CHAPTER XXVIII.

It was on the day following that which saw the visit of Guy de Margan

to Richard de Ashby, that the two lovers stood together at the open

casement of one of the magnificent rooms in Lindwell Castle, with joy

in their hearts, such as they had never before known in life. They had

thought, indeed, during the journey from Eltham to Nottingham, that it

was hardly possible anything so bright and sweet could last as the

dream-like and uncertain delight which they then enjoyed in each

other's society, in the sort of toleration which their love received,

and in the hopes to which that toleration gave rise. But now Hugh de

Monthermer had come with happier tidings still; and, with his arm

circling her he loved, her hand clasped in his, and her head leaning on

his shoulder, he told her that her father had been with him for an hour

that day, previous to his noon visit to the King, and had given his

decided consent to their union. He had expressed some doubts, the lover

said, as to her brother Alured's view of the matter, but had promised

to take upon himself the task of bringing his son's fiery and

intractable spirit to reason; and certain it is that when the young

nobleman left Nottingham Castle to proceed with his small train to

Lindwell, the Earl of Ashby had fully and entirely made up his mind to

bestow his daughter's hand upon Hugh de Monthermer with as little delay

as possible.

Nor was it merely caprice which had produced so favourable a change of

feeling in the present instance, although he was by nature, it must be

confessed, somewhat capricious and undecided. He had always liked the

young knight, even when the two houses of Ashby and Monthermer were

opposed to each other in former days. He had once or twice bestowed a

caress upon the boy, when he had met him accidentally at the court of

the King, and Hugh had shown a degree of affection for him in return,

which had produced one of those impressions in his favour that time

strengthens rather than effaces.

Various circumstances had since caused him to vacillate, as we have

seen; but when after the battle of Evesham he found that Hugh was in

high favour with the gallant Prince, who had just saved his father's

throne, when he saw the way open before him to the brightest career at

the court of his Sovereign, and remembered at the same time that he

must inevitably unite in his own person all the power and fortune of

the two great branches of his noble house, he felt, that in a mere

worldly point of view, a better alliance could not be found throughout

the land.

He was, therefore, but little inclined to throw any obstacle in the

way; and during the progress down to Nottingham,--a progress which in

those times occupied sixteen or seventeen days--he perceived two facts

which fixed his resolution: first, that his daughter whom he loved

better than aught else on earth, had staked her happiness on a union

with Hugh de Monthermer; and next, that it was the earnest desire of

Edward--though the Prince did not make it a positive request, that no

obstacle should be thrown in the way of his friend's marriage with her

he loved.

Thus, he himself had, during that morning, led the way to a

conversation which ended in his promising Lucy's hand to Hugh de

Monthermer; and it had been arranged that, as the King, at the end of

two days, was to visit Lindwell and be there entertained for a week,

the announcement of the approaching marriage should be publicly made on

the morning of the Monarch's arrival.

Such were the happy tidings which Hugh himself bore over to Lucy, and

they now stood at that window gazing over the fair scene before their

eyes, with feelings in their hearts which can never be known but once

in life--feelings, the same in their nature and their character in the

bosom of each, though modified of course, by sex, by habits, and by

disposition. It was all joy and expectation and the looking forward to

the long bright days of mutual love; but with Lucy that joy was timid,

agitating, overpowering. All her gay and sparkling cheerfulness sunk

beneath the weight of happy hopes, as one sometimes sees a bee so

overloaded with honey that he can scarce carry his sweet burden home;

and she had neither a jest to throw away upon herself or any one else,

but, as we have said, stood quiet and subdued by Hugh de Monthermer's

side, his arm half supporting her, and her head leaning on his

shoulder. He, too, though always tender and kind towards her, seemed

softened still more, by the circumstances in which he was placed. Even

the eager love within his bosom controlled itself, lest its ardour

should alarm and agitate the gentle being, whom he now looked upon as

all his own. He soothed her, he calmed her, his caresses were light and

tender; and he even strove to win her thoughts away from the more

agitating parts of the subject on which they rested, to those which

would give her back firmness and tranquillity.

He called her mind back to the day they had spent together in the

forest, to the promises they had made, and to the restrictions she had

placed upon hers. He acknowledged that it was better she had done so,

but he added--"I may now ask you unhesitatingly, dear Lucy, to pledge

me here the vow that you will soon make at the altar, and to tell me

that you are mine, and will be for ever mine."

"Oh, willingly, willingly, now!" answered Lucy, withdrawing her hand

for a moment, and then giving it back again. "Yours I am, Hugh,

whatever betide--yours and none but yours,--yours through weal and woe,

through life, till death--oh, yes, and after death!" and she hid her

eyes for a moment on his bosom, with the sweet tears of happy emotion

rising is them till they well-nigh over-ran the dark fringed lid. Then,

turning again to the view before their eyes, they both gazed forth in

silence, with their hearts full and their minds busy.

Alas, poor lovers! they little knew that their fate was like the

changeful autumn day, whose clouds and sunshine were sweeping rapidly

over the wide forest scene on which they looked, now sparkling in the

full glory of light, and the next moment, ere one could see the storm

in its approach, dark and heavy with the raindrops rushing down, and

tearing the brown leaves from the fading trees.

One of those heavy showers had just cleared away, and the rays of the

sun were sparkling again over the jewelled ground, when, about an hour

after Hugh's arrival, a large and splendid train was seen coming across

the green slopes from Nottingham, betokening the return of the Earl. He

rode on quickly, and Lucy and her lover advanced into the richly carved

stone balcony, to wave the hand and welcome him back with looks that

spoke their gratitude and joy; but the Earl did not raise his eyes, and

both Hugh and his fair companion perceived, as he approached, that in

the train of the Earl were several gentlemen not belonging to his own

household.

A moment or two after, steps were heard ascending, and as they were

many, Lucy darted away through a small door which led, by another

staircase, to her own apartments, believing that her father was

bringing some strangers to the castle, and wishing to remove the traces

of recent agitation from her countenance before she met them.

Hugh de Monthermer was not long left alone. Lucy was scarcely gone when

the voice of the Earl of Ashby was heard speaking to some of those who

had accompanied him.

"Stay you here, gentlemen," he said, "he will return with you to the

King--be not afraid; I will be his surety.--Let me speak with him

first;" and the next instant the Earl entered the hall, with his eyes

bent upon the ground and a cloud upon his brow.

Though conscious of perfect innocence, and knowing of no danger that

was likely to befal him, the heart of Hugh de Monthermer sunk at the

words which he heard the Lord de Ashby utter. They came upon his ear

like the announcement of new misfortunes, of new obstacles between Lucy

and himself. It is true they might have meant a thousand other things,

they might have referred even to some other person, but how often do we

see a boy in the midst of a sunshiny holiday take alarm at the shadow

of a light cloud, and fancy that a storm is coming on. Hugh de

Monthermer was too brightly happy not to tremble lest his happiness

should pass away like a dream.

Advancing, then, rapidly towards the Earl, he said, with his usual

frank and generous bearing, "What is the matter, my noble lord? You

seem sad and downcast, though you were so gay and cheerful this

morning."

"Everything has changed since this morning, sir," answered the Earl,

"and my mood with the rest. The King forbids your marriage with my

daughter; and, as my consent was but conditional----"

Hugh's indignation would not bear restraint. "This is most unjust and

tyrannical"--he replied aloud; "but I do believe some one has poisoned

the King's mind against me, for until yesterday morning he was all

favour and kindness. Prince Edward is now absent, and some villain has

taken advantage thereof to abuse the Monarch's ear."

"Of that I know nothing," answered the Earl, coldly, "but at all events

he has forbidden the marriage--and consequently I require you to give

me back my plighted word that it should take place."

"Never!" exclaimed Hugh de Monthermer, vehemently, "Never!--I will

never be accessory to my own bitter and unjust disappointment.--You

may, my lord, if you will--but I do not think you will--you may break

your promise, you may withdraw your consent, but it shall be your own

act and none of mine. I stand before you here, as honest and innocent

of all offence as ever man was; and, if there was no cause this morning

why you should refuse me your dear daughter's hand, there is none now."

"There is--there is," cried the Earl, sharply,--"the King's express

command."

"Given upon some false showing," said Hugh de Monthermer. "I will go to

him this moment. I will dare my accusers to bring forward their charge

to my face. I will prove their falsehood upon them--first by show of

witnesses, and next by arms--and bitterly shall they repent the day

that they dared sully my name by a word. I know them,--I know who they

are, and their contrivances, right well. I had a warning of their being

near, last night.--I do beseech you, my lord, tell me, of what do they

accuse me? and fear not that I will soon exculpate myself."

"Nay, I know not, accurately, Hugh," replied the Earl, in a kindlier

tone than he had hitherto used. "I have heard, however, that there is a

charge against you, a general charge of conspiring with those enemies

of the state who have been striving to raise once more the standard of

rebellion in the North and in the marches of Wales."

"It is false--it is as false as hell!" cried Hugh; but then, after a

moment, growing calmer, he took the old Earl's hand, saying, "Forgive

me, my dear lord, if, in the heat of so bitter a disappointment, I have

said anything that could pain or offend you. Forgive me, I entreat

you--and promise me two things."

"What are they, my good lord?" demanded the Earl. "I will, if they are

meet and reasonable."

Hugh de Monthermer lowered his voice from the tone in which he had

before been speaking, and replied, "They are meet and reasonable, my

lord, or I would not ask them. First, promise me that the moment I am

gone you will write a letter to Prince Edward, telling him that his

humble friend, Hugh de Monthermer, is accused of crimes which he

declares he never dreamt of. Beseech him to return with all speed to

see justice done, and send the packet by a trusty messenger to Derby,

where the Prince now lies."

"I will--I will," answered the Earl; "it shall be done within an hour.

But what more, Hugh--what more?"

"This, my dear lord," replied the young nobleman,--"your messenger will

reach Derby to-night; and, if I know Prince Edward rightly, ere

to-morrow's sun be an hour declined from high noon, he will be in

Nottingham. I will beseech the King to wait till that moment, to hear

my full defence. What I ask then is, that you will meet me in the

presence, and, if you cannot lay your hand upon your heart and say that

you believe me guilty, you will renew your promise of dear Lucy's hand,

and urge the King with me to give his consent likewise."

The old Lord hesitated, but at length answered, "Well!"

"Then now farewell, my lord," said Hugh de Monthermer. "I must not stay

till your dear daughter comes. After the happy hour we passed but now

together, 'twould well-nigh break my heart to see her under other

circumstances."

Thus saying, he wrung the old man's hand, and strode towards the door,

but turning for an instant before he quitted the chamber, he saw that

the Earl stood fixed in the midst of the hall, with a hesitating air;

and he added, aloud, "You will not fail, my lord!"

"No, no," replied the Earl, "I will meet you at the hour you

named.--Fear not, I will not fail."

There was a wide landing-place between the top of the stairs and the

door of the hall; and Hugh de Monthermer found it crowded with

gentlemen belonging to Henry's court. The moment he appeared, Sir Guy

de Margan advanced towards him, saying, "Lord Hugh de Monthermer, I am

commanded by the King----"

But Hugh interrupted his address, frowning upon him sternly, "To summon

me to his majesty's presence!" he said. "I go thither, at once, sir,

and that is enough!--Take care, Sir Guy de Margan!" he added, seeing

him still approaching him; "remember, I am not fond of your close

presence!"--and he brought the hilt of his long sword nearer to his

right hand, striding onward to the top of the staircase, as he did so;

while the gentlemen who occupied the landing, not exactly liking the

expression of his countenance, made way for him on either side, and Guy

de Margan bit his lip with an angry frown, not daring to approach too

closely.

The young nobleman's horse, and the attendants who had accompanied him,

were ready in the court; and springing into the saddle, without giving

the slightest attention to those who followed, he shook his bridle

rein, and galloped on towards Nottingham. The others came after at full

speed: and both parties entered the city, and passed the gates of the

castle almost at the same moment. Dismounting from his horse, Hugh

proceeded at once towards the royal apartments, leaving several of the

pages and attendants behind him, unquestioned, on his way. In the

ante-room of the audience chamber he met William de Valence, for the

time one of the prime favourites of the Monarch; and stopping him, he

asked, "Can I speak with his Majesty, my Lord of Pembroke? I find I

have been accused wrongfully, and must clear myself."

"His Grace expects your lordship," answered the Earl, with an icy look;

"but he expects to see you in custody."

"There was no need, sir," replied Hugh; "I fear not to meet my King,

and never need force to make me face my foes. Will you bring me to the

presence--that is all I require."

"Follow me, then," said the Earl; and opening the door, he announced

the arrival of the young knight to Henry, who immediately ordered him

to be brought in.

The Monarch was seated near a table, with the Lord Mortimer standing by

him. They were apparently jesting upon some subject, for both were

smiling when Hugh de Monthermer entered; but the moment the weak and

tyrannical Sovereign's eyes fell upon him, an angry scowl came upon his

countenance, which brought King John strongly back to the minds of

those who remembered that feeble and cold-blooded Prince.

"So, sir," said Henry, "you have come of your accord, to meet the

reward of your high merits!"

"I come, your Grace," replied Hugh, bowing low, "to meet my accusers in

your royal presence, and to give them the lie in their teeth, if they

dare to charge me with any act contrary to my allegiance or my duty."

"What!" said the King--"was consorting with De Montfort, was fighting

at Evesham, not contrary to your allegiance?"

"Oh! my lord," answered Hugh, "if the charge goes as far back as that,

I must plead both your Grace's special pardon, and your general amnesty

to all who laid down their arms, made submission, and offended not

again!"

"But you have offended again," exclaimed the King; "that is the chief

charge against you."

"And whoever does make it," replied Hugh de Monthermer, "is a false and

perjured traitor, and I will prove it upon him, either by investigation

before your Majesty, or by wager of battle--my body against his, with

God for the judge."

"Nay--nay, sir," said Henry, "we know your strength and skill in arms

right well; and this is not a case where we will trust plain justice to

be turned from its course by a strong arm and a bold but perverse

heart. We ourselves will be your accuser, with whom there can be no

wager of battle; and those we call to prove your crime shall be but

witnesses."

"My lord, that cannot be," replied Hugh, boldly. "My King will never be

judge and accuser, both in one."

"Then you shall have other judges," cried the Monarch; "your peers

shall judge you. But, if you be truly innocent, you will not scruple

now to answer at once the charges made against you."

"It is for that, I come," replied the young knight. "Unprepared, not

knowing what these charges are, I come to meet them as I may. I pray

you, let me hear them."

While he and the King had been speaking, a number of new faces had

appeared in the audience chamber, comprising all those who had followed

the young nobleman from Lindwell; and Henry, running his eye over them,

exclaimed--"Stand forth, Guy de Margan--and you, Hugh Fitzhugh--and

you, Sir William Geary, come near also, and say of what you accuse Lord

Hugh de Monthermer."

"'Faith, sire," replied Sir William Geary, with his usual sarcastic

grin, "I accuse the noble knight of nothing. I was at the pass of arms

at Northampton, my lord, when he unhorsed the four best lances in the

field. Now, I never was particularly strong in the knees, and,

moreover, am getting somewhat rusty with years; so God forbid that I

should accuse any man who talks of the wager of battle. When I heard

it, I trembled almost as much as Sir Guy de Margan here."

"It is false! I trembled not!" exclaimed Sir Guy.

"True--true," answered the other, "you only shook, and looked sickly."

"Sir William Geary," cried the King, "this is no jesting matter! Speak

what it was you told me that you saw."

"I saw a fat monk," replied Sir William Geary, whose inclination for a

joke could hardly be restrained--"a jolly monk as ever my eyes rested

upon, and this fat monk, sire," he continued, more seriously, seeing

that the King was becoming angry, "stopped, and asked his way to the

apartments of the noble lord. He jested as wittily with Sir Harry Grey

as a court fool does with a thick-headed country lad; but when he had

gone on his way, Sir Guy de Margan here, a very serious and reputable

youth, as your Majesty knows, told me, in mysterious secrecy, that the

friar was a very treacherous piece of fat indeed--a traitor's

messenger--a go-between of rebels--a personage whom he had himself

known with Sir William Lemwood and the rest, in the marches of Wales.

So, inviting him sweetly into my chamber, we two watched together for

the monk's going forth from this noble lord's apartments which was not

for more than an hour. In the meanwhile, pious Sir Guy entertained me

with his shrewd suspicions, of how the monk and the valiant knight were

hatching treason together, which, as you know, sire, is a cockatrice's

egg, laid by male fowls, and hatched by dragons looking at it. A

very pretty allegory of a conspiracy, if we did but read fools for

fowls--that by the way; but to return to my tale:--the monk at length

appeared in the courtyard again, and shortly after the Lord Hugh de

Monthermer, him following. Thereupon; one of those irresistible

inclinations which set the legs in motion, whether man will or not,

seized upon me and good Sir Guy; and drawn as if by that rock of

adamant on which the Earl is fixed, we pursued, without power of

resistance, the path of knight and friar. Just at the gate of the city

we found our ascetic friend mounted on a mule, and holding a horse for

his knightly acquaintance, on which we saw the gallant Lord spring, and

after that they rode away together. This is all I have to say, sire,

and what I have said is true; but far be it from me to take any

accusation against a knight who can squeeze a horse to death between

his two knees, or stop a charger in full course by catching hold of an

iron ring, and grasping the beast with his two legs."

"What have you to answer, sir?" demanded the King, turning to Hugh.

"Simply that I saw a monk yesterday, sire," replied the young nobleman,

"and that he stayed with me nearly an hour, talking much of venison,

and somewhat of hunting. He may, from his language, have committed the

crime of taking a fat buck when he had no right to do so; but, by my

faith, that is the only treason I should suspect him of, and not one

word did he utter in my presence, either about risings, rebellions, or

aught else that could move your royal displeasure."

"Ha! what say you to this, Sir Guy de Margan?" asked the King. "Tell

us, who is this friar? Is he a rebel, or is he not?"

"Notoriously so, my lord," replied Guy de Margan. "I found him with

Lemwood and the other traitors, to whom you, sire, sent me for the

purpose of negotiation; and it would seem that he had come to comfort

them with promises of assistance from the North."

"But yet that does not prove," said Mortimer, "that the Lord Hugh held

any treasonable converse with him. His business with that good lord

might have been of a very simple kind."

Malevolent injustice becomes most dangerous when it assumes the garb of

equity; and Mortimer, who knew the whole that was to come, only assumed

the style of an impartial judge, that his after persecution of the

young nobleman might seem dictated by a sense of justice.

"It might have been so, indeed," replied Guy de Margan, "had it but

been a visit from the friar to my Lord of Monthermer; but their setting

forth together would seem strange; and the secrecy observed in the monk

quitting the castle first, and the knight following at a little

distance, renders it more strange still. Perhaps Lord Hugh will

condescend to explain why he went, and where."

"Methinks," answered Hugh, "that the honourable spies who crept after

my footsteps from the castle to the town gate, might have carried their

inquiries a little farther, when they would have saved the necessity of

such questions here."

"In regard to one point," said Hugh Fitzhugh, a large, burly Norman

gentleman--"in regard to one point, I, at least, can give some

explanation. What he went for I can but divine, but where he went I

know right well. He rode out with all speed to the forest, for I saw

him there with this same monk they mention. The truth is, I had

somewhat missed my way; and coming through some of the by-paths of the

wood, I suddenly chanced upon a party of five persons in deep and

earnest conversation. Three of them had vizards on their faces, too,

and the two that were unmasked were Hugh de Monthermer and the friar we

have heard of. Now, my lord the King, unless he explain that, we have

no explanation at all. But your wisdom will judge."

"Let him explain, if he will," said the King, "or rather, if he can. I

doubt it much; but I am willing to hear."

"My lord," replied Hugh de Monthermer, "for once in their lives these

noble gentlemen have told the truth: I did go out after the priest; I

did accompany him into the forest; I did meet three men there--but with

no evil purpose; nor did one word transpire which any man could call

treason."

"Who were the men you went to see?" demanded the King.

"Nay, sire," replied Hugh, "you must forgive me, if I give not their

names. My accusers, if they charge me with crime, must show that I have

been guilty of it. Now no such thing is even attempted to be proved.

All that they assert is, that I spoke with a friar, rode out with a

friar, and was seen conversing with three unknown persons in Sherwood.

If this be held as treason, God defend the innocent!"

"But, my good lord," said Mortimer, to whom the King turned his eyes,

"it is shown that this friar, who took you forth to speak with three

other men, is himself a notorious traitor, and you must show that the

others were not so also, or the imputation will lie against you of

consorting with, and concealing the counsel of, the King's enemies."

"Which is a high crime, my lord," added Henry, sternly.

Hugh de Monthermer gazed down thoughtfully on the ground for a moment,

for he found that he was placed in a situation of much greater

difficulty and danger than he imagined; but looking up at length, he

answered, "My lord the King, I am here in this presence without friends

or counsellors to aid or to assist me. I have come without forethought

or preparation, as fast as my horse would hear me, to answer a charge,

cunningly contrived beforehand by my enemies. I do beseech you, give me

but four-and-twenty hours to consider well how I ought to act. If I may

have any one to advise with me, I shall esteem it as a grace; but if

not, at all events let me have time for thought myself. I know that I

can prove my innocence, beyond all doubt, if I have time to do it."

"You shall have time and counsel too," replied the King, "but it shall

be under custody. My Lord of Mortimer, attach him in our name. Let him

be conveyed to his chamber; set a strong guard upon the door; and give

access to any one of his servants, but not more, that he may have free

leave to send for what counsellor he will; let that counsellor visit

him; and as he asks for four-and-twenty hours, bring him before us

again at this same time to-morrow."

The Earl of Mortimer took a few steps forward, as if to attach the

young nobleman for high treason, but Hugh de Monthermer bowed his head,

saying, "I surrender myself willingly, my lord, and fixing my full

reliance on the King's justice, await the event of to-morrow without

fear."

He then left the presence under the custody of Mortimer, and was

conducted to the chamber which he had occupied since his arrival at

Nottingham, and which comprised, as was usually the case with those

assigned to noblemen of high rank, a bed-room for himself, and an

ante-room, across the entrance of which one or two of his attendants

usually slept, barring all dangerous access to their lord during the

night.

Having beckoned some of the King's guard as they passed along, Mortimer

stationed two soldiers at the door of the ante-room, and took measures

for their regular relief on the rounds. He then entered with his

prisoner, and finding stout Tom Blawket in the ante-room, he asked

whether the young nobleman would choose him as the attendant who was to

be permitted to wait upon him, or would send for any other.

"I should have asked for him, my lord, had I not found him here,"

replied Hugh. "I thank you for your courtesy, however, and trust that

the time may come when, having proved my innocence, I may repay it."

"I hope to see you soon at liberty," rejoined Mortimer, with a dark

smile; and retiring from the chamber, he ordered another guard to be

stationed at the foot of the staircase.

No sooner was he gone, than Hugh called the stout yeoman into the inner

room, and bade him shut the door.

"Nay, look not downcast, Blawket," he said, as the man entered with a

sad and apprehensive look, "this storm will soon pass away. Indeed, it

would have been dissipated already, but that I was embarrassed by a

matter which will be joyful tidings to you."

"I know what you would say, my lord," replied the good yeoman, "for,

since we have been here, I have heard of the noble Earl. That urchin

boy who served you some time at Hereford, sprang up behind me one day

when I was crossing the forest, and told me all about it."

"Well, then, Blawket," continued Hugh, "no time is to be lost; get to

your horse's back with all speed, and ride along upon the east side of

Sherwood, taking the Southwell road till you come to the _Mere mark_--a

tall post painted with red stripes--There turn into the wood for some

five hundred yards, and sound three mots upon your horn, whoever comes

to you, will lead you to my uncle. Tell him I have been watched; that

the man who passed while we were speaking together yesterday recognised

me; and combining that fact with others, has given a face of truth to

an accusation of treason against me. Show him that I dare not say who

it was I met, lest the forest should be searched and his retreat

discovered. When twenty-four hours are over, however, I must speak, if

I would save my head from the axe, for I see that there is a dark

conspiracy against me, and I am without support. Beseech him to put as

many miles as may be between himself and Nottingham, ere this hour

to-morrow, for the King's wrath burns as fiercely against him as ever.

Away, good Blawket--away!--Should any one stop you, and ask you where

you are going, say for Master Roger More, a clerk well skilled in the

laws, and lose no time."

"I will not spare the spur, my lord," replied Blawket, and withdrew,

leaving Hugh de Monthermer in meditations, which were sad and gloomy,

notwithstanding all his efforts to convince himself that no real danger

hung over him.