"Then you must pinch him," said little Roger. "Nip him well--be not
afeard."
Constance, extremely amused, acted on this recommendation also. Edmund
gave another growl.
"Nay, then you must needs slap him!" was the third piece of advice
given.
Constance laughingly suggested that the child should do it for her.
Little Roger jumped up, boxed his brother's ears in a decided manner,
and finally, burying his small hands in Edmund's light curly hair, gave
him a dose of sensation which would have roused a dormouse.
"Is he in this wise every morrow?" asked Constance.
"Master Gaoler bringeth alway a wet mop," said little Roger
confidentially. "Wake up, Nym! If thou fallest to sleep again, I must
tweak thee by the nose!"
This terrible threat seemed to be nearly as effectual as the mop.
Edmund stretched himself lazily, and in very sleepy accents desired to
know what his brother could possibly mean by such wanton cruelty.
"Where is thy breeding, churl, to use such thewis [manners] with a
lady?" demanded little Roger in a scandalised voice.
"Lady!--where is one?" murmured Edmund, whose eyes were still shut.
"Methinks thou art roused now, Nym," said Constance. "But when thou
shalt be a knight, I pity thy squire. Haste, lad, rise and busk thee in
silence, but make as good speed as ever thou canst Roger, see he turneth
not back to sleep. I go to thy sisters."
"Nay, but he will, an' you pluck him not out of bed!" said little Roger,
who evidently felt himself unfit to cope with the emergency.
"Thou canst wring him by the nose, then," said Constance, laughing.
"Come, Nym! turn out--quick!" Edmund turned over on his face, buried it
in the pillow, and tacitly intimated that to get up at the present
moment was an impossibility.
"He'll have another nap!" said little Roger, in the mournful tone of a
prophet who foresaw the speedy accomplishment of his tragical
predictions.
"But he must not!" exclaimed Constance, returning. "Then you must pluck
him out, and set him on the floor," repeated little Roger earnestly.
"'Twill be all I can do to let him to [hinder him from] get in again
then--without you clap his chaucers [slippers] about his ears," he added
meditatively, as if this expedient might possibly answer.
Constance took the future master of England by his shoulders, and pulled
him out of bed without any further quarter. The monarch elect grumbled
exceedingly, but in so inarticulate a style that very little could be
understood.
"Now, Nym!" said Constance warningly to her refractory and dilatory
nephew, "if thou get into bed again, we will leave thee behind, and
crown Roger, that is worth ten of thee. By my Lady Saint Mary! a pretty
King thou wilt make!"
"Eh?" inquired Edmund, brightening up. "Let be. Go on and busk thee.
Roger! if he is not speedy, come to the door and say it."
Constance went back to the girls. She found Anne nearly ready, but
Alianora, who apparently shared the indolent disposition of her elder
brother, was dressing in the most deliberate manner, though Maude and
Anne were both hastening her as much as they could.
"Now, Nell!" said Constance, employing the weapon which had proved
useful with Edmund, "if thou make not good speed, we will leave thee
behind."
"Well, what if so?" demanded Alianora coolly, tying a string in the most
leisurely style.
"If I have not as great a mind to leave you both behind!"--cried
Constance in an annoyed tone. "I will bear away Nan and Roger, and wash
mine hands of you!"
"Please, I'm ready!" announced little Roger in a whisper through the
crack of the door, in an incredibly short space of time.
"Why wert thou not the firstborn?" exclaimed the Princess. "I would
thou hadst been! What is Nym about?"
"Combing his hair," said Roger, glancing back at him, "and hath been
this never so long."
Constance dashed back into the room with one of her quick, impulsive
movements, snatched the comb from his dilatory young Majesty, smoothed
his hair in a second, ordered him to wash his hands, and to put on his
gown and tunic, and stood over him while he did it.
"The saints have mercy on thee, Nym, and send thee a wise council!" said
she, half in earnest and half in jest. "The whole realm will go to
sleep else."
"Well, they might do worser," responded Edmund calmly.
The two sluggards were ready at last, but not before Constance had lost
her temper, and had noticed the unruffled endurance of Anne.
"Why, Nan, thou hast patience enough!" she said.
"I have had need these seven years," answered the maiden quietly.
"Now, Maude, take thou Lord Roger by the hand; and Nan, take thy sister.
Nym, thou comest with me. Lead on, Sir Bertram; and mind all of you--
no bruit, not enough to wake a mouse!"
"It would not wake Nym, then!" said little Roger.
They crept down the stairs of the Beauchamp Tower as slowly and
cautiously as they had come. Down to the little postern gate, left
unguarded by the careless sentinel, who was carousing with his fellows
on another side of the Castle; out and away to the still glade in
Windsor Forest, where Maydeston stood waiting with the horses, all
fitted with pillion and saddle.
"Here come we, Maydeston!" exclaimed Bertram. "Now, Madam, an' it like
your Grace to mount with help of Master Maydeston, will it list you that
I ride afore?"
For it was little short of absolute necessity that the gentleman should
be seated on his saddle before the lady mounted the pillion.
"Nay--the King that shall be, the first!" said Constance.
Bertram bowed and apologised. He was always in the habit of giving
precedence to his mistress, and he really had forgotten for a moment
that the somnolent Nym was to be regarded as his Sovereign. So his
future Majesty, with Bertram's assistance, mounted the bay charger, and
his sister Alianora was placed on the pillion behind him.
The next horse was mounted by Constance, with Bertram before her; the
third by little Roger, very proud of his position, with Maude set on the
pillion in charge of her small cavalier, and the bridle firmly tied to
Bertram's saddle. Last came Maydeston and Anne. They were just ready
to start when Constance broke into a peal of merry laughter.
"I do but laugh to think of Eva's face, when she shall find neither thee
nor me," she said to Maude, "and likewise his Highness' gaolers, waking
up to an empty cage where the little birds should be."
Maude's heart was too heavy and anxious about the issue of the adventure
to enable her to reply lightly.
Through the most unfrequented bridle-paths they crept slowly on, till
first Windsor, and then Eton, was left behind. They were about two
miles beyond Eton, when a hand was suddenly laid on Constance's bridle,
and the summons to "Stand and deliver!" jestingly uttered in a familiar
and most welcome voice.
"Ha, Dickon! right glad am I to hear thee!" cried his sister.
"Is all well, Custance?"
"Sweet as Spanish must [new wine]. But where is Ned?"
"Within earshot, fair Sister," said Edward's equally well-known and
deeper tones. "Methinks a somewhat other settlement should serve better
for quick riding, though thine were well enough to creep withal. Sir
Bertram, I pray you alight--you shall ride with your dame, and I with
the Lady Countess. Can you set the Lord Roger afore? Good! then so do.
Lord Sele! I pray you to squire the Lady Alianora's Grace. His
Highness will ride single, as shall be more to his pleasure. Now,
Dickon, I am right sorry to trouble thee, but mefeareth I must needs set
thee to squire the Lady Anne."
Semi-sarcastic speeches of this kind were usually Edward's nearest
approach to fun. The fresh arrangement was made as he suggested; and
though little Roger would not have acknowledged it publicly on any
consideration, yet privately he felt the change in his position a
relief. Lord Richard of Conisborough was the last of the illustrious
persons to mount, and his squire helped Anne Mortimer to spring to her
place behind him. The only notice which Richard outwardly took of her
was to say, as he glanced behind him--
"We ride now at quick gallop; clasp me close, Lady Anne."
They were off as soon as he had spoken--at such a gallop as Anne had
never ridden in all her life. But she felt no fear, for the one person
in the world whom she trusted implicitly was he who sat before her.
During part of the way, they followed the same route which Le Despenser
and Bertram had taken five years before; and Bertram found a painful
interest in pointing out to Maude the different spots where the
incidents of the journey had happened. Meanwhile a dialogue was passing
between Edward and Constance which the former had expected, and had made
his arrangements for the journey with the special view that her queries
on that topic should be answered by no one but himself.
"Ned, hast seen my Lord?"
"But once sithence I saw thee."
"How is it with him?"
"Passing well, for aught I know."
"Thou didst him to wit of all this matter?"
"Said I not that I so would?"
"But didst thou?" she repeated, noting the evasion.
"I did so."
In saying which, Edward told a deliberate falsehood.
"And when will he be at Cardiff?"
"When the wind bloweth him thither," said the Duke drily.
"Now, Ned!"
"Nay, Custance--what know I more than thou? The winds be no squires of
mine."
"But he will come with speed?"
"No doubt."
"Sent he no word unto me?"
"Oh, ay--an hogshead full!"
"Ned, thou caitiff! [miserable wretch]--what were they?"
"Stuff and folly."
"Thou unassoiled villain, tell me them this minute, or--"
"Thou wilt drop from the pillion? By all means, an' it so like thee. I
shall but be left where I am."
"Ned! I will nip thee like a pasty, an' thou torment me thus."
"Forsooth, Custance, I charged no memory of mine with such drastis,"
[dross, rubbish].
"Drastis!"
"I cry thee mercy--cates [delicates, good things] and honey, if thou
wilt have it so. 'Twas all froth and thistle-down."
"I have done, Ned. I will not speak to thee again this month."
"And wilt keep that resolve--ten minutes? By 'r Lady, I am no squire of
dames, Custance. Prithee, burden not me with an heap of fond glose,"
[foolish flattery].
"By Saint Mary her hosen, but I would my Lord had chosen a better
messenger!"
Constance was really vexed. Edward himself was in a little difficulty,
for he had only been amusing himself with his sister's anxieties. In
reality, he was charged with no message, and he did not want the trouble
of devising one suitable to Kent's character.
"By Saint Mary her galoches," [loose over-shoes], he said jocularly,
"what wouldst have of me, Custance? I cannot carry love-letters in mine
head."
"But canst not tell me one word?"
Edward would have given a manor if she would have been quiet, or would
have passed to some other topic. But he said--
"Lo' you, Custance! I cannot gallop and talk."
"Hast found that out but now?" was the ironical response.
"Well, if thou must needs have a word," replied he testily, "he said he
loved thee better than all the world. Will that do?"
"Ay, that shall serve," said Constance in a low voice.
So it might have done--had it been true.
There was silence for half an hour; when Edward said in his gravest
tone--
"Custance! I would fain have thee hearken me."
"For a flyting?" demanded his sister in a tone which was not at all
grave. "Thy voice hath sound solemn enough for a justiciary."
"_Ninerias_ [nonsense], Custance! I speak in sober earnest."
"Say on, my Lord Judge!"
"When I have seen thee in safety, I look to turn back to the Court."
"Sweet welcome thou shalt find there!"
"Maybe--if I scale yet again the walls of Eltham Palace, where the King
now abideth--as I sought in vain to do this last Christmas."
"Scale the walls!--What to do, Ned?"
"What thinkest, Custance?"
"Ned! surely thou meanest not to take the King's life? caitiff though he
be!"
"Nay," said Edward slowly; "scantly that, Custance--without I were
forced thereto. It might be enough to seize him and lock him up, as he
did to our Lord, King Richard."
"I will have no hand in murder, caitiff!"
Constance spoke too sternly to be disregarded. And it was in her nature
to have turned back to Windsor that moment, had she been left without
reassurance that all would go right.
"Softly, fair Sister!--who spake of so horrid a thing? Most assuredly I
mean no such, nor have any intent thereto."
"Scale walls at thy pleasure," she said in a calmer tone, "and lock
Harry of Bolingbroke under forty keys if thou list: I will not let thee.
But no blood, Ned, or I leave thee and thy gear this minute."
"Fair sister Custance, never had I no such intent, by All Hallows!"
"Have a care!" she said warningly.
After that they galloped in silence.
The journey went on till the Welsh Marches were reached, of which the
Earl of March was lord. Edmund began to hold his head higher, for he
knew that the Welsh loyalists were ready to welcome him as King. Little
Roger innocently asked if he would be Prince of Wales when his brother
was King of England; because in that case, he would pull down some of
the big hills which it took so long to climb. At last only one day's
march lay between them and the Principality.
And on that morning Edward left them. Constance could not understand
why he did not go with them to Cardiff. He was determined not to do so;
and to the disappointment of every one, he induced his brother to
accompany him. Richard would rather have stayed; but he had been too
long accustomed to obey the stronger will of his brother to begin the
assertion of his own. The yielding character which he had inherited
from his father prevailed; and however unwillingly, he followed Edward.
On the morning of that last day's march, they had to traverse a narrow
rocky pass. The path, though rough and stony, was tolerably level; and
feeling themselves almost safe, they slackened their pace. They had
just been laughing at some remark of little Roger's, and they were all
in more or less good spirits, feeling so near the end of their perilous
journey; when all at once, in a turn of the pass, the leading horse came
to a sudden halt.
"Stand, in the King's name!"
Before them was a small, compact body of cavalry; and at their head,
resplendent in official ermine, Sir William Hankeford, Judge of the
King's Bench.
Resistance and flight were equally impossible. Constance addressed
herself to the old man whom she had cheated five years before, and who,
having subsequently discovered her craftiness, had by no means forgotten
it.
"Sir William, you will do your commission; but I pray you remember that
here be five of the King your master's cousins, and we claim to be used
as such."
The old Judge's eyes twinkled as he surveyed the royal lady.
"So, Madam! Your Ladyship hath the right: my commission I shall do, and
set the King my master's cousins in safe keeping--with a chimney-board
clapped to the louvre," [chimney].
Constance fairly laughed.
"Come, Sir, I should scantly play the same trick on you twice."
"No, Madam, I will have a care you no do."
"And for what look we, Sir William? May we know?"
"Madam," said Hankeford drily, "you may look for what you shall find,
and you may know so much as you be told."
"We may bid farewell, trow?"
"So it lie not over too much time."
"Well! needs must, Nym," said Constance, turning to the boy who had so
nearly worn the crown of England. "And after all, belike, it shall be
worser for me than thee."
"Nym won't care," spoke up little Roger boldly, "if my master yonder
will let him lie till seven of the clock of a morrow."
"Till nine, if it like him," said Sir William.
"Then he'll be as happy as a king!" added little Roger.
"Nay, you be all too young to care overmuch--save Nan," responded
Constance, looking at Anne's white troubled face. "Poor maid! 'tis hard
for thee."
"I can bear what God sendeth, Madam," said Anne in a low voice.
"Well said, brave heart!" answered Constance, only half understanding
her. "The blessed saints aid thee so to do!--Now, Sir William, dispose
of us."
Hankeford obeyed the intimation by separating them into two bands.
Constance, Bertram, and Maude, he placed in the care of Elmingo Leget,
an old servant of the Crown, with orders to conduct them direct to
London, where Constance guessed that she at least was to undergo trial.
The four young Mortimers he took into his own charge, but declined to
say what he was going to do with them. The three officers of the Duke
of York were desired to return to their master, the old Judge cynically
adding that they could please themselves whether they told him of the
recapture or not; while Maydeston was as cynically informed that Sir
William saw no sufficient reason wherefore the King's Grace should be at
the charges of his journey home, but that he might ride in the company
if he listed to pay for the lodgings of his beast and his carcase. To
which most elegant intimation Maydeston replied that he was ready to pay
his own expenses without troubling his Majesty, and that he did prefer
to keep his master company.
So the little group of friends were parted, and Constance began her
return journey to London as a prisoner of state.
But what was happening at Cardiff? And where was the Earl of Kent?
We shall see both in the next chapter.