Gaps are sometimes pleasant things. With what interest the eye traces
a gap in a deep wood; how it roams up the glade, marking a tree
out-standing here, a clump of bushes there, the rounded swell of the
turf, the little sinking dell! And now imagination revels in the void,
filling up every breach in the line with a continuation of its own,
seeing the fancied woodman's hut peeping out from behind this mass of
foliage, peopling the coverts with dun deer, and raising up forms of
lads and lasses to wander through the chequered shade.
I must have a break in the history of those upon whom the principal
interest of the tale has been concentrated, and can only furnish a few
brief lines, to guide the reader's imagination aright. We left them
in the spring of the year, when skies were soft, though warm, when the
shower mingled with the sunshine, when the leaf was in its green
infancy upon the branch, and all nature was rejoicing as if filled
with the sweet early hopes of youth. It was now summer, ardent summer;
the sky was full of golden light, the woods afforded deep shade; the
corn was turning yellow on the ground; and the cattle lay in the hot
noonday, chewing the cud, under the shadows of the trees. The
longed-for summer had come. It was fruition.
Lord Calverly had followed the advice he had received, and presented
himself to the king to make what excuse he best could. He dared not
indeed tell the whole truth, and merely said, that his niece,
unwilling to fulfil the contract with Lord Fulmer, had fled he knew
not whither. Richard, however, divined more than he acknowledged; but
he dealt leniently with him. There was no fine, no confiscation, no
actual imprisonment. He merely required that the old nobleman should
remain constantly at the court till his niece reappeared, after having
satisfied himself that Lord Chartley was not cognizant of her flight
nor aware of her place of refuge.
Suspicion and policy were busy in the king's mind at that hour; for
reports reached him, from his numerous spies in France and Britanny,
which showed that storms were gathering on the horizon; and signs, not
to be mistaken, told him of discontent and disaffection amongst the
people of his own land, while phantoms of shadowy conspiracies flitted
across the scene before his eyes, and left him in doubt and
apprehension of every man. All those whom he most feared and least
trusted he kept at the court under his own eye, believing that the
terror of the axe would secure that obedience which he could not
obtain from love and zeal.
Lord Fulmer, indeed, remained in Dorsetshire, in command of a small
body of forces; but he was kept in check, and his fidelity secured by
the presence of a much larger power upon the verge of Somerset and
Devon, commanded by one in whom Richard could confide. Never failing
in dissimulation, the king noticed not in any way what he suspected or
what he knew of the young lord's conduct; but every messenger which
went to Dorsetshire carried commendations and hopes, and many an
expression of regret that the Lady Iola St. Leger had not been found,
so that his marriage must be necessarily delayed.
It might be supposed, that if Richard thought precautions so necessary
in these instances, he would have exercised still greater vigilance in
the case of Lord Chartley. Such, however, was not the case. The
paradoxes of the human mind are part of history; but so common is it
for the most jealous, watchful, and suspicious, in every rank and
relation of life, to place the utmost confidence in those who are
destined to frustrate all their plans and purposes, and disappoint all
their expectations, that it is no marvel even so keen and untrusting a
man as Richard should feel no apprehensions, with regard to either
Chartley or Arden, though he was hateful to them both, and yet be
suspicious of Lord Calverly and Fulmer, who might perchance disobey
his orders, and refuse reverence to his authority in matters of small
moment, where their own passions were concerned, but who never
entertained a thought of abandoning the king's party, to which they
had attached themselves from the first. Cunning often overreaches
itself, often sees a distant object, and overlooks that lying at its
feet. But there were many circumstances which rendered Richard
careless in the case of Chartley. He looked upon him as a rash,
heedless, light-spirited young man, too open and too frank, either to
be sought by or to seek other conspirators. He had always been firmly
attached to the house of York, had been brought up from his youth
under its guardianship, had inherited, as it were, animosity to the
house of Lancaster, had taken no part with the new nobility, as the
relations of Edward's queen were called, and had, in his boyhood.
treated with some haughty contumely one of the upstart favourites of
the queen's brother, which caused him to be sent from court to travel
in foreign lands. These things had not been forgotten by Richard; and
he argued--"It is neither with Richmond nor with Dorset that this gay
young lord would intrigue, if he intrigued at all; and, so long as
this fair maid of St. Leger remains to be won, I have him sure. 'Tis
well she hides herself; for were she at the court, or in her uncle's
house, I might have to decide too soon. I doubt that moody
discontented Fulmer; but of this light-spirited youth I am secure."
The month, during which Sir William Arden had agreed to hold his noble
cousin in ward, passed away. Richard heard of them travelling here,
travelling there, roaming from this village to that, hovering
sometimes round Chidlow, sometimes round Atherston, lodging at
Tamworth, at Leicester, at Hinckley; and he easily divined that
Chartley was seeking eagerly for Iola. The multitude of affairs
pressing upon his attention gave him but little time to think of minor
things; and he suffered the period to lapse, without taking any
farther precaution for the young lord's custody. It was recalled to
his memory some days afterwards by Catesby; and the king mused over
the suggestion for some moments; but at length he said in a somewhat
doubtful tone--
"No. Let it be. But this girl must be heard of, Catesby. I must know
where she is, lest this youth find out the hidden treasure, and snatch
at it without our consent. There must be people who know her habits
and her haunts. Let them be enquired after, and in the mean time write
me a letter to Lord Chartley, requiring him to use every diligence to
seek for the Lady Iola, and bring her to the court, when he shall be
rewarded as his heart could desire. But mark you, Catesby, mark you.
Put in 'If the lady's heart go with it.' These young fools, we must
talk to them about hearts, or they will not believe. Methinks hearts
wear out about thirty, Catesby. Is it not so?"
"Sometimes sooner; sire," answered Catesby, gravely. "But I will do
your bidding; and methinks the person most likely to know where the
lure lies hid is the lady Constance, her cousin. The old lord sent her
back to the abbey of St. Clare; but I will despatch some one thither,
skilled in ladies' interrogatories, who will soon extract from her all
that she knows."
"So be it," said the king, and there the conversation dropped.