Richard had seated himself, and taken up a paper from the table, which
he was perusing attentively, when Lord Fulmer entered. He laid down
the letter instantly, however, and gave the young nobleman the most
flattering reception.
"This is kind indeed, my lord," he said, extending his hand to him. "I
did not think the journey could have been performed so quickly. It
shows that you look upon the king's service as paramount indeed, when
you can quit your lady love thus, at a moment's notice, to render him
assistance."
Unwittingly the monarch touched upon a tender point, as the reader is
aware, and Fulmer felt in painfully. A cloud came upon his brow; and
he replied, somewhat coldly, that he was always ready to serve the
king.
"So, so," thought Richard, who was a great master of looks, and a
great observer of them, "this young man is moody. I suppose my
messenger arrived just in time. We must put a stop to this."
"I am glad to hear it is so, my lord," he said aloud, in a somewhat
proud and kingly tone; "for while we can, as you know, curb with a
strong hand the turbulent and the rebellious, we are ever willing to
shower honours and rewards upon those who serve us zealously and
faithfully."
"The only reward I desire, your grace," replied Fulmer, "is your kind
permission to complete my marriage with the Lady Iola St. Leger as
speedily as may be. I and my family have ever been faithful servants
to the house of York. We have never changed our faction; and to your
grace's person you know I am attached. I trust then that I may have
your permission."
"Ay, and much more," answered Richard. "There are intentions in my
bosom towards you, and my good Lord Calverly, which need not be
mentioned; but they will bear fruit--they will bear fruit;" and he
nodded his head significantly. "As soon as this expedition is over, on
which I would have you go,--I mean into Dorsetshire, to guard the
coast there for a few days, and put down the turbulent spirit of the
people in those parts, your marriage shall take place."
"May it not take place as I go thither, sire?" asked Fulmer, with an
impatient tone. "I must have a day or two for preparation. 'Tis but
the last ceremonies of the church are wanting; and I know that I shall
have Lord Calverly's good will. I will set off immediately, when she
is my own.
"What," exclaimed Richard, "has not my Lord Calverly told you that we
propose to be present ourselves? He concealed it from you, to make it
a pleasant surprise. No, no, this business admits of no delay. These
turbulent peasants must be put down, before their discontent becomes
dangerous; and you must away at once."
"May I speak plainly to your grace?" demanded Fulmer.
Richard bowed his head gravely; and the other went on, in a somewhat
mortified tone.
"In quitting Chidlow castle now, for your grace's service," he said,
"I leave a somewhat dangerous rival with my promised bride."
"A rival!" said Richard. "Who may that be? I thought she was
contracted to you."
"It is so, sire," answered Fulmer; "but we all know that no contracts
are held very valid, by some men, against the power of love."
"My brother Edward thought so," answered Richard, with a sarcastic
turn of the lip. "Who may this rival be, I say?"
"No other than the Lord Chartley," answered Fulmer, "whom your grace
has placed in ward with the lady's uncle."
"What, that gay youth again!" exclaimed Richard, with a laugh. "By my
faith he meets us at every turn. But he shall be looked to--make your
mind easy--he shall be looked to. Only serve us faithfully and well,
and the lady's hand shall be yours, whoever may gainsay it."
"Her hand were of little value to me, my good lord and sovereign,"
replied Fulmer, boldly, "if her heart be given to another."
"Her heart!" said Richard, with one of those low, cold, withering
laughs, so painful to an enthusiastic mind; "well, well, be you easy,
this gay fisherman of hearts, this Chartley, shall be removed in a
week or two, to some other place."
Fulmer was just in the act of muttering to himself--"In a week or
two!" when the door of the cabinet was opened; and a gentleman in
dusty apparel entered.
"They bade me come in, sire," he said, in a blunt tone, "though the
news I bear is not a fair exchange for a gracious welcome. The earl of
Oxford, with some other gentlemen of repute, has broken out of Ham
castle, and has taken the way to Britanny."
Richard smiled; and, seeing that the gentleman had something more to
add, he said--
"Go on."
"It is but a rumour," answered the other; "but, when at Dover, tidings
were brought, that Sir John Fortescue, one of your officers in Calais,
with twelve young gentlemen of good stock, had followed the same
course."
"Ha!" said Richard, in a sterner tone. "Is this so wide spread? But it
matters not," he added the moment after, with the smile returning to
his lip. "I have the wasp in my gauntlet; and he cannot sting, but
die."
"There was much turbulence in Kent too, as I rode along," said the
blunt messenger.
Richard mused for some moments, and then said--
"It is not comfortable news, Sir Arthur. Nevertheless be you welcome.
Is there anything else, you have to say?"
"No, my liege," answered the old knight, "what I have had to say is
bad enough; but, as I came along, not three miles from York, I passed
a limber young gentleman, on a weary horse. I have seen him in John
Hutton's train; and he told me that he had ridden post, from a place
called Lyme in Dorset, whither he had come in a fishing-boat, to bear
your grace tidings from Britanny."
The news seemed to affect Richard more than all the rest; and starting
up he exclaimed--
"Ha! Call me a groom, there!"
A groom was instantly called; and the king demanded, gazing at him
with an eager eye--"Has any one arrived from Britanny?"
"Not that I know of, sire," replied the man; "but there was some one
rode into the court just now."
"Bring him hither, instantly," said Richard; and, seating himself
again at the table, he gnawed the side of his hand with his front
teeth.
"Might I venture to say a word, sire?" asked Lord Fulmer.
"No, sir, no!" exclaimed Richard, vehemently, waving his hand for
silence, and then resuming his bitter meditation.
At the end of a few minutes, a young gentleman covered with dust,
pale, and evidently sinking with fatigue, was introduced into the
cabinet; and the king, fixing his eyes upon him, demanded--"What
news?--You are Sir John Hutton's nephew, if I mistake not."
"The same, my liege," replied the young man, in a feeble tone. "Would
that my uncle had been still in Britanny, methinks he had watched
better."
"Speak, speak," said the king, in as calm a voice as he could command.
"Some mischief has happened--say what has gone amiss."
"The earl of Richmond, my gracious lord, has escaped from Vannes,"
replied the young man. "He was pursued with all speed, tracked by his
own dog; but he reached the gates of Angers just as the duke's men
were at his heels."
Richard sat for a moment as if stupified. Then turning fiercely to
Fulmer, he exclaimed, "Is this a time to talk of marriages? To horse,
Lord Fulmer, and away. Your instructions shall be ready in an hour.
Serve the king well, and the brightest lady in all the land shall be
yours, if you but ask her. Fail, and as I live I will give her to
another. By Heaven, we will take hostages of all men; there is too
little faith on earth. The lady's hand for the best doer! Till then,
I'll keep her sure. Away, let me hear no more!"
Fulmer dared not express the feeling which these words called up, but
hastened from the room, with a flushed brow and cheek, while Richard,
leaning his head upon his hand, muttered once or twice, "'Tis time to
buckle on our armour."
The two gentlemen who had brought him the intelligence which had so
moved him remained standing before him without receiving the slightest
notice, for some five minutes, though one was hardly able to stand
from fatigue, and both were somewhat alarmed at the absent and unusual
mood into which the king was plunged. His face was agitated, while he
thus thought, with a thousand shades of emotion. Now he bit his lip,
and fixed his keen eye upon the floor; now his brow contracted, and
his lip quivered; now he raised his eyes to the fretted and painted
ceiling over head, with a sort of vacant look, from which all
expression was banished; and when he at length ended this fit of
meditation with a loud laugh, both the spectators feared his powerful
mind had become affected, by the disappointment he had lately
undergone. They tried, indeed, to suppress all signs of wonder; but he
seemed to read their thoughts, the moment his spirit was re-called to
the immediate business of the hour.
"Strange, Sir Arthur," he said, "that the things which--seen through
rage and disappointment--are magnified, as in a mist, into giant
evils, should, under a moment's calm reflection, diminish to their own
pigmy reality. Here now, a minute or two ago, I thought the escape of
this earl of Richmond from Britanny, and the reception in France, a
mighty great disaster, the earl of Oxford's flight from Ham a
portentous incident. Now it moves my merriment to think how I would
whip the dame of Derby's beggar boy back to his Breton almshouse, if
he dared to set his foot within this realm of England. By holy St.
Paul, I would give him safe conduct over the narrow seas, and not
place a galliot to impede his coming, for the mere jest of scourging
him like a truant back to school, but that our realm has bled too much
already, and that I hold the life of every subject dear. Who is this
Richmond? Where is his name in arms? On what fields has he gained
glory? Where learned he the art of war? And is it such a man as this
shall come to battle for a crown, with one whose cradle was a corslet,
his nursery a bloody fight, his schools Hexham, and Barnet, and
Tewksbury, his pedagogues York, and Salisbury, and Warwick and Edward?
Where are his generals? Will Dorset--feeble, vacillating, frippery
Dorset, lead the van, and order the battle? Methinks, it is indeed
meet matter for merriment; and I may well laugh, to think that I
should have given an anxious look towards the movements of this Tudor
boy. Say, my good friend, have all the fugitive lords gone with him
into France? But you are weary. Sit you in that chair--nay, the king,
wills it. Now answer me."
"No, my gracious liege," replied young John Hutton; "he gave them all
the slip, I hear; sent them to the duke's court, to compliment him on
his recovery; and thus having lulled suspicion, by the sacrifice of
his friends, he fled away with only four in company?"
"Is the good duke then well again?" asked Richard, with a slight frown
once more contracting his brow; "what news of Master Landais?"
"I heard he was right well, sire, and in high favour with his lord,"
replied the young man; "but I stayed not to learn all that was
passing; for I thought your grace had been ill-served, and, entering a
fishing-boat at once, I came over, and took horse. I have not lain in
a bed since; for, although evil news never make a welcome messenger,
yet I fancied your Highness' service might be benefitted by early
tidings; and I thought that if it should be really so, your frown
would prove lighter to me than your thanks for better tidings."
"You did well," said Richard, gravely, "you did right well, young man;
and shall not go unrewarded. Weinants has been outwitted; over
discreet men often are. Now go and seek repose; and remember, take
your place at the board of our gentlemen of the privy chamber, till I
can place you better."
The young man bowed, with a grateful look, and withdrew. Then turning
to the other, Richard said, "Are you too over-weary, Sir Arthur?"
"Faith not I, my lord the king," replied the old knight. "I am
hardened. My old clay has been beat to such consistence with hard
knocks, that it cracks not easily."
"Well, we will give you till to-morrow for repose," said Richard,
"then, good, faith, you must back to Kent, and strive to quiet the
turbulent folks. You shall have letters, and authority. 'Tis pity no
hemp grows there; but you will find ropes at Dartford--you understand
me."
When Richard was once more left alone, he strode up and down the room
for several minutes, in much agitation. "No more losses!" he said at
length, "No more losses! They must not be suffered to fall off. This
marriage must go forward quickly, once more to heal the breaches in
the house of York. They shall not be patched with Tudor clay. We must
keep all, gain more. This young Lord Fulmer, I was somewhat stern with
him in my haste. I must smooth that down before he goes. But I will
keep my fair hostage for his faith. Chartley--there is great power and
wealth and many friends there. He must be won. Perchance this heiress
may be a meet bait for him too. Let them contend for her in the king's
service. At all events, while I have the pretty decoy in my own hand,
I can whistle either bird back to the lure."