CHAPTER XXI
OF HOW SIR RICHARD LISTENED TO A STORY IN THE FOREST
When Sir Richard came again into the outer hut Tyrrell was setting apot to boil upon the fire. As he bent above the red blaze, droppingpinches of various herbs within the kettle the while he peered closely,from time to time, into the open pages of a book lying beside him upona stool, he minded the young knight of a black wizard, engaged inweaving some unholy incantation.
"Bear me company over the hills, Sir Richard," he said presently,setting the now steaming pot upon the ground. "We must procure usanother herb to complete the nostrum. I' faith, and what a smell ishere!" he added, taking up a staff and starting, lame and halting, forthe door. "But 'tis as efficacious to the body, withal, as the odor isdispleasing to the nostrils."
Sir Richard noted Tyrrell's strange demeanor as they moved slowly fromhillock to hillock. When his keen eyes were not bent upon the earth,they would be regarding him with an intent and somewhat of an inquiringglance.
Times he would kick aside a plant, stoop with a painful deliberation,and convey a fragment of its root or leaf to his lips. If it happenedto be of the kind of which he was in search, he would unearth it withthe point of his mailed foot and continue upon his way. Though by nowhe was carrying a considerable quantity of the herbs, he was making nomove to return. Several times he appeared upon the point of speaking,but always his glance would fall swiftly from that of his companionand engage the ground at his feet. In this silent manner they drew, atlength, within the shadows of the wood.
"A strange foreboding of some direful happening doth rest heavily uponmy mind," he said then. "Our grasp on life is indeed a slender thing,and easily broken. Mayhap 'twould be the better part of wisdom to saysome things to thee here ... and now." He paused, measuring the youngknight carefully with his eye.
"Dost know, Sir Richard," he said then, after somewhat of an impulsivemanner, as he went stirring about with his staff among the fallenleaves, "that in history I shall ever be written down as a base andcowardly murderer? Thou hast belike heard the dismal story of the boyprinces in the Tower?"
"In very truth, I have," Sir Richard made answer.
"'Tis known of the whole world, I doubt not," he gloomily pursued. "Andyet ... and yet, I was but plotting ... plotting deeply, daringly ...to save their precious lives. Hark ye, Sir Richard ... and mark theewell that which I am about to say. An it were not for a fiendish knave,called Forrest,--upon whom God's direst curse rest!--they had been bothsaved to England.
"Forrest, learning of the command laid upon me by King Richard foullyto murder both his nephews whilst they did sleep, procured quittanceof the keys from Brakenbury and smothered the younger prince beforeI rushed, with Dighton, my groom, into the Tower room. Commanding myfaithful servant to put pillow lightly above the mouth of the livingprince, the Duke of York, I bade Forrest instantly to carry tidings oftheir death to the bloodless rooting hog, who was gnawing his nails andawaiting news in the palace. With Forrest safe dispatched to the King,we hastily garbed the prince in kirtles, thus giving him the semblanceof a young maid. My men were waiting by the side of the Tower gate ...they brought him safe to Scotland."
"But----"
"Nay ... prithee, listen!" he said, seating himself upon alightning-riven log, whilst Sir Richard took stand against itssplintered, upright trunk. "The royal youth was fair-haired, pale andsickly. All my cunning arts were impotent to stay the implacable handof death. Thus, Sir Knight, did the young Duke pass into oblivion ...beneath my very roof, and here in bleak Scotland. I durst not evenacclaim his passing; but laid him, then, within an unmarked, though notan unmourned, grave. Slowly, stealthily, but surely, I had been massinga power behind him that would have swept him straight upon England'sthrone. Upon either coast, Sir Richard, this power is still augmenting.Ships speed me soldiers from France and Spain upon the east, and fromHolland and Italy upon the west." He paused for a space, then,--"Dostfind my tale interesting?" he asked.
"Above any I have ever heard," Sir Richard told him.
"And what wouldst thou say," he resumed, raising his hand impressively,"an I swore to thee that I had found a brave-hearted and goodly youthwhose right to a seat upon the throne of England took precedence overthat of the usurper now sitting there? A tyrant ... who gave warrantof death into the hands of his God-brother, and laid command uponhim to deliver it upon that brother's executioner ... what wouldstthou say--Sir Richard Rohan, Earl of Warwick, son of Edward, Duke ofClarence?"
Sir Richard felt as though the meshes of a far-spread net were droppingdown about him.
"I cannot say.... Even I cannot think!" he cried, burying his face inhis arms.
"Thou art but a brave-hearted, artless youth, Sir Richard ... Sire.Enough hast thou heard to-day to turn the head of Caesar. Think uponwhat I have said ... upon what I have yet to say ... and make answerat thy calmer leisure," said Tyrrell in a manner of voice dignified,pacific, kind. Then, reaching across, he grasped the young knight's armand drew him to a seat beside him upon the fallen log.
"Once Lord Douglas," he then resumed, "was sworn ally of mine; but acraven traitor, whom we now know to be the Renegade Duke of Buckingham,carried tidings of the prince's death and my untoward interest in thywelfare into Castle Yewe. Twice since thy coming have the Douglasforces given me battle.... And yet, without the warrants, he cannot beacquainted with thy true identity ... 'tis passing----"
"But I had duplicates of the warrants," Sir Richard said to him; "thewhich you may be sure I made haste to deliver."
"Duplicates!"
"Sewn within my doublet--they were passed over in thy search."
"God in Heaven absolve me for this inadvertence!" roared Tyrrell,getting to his feet, and, in seeming forgetfulness of his infirmities,strode furiously back and forth above the brown and crackling leaves."Much, indeed, is now made plain to me. Yet ... after losing hishold of him," he went on, communing with himself, "why did Douglas sostoutly maintain his position ... there remains no other claimant ...'tis passing strange--passing strange!"
For some time thereafter he continued setting restless footfalls amidstthe carpet of dead leaves, clenching his hands and biting his thin lips.
Upon a sudden Sir Richard recalled the circumstance of the fair-hairedyouth imprisoned in Castle Yewe.
"Mayhap I can lesson thee of some things, Sir James," he volunteered.
"Then thou wilt discover in me a right willing listener," said Tyrrell,seating himself again upon the riven log.
So, briefly as might be, and clearly as he could compass it, SirRichard related the story of the secret passageway and of Lady Douglas'daily teaching of the imprisoned youth.
"Ah! what monstrous iniquity!" Tyrrell cried when his companion hadfinished, thrusting his staff deep into the black mould. "Now iseverything made transparent ... as plain as the haps of yesterday! Sofalse Douglas would impose him a counterfeit prince upon the credulouspeople of England? Marry! marry! to what depths of dishonor doth selfambition lead us! But what saidst thou was this youth's name, SirRichard?"
"Perkin Warbeck."
"I' faith I know it not. Some yeoman's son, forsooth. Poor boy! an hefollow this adventure to its end, he'll be gazing upon his body fromanother view-point than atop his shoulders. But more upon this samesubject when we are come into the Tavern. Let all of that which hasbeen said to thee to-day assimilate perfectly with thy understanding.Papers shall be laid before thee in substantiation of all mystatements."
Stooping, Tyrrell took up the herbs which he had gathered by the way.
"Let us now return and finish the brewing of good de Claverlok'snostrum," he said.