Chapter XXVI: Of How a Fledgling Dropped From the Conspirator's Nest

The happy travelers found shelter for that night in the kind herdsman's cottage where Sir Richard had tarried whilst journeying with Isabel. The simple folk displayed a quite lively surprise upon observing that the maid with whom the young knight was now traveling was not the same. Sir Richard thought that mayhap they imagined that he was engaged upon the business of depopulating Scotland of her famous beauties. "There is just cause for such a supposition, i' truth," he added to himself.

"I ken weel," the good man said, a glint of Scot's humor in his eyes, "that 'e braw English laddies be unco daft. The muckle Auld Hornie be in 'e all! But 'e hae yin bonnie lassie with 'e, now, sir knight ... yin muckle cantie jo!" and with that he winked at Sir Richard in a knowing fashion.

His goodwife, a white-capped dame, busied herself in setting before them a "gigot" and a "bit kebbuck"; which translated and assimilated into English leg-o'-mutton and cheese. Bearing well in mind the company in which it was eaten, it would be a profanation to tell how thoroughly the young knight enjoyed that meal withal. But it must be confessed as well that the mulled ale was like a goblet of nectar to his palate.

They passed a long and happy evening, Rocelia and Sir Richard, sitting by the fire's side beneath the smoke-browned beams of the low-ceilinged kitchen. Intently she listened, with her soft eyes bent lovingly upon the young knight, the while he recounted the adventures through which he had passed. She laughed right heartily when he came to that part of his tale where he had rescued her cousin Isabel out of the Red Tavern; and told him how bitterly her uncle Zenas had misliked her cousin, though all the while standing in somewhat of fear of her sharp tongue. Rocelia had known of but three, she said, who had ever held the slightest place within Zenas' morbid affections. Of the three, she named first the hound, to whose life Sir Richard had put a quietus on that first night; then her father; and, last, herself. "Revenge and jealousy, I make no doubt, hath armed the crookback's hand against thee, dear," she said.

"Richard ... dear Dick," she whispered afterward, when it came to parting for the night, "since learning of all these base intrigues, these petty jealousies, these crafty plottings and counter-plottings, I am no whit sorry to see you leaving them all behind you. I would rather that my king should sit ever upon a three-legged stool than upon a velvet-tufted and silken-canopied throne won after these wicked fashions."

They were out betimes the next morning, albeit the day was none of the pleasantest; a thick fog having set in from the sea during the night. As they moved slowly over the downs Sir Richard remarked that the members of their little party seemed like gray and misty shadows moving against a pearly cloud.

Before the middle of the day they drew near the little hut where de Claverlok and Isabel would doubtless be waiting. It was fair blotted out in the mist, but Sir Richard could make out a vague and shadowy form sitting desolate upon a huge boulder by the roadside. Upon a nearer approach he recognized it to be the foot-boy Thomas. When he caught sight of the approaching company of three he came sliding down off the boulder, running to the young knight's side and embracing his greaved leg for very joy.

"Oh, sire!" he hoarsely whispered, "the very devil's to pay back there," jerking his thumb above his shoulder.

"And now, prithee, what is 't?" asked Sir Richard.

"Came yester morn, sir," he answered, "a great, tall, bearded knight,--with the two points of his mustachios turned skyward ... so,--vowing that he'd bear Mistress de Claverlok away with him or kill everyone in the place. My worshipful master was for having his sword at him upon the instant (and he, sire, but just able to be out of his bed). But Mistress de Claverlok bars the door and holds the murderous knight without. Even I may not be admitted. Hark ye!... I can hear him cursing even now. Thus does he carry on all the day. Why, sire, he stuck the good doctor from Bannockburn right in the middle ... here, sire ... like he were cutting him a cheese. By Saint Peter! but 'tis a parlous business!"

"Said you his name, Thomas?"

"He called himself the Renegade Duke ... and vowed that he ate sick knights for breakfast. Mistress Isabel doth mightily strive to keep the worshipful master indoors. An he could, he would get out, sire, and have him pinned like the fat doctor from Bannockburn."

"Vowed him he ate sick knights for breakfast, did he?" said Sir Richard grimly. "Mayhap, then, he'll relish a well one for dessert." Whereupon, in despite of Rocelia's admonishing cry, the young knight spurred into the mist toward the hut.

He saw the fellow clambering upon his saddle when he heard Sir Richard drawing near. The moment that he saw who was riding down upon him, the craven coward set spurs against his steed and made off at the top of his bent up the steep hill and quickly was swallowed up in the fog.

But what a boisterously glad reunion was there when, upon Sir Richard halloaing out his name, the hut door was unbarred and set open!

"By the mass, Sir Richard, but it doth mightily comfort me to clap eyes again upon thee ... eh! Weak as I am, boy, I'd have given yon miscreant somewhat of a battle ... eh. But Isabel would e'en padlock the door and thrust key in her bosom ... didst thou not, Dame de Claverlok? But tell me, Sir Richard, where hast thou been the while?"

By way of an answer Sir Richard went back and fetched Rocelia out of the fog cloud; whereupon the two maids fell into a rapturous embrace, shedding some happy tears whilst Sir Richard made haste to explain to de Claverlok the case in which they stood.

"Certes, boy, and I can procure thee a priest," shouted de Claverlok, responding to a whispered question in his ear.

Then; "Thomas! Thomas!" he bellowed; "post you hot-foot to the goodman who tied us a fine knot the week gone. Speed! Avaunt, boy! Have him here within the hour's quarter on your horse's back.... Begone!"

"They'll be after thee ... God! but they'll not let thee get free of their king-making clutches, an they can help. We'll be ready to journey coast-ward, Sir Richard, when the ceremony is over."

Happily, the foot-boy returned soon with the monk, whom de Claverlok and the rest succeeded in persuading to do office at Rocelia's and Sir Richard's wedding, placating him with a promise of another ceremony more in keeping with the dignity of the Church when they should have arrived at Bretagne. Besides requiting him quite handsomely for that day's services, they paid him to have masses said for the dead doctor outside; providing as well for a fitting burial of his body.

It set in to rain before the company of six was ready to start for Glasgow. As there had been even now too much precious time consumed, they decided to brave the weather and be at once upon their way. To their journey's end it was but something above five leagues, but the heavy roads made the going a slow and difficult task. By stretching a tent-cloth over a rude frame, upheld by four poles, the foot-boys contrived for Isabel and Rocelia a passing shelter from the rain, which was by now pelting hard and steadily against the helmets of Sir Richard and de Claverlok.

They had ridden after this cumbrous fashion near half the distance when Sir Richard thought he heard the dull rumbling of a carriage to their rear. Adventuring the hazard of a hidden bog, the party turned aside and rode upon the moor till they had set an impenetrable curtain of mist between themselves and the highway. Leaving his horse in Harold's keeping the young knight crept back, stationing himself behind a thick clump of gorse growing by the roadside.

Accompanied by a score or more of outriders streaming water, shedding loud curses, and flogging their tired mounts for everything that was in them, came a great lumbering coach and six, looming gigantic as a castle in the weird fog. As it passed where Sir Richard was lying, he noted that its wheels were three quarters sunken in the deep mud, which rolled off them as they turned after the manner of a miniature cataract.

"How far, sayst thou, it will be from Glasgow?" He heard a voice, which he knew well for that of Douglas, roaring from within its depths.

"Said I not that they would be after thee, Sir Richard ... eh?" de Claverlok observed when the young knight went back and told them what he had seen.

They were perforce obliged to give the coach a good start, for, by now, the mist was rapidly thinning; and they durst not put themselves within sight of Douglas' men. Before reaching the gates of Glasgow they divided their little party in twain. Three entering from the north, three from the south, with an arrangement to foregather at King's Dock, upon the River Clyde. It was decided upon that Sir Richard, having nothing to do within the town, should make his way at once to the harbor and seek berths on shipboard for France. Whilst de Claverlok and Isabel, having to attend to the business of Isabel's inheritance, would join them later at the river's side.

They were in no trouble to enter the town, and made shift to take the narrower and less frequented streets leading to the water-front. As they were riding through, Rocelia pointed to a fellow, garbed in the Douglas livery, who was nailing a proclamation, writ in great, glaring letters, against a plank fence.

It was an offer of a reward of two hundred and fifty pounds for Sir Richard's arrest and detention; the which was followed by a neat and accurate description of his person and apparel. Before they got to the next corner there were a dozen idlers, with mouths agape, standing before it and taking it in.

Knowing well that Sir Richard's chances of getting safely away were diminishing in proportion with the number of placards that were being then posted over the town, they made all haste to reach the river and get safely aboard ship.

Without mishap our travelers came anon to King's Dock. Sir Richard was most gratified to discover that there was a great ship, above which rose three towering masts, riding at anchor in the midst of the harbor. He gazed longingly across at her, wishing that they were all safe bestowed upon her lofty and much ornamented poop.

Dismounting, and bidding Harold to do the same the while the young knight lifted Rocelia to the rough paving stones, he sent them both posting into a tavern. "The sooner we draw free of the streets the better," he thought. Beckoning a sailor then, who was watching them from the quay, Sir Richard handed him a shilling and told him to tie him the three horses in a dark and narrow alleyway near hand. "I' faith, 'twill be the last I shall ever see of them," he said to himself; and not without a feeling of regret that he would never again bestride the strong back of his faithful stallion.

"Where can I find me the captain of yonder ship?" Sir Richard asked of the sailor, as he came slouching out of the dark alleyway.

"Thou'll find him in there--where the sack flows thickest," the sailor answered, pointing to the tavern wherein Rocelia and Harold had taken shelter. "The ship's ready and all laden for the sea now, sir knight, with the tide flowing strong. I swear to you the master's boat's a-riding at the dock-side now ... but he be right bravely liquored up, quoth 'a, and no one dare go a-nigh 'im to tell it. 'Tis a damned bad thing ... the sack ... but, begging your pardon, sir knight, an this shilling be good siller, I bethink me I'll buy me a swig or two."

"Of what name may your ship be?" queried Sir Richard.

"She'll be the 'Trinity,' sir knight," said he, "and the bonniest hulk that ever cut water down the Firth."

"See you here, my man," said the young knight, as he was starting for a tap-room upon the opposite side of the street. "Are you wanting to line your pocket with a rose noble or two?"

"With nothing but this bit shilling ... and the town fair flooded with rum? God wot, and I am not!" said he.

"Then do you keep stand here," said Sir Richard; and, hurrying to the tavern door, he bade Harold and Rocelia to join him outside.

"Now, hark ye well," resumed Sir Richard, to the waiting sailor. "Lead this lady and my squire to the dock there, bestow them safely within the captain's boat, and wait you there till I come ... here," he added, handing him the promised coin. "There'll be another, an you do this thing to my taste."

"I'm a-thinking as what you don't know my master, sir knight," observed the sailor, gazing hard at the tavern door.

"No. But I will in another moment," said the young knight, going for the door.

"Captain of the 'Trinity,'" he shouted when he had swung it wide.

"The very devil and all! and what's this, prithee?" the drunken captain shouted, rolling heavily down upon Sir Richard and quite filling the open space.

In a very few words the young knight told him just what he wanted, making offer of all his remaining nobles, saving one, if he would consent to bear them all safely into France.

"Six, sayst thou? Any women?" the seaman asked.

"Two," Sir Richard replied.

"Then ... damn thy nobles!" he bellowed, slamming the door in the young knight's very face.

"But I tell you that you must do this thing," Sir Richard persisted, again setting open the door.

"What! hell, man!" he shouted, turning purple in the face.

"I say you must."

"I'll pitch thee headfirst out, an thou sayst that again!" the captain bawled.

"I repeat, sir captain, that we must take thy ship," said Sir Richard. "Moreover, I tell thee to thy teeth thou canst not pitch me out."

"I'll wager a noble," he returned, peeling him off his cloak and great-jacket.

"An I put thee out," said Sir Richard, "wilt thou take six on ship and fifty nobles in hand?"

"An thou goest out ... what then?" said he.

"Ten golden discs for thy trouble," the young knight made laughing rejoinder.

"Done," said the captain.

Sir Richard did not much like the curious crowd gathering closely around them, but he knew well that he must accept the hazard. It was the only way to win to the ship.

Well, they went at it then, and how the chairs and tables standing near did tumble, roll and clatter about their flying heels! The captain was of a similar size and build with Bull Bengoff, and it was somewhat like tugging at an enormous animated hogshead to get him moving withal. But Sir Richard got him started rolling toward the door presently, and then, with one mighty heave, he sent him tumbling over and over down the stone steps.

"What saidst thou was thy name, sir knight?" the captain asked, sitting prone upon the paving stones and rubbing the top of his pate. There went a loud laugh around at his earnest manner of asking the question.

Walking down the steps, Sir Richard stooped, whispering it close to his ear.

"God's mercy upon me!" he shouted, getting as quickly as might be to his feet and winding his great arms about the young knight's neck. Sir Richard at once set again to tugging, bethinking him that they were again to have at it.

"No, no!" shouted the captain, laughing, "I've had my belly full of that---- God! dost thou not know, man? That ship in the offing yonder doth belong to him whose wealth and titles were left all to thee ... are even now thine. Right glad will old Duke Francis be to have me fetch thee back. Thou art of age now, and can claim thy inheritance."

"My benefactor ... who is he?" asked the young knight in an amazed whisper.

"Who _is_ he? Why, he's dead, Sir Richard, these nineteen years ... 'twas the man after whom thou wert named--Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick ... often styled 'king-maker.' But come! come inside," he cried, taking the young knight's arm; "we'll have a bowl or two of sack and a right juicy pasty together, Sir Richard. Let the damned ship wait!"

"But, listen," Sir Richard whispered, "I'm in the direst peril. 'Twould be well an thou couldst get me on board thy ship at once."

Just at that moment they saw de Claverlok, Isabel, and Thomas ride upon the King's Dock out of a side street. Looking away from the river, Sir Richard saw a band of horses, with Douglas at their head, coming above the hill at a breakneck speed.

"Come!" the young knight shouted, clutching the good captain's arm; "do not tarry for thy cap--there's not one tick of the clock to spare."

Which indeed there was not, for they had but just tumbled into the boat and drew clear of the quay when Douglas and his horsemen rode furiously upon it.

"Come hither, Sir Richard ... sire!" Lord Douglas called. "Prithee, do return. I have here the messages to show thee. The messages thou didst bring me from Henry. All signed, thou dost remember, by thy good self and my councilmen. Come back! but a moment's speech would I have of thee ... sire."

"I wish thee well of thy enterprises, Lord Douglas," the young knight shouted back. "Make kings an thou wilt, I'll have none of it. Thou canst give me nothing.... I have beside me here, my lord, the best that Scotland has to give."

Then, he remembered afterward, Rocelia took his hand, standing beside him in the captain's boat, and together they waved the great Douglas a last farewell.

When they had climbed to the topmost deck of the great ship they saw another cavalcade of armed men riding down to the river front from out another street. Sir Richard noted above their plumed helmets a bedraggled banner, bearing a device sable upon a field gules.

"They are your father's men, Rocelia," Sir Richard said, gathering her close to his side.

"Yes, Dick," said she. "God keep him from all harm and bring him safe to us some future day."

Soon, then, with great brown sails bellying in the wind, they dropped down the Firth of Clyde, with the twinkling lights of Glasgow fading dim in the distance.

* * * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected. Occasional unmatched quotation marks were corrected when there was no ambiguity.

Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.

Page 142: Spurious closing quotation mark removed after: he wanted to know?

Page 173: Missing opening quotation mark added at start of: "But where's the....

Page 189: Spurious closing quotation mark removed after: What quarrel, ... eh?

Page 333: "with her eyes to follow" was misprinted as "eves".

Page 340: Double-quote mark changed to apostrophe at start of: 'tis passing----