CHAPTER XVII
OF A JOUST WITH BULL BENGOUGH, AND THE INCIDENT OF THE KNIGHT IN BLACK
A deep sense of guilt caused by his momentary surrender to Lady Anna'sblandishments stirred a very tempest of remorse within Sir Richard'smind, which vented itself in a torrent of bitter words directed towardhis fair seductress. All cold and calm and smiling she listened to theyoung knight's list of accusations.
"Fickle boy!" she said with a gay laugh when Sir Richard had finished."Know you not that a late repentance is like the wind that blows abovean empty sea? But let me tell you, Sir Richard," she added, abandoningthe tone of light mockery in which she had first spoken, "that eventsare transpiring right well for you. Have but a mite of patience....Wait, and see," whereupon she coolly replaced his poniard within theholder dangling from his baldric, reached for his hand and signifiedher desire to have him accompany her below. "'Tis a right bonnie andsharp blade, that," she said, referring to the poniard, "and did partthe rope full smoothly. But come, Sir Richard. Lord Douglas is waitingto have speech with you."
"By the mass, Lady Anna, and how came you upon my plans?" Sir Richardsullenly inquired when they were come at length into the gallery of thegriffins' heads.
He remarked that the sliding panel had been thrown wide open, and thathalf a score of attendants bearing flaring rush-lights were awaitingtheir mistress's coming. They all grinned within their beards as theyoung knight passed before them.
Lady Anna looked up into Sir Richard's eyes and smiled brightly.
"Ah! Sir valiant knight," she returned, "much have you yet to learn.Never should you confide a secret to a weak and lovelorn boy. Letme explain: Wishing much to have an immediate audience with you, mylord dispatched a messenger to the great hall. You were not there. Around of your accustomed abiding places failed to discover you. Yourprivate chamber was searched, but without result. Entertaining somewhatof a shrewd suspicion of my own, which was speedily verified by ourfair-haired, youthful friend, I sought you upon the tower, ... errantboy! The rest you know."
Sir Richard made no answering comment. His mind was taken up with deClaverlok. He was wondering what the generous warrior would be thinkingof him. With no more than a curt good-night, he parted from Lady Annaat the head of the jutting balcony.
He found Lord Douglas awaiting him in his own chamber. The same inwhich he had delivered Henry's warrant less than a month ago. Douglasreceived him with a gracious cordiality, his red bewhiskered face allof a-wrinkle with genial smirks and smiles.
"So, so! Sir Richard," said he, rising and extending the young knighthis hairy hand. "You have played the leech, I hear, and have delivereda suffering old warrior out of the womb of Castle Yewe? Well--well!"pausing to roar with laughter; "I looked upon the fellow as your direenemy, and mewed him up for hurling treacherous lance at you. I prayyou, and why did you not affirm that he was indeed your friend?"
"Said I not so at the foot of the stairs upon the first moment of myarrival here?"
"Yea--that you did. But I bethought me that you were but reservinghim for your own vengeance. Why--you might have had him free for thesnapping of your fingers. Marry--marry! How often do we strugglemightily and in secret for a thing that we might gain in the open, andbut for the simple asking."
Deeds that to Sir Richard appeared valorous, and partaking somewhat ofthe essence of that chivalry which he strove always to emulate, werethus dismissed as mere boyish escapades. His embarrassment and chagrinbecame more profound than ever.
"By'r lady! An I could but borrow the ears of an ass, I'd be armed atpoint device," he ruefully declared.
"Nay, nay, Sir Richard, say not thus," replied Douglas. "An all theasses' ears were properly bestowed, let me tell you, our four-leggedfriends would every one be bereft of those useful appendages. Havedone, my young friend, with vain repining. Your act of this nightpleases me passing well. Though, an you had left us, as you cameperilously near doing, you would have broken your knightly word. For,in the games of to-morrow, did you not agree with Mistress Douglas tobreak a lance with Bull Bengough? But enough upon that subject. Yourhead was all awry upon your shoulders. You were not heedful of suchslight obligations. Mark you well, Sir Richard, I wished that youshould be brought hither so that I might tell you that, upon to-morrownight, following the games, there's to be a conclave held within thecouncil hall. You shall be present. Something then shall you hear thatwill set your eyes wide open. Some things shall you know that willput you in a better case with yourself than you have ever been. Andthen, there is another matter of which I wished to speak," he went on,lowering his voice to as soft a tone as he was able to command; "'tisconcerning the bit of saffron velvet. You have kept that from me, SirRichard, but Lady Anna has told me all. What would you say now, myfriend, an I told you that I had dispatched emissaries to fetch themaid to your side?"
"What mean you, Lord Douglas? The young lady is imprisoned, and herjailor is even this moment within Castle Yewe."
"How know you that?"
"I saw him through the window of the secret passageway."
"Aye--true, there is a window," returned Douglas in a tone indicatinghis regret that such was the fact. "And did you hear what he said?"
"Not a word could I hear," Sir Richard openly confessed.
Douglas had been nervously twisting and untwisting his beard. Uponhearing the young knight's negative reply he heaved a deep sigh ofrelief.
"'Twould have mattered little, an you had," he said. "Well--'twasTyrrell whom you saw. And henceforward our issues are to be joined. Atthe meeting to-morrow you shall know everything."
"When will the maid arrive? Through what means will your men effect herfreedom? Does Tyrrell know?" was Sir Richard's volley of questions.
"Nay--Tyrrell does not know. 'Twas at the suggestion of your goodfriend, the Renegade Duke, that I sent for her, who has but just thiseve arrived within the castle. He has been laid up with a sickness. Butgive you a good-night, Sir Richard, and get you to your bed," Douglasconcluded, getting up to pull the bell cord above his chair and againtendering the young knight his hand.
Like one walking in a dream, Sir Richard followed the smokingrush-lights of the two pages who were awaiting to lead him to his room.For the third time the words of the unhappy youth, Perkin Warbeck, wererecalled vividly to his mind--"A phantom in the midst of phantoms,moving in a fog of mystery."
A sound body overcame an uneasy mind and conscience, however, and heslept peacefully through the fog, with nothing more alarming thana multitude of shadowy de Claverloks to inhabit his dreams. In themorning he was awake betimes, broke his fast, and then wandered out toview the lists, which would soon resound with the huzzas of excitedspectators, and the tumult of friendly striving.
To the northward of the walls of the castle tents were thickly dottedover the hillsides, the blue smoke of their fires rising high into thekeen, clear air. Horses were tethered to almost every tree; oxen weremoving about over the slopes, grazing the frosty grass. In the openspaces knots of men and women were gathered, eating, drinking, andsinging. Snatches of their rude songs reached to the young knight'sears as he stood watching the interesting spectacle.
Within the space reserved for the uses of the knights who were toengage in the games, he noted a pavilion bearing his cognizanceemblazoned above its entrance. He walked across, stopping in frontof it to look up along the decorated stand, with its ribbon-twinedpillars, its manifold pennants, its blaze of multi-colored banners allsnapping and fluttering in the crisp breeze. It was a brave sight, andsent Sir Richard's blood tingling through his veins. He grew consciousof a keen desire to feel the first shock of the combat.
By now other knights were passing beside him, many of whom were notstrangers to Sir Richard's prowess with the sword. They gave himthe morning's greeting and passed within their tents. Heralds andpursuivants, dressed in the brightest and gaudiest of liveries, weremoving busily about the tilting-yard, engaged upon their tasks ofobserving that everything was in cap-a-pie order. Presently L
ordDouglas and his retinue of inseparable jackdaws entered the standacross the covered bridge that gave into it from the castle. Theymoved in a body to the front and bowed in concert, wishing him a rowof solemn good-morrows. Sir Richard grew to speculating as to what wastaking place within their teeming brains. He wished that he might havelifted their coverings for a moment to have a peep within.
Upon returning their ceremonious salutations, he parted the curtainedentrance and walked within his tent.
No sooner was he come inside when a seam opened to the right,disclosing a hand holding a parchment with ribbons dangling from itsgreat seal. Sir Richard instantly recognized it to be the documentthat had been stolen from his wallet. The seam gaped wider then, andTyrrell's grim visage appeared above the hand.
"Hist!" he whispered low. "I essayed to speak with thee last nightwithin thy chamber, but armed guards were stationed without thy door.Mark ye well what I say, Sir Richard Rohan, for I must perforce saybriefly. Here is the message from Henry to Douglas, which I took fromthee on the night thou didst tarry within the Red Tavern. Mighty wellis it for thee that it was purloined, ... else thou wouldst not havebeen here to-day. But another of similar import is likely any dayto arrive from Kenilworth. Thou art in direst peril. Read it, SirRichard. But not now.... After I have gone.... I dare not long remain.Thy life and mine would pay instant forfeit were I to be discoveredhere. Hark ye, ... closer! That red striped lance yonder is worm eatento the core. I have one for myself hewn from the same piece of wood.When we shall be called opposite in the lists, ... mark ye, now, ...forget not to couch that stick at me. It will shatter to the hilt,as will mine own. At our next meeting, with fair lances, thou shalthave the northern stand. When the trumpet winds, plunge rowels intothy steed's belly and charge at me. But do not engage my shield orperson. Gallop by me and make straight for the gate, which will be openand packed with gaping peasantry. I have stationed there two score ofbrawny men and true, who will part a way for thee. Ride on throughand make southward along the Sauchieburn Pass. I will execute a swiftdemivolte and follow closely at thy heels, appearing to give chase. An,perchance, I fail of getting away with thee, go swift to the Red Tavernand await there my coming. Zenas will be looking out for thee. An Icome not, ... well, ... Lord Kennedy shall bear thee messages. Hist!At thy door there. 'Tis the man I have bribed to sew up this rent.Admit him, Sir Richard, and give thyself to the reading of the warrant.Adieu!"
Tyrrell thereupon withdrew his head, and the man went about mendingthe rent. Sir Richard seated himself upon a stool, holding theunopened parchment. Even now he hesitated before reading its contents,believing that it would be a violation of King Henry's trust. He becameconvinced, finally, that it was a duty that he owed to himself todo so, whereupon he unfolded and began perusing the warrant. Havingfinished reading, he crumpled the paper and thrust it beneath hisbreast-plate. For a long time he sat motionless, with his hands knottedtogether upon his knees.
"This--this from Henry!" he thought. "Henry whom I have revered andloved and called companion from very childhood! This from the comradeby whose side I fought upon the field of Bosworth!"
A something there was went out of the young knight's life during thatbitter moment which he felt that nothing could ever supplant.
Beyond a certain set firmness of his lips that had never been therebefore, however, when he stepped outside his tent, Sir Richardexhibited no traces of the fierce battle that had been waged withinhim. He took the seat that had been provided for him in front of hispavilion, and apparently surrendered himself to the full enjoyment ofthe games, which, by now, were in full swing. He even stamped his feet,clapped together his hands, and "bravaed!" with as unrestrained avociferance as the most boisterous onlooker in the field.
Beginning next the stand, Sir Richard's tent was the first. Immediatelybeside it, Tyrrell's had been pitched. The redoubtable Bull Bengough's,who did not put in his appearance till well along in the day, was setbeside the gate, the final one of the row.
The young knight remarked well his appearance as he shot into the liststo meet the victor of every preceding combat. The champion up to thathour.
His horse was a silver-gray stallion, broad hoofed, with fetlockssweeping from above them to the ground. In the matter of giganticproportions, the warrior bestriding its broad, round back, was inperfect keeping with the steed. He was harnessed in a suit of highlypolished steel armor, fluted and damascened. He wore his beaver up, andthe features displayed within the opening of his casque were singularlybrutal. His eyes were like two glittering beads, hard and pitiless.Above them his black brows marked an uninterrupted and nearly straightline from temple to temple.
When everything was ready and the signal had been given, Bull Bengoughcharged, bellowing like his bovine namesake, upon his adversary. Bysheer force of his superior weight and strength he vanquished hisantagonist. Without making the slightest show of acknowledgment ofthe loud burst of acclamation that greeted his prowess, he rode on tothe southern extremity of the lists, where he drew rein, disdainfullyawaiting the signal to have at his next opponent.
With the customary long preamble, the heralds announced Sir Richard'sname. Two grooms led his stallion to the front of his pavilion. Leapinglightly into his saddle the young knight cantered his horse toward hisallotted station in the field.
His name was called through many pairs of lips as he passed beneath thestand. The young knight had won many friends and fair adherents duringhis stay in Castle Yewe. He signified his appreciation of their goodwishes by reining to a halt before the stand and bowing gracefully tothe spectators. There followed a renewed burst of applause and laughterwhen his stallion gravely bent his head, as though in a similaracknowledgment. It was a pretty trick, and one that Sir Richard hadspent a great deal of time and patience to teach.
Now, with casques tight closed, Bull Bengough and Sir Richard wereawaiting the signal to charge. There was a sinking of many-coloredscarves beneath a sea of staring, tense-drawn faces. A profound silencesettled over all the field.
They shot away together at the first note of the trumpeted signal. Fromthe start Sir Richard couched his lance at Bull Bengough's helmet.As well might he have attempted to overthrow one of the Pyramids ofEgypt, as to have essayed the upsetting of his burly antagonist throughengaging the center of his impregnable shield. On account of the youngknight's lesser weight, and the superior nimbleness of his horse'shoofs, he met Bengough a yard or more beyond the center of the listsand well within his own territory.
The extreme bulk of his great body rendered the impact of Bengough'streelike lance against Sir Richard's shield like a collision with amountain avalanche. The young knight felt himself shaken to the verybackbone. If the wood had held, it might have been that Bengough wouldhave sustained his wide reputation by sweeping his antagonist offhis seat. Luckily for the young knight, however, it shattered to thegrasp, and, with speed but slightly diminished, Sir Richard rode onthrough, with his lance's head wedged fast between the eye-slits of hisadversary's helm.
After that it was like sliding a filled hogshead backward off ofa moving platform. Sir Richard fancied that he was sensible of atrembling of the earth when Bull Bengough alighted upon it.
Thereupon, amid the loud huzzas of the spectators, the young knightrode to the front of his pavilion and commanded his squire to bring himthe red-striped lance. Tyrrell, his next opponent, was riding slowlynorthward to take his place there at the end of the lists.
Compared with his meeting with Bengough, Sir Richard's contact with theknight in black was almost featherlike in its softness. Their lances,couched well and true, both shattered to their grasps.
It became now the young knight's turn to take the northern stand forthe next course. He looked southward toward the open gate. It waschoked with humanity, swaying this way and that in wide, serpentinecurves. The task of clearing an open space there had already begun.
Upon the sound of the trumpet's blast they made for the meeting placein the lists. But the knight in black was no
t for a moment in SirRichard's eye. He saw but the gate, and within it the crowd of denselypacked peasantry. Beyond opened out a wide sweep of sloping downs, offree roadways, and welcome forest glades.
He had a fleeting picture as he flashed beneath the arched gateway ofa line of determined, stern-faced, brawny men pushing and thrustingas though their very lives depended upon it. They contrived to clearhim the narrowest of avenues, which closed together when he had passedthrough like the waters of a riven sea.
Sir Richard stole a swift look above his shoulder. Tyrrell, moving ata snail's pace, was vainly endeavoring to free himself from the livingmass that was eddying about him. Like a pair of long flails, he waswaving his arms above his head, and calling down the wrath of Heavenupon his late antagonist for not halting. In the present case histalents as an actor were standing him in good stead. Behind him menwere streaming wildly from the stand. Just as the young knight plungedwithin the forest shadows he heard a bugle wind the _tucket-sonuance_.
Throwing aside the now useless lance, Sir Richard stretched low alonghis stallion's neck and sent him pounding over the frozen road at topspeed.