The Last of the Barons — Complete

  CHAPTER VIII. THE GROUP ROUND THE DEATH-BED OF THE LANCASTRIAN WIDOW.

  The dawning sun gleamed through gray clouds upon a small troop of men,armed in haste, who were grouped round a covered litter by the outerdoor of the Lady Longueville's house; while in the death-chamber, theEarl of Warwick, with a face as pale as the dying woman's, stood besidethe bed, Anne calmly leaning on his breast, her eyes closed, and tearsyet moist on her long fringes.

  "Ay, ay, ay!" said the Lancastrian noblewoman, "ye men of wrath andturbulence should reap what ye have sown! This is the king for whom yedethroned the sainted Henry! this the man for whom ye poured forth theblood of England's best! Ha! ha! Look down from heaven, my husband, mymartyr-sons! The daughter of your mightiest foe flies to this lonelyhearth,--flies to the death-bed of the powerless woman for refuge fromthe foul usurper whom that foe placed upon the throne!"

  "Spare me," muttered Warwick, in a low voice, and between his grindedteeth. The room had been cleared, and Dr. Godard (the grave man who hadfirst accosted Marmaduke, and who was the priest summoned to the dying)alone--save the scarce conscious Anne herself--witnessed the ghastly andawful conference.

  "Hush, daughter," said the man of peace, lifting the solemncrucifix,--"calm thyself to holier thoughts."

  The lady impatiently turned from the priest, and grasping the strongright arm of Warwick with her shrivelled and trembling fingers, resumedin a voice that struggled to repress the gasps which broke its breath,--

  "But thou--oh, thou wilt bear this indignity! thou, the chief ofEngland's barons, wilt see no dishonour in the rank love of the vilestof England's kings! Oh, yes, ye Yorkists have the hearts of varlets, notof men and fathers!"

  "By the symbol from which thou turnest, woman!" exclaimed the earl,giving vent to the fury which the presence of death had beforesuppressed, "by Him to whom, morning and night, I have knelt in gratefulblessing for the virtuous life of this beloved child, I will have suchrevenge on the recreant whom I kinged, as shall live in the rolls ofEngland till the trump of the Judgment Angel!"

  "Father," said Anne, startled by her father's vehemence from herhalf-swoon, half-sleep--"Father, think no more of the past,--take me tomy mother! I want the clasp of my mother's arms!"

  "Leave us,--leave the dying, Sir Earl and son," said Godard. "I tooam Lancastrian; I too would lay down my life for the holy Henry; but Ishudder, in the hour of death, to hear yon pale lips, that should prayfor pardon, preach to thee of revenge."

  "Revenge!" shrieked out the dame of Longueville, as, sinking fast andfast, she caught the word--"revenge! Thou hast sworn revenge on Edwardof York, Lord Warwick,--sworn it in the chamber of death, in the ear ofone who will carry that word to the hero-dead of a hundred battlefields!Ha! the sun has risen! Priest--Godard--thine arms--support--raise--bearme to the casement! Quick--quick! I would see my king once more!Quick--quick! and then--then--I will hear thee pray!"

  The priest, half chiding, yet half in pity, bore the dying woman to thecasement. She motioned to him to open it; he obeyed. The sun, just abovethe welkin, shone over the lordly Thames, gilded the gloomy fortress ofthe Tower, and glittered upon the window of Henry's prison.

  "There--there! It is he,--it is my king! Hither,--lord, rebelearl,--hither. Behold your sovereign. Repent, revenge!"

  With her livid and outstretched hand, the Lancastrian pointed to thehuge Wakefield tower. The earl's dark eye beheld in the dim distancea pale and reverend countenance, recognized even from afar. The dyingwoman fixed her glazing eyes upon the wronged and mighty baron, andsuddenly her arm fell to her side, the face became set as into stone,the last breath of life gurgled within, and fled; and still thoseglazing eyes were fixed on the earl's hueless face, and still in hisear, and echoed by a thousand passions in his heart, thrilled theword which had superseded prayer, and in which the sinner's soul hadflown,--REVENGE!

  BOOK IX. THE WANDERERS AND THE EXILES.