "and never will,
though Lord Harry and Lord Thomas Holland have more than once asked me
to join them."
"Then," said the Knight, "since it is, as you say, too late to rouse
the palace, I will take you back in my hand to-morrow morn, see the
master of the Damoiseaux, and pray him to excuse you for coming to see
me ere my departure."
"Yes, that will be all well," said Arthur; "I could, to be sure, find
the corner where Lord Harry has loosened the stones, and get in by the
pages' window, ere old Master Michael is awake in the morn; but I think
such doings are more like those of a fox than of a brave boy, and
though I should be well punished, I will walk in at the door, and hold
up my head boldly."
"Shall you be punished then?" said Gaston. "Is your old master of the
Damoiseaux very severe?"
"He has not been so hitherto with me," said Arthur: "he scolds me for
little, save what you too are displeased with, Master d'Aubricour,
because I cannot bring my mouth to speak your language in your own
fashion. It is Lord Harry that chiefly falls under his displeasure.
But punished now I shall assuredly be, unless Uncle Eustace can work
wonders."
"I will see what may be done, Arthur," said Eustace. "And now, have
you supped?"
The evening passed off very happily to the little page, who, quite
reassured by his uncle's consolations, only thought of the delight of
being with one who seemed to supply to him the place at once of an
elder brother and of a father.
Early the next morning, Eustace walked with him to the palace. Just
before he reached it, he made this inquiry, "Arthur, do you often see
the Lady Agnes de Clarenham?"
"Oh, yes, I am with her almost every afternoon. She hears me read, she
helps me with my French words, and teaches me courtly manners. I am her
own page and servant--but, here we are. This is the door that leads to
the room of Master Michael de Sancy, the master of the Damoiseaux."