_CHAPTER X_
_Justice, O King!_
Such was the state of affairs when I returned from France.
How I hated myself because I had not faced the king's displeasure andhad not refused to go until Brandon was safely out of his trouble. Itwas hard for me to believe that I had left such a matter to twofoolish girls, one of them as changeable as the wind, and the othercompletely under her control. I could but think of the differencebetween myself and Brandon, and well knew, had I been in his place, hewould have liberated me or stormed the very walls of Londonsingle-handed and alone.
When I learned that Brandon had been in that dungeon all that longmonth, I felt that it would surely kill him, and my self-accusationwas so strong and bitter, and my mental pain so great, that I resolvedif my friend died, either by disease contracted in the dungeon or byexecution of his sentence, that I would kill myself. But that is amatter much easier sincerely to resolve upon than to execute when thetime comes.
Next to myself, I condemned those wretched girls for leaving Brandonto perish--Brandon, to whom they both owed so much. Their selfishnessturned me against all womankind.
I did not dally this time. I trusted to no Lady Jane nor Lady Mary. Idetermined to go to the king at once and tell him all. I did not careif the wretched Mary and Jane both had to marry the French king, orthe devil himself. I did not care if they and all the host of theirperfidious sisterhood went to the nether side of the universe, thereto remain forever. I would retrieve my fault, in so far as it wasretrievable, and save Brandon, who was worth them all put together. Iwould tell Mary and Jane what I thought of them, and that should endmatters between us. I felt as I did toward them not only because oftheir treatment of Brandon, but because they had made me guilty of agrievous fault, for which I should never, so long as I lived, forgivemyself. I determined to go to the king, and go I did within fiveminutes of the time I heard that Brandon was yet in prison.
I found the king sitting alone at public dinner, and, of course, wasdenied speech with him. I was in no humor to be balked, so I thrustaside the guards, and, much to everybody's fright, for I was wild withgrief, rage and despair, and showed it in every feature, rushed to theking and fell upon my knees at his feet.
"Justice, O king!" I cried, and all the courtiers heard. "Justice, Oking! for the worst used man and the bravest, truest soul that everlived and suffered." Here the tears began to stream down my face andmy voice choked in my throat. "Charles Brandon, your majesty'sone-time friend, lies in a loathsome, rayless dungeon, condemned todeath, as your majesty may know, for the killing of two men inBillingsgate Ward. I will tell you all: I should be thrust out fromthe society of decent men for not having told you before I left forFrance, but I trusted it to another who has proved false. I will tellyou all. Your sister, the Lady Mary, and Lady Jane Bolingbroke werereturning alone, after dark, from a visit to the soothsayer Grouche,of whom your majesty has heard. I had been notified of the Lady Mary'sintended visit to him, although she had enjoined absolute secrecy uponmy informant. I could not go, being detained upon your majesty'sservice--it was the night of the ball to the ambassadors--and I askedBrandon to follow them, which he did, without the knowledge of theprincess. Upon returning, the ladies were attacked by four ruffians,and would have met with worse than death had not the bravest heart andthe best sword in England defended them victoriously against suchfearful odds. He left them at Bridewell without hurt or injury, thoughcovered with wounds himself. This man is condemned to be hanged, drawnand quartered, but I know not your majesty's heart if he be not atonce reprieved and richly rewarded. Think, my king! He saved the royalhonor of your sister, who is so dear to you, and has suffered soterribly for his loyalty and bravery. The day I left so hurriedly forFrance the Lady Mary promised she would tell you all and liberatethis man who had so nobly served her; but she is a woman, and was bornto betray."
The king laughed a little at my vehemence.
"What is this you are telling me, Sir Edwin? I know of Brandon's deathsentence, but much as I regret it, I cannot interfere with the justiceof our good people of London for the murder of two knights in theirstreets. If Brandon committed such a crime, and, I understand he doesnot deny it, I cannot help him, however much I should like to do so.But this nonsense about my sister! It cannot be true. It must betrumped up out of your love in order to save your friend. Have a care,good master, how you say such a thing. If it were true, would notBrandon have told it at his trial?"
"It is as true as that God lives, my king! If the Lady Mary and LadyJane do not bear me out in every word I have said, let my life pay theforfeit. He would not tell of the great reason for killing the men,fearing to compromise the honor of those whom he had saved, for, asyour majesty is aware, persons sometimes go to Grouche's for purposesother than to listen to his soothsaying. Not in this case, God knows,but there are slanderous tongues, and Brandon was willing to die withclosed lips, rather than set them wagging against one so dear to you.It seems that these ladies, who owe so much to him, are also willingthat he should die rather than themselves bear the consequences oftheir own folly. Do not delay, I beseech your majesty. Eat notanother morsel, I pray you, until this brave man, who has so trulyserved you, be taken from his prison and freed from his sentence ofdeath. Come, come, my king! this moment, and all that I have, mywealth, my life, my honor, are yours for all time."
The king remained a moment in thought with knife in hand.
"Caskoden, I have never detected you in a lie in all the years I haveknown you; you are not very large in body, but your honor is greatenough to stock a Goliath. I believe you are telling the truth. I willgo at once to liberate Brandon; and that little hussy, my sister,shall go to France and enjoy life as best she can with her old beauty,King Louis. I know of no greater punishment to inflict upon her. Thisdetermines me; she shall coax me out of it no longer. Sir ThomasBrandon, have my horses ready, and I will go to the lord mayor, thento my lord bishop of Lincoln and arrange to close this French treatyat once. Let everybody know that the Princess Mary will, within themonth, be queen of France." This was said to the courtiers, and wasall over London before night.
I followed closely in the wake of the king, though uninvited, for Ihad determined to trust to no one, not even his majesty, until Brandonshould be free. Henry had said he would go first to the lord mayor andthen to Wolsey, but after we crossed the Bridge he passed down LowerThames street and turned up Fish-street Hill into Grace Church streeton toward Bishopsgate. He said he would stop at Mistress Cornwallis'sand have a pudding; and then on to Wolsey, who at that time lodged ina house near the wall beyond Bishopsgate.
I well knew if the king once reached Wolsey's, it would be wine andquoits and other games, interspersed now and then with a littleblustering talk on statecraft, for the rest of the day. Then the goodbishop would have in a few pretty London women and a dance wouldfollow with wine and cards and dice, and Henry would spend the nightat Wolsey's, and Brandon lie another night in the mire of his Newgatedungeon.
I resolved to raise heaven and earth, and the other place, too, ifnecessary, before this should happen. So I rode boldly up to the king,and with uncovered head addressed him: "Your majesty gave me yourroyal word that you would go to the lord mayor first, and this is theroad to my lord bishop of Lincoln. In all the years I have known yourmajesty, both as gallant prince and puissant king, this is the firstrequest I ever proffered, and now I only ask of you to save your ownnoble honor, and do your duty as man and king."
These were bold words, but I did not care one little farthing whetherthey pleased him or not. The king stared at me and said:
"Caskoden, you are a perfect hound at my heels. But you are right; Ihad forgotten my errand. You disturbed my dinner, and my stomachcalled loudly for one of Mistress Cornwallis's puddings; but you areright to stick to me. What a friend you are in case of need. Would Ihad one like you."
"Your majesty has two of whom I know; one riding humbly by your royalside, and the other lying in the worst dungeon in Chri
stendom."
With this the king wheeled about and started west toward Guildhall.
Oh, how I hated Henry for that cold-blooded, selfish forgetfulnessworse than crime; and how I hoped the Blessed Virgin would forget himin time to come, and leave his soul an extra thousand years in purgingflames, just to show him how it goes to be forgotten--in hell.
To the lord mayor we accordingly went without further delay. He wasonly too glad to liberate Brandon when he heard my story, which theking had ordered me to repeat. The only hesitancy was from a doubt ofits truth.
The lord mayor was kind enough to say that he felt little doubt of myword, but that friendship would often drive a man to any extremity,even falsehood, to save a friend.
Then I offered to go into custody myself and pay the penalty, death,for helping a convicted felon to escape, if I told not the truth, tobe confirmed or denied by the princess and her first lady in waiting.I knew Jane and was willing to risk her truthfulness without adoubt--it was so pronounced as to be troublesome at times--and as toMary--well, I had no doubt of her, either. If she would but stop tothink out the right she was sure to do it.
I have often wondered how much of the general fund of evil in thisworld comes from thoughtlessness. Cultivate thought and you makevirtue--I believe. But this is no time to philosophize.
My offer was satisfactory, for what more can a man do than pledge hislife for his friend? We have scripture for that, or something like it.
The lord mayor did not require my proffered pledge, but readilyconsented that the king should write an order for Brandon's pardon andrelease. This was done at once, and we, that is, I, together with asheriff's sergeant and his four yeomen, hastened to Newgate, whileHenry went over to Wolsey's to settle Mary's fate.
Brandon was brought up with chains and manacles at his ankles andwrists. When he entered the room and saw me, he exclaimed: "Ah!Caskoden, is that you? I thought they had brought me up to hang me,and was glad for the change; but I suppose you would not come to helpat that, even if you have left me here to rot; God only knows howlong; I have forgotten."
I could not restrain the tears at sight of him.
"Your words are more than just," I said; and, being anxious that heshould know at once that my fault had not been so great as it looked,continued hurriedly: "The king sent me to France upon an hour'snotice, the day after your arrest. I know only too well I should nothave gone without seeing you out of this, but you had enjoined silenceupon me, and--and I trusted to the promises of another."
"I thought as much. You are in no way to blame, my friend; all I askis that you never mention the subject again."
"My friend!" Ah! the words were dear to me as words of love from asweetheart's lips.
I hardly recognized him, he was so frightfully covered with filth anddirt and creeping things. His hair and beard were unkempt and matted,and his eyes and cheeks were lusterless and sunken; but I willdescribe him no further. Suffering had well-nigh done its work, andnothing but the hardihood gathered in his years of camp life and warcould have saved him from death. I bathed and reclothed him as well asI could at Newgate, and then took him home to Greenwich in a horselitter, where my man and I thoroughly washed, dressed and sheared thepoor fellow and put him to bed.
"Ah! this bed is a foretaste of paradise," he said, as he lay upon themattress.
It was a pitiful sight, and I could hardly refrain from tears. I sentmy man to fetch a certain Moor, a learned scholar, though a hatedforeigner, who lived just off Cheap and sold small arms, and very soonhe was with us. Brandon and I both knew him well, and admired hislearning and gentleness, and loved him for his sweet philosophy oflife, the leaven of which was charity--a modest little plant toooften overshadowed by the rank growth of pompous dogmatism.
The Moor was learned in the healing potions of the east, and insisted,privately, of course, that all the shrines and relics in Christendomput together could not cure an ache in a baby's little finger. This,perhaps, was going too far, for there are some relics that haveundoubted potency, but in cases where human agency can cure, thepeople of the east are unquestionably far in advance of us inknowledge of remedies. The Moor at once gave Brandon a soothing drink,which soon put him into a sweet sleep. He then bathed him as he slept,with some strengthening lotion, made certain learned signs, and spokea few cabalistic words, and, sure enough, so strong were the healingremedies and incantations that the next morning Brandon was anotherman, though very far from well and strong. The Moor recommendednutritious food, such as roast beef and generous wine, and, althoughthis advice was contrary to the general belief, which is, withapparent reason, that the evil spirit of disease should be starved anddriven out, yet so great was our faith in him that we followed hisdirections, and in a few days Brandon had almost regained his old-timestrength.
I will ask you to go back with me for a moment.
During the week, between Brandon's interview with Mary in theante-room of the king's bed-chamber and the tragedy at Billingsgate,he and I had many conversations about the extraordinary situation inwhich he found himself.
At one time, I remember, he said: "I was safe enough before thatafternoon. I believe I could have gone away and forgotten hereventually, but our mutual avowal seems to have dazed me and paralyzedevery power for effort. I sometimes feel helpless, and, although Ihave succeeded in keeping away from her since then, I often findmyself wavering in my determination to leave England. That was what Ifeared if I allowed the matter to go to the point of being sure of herlove. I only wanted it before, and very easily made myself believe itwas impossible, and not for me. But now that I know she loves me it islike holding my breath to live without her. I feel every instant thatI can hold it no longer. I know only too well that if I but see herface once more I shall breathe. She is the very breath of life for me.She is mine by the gift of God. Curses upon those who keep us apart."Then musingly and half interrogatively: "She certainly does love me.She could not have treated me as she did unless her love was so strongthat she could not resist it."
"Let no doubt of that trouble you," I answered.
"A woman like Mary cannot treat two men as she treated you. Many awoman may love, or think she loves many times, but there is only oneman who receives the full measure of her best. Other women, again,have nothing to give but their best, and when they have once giventhat, they have given all. Unless I have known her in vain, Mary, withall her faults, is such a woman. Again I say, let no doubt of thattrouble you."
Brandon answered with a sad little smile from the midst of hisreverie. "It is really not so much the doubt as the certainty of itthat troubles me." Then, starting to his feet: "If I thought she hadlied to me; if I thought she could wantonly lead me on to suffer sofor her, I would kill her, so help me God."
"Do not think that. Whatever her faults, and she has enough, there isno man on earth for her but you. Her love has come to her through astruggle against it because it was her master. That is the strongestand best, in fact the only, love; worth all the self-made passions inthe world."
"Yes, I believe it. I know she has faults; even my partiality cannotblind me to them, but she is as pure and chaste as a child, and asgentle, strong and true as--as--a woman. I can put it no stronger. Shehas these, her redeeming virtues, along with her beauty, from herplebeian grandmother, Elizabeth Woodville, who, with them, won a royalhusband and elevated herself to the throne beside the chivalrousEdward. This sweet plebeian heritage bubbles up in the heart of Mary,and will not down, but neutralizes the royal poison in her veins andmakes a goddess of her." Then with a sigh: "But if her faults were athousand times as many, and if each fault were a thousand times asgreat, her beauty would atone for all. Such beauty as hers can affordto have faults. Look at Helen and Cleopatra, and Agnes Sorel. Didtheir faults make them less attractive? Beauty covereth more sins thancharity--and maketh more grief than pestilence."
The last clause was evidently an afterthought.
After his month in Newgate with the hangman's noose about his neck al
lbecause of Mary's cruel neglect, I wondered if her beauty would soeasily atone for her faults. I may as well tell you that he changedhis mind concerning this particular doctrine of atonement.