A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

  CHAPTER VIII.

  _STORMY SCENES._

  "Have a care how thou dost answer me, Mistress; I am not one who brookstrifling!"

  "I have never trifled with thee, Roger de Horn," answered the maidenaddressed, speaking firmly though gently. "Methinks thou dost forgetthyself in speaking such words to me to-day."

  The dark face of Roger was deeply flushed. He looked as though he hadbeen drinking--as indeed was probably the case; at any rate he was veryangry, and his words came hissing from between his teeth in a fashionnot pleasant to hear.

  "Not trifled with me, quotha? Canst thou look me in the face and saythat?--whilst the love-token that thou didst give me lies now upon myheart!"

  The face of Linda Balzani flushed deeply, partly with anger, partly withmaiden modesty. She drew herself away with a gesture full of simpledignity.

  "I have given thee no token," she said. "If thou hast received aught, itmust be from the hands of my sister. I know nothing of any token."

  "What!" cried the young man, the flush mounting even to his brow, "wiltthou deny the kiss that thou didst bestow upon me out in the greenwoodon Midsummer Eve, and the token thou didst give me as proof of thylove?"

  Linda drew away yet a little farther, and glanced round the room asthough seeking some way of exit. The excitement in Rogers manner wasunpleasant, and the claim he was making upon her was revolting. She hadalways disliked this braggart, even though treating him with civility asher brother's friend. Of late she had come to dislike him more and more,and to shrink from his approach as one shrinks from the proximity ofsome noisome reptile. She had fancied that her sister had of late beenseeking the society of Roger with pleasure; which thing rather perplexedher, because in private Lotta never masked her dislike and contempt forthe bully and swaggerer, and of late had been more severe in herstrictures than ever.

  The very thought of what had taken place under the greenwood trees uponMidsummer Eve brought a flush to Linda's brow and a throb to her heart.Was it not then and there that Hugh le Barbier had breathed into herears some words so full of music that the echo of them had never leftthem since? She had scarce dared to think what those words might imply.She was content to dream rather than to think, and she had lived indreamland almost ever since. To be spoken to thus was unendurable, andthe spirit of the maiden was roused.

  "Methinks, sir, that thou hast been drinking, and hast overheated thyblood," she said, rising as if to leave the room. "I spoke scarce threewords to thee upon that Midsummer Eve. I have done nothing and saidnothing to warrant the claim thou dost make. Prithee let me go; I havehad enough of this."

  But Roger planted himself before the door, his sombre eyes glowing withpassion.

  "Beshrew me if thou be not a false and fickle jade! But I will brooknone such answer from thee. See here--behold the token! Wilt thou dareto look upon it and tell me it was never thine?"

  Linda looked, and started slightly. It was indeed a little trinket thathad belonged to her for years. As a child she used to carry it as acharm about her neck; but latterly she had ceased to do this. She hadnot even missed it from the box where she kept it together with a fewmore little keepsakes and girlish treasures. How it had come into thepossession of Roger she could not imagine. He saw her start, and hiseyes gleamed.

  "So!--thou dost not dare to deny the witness of thine eyes!"

  "The heart was once mine," answered Linda quietly, "but I have not seenit for many weeks. I never gave it thee. It must have fallen into thehands of another, and so have come to thine. Let me pass, sir; we havehad something too much of this already."

  "What!" he cried furiously, "thou dost own to the trinket, but dost denythe gift? Thinkest thou that I will endure to be flouted thus?"

  "I flout thee not, sir; I do but speak sooth. I gave thee no trinket--Igave thee no kiss. I have never bestowed upon thee aught save that meedof friendship which my brother's friend has a right to look for."

  He grasped her slim wrist in his strong hand. He brought his swarthyface and flashing eyes close to her shrinking face.

  "Thou didst give me much more than that till _he_ came amongst us--theupstart, the fine gentleman, the fop with the smooth speech and daintydress! Thinkest thou I have not seen it all--how that thou dost seek toplay us one against the other? But thou shalt never make a tool of me; Iwill have all or nothing! And I will wring the neck of any man who shalldare come betwixt me and my love!"

  The last words were hissed rather than spoken, and so cruel and fiercewas the aspect of the speaker that Linda tore herself suddenly away anduttered a shriek of fear.

  The next moment the door was quickly opened from without, and JoannaSeaton appeared, with Lotta a little behind her, the latter wearingrather a strange look upon her handsome, haughty face, whilst her gazeglanced rapidly from one to the other of the occupants of the room.

  "Is aught amiss?" asked Joanna quickly; "methought that I heard a call."

  Roger turned upon his heel with one sinister glance over his shoulder,and made as if to depart.

  "I will finish what I have to say another day," he observed, "when thouart in a better frame for listening, fair Mistress Linda, and when thouhast something refreshed thy memory."

  "What does he mean?" asked Joanna, as Roger clanked down the stairs andLinda sank trembling upon a couch.

  "He is a bad man--I fear and I hate him!" she cried in pantingbreaths.--"Lotta, what hast thou done that he should say such things tome? It must have been thy doing! He has the agate heart that once Iwore. None can have given him that but thou. And thou must have givenhim other tender tokens too, for he speaks of things of which I knownaught. Sister, thou doest not well to show treachery to thine own fleshand blood!"

  Lotta tossed her handsome head, and a flush crept into her dusky cheek.Of late the likeness between the sisters had grown somewhat less. Asoftness and subtile charm had crept over Linda, whilst Lotta, thoughhandsome as ever, had seemed to grow harder and more defiant in herproud beauty. Mistakes between the pair were of less frequentoccurrence, and although it would be easy for Lotta to personate hersister of set purpose, the difference between them was becoming moreclearly marked day by day.

  "What now, Linda?" quoth the other; "thou art always fancying some newthing. I have scant patience with thy whims. What do I know of thytrinkets, or of thy lovers? Thou art like a skilful bowman, who has asecond string to his bow ready to hand. But when thou dost find thatsuch a game has its perils, and that thou art playing with edge tools,prithee do not seek to drag me in to help thee out of the slough. It isa paltry trick, and unworthy of thy name."

  "But Lotta--"

  "Peace, child! I will hear no more. I am sick to death of thee and thylovers! Let me alone. Manage thine own affairs as thou wilt, but no wordshalt thou have from me. Go, and do as thou dost choose. Play them oneagainst the other, and see what comes of it. I will have nothing to dowith the matter; it is no concern of mine."

  And Lotta swept out of the room with her whirlwind air of displeasure,whilst Linda looked in perplexity at Joanna, and asked piteously,--

  "Why is she so changed to me?"

  "I fear me it is jealousy," answered Joanna, who had seen a great dealduring the weeks that the twins had been with them. Joanna had beenfriendly with both from childhood, but had always liked Linda best. Nowshe began to find that she loved Linda and rather disliked and fearedLotta. There was something wild and untamed in her nature, and herconduct towards her sister often provoked the indignation of theonlooker.

  "Jealousy!" repeated Linda, with rising colour.

  "Ay, jealousy of what she sees betwixt thee and Hugh le Barbier,"answered Joanna. "Hast thou not seen that Lotta has gone nigh to loseher heart to yon courtly youth? I have observed it these many weeks, andonce I did think that he might return her regard; but it seems plainnow that his fancy has been elsewhere fixed, and poor Lotta has to bearthe pain of seeing it too."

  Linda's cheeks were scarlet; she faltered as she spoke.

  "Methought Lo
tta was pleased by the notice of Roger. I had thought thather fancy went that way."

  "Perchance it did--till Hugh appeared. But there can be no comparisonbetwixt the two, and Lotta has ambition. She would fain link her lot inlife with one who could raise her higher in the world. And Hugh hasprospects of becoming, if not a knight at least an esquire to some noblelord, in whose service he may rise high. It may be ambition rather thanlove; but be it what it may, it is bitter to her to see herself passedby for another. I think perhaps it is the more bitter because that otheris her sister, and so like to her in outward show that she cannotunderstand why she holds not an equal place in his heart."

  Linda's face was all aglow. It could not but be sweet to feel thatothers had read the secret of Hugh's attachment to herself; but, again,it pained her that her sister should regard her as a rival, and stillmore that she should stoop to subterfuge, and seek to embroil her withso dangerous a man as Roger de Horn.

  "What can it profit her to behave thus?" she asked of Joanna, when shehad told the whole story; "why should she seek to anger him thus againstme? It is cruel to me, and also to him, if indeed a creature so full offerocity has any room in his heart for the gentle passion of love."

  "Love is not always a gentle passion with natures such as his," answeredJoanna shrewdly; "and methinks I see what Lotta seeks to accomplish.She knows that thou hast a timid nature as compared with her own; andshe thinks, possibly, that Roger will terrify thee into compliance withhis wishes, or that doubt and distrust may be awakened in the heart ofHugh by what he hears and sees; in which case, perchance, he might turnto her for comfort. Such are the unworthy wiles of a jealous nature. Butit is playing a dangerous game to trifle with a creature so untamed andsavage as Roger. There is no knowing to what excesses his anger may leadhim."

  Linda shuddered slightly at the memory of the past scene.

  "Pray Heaven he hurt not Hugh!" she murmured. "He said he would wringthe neck of any man that dared to come betwixt him and his purpose!"

  "That is bad," said Joanna, looking grave. "I will speak to my brotherand also to Gilbert Barbeck, and tell them to give an eye to Hugh shouldany riot arise in the city, as is like."

  "Why is it like?" asked Linda anxiously.

  "Marry, because of all the excitements in the city during the sitting ofthis 'Mad Parliament,' as the King's friends have dubbed it. It has beenhard work to keep down rioting all these weeks; and men say they arecertain there will be some great collision ere long--we are never safefrom such in this place, as thou dost know. The marvel is that none suchtook place whilst the Parliament was sitting. Had it not been for thepresence within the walls of so many armed men under discipline, Iverily believe it would have done so."

  There was much truth in the words of this citizen maiden. Great had beenthe excitement ruling in Oxford during the days of the sitting of theGreat Council or Parliament, and great was the joy and triumph of thesupporters of De Montfort and the Barons at the result thereof.

  This is not the place in which to give a history of those Provisions ofOxford of which so much was heard during the following years of Henry'sreign. Suffice it to say that by those provisions the Barons obtainedfor themselves all that they desired, and for the time being the Kingwas little more than a puppet in their hands. They had no desire to makenew laws--that had never been a part of their purpose; what they aimedat was to rid themselves of illegal exaction, of feudal service, toobtain justice for themselves and others, and to rid the country of themultitudes of foreign favourites who were eating up the substance of theland, whilst its own sons had perforce to stand by empty-handed."England for the English" was in effect their cry; and their positionhaving been granted, steps were immediately taken to ensure the carryingout of the measure agreed upon.

  Those who desire information will find in every history book how thiswas done, and will read about the twenty-four nobles and men of highestate chosen in equal numbers by King and Barons--the Council ofFifteen, the Twelve Commissioners of Parliament, and the Twenty-fourCommissioners of the Aid.

  All this belongs to the region of history rather than to that offiction; but the result of this Parliament was that the King's power andthat of his foreign favourites was, for the time being, broken, and awave of enthusiasm and delight swept over the land, causing an outbreakof excitement and triumph which was quite enough to give anxiety to theauthorities in such a turbulent city as that of Oxford.

  The great Earl of Leicester was for the moment the idol of theUniversity. Whenever he appeared abroad he was hailed with shouts andcheers. His strong personality and the fascination of his manner wonupon the clerks and scholars, till they would have been ready to laydown their lives in his service. He received the adulation of the crowdwith a kindly dignity that won all hearts, and when it was found that hewas about to leave one of his sons behind him to study the Arts inOxford, public delight knew no bounds, and Amalric was almost as muchlauded and praised as his great father.

  But, of course, there was never unanimity in this turbulent body ofundisciplined youths. The very fact that the presence of De Montfortaroused in the breasts of many such unbounded enthusiasm, tended, as iffrom pure contrariety, to inflame others against him--to throw them intothe arms of the party who sided with the King, and called De Montfortand his friends sacrilegious usurpers of the power and authority whichhad been vested by God in His anointed servant.

  The monks were for the most part ardent supporters of the monarchy,whilst the friars unhesitatingly declared that the kingly power couldbe abused, and that, when this was the case, God Himself raised up menof right and might to turn the King's heart from his errors, and to bechampions of truth and freedom. Scripture precedents could, of course,be quoted on both sides, and controversy often raged fiercely. In an ageand in a place where disputation and argument was as the elixir of life,and where a man's fitness for promotion in the University depended muchon his oratorical powers and his ability to hold his own in some wordywarfare, it was likely enough that such burning questions as theseshould be discussed by high and low alike, with every weapon from thearmoury of logic and rhetoric.

  Although by this time the Parliament had broken up, the Barons had takenthemselves away, whilst the King had retired for a short time toWoodstock, and had then left that part of the country, controversy andexcitement still ran high. It seemed as if some sort of explosion musttake place ere the atmosphere was cleared, and the authorities were verywatchful to try to put down with a strong hand anything like streetrioting or disturbance.

  But the spirit of the time was too strong for them. The studentsthemselves seemed weary of good behaviour. How it originated noneexactly knew, but soon there was no hiding the fact that a greatjousting was to take place shortly in the meadow of Beaumont, where thevarious nationalities should try their prowess in feats of skill andstrength, and hold high revelling there such as was due to them upon thefeast of Holy Trinity; only that the presence of the King and Barons inOxford at that date had caused an adjournment of the holiday.

  At that time the holidays of the Church were nearly all that studentscould claim. There was no regular break in the lectures as now, and menremained for years at Oxford without thinking of visiting their homes.But they regarded these Church holidays somewhat jealously, and they,together with the Fair of St. Frideswyde, formed the chief interludes inthe monotony of University life.

  "Tito," said Roger de Horn, taking his friend by the arm and leading himdown a dark alley where none might see or hear them, "I have discoveredall too much. Both your sisters love yon upstart Hugh, and Linda willhave none of my wooing. I knew how it would be directly he crossed mypath. He has been mine enemy from first to last. He will undo us if weundo not him."

  Tito's eyes gleamed fiercely in the darkness.

  "Methought thou hadst some token from Linda, and that all was well," hesaid.

  "So had I; but now she flouts me, and denies it. She says that Lottamust have given it me. I could have sworn it was Linda; yet in thedarknes
s it is no easy matter to tell one from the other."

  "I would not wed Lotta were I in thy place," said Tito, with a shortlaugh. "She would run a stiletto through thy heart if thou didst angerher, as soon as kiss thee if thou didst please her. She is a veritableshrew when she is angered. Linda is a different sort. A man may lead heranywhere through her affections, or terrify her into submission. Itmatters little which, so we may win her to our purpose. I had thoughtthat all was going well."

  "And so did I, till I spoke with her a week since, and found her asadamant. I thought she was mine own till then; now I know that anotherhas her heart."

  Tito gave a short laugh that was somewhat like a snarl.

  "We must rid ourselves of that other then."

  "So said I," returned Roger promptly. "So told I my pretty fond love--"

  "Then thou wert a fool for thy pains," interrupted Tito roughly. "If theman be warned, we shall have trouble with him."

  "If the maid be frightened, she may come to her senses," retorted Roger.

  Tito shook his head slightly.

  "Thou dost not know what our southern women are made of," he answered."They love with a different love from your cold northerners, and yet thenorthern blood from their mother has given to both a prudence which maybe dangerous to our plan."

  Roger muttered something that sounded like a curse.

  "We will be a match yet for their prudence and their caution. Men havevanished from Oxford ere now, or have been found dead in the streets,and none have been the wiser for it. The Chancellor shakes his head; theother clerks clamour against the townsfolk, and perhaps a citizen isslain in reprisal; and then the matter is forgotten. What has beenbefore can be again. Her lover dead, and pretty Linda will soon forgether fancy; or, mourning for him, she will be the more easilypersuaded--and once we are sure of her, we can commence our plan, andwealth and renown will flow in upon us. We have all in readiness savethe high priestess of the mysteries!"

  "Hist, hist! have a care what thou dost say!" whispered Tito, in somealarm. "There is peril as well as profit in our plan. The black artfinds scant favour in the eyes of the Church. Men have perished at thestake ere now for dabbling even as deeply as we have done. Have a carewhat thou dost speak in the open streets."

  "Tush! none can hear," quoth Roger, with some contempt; "but as to theother matter, we must watch our chance and use it well. Men talk of thejoustings which will soon take place if this horrid rain will but cease,which is rotting the corn in the fields, and bringing famine to ourdoors. When man meets man in full tilt in the jousting-field, it cannotbe a very hard matter to run a lance into his eye, or even to pierce hisheart. Moreover there be other chances, if eyes are kept open. Leave yonupstart to me, and I will soon find a way of wiping off my score againsthim. I have played that game before now. I shall play it the moreskilfully for the practice I have had."

  "Well, well, do as thou wilt; only be cautious, for we want none of theChancellor's prison, and he watches over the lives and liberties of theclerks with jealous eye. Well enow should I like to see him cleared outof the path. I have no love for him, and he stands in the way of ourcherished plan."

  "He shall not stand so long," muttered Roger between his teeth; andthen the two men moved away along the dark and unsavoury lane, whilst ahead, which had been thrust out awhile ago from an upper window, was nowdrawn in, and Linda Balzani pressed her two hands to her throbbing brow.

  "What devils men can be!" she whispered. "What devilry is this that theyare desiring to practise, and in which I am to be their tool? Heavensend me strength and courage to thwart their evil schemes! O Hugh, mylove, my love! they shall not hurt thee if I can save thee. Twice warnedis thrice armed. I will save thee from their cruel malice, or I will diewith thee!"