Agincourt Part 57

"This is my witness," said Ella Brune; and as she spoke, the other withdrew her veil.

Simeon of Roydon started back with a face pale as death, exclaiming, "Catherine!--She is living! she is living!"

"Ay, but not by your will," answered Catherine Beauchamp; "for you have long thought me dead--dead by the act of your own hand. My Lord the King," she continued, "all that this excellent girl has said is true. On a night you well remember, eager to learn from this man who you really were, I sought him by the banks of the stream, where he had promised to wait and tell me that and other matters, as he said, nearly affecting me. It was wrong of me to do so; but I had done much that was wrong ere then, and I had no scruples. He told me who you were; and then, seeing that no great love existed between myself and poor Harry Dacre, he sought to win my wealth, by inducing me to violate the contract with my promised husband and wed him: what put such a vain notion in his mind, I know not; but I laughed and taunted him with bitter scorn; and he then told me that I should be his or die. At first I feared not: but when I found him lift his hand and grasp me by the throat, I screamed aloud for help, and struggled hard.

He mastered me, however, in an instant, and plunged me in the stream.

As I fell, I vowed that, if Heaven would send me help, I would make a pilgrimage to St. James of Galicia. The waters, however, soon closed above my head, and in the one dreadful moment which I had for thought--as if the past had been cleared up and illumined by a flash of lightning--all the faults and follies of my former life stood out before me distinct and bright, stripped of the vain imaginations with which I had covered them. I rose again for a moment to the air; and then I vowed that, if G.o.d spared me, I would pledge myself to the altar, and renouncing all that ensnared me, live out the rest of time in penitence and prayer. I soon lost all recollection, however, and when first I woke as from sleep, in great feebleness and agony, I found myself in a litter, borne on towards the abbey. Consciousness was speedily gone again: and when next I roused myself from that dull slumber, my good uncle Richard, the abbot, and an old monk of his convent, were the only persons near. As soon as I could speak, I told them of my vows, and engaged them to keep my recovery a profound secret, till I had taken the veil. The deeds that have been done, however, compel me to come forward now, and tell the truth. I have told it simply and without disguise; but yet I would fain plead for this man's life. To him, as well as to others, I have had great faults, and towards none more than poor Sir Harry Dacre. In a month, however, my vows will be taken, and he will be free; but I would fain not cloud the peace with which I renounce the world, by bringing death on my bad cousin's head; and you, Sire, after such a mighty victory, can well afford to pardon."

But Henry waved his hand: "Not a word for him!" he said; "loaded with so many crimes, I give him up to trial; and by the sentence of his judges will I abide. Remove the prisoners, and keep them under safe ward; one word more, fair lady," he continued, as the men-at-arms led Simeon of Roydon and Ned Dyram from the presence, "how has it so fortunately chanced that you are here to-day?"

"I have travelled far, my Liege," replied Catherine Beauchamp, in a gayer tone; "have made my pilgrimage, and pa.s.sed part of my noviciate in a cell of the order I have chosen near Dijon. Coming back I met with some Canonesses, who were travelling under the escort of some troops of Burgundy, and with them journeyed to Peronne, whence, under the escort of Sir Richard of Woodville, and accompanied by this good maiden, I came hither. I will not waste your time, my Liege, by telling all the adventures that befel me by the way; but I have to ask pardon of my n.o.ble cousin Richard, here, for teasing him somewhat in Westminster and Nieuport, and doing him a still worse turn in Ghent by a letter to Sir John Grey. But, good faith, to say the truth, I thought he was a lighter lover than he has proved himself, and now that I know all, I crave his forgiveness heartily."

"You have it, sweet Kate," answered Richard of Woodville; "but you have several things to hear yet," he continued, in his blunt way, "and some perhaps that may not be very palatable to you."

"Nay, I have heard all," answered Catherine Beauchamp; "but I stand no more in the way of that love, which I had long seen turning to another, when I spurned it from me myself. My vows at the altar will remove all obstacles; and I trust that Dacre will see me as a sister and a friend, though it be but to bid me adieu for ever."

"And I, Woodville," said the King, turning to the young knight, "I, too, would ask you pardon, if I had ever truly suspected you. Such, however, is not the case; and there are many here who can testify, that though I was willing that you should be made to prove your innocence, I never doubted that you could do so. For services rendered, however, and high deeds done, as well as in compensation for much that you have suffered, I give you one half of the forfeited estates of the traitor Sir Thomas Grey, to hold for ever of us and of our heirs, on presentation of a mace, such as that which beat down the adversary of my brother Humphrey upon the day of Agincourt. Sir John Grey, my good old friend, I think you, too, have a gift to give. Come, let me see it given;" and leading forward Richard of Woodville, he brought him to the side of Mary Grey. The old knight placed her hand in his, and the King said "Benedicite."

Ella Brune turned away her head. Her cheek glowed; but there were no tears in her eyes; and, ere many months were gone, she was a cloistered nun in the same convent with Catherine Beauchamp.

THE END.