Agincourt Part 31

"For frends.h.i.+p and for giftes goode, For mete and drink so grete plentie, That lord that raught was on the roode, He kepe the comeli companie.

"On sea or lande where that ye be, He governe you withouten greve; So good disport ye han made me, Again my will, I take my leve."

And, after again kissing his hand, she let him depart, keeping down by a great effort the tears that struggled to rise up into her eyes. But she would not for the world have suffered one weak emotion to appear before her kinsman, whose character she knew right well, and over whom she proposed at once to a.s.sume an influence, which could only be gained by the display of a firm and superior mind.

"And who may that young lord be, pretty Ella?" asked Nicholas Brune: "he seems to take great heed of you, dear kinswoman, and is evidently too high a bird to mate with one of our feather."

"Mate with me!" answered Ella, in a scornful tone. "Oh, no! cousin mine. He will mate, ere long, with one of the sweetest ladies within the sh.o.r.es of merry England, who has been most kind to me too. He is a friend of the King; and when poor old Murdock Brune, my grandsire, and your uncle, was killed, by a fiend of a courtier trampling him under his horse's feet, that gentleman, who saw the deed, threw the monster back from his horse, and afterwards represented my case to the King, who punished the man-slayer, and sent me fifty half-n.o.bles."

Nicholas Brune was affected in two very opposite ways by Ella's words.

"My uncle killed by a courtier!" he exclaimed at first, with his eyes flas.h.i.+ng fire. "What was his name, maiden--what was his name?"

"Sir Simeon of Roydon," answered Ella Brune; and seeking a sc.r.a.p of parchment and a reed pen, the goldsmith wrote down the name, as if to prevent it from escaping his memory. But the moment after his mind reverted to another part of Ella's speech. "Fifty half n.o.bles!" he exclaimed, taking a piece of gold out of a drawer, and looking at it.

"That was a princely gift, indeed, Ella; and you owe the young gentleman much grat.i.tude for getting it for you."

"I owe him and his fair lady-love more than I can ever repay, for many an act beside," answered Ella Brune; "but I am resolved, my good kinsman, that I will discharge part of the debt of grat.i.tude, if not the whole. I have a plan in my head, cousin--I have a plan, which I know not whether I will tell you or not."

"Take counsel!--always take counsel!" answered the goldsmith.

"I want none, fair kinsman," replied Ella; "I need neither counsel nor help. My own wit shall be my counsellor; and as I am rich now, I can always get aid when I want it."

"Rich!" said Nicholas;--"what, with fifty half-n.o.bles, pretty maid? It is a heavy sum, truly, but soon spent."

"Were that all," rejoined Ella, "I should not count myself very rich; but I have more than that, cousin--enough to dower me to as gay a citizen as any in Ghent. But here seem a number of gallants gathering round the gate of the Graevensteen. I will back into the far part of the shop, and we will talk more hereafter."

While this conversation had been going on between Nicholas and Ella Brune, Richard of Woodville, followed by the goldsmith's man, had hurried back to the inn, and directed Ned Dyram to deliver over the coffer belonging to the minstrel girl, which had been brought, not without some inconvenience, on the back of one of the mules that carried his own baggage. The young gentleman did not remark that, in executing this order, Ned Dyram questioned the lad cunningly; and busy, to say sooth, in paying his score to the host, and making his final preparations for departure, he forgot for the time his fair companion of the way, quite satisfied that she was safe and comfortable under the roof of her kinsman.

Some time before the hour appointed, Woodville was in the court of the old castle, with his men armed and mounted, in very different guise from their peaceful habiliments of the morning. He contented himself with sending in a page to inform the Count that he was ready, and remained standing by his horse's side; while several of those who had been chosen by the young Burgundian Prince as his companions, entered through the old gate, and paused to admire, with open eyes, the splendid array of the English band, each man armed in plate of the newest and most approved form, according to his degree, and each bearing, slung over his shoulder, the green quiver, filled with the fatal English arrows, which turned so often the tide of battle in the olden time.

After having waited for about ten minutes, the page whom Woodville had sent came back, and conducted him into the castle, where, in a suite of rooms occupying the bas.e.m.e.nt story of one of the towers, he found the young Count, armed and ready to mount. "Here is your lodging after our return," said the Prince, rapidly. "I wished to show it to you ere we set out: these four chambers, and one above. Your horses must be quartered out. And now, _my friend_, let us to the saddle: the rest have come, I think." And, speeding through the pa.s.sages to the court-yard, he welcomed gracefully the gentlemen a.s.sembled, sprang upon his horse's back, and, followed by his train, rode out over the private bridge belonging to the castle, bending his steps upon the road to the French frontier.

The Count himself, and the small body that accompanied him, amounting in all to about a hundred men, were all armed after the heavy and c.u.mbersome fas.h.i.+on of those days; and each of the several parties of which the troop was composed, had with them one or two led horses or mules, loaded with spare arms and clothing. Considering weight and inc.u.mbrances, they moved forward at a very rapid rate--certainly not less than seven miles an hour; and pausing nowhere but to give water to the horses, they had advanced nearly eight leagues on their way ere nightfall. A few minutes after, through the faint twilight which remained in the sky, Richard of Woodville perceived some spires and towers rising at a short distance over the flat country before them; and, on his asking one of the gentlemen, with whom he had held a good deal of conversation during their journey, what town it was that they were approaching, the reply was, "Courtray."

Here the Count of Charolois stopped for about an hour; but, while the horses and most of his attendants contrived to obtain some very tolerable food, the young Prince neither ate nor drank; but, with a mind evidently anxious and disturbed, walked up and down the hall, occasionally talking to Richard of Woodville, the only one who exercised the same abstinence, but never mentioning either the end or object of their journey.

A little after eight o'clock the whole party were in the saddle once more, and, judging from the direction which they took as they issued forth from the gates of Courtray, the gentleman who had been the young Englishman's princ.i.p.al companion on the road informed him that they must be going to Lille. In about two hours and a half more, that city was seen by the light of the moon; and, after causing the gates to be opened, the Count took his way through the streets, but did not direct his course to the chateau usually inhabited by the Flemish Counts.

Alighting at the princ.i.p.al hostelry of the place, he turned to the gentlemen who followed, saying, "Here we must wait for the first news that to-morrow may bring. Make yourselves at ease, n.o.ble lords. I am tired, and will to bed."

Without farther explanation, he retired at once with his personal attendants; and his followers proceeded to amuse themselves as best they might. Richard of Woodville remained with his comrades of the road for about an hour, and, during that time, much of the rough asperity of fresh acquaintance was brushed away. He then followed the example of the young Count, in order to rise refreshed the next morning.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THOSE WHO WERE LEFT BEHIND.

The morning after the departure of Richard of Woodville dawned clear and bright upon the city of Ghent; and the hour of seven found a small party a.s.sembled in a neat wooden house, not many yards within the Brabant gate, at the cheerful meal of breakfast. With dagger in hand and hearty good will, Nicholas Brune was hewing away at a huge capon, which, with a pickled boar's head, formed the staple of the meal, helping his good buxom dame and Ella Brune to what he considered choice pieces, and praising the fare with more exuberance than modesty, considering that he was the lord of the feast.

Madame Brune, as we should call her in the present day, but known in Ghent by a more homely appellation, which may be translated "Wife Brune," was a native of the good city; and, by his marriage with her, Nicholas had not only obtained a considerable sum of money, but also various advantages, which placed him nearly, if not altogether, on a footing with the born citizens;--so that, for his fair better half, he had great respect and devotion, as in duty bound. For Ella his reverence had been greatly increased, by finding that she was endowed with a quality very engaging in his opinion--namely, wealth; for the sum which she possessed, though but a trifle in our eyes, was in those days no inconsiderable fortune, as I have already taken the liberty of hinting.

I must not, however, do the worthy goldsmith injustice, and suffer the reader to believe that, had Ella appeared poor and friendless, as he had last seen her, Nicholas Brune would have shown her aught but kindness; for he was a good-hearted and right-minded man; but it is not attributing too much to the influence of the precious metals in which he worked, to admit that, certainly, he always took them into account in computing the degree of respect which he was bound to pay to others. He would not have done any dishonest or evil act to obtain a whole Peruvian mine, if such a thing had been within the sphere of his imagination; but still, the possession of such a mine would have greatly enhanced, in the eyes of Nicholas Brune, the qualities of any one who might chance to be its proprietor. The only thing, indeed, which puzzled him in the present instance was, how his old uncle could a.s.sume the garb of a wandering, and not generally respected race, when he had by him a sum which set him above all chance of want. At first he fancied that the old man's love of music--which was to him, who did not know one note from another, a separate marvel--might have been the motive: the ruling pa.s.sion strong in death. But then he thought that good old Murdock might have made sweet melody just as well in his own house, as in wandering from court to court, and fair to fair; but immediately after, remembering the old man's peculiar religious notions, with which he was well acquainted, he concluded that zeal, in which he could fully sympathize, must have been the cause of conduct that seemed so strange. This was an inducement he could understand; for, though on no other points was he of an enthusiastic and vehement character, yet he was so in matters of faith; and if he could have made up his mind to any sort of death, it would have been that of a martyr; but, to say truth, he could not bring himself to prefer any way of leaving the world, and thought one as disagreeable as another.

Thus he arrived at the conclusion, that his uncle was quite right in using any means to conceal both his wealth and his religion.

However, as I have said, he viewed Ella with a very placable countenance,--invited her to eat and drink; and, as his mind reverted to what she had said, in regard to paying for her food and lodging, he treated it with a mixture of jest and argument, which showed her that he would receive something, though not too much.

"Why, my fair cousin," he said, when she recurred to the subject, "in this good town of Ghent, all is at so base a price that men live for nothing, and are expected to sell their goods for nothing, I can tell you. Now, look at that capon; a fatter one never carried its long legs about a stack of corn, and yet it cost but six liards. You would pay a sterling, or may be two, for such a one in London; and here you might get a priest as fat to sing a ma.s.s for the same money. G.o.d help the mummers!"

Ella, however, replied, that she would settle her share with his dame for so long as she stayed, and was proceeding to let her good-humoured cousin into some of her views and intentions, foreseeing that she might need his countenance and a.s.sistance, when the outer door opened, and, after a knock at that of the room in which they sat, Ned Dyram entered, to inquire after his fair companion of the way. Ella knew not whether to be pleased or sorry to see him; but surprised she certainly was; for she had thought he was far away from Ghent with his lord. The cause of these contrary emotions was simply, that she felt little pleasure in the man's society, and less in the love that he professed towards her, and yet, having made up her mind to take advantage of the pa.s.sion he experienced or affected, to work out her own purposes, she saw that his remaining in Ghent might greatly facilitate her views.

But the game she had to play was a delicate one, for she had resolved, for no object whatsoever, to give encouragement to his suit; but rather, to leave him to divine her wishes, and promote them if he would, than ask aught at his hands.

Though carried on by that eager and enthusiastic spirit which lingers longer in the breast of woman than in that of man: from which, indeed, everything in life tends to expel it--his own wearing pa.s.sions, his habits of indulgence, the hard lessons of experience, and the checks of repeated disappointment--yet she felt somewhat alarmed at the new course before her. Perhaps she was not quite sure, though the end ever in view was high and n.o.ble, self-devoted, and generous, that the means were right. To have followed Richard of Woodville through the world--to have watched over him as a guardian spirit--to have sacrificed for his sake, and for his happiness, all, anything, peace, security, comfort, and even her own fame--I do not say her own honour--she would not have scrupled; but she might ask herself at that moment, whether it was right and just to sport with the love of another--to use it for her purpose--even to suffer it, when she knew that it could never be returned. And yet woman's eye is very keen; and that selfishness, which frequently bears such a large share in man's love, was so apparent to her view in all Dyram's actions, that she could not but feel less compunction for suffering him to pamper himself with hopes, than if he had been of a n.o.bler and a higher nature.

Whatever were the ideas that crossed her mind, and kept her silent for a moment, they rapidly pa.s.sed away; and when her cousin, after gazing at the intruder for an instant, asked who he was and what he wanted, she answered for him, in a gay tone, affecting the coquettish airs then very common in a higher cla.s.s, "Oh! he is a servant of mine, Nicholas--vowed to the tip of my finger. I do not intend ever to have him; but if the poor creature is resolved to sigh at my feet, I must e'en let him. Pray you, give him welcome. What news, servant? How is it that you have not followed your lord?"

"Because," replied Ned Dyram, "I loved best to stay with my lady."

"Nay," answered Ella Brune, "call me not _your_ lady. You are my servant, but I am yours not at all, either as lady or servant. You have not yet merited such grace."

In this light and jesting tone she continued to treat him; and though perhaps such conduct might have repelled a more sensitive and delicate lover, with Ned Dyram it but added fuel to the fire. Each day he came to visit--each day returned with stronger pa.s.sion in his heart. Jest, indeed, which was far from natural to her character or to her feelings at the time, Ella could not always keep up: though great and stern resolution is often the source of a certain bitter mirth at minor things. But in every graver moment she spoke to Dyram of Richard of Woodville and of Mary Markham--for as yet she knew her by no other name. She did so studiously, and yet so calmly and easily, that not the slightest suspicion of the real feelings in her heart ever crossed the mind of her hearer. Of Mary, she told him far more than he had hitherto gathered from his companions in Woodville's train, and dwelt long upon her beauty, her gentleness, her kindness. Following closely her object, she even found means to hint, one day, a regret that she had not been permitted to follow the young Englishman on his expedition.

"What would I have given," she said, "to have had your chance of going with him; and yet you chose to remain behind!"

"Indeed, fair Ella!" he exclaimed; "what made you so anxious to go?"

"Nay," answered the girl, with a mysterious look, "do you expect me to tell you my secrets, bold man? I would give a chain of gold, however, to be able to follow your master about the world for just twelve months, if it could be done without risking my own fair fame. Oh! for one of those fairy girdles that made the wearer invisible!"

"Methinks you love him, Mistress Ella," replied Ned Dyram, more from pique than suspicion.

But Ella answered, boldly and at once, though he had touched the wound somewhat roughly.

"Yes, I do love him well!" she answered; "and I have cause, servant of mine. But it is not for that. I have a vow; I have a purpose; and though they must be executed, I know not well how to do so. I ought not to have left him, even now."

"I dare say he would have taken you, if you had asked him!" replied the man.

"And what would men have said?" demanded Ella. "What would you have thought yourself--what might your young lord have thought--though he is not so foolish as yourself? Most likely you would all have done me wrong in your fancies. No, no!--if I go, it must be secretly. But there, get you gone; I will tell you no more."

"Nay, tell on, sweet Ella!" exclaimed Ned Dyram; "and perhaps I may aid you."

"Get you gone, I say!" replied Ella Brune. "I will tell you no more, at least for the present. You help me!--Why, were I to trust to you for help in such a matter as this, should I not put myself entirely in your power?"

"But I would never misuse it, Ella," answered Ned Dyram.

"No, no!" she exclaimed; "I will never put myself in any man's power, unless I suffer him to put a ring upon my finger; and then, of course, I am as much his slave as if he had a ring round my neck. There, leave me! leave me! You may come again to-morrow, and see if I am in a better mood. I feel cross to-day."

Ned Dyram retired; but he was destined to return before the day was over, and to bring her tidings, which, however unpleasant in themselves, rendered his coming welcome. As he took his way back towards the inn, just at the corner of the Vendredi market-place, he met a party of travellers, and heard the English tongue; but he took little heed, for his thoughts were full of Ella Brune; and he had pa.s.sed half across the square, when one of the hors.e.m.e.n rode after him, and said his lord desired to speak with him. Ned Dyram looked up, and at once remembered the man's face. For reasons of his own, however, he suffered not the slightest trace of recognition to appear on his own countenance. As the horseman spoke in English, he replied in the same tongue, asking who was his master, and what he wanted?