"THE King has sat down to supper, my good lord," said one of the young Earl\'s attendants, meeting him at the door of his apartments, "and wondered that you were not there. A seat is kept for you, however."
"Is it near the Prince?" demanded Alured.
"Nay, my lord, the Prince is gone," replied the man; "did you not know it?"
"Gone!" exclaimed the young nobleman. "Gone, whither?"
"To Leicester, my lord," said the servant. "While you and Sir Guy de Margan were conversing here, news came from Leicester of a revolt amongst the peasants there; and the Prince set out at once, with some fifty men--\'tis not half an hour since."
"Why, he is to be the judge of the field the day after to-morrow!" cried the Earl, in surprise and evident disappointment.
"I heard film tell the King myself, my lord," replied the man, "that he would be back ere sunset to-morrow."
"This is unfortunate," murmured Alured--"this is most unfortunate; but it can\'t be helped!" and after making some slight change in his apparel, and giving some orders in a low but earnest voice, he hastened to the hall. Henry, as soon as he appeared, greeted him with light merriment, saying, "You are late for the banquet, noble Earl; but we forgive you, as we doubt not some fair lady held you in chains of dalliance not to be broken."
"Nay, sire," replied the Earl, gravely, "my heart is too full of other things to think of levities. I was with a sick friend, and the time, though it passed heavily, was not noted."
"A sick friend is as good an excuse as a fair lady," said the King, "and one that may be pleaded at all times."
"Nay, sire," replied Mortimer, who was sitting near, "neither fair lady nor sick friend can be a moment\'s excuse for delay in day of battle, or even, I hold, of tournament."
"A high question of chivalry," replied the King. "Let some of our old knights decide it. What say you, Sir John Hardy?"
"That the matter has been decided often, my liege," said the old soldier, who was placed some way down the table, and who spoke with grave deliberation on the subject which he considered all-important. "No excuse on earth can be received for the man who has touched a challenger\'s shield, or taken an accuser\'s glove, or received his leader\'s command to prepare for battle, if he be more than a quarter of an hour behind the time appointed. That space is given in case of accident, or men\'s judgment differing as to time. Thus the trumpets may sound thrice, with five minutes between each blast; but if he comes not at the third call, he is held coward and recreant by all civilized men, and can plead nothing, unless it be the commands of his sovereign, as his excuse."
"The honour of a knight," said another old soldier, in an authoritative and somewhat pedantic tone, "should be as bright as his shield, as clear and cutting as his sword, and as pointed and steady as his lance. What he has once asserted, that he should maintain to the death; for whatever cause there may be for retracting, an imputation on his courage will still lie, if he make a moment\'s delay in meeting an enemy in the field."
Hugh de Monthermer remained calm and pale, but the cheek of Alured de Ashby flushed as if every word he heard was fire. As soon as possible after the banquet, he quitted the hall and sought his apartments, with a hurried and irregular step.
He found the armourers still busy in their task, as he passed through the outer chamber; and, pausing at the bench where they were working, he gazed down upon the weapons under their hands with a thoughtful but abstracted look. Then, with a sudden start, clenching his hand tight, he said, "See that all be firm and strong, Mapleton, yet not too heavy."
"Fear not, my lord--fear not," replied the armourer, "there never was better steel in all the world; and these poylins are a rare invention for the defence of the elbows and knees. I have prepared a garland, too, my lord, for your neck. I know you love it not, but \'tis much safer, if you will but wear it, though it does spoil the look of the hauberk, it must be confessed. But very often I have known the blow of a lance right in the throat kill or disable a knight, though the spear went not through the rings--\'tis a trick with the Lord Hugh, too, I hear, to aim at the throat. They say he killed two men so at Evesham, and the Soldan of Egypt\'s brother, when he was in Paynimrie."
Alured de Ashby had long ceased to listen; but with his brow bent and his eyes fixed upon the arms, he stood thinking of other things, till the armourer ceased and looked up in his face; and then, turning away, he quitted the room without any reply. When in his own chamber, he closed the door, and for nearly two hours his foot might be heard, walking to and fro, sometimes, indeed, pausing for a minute or two, but still resuming its heavy tread.
Who can depict all the stormy passions that agitated him at that moment--the struggle that was taking place in his bosom, so different from that which had torn the heart of Hugh de Monthermer, though as violent in its degree, and proceeding from the same events. To fight in an unrighteous quarrel!--to go, solemnly appealing to Heaven for the justice of his cause, and to feel that that cause was unjust!--deliberately to persist in charging an innocent man with a horrible crime, of which he knew him to be innocent!--It was a fearful contemplation for one in whom conscience had not been smothered under many evil deeds, notwithstanding the faults and follies which sometimes blinded his eyes to right and wrong. But yet, to retract the accusation he had made--to acknowledge that he had erred--to own that he had been rash and weak--to see Hugh de Monthermer triumph--all this was repugnant to the most powerful vices of his character--to jealous pride and irritable vanity.
Nevertheless, this he might have overcome; for, as we have shown, there was a high sense of honour in his nature, and the voice of conscience was strong enough, when the question was one of such mighty moment, to overpower the busy tongue of passion, and lead him to what was right; but, alas! there was another consideration. He feared the loss of renown! The very suspicion of any dread of his adversary was enough to put every good resolution to flight; and, unhappily, the laws of chivalry opposed a barrier to his pursuing the only course of rectitude, which would have been difficult enough to surmount even had his natural disposition been different from what it was.
Then came back the remembrance of the conversation which had taken place at the banquet. It seemed to him as if the two old knights, who had declared the rules of arms, had been sitting in judgment on the cause pleaded by the disputants in his own bosom. They had pronounced against the voice of conscience--they had given sentence in favour of that fantastic honour which was based more on personal courage than on truth.
Good Heaven! he thought, that the world should suspect he was afraid to meet in arms the man he had accused! That he should fear Hugh de Monthermer--that he should take advantage of any new risen doubt to withdraw a charge which he had solemnly made, and shrink from a combat which he had himself provoked! How would men jeer at his name--how silent would the heralds stand, when he entered the court or the tilt-yard? He pictured to himself a thousand imaginary insults:--he saw knights refusing to break a lance with one who had shrunk from the wager of battle he had demanded; he saw ladies turning away their heads in scorn from the craven knight who had feared to meet an equal in the field. He could not--he would not do it!--and yet conscience still cried aloud; ay, and the voice of Kate Greenly rang in his ears, telling him that conscience was powerful to overthrow as well as to admonish; prophesying to him that he would fall before the lance of the man he knowingly injured, and that shame and defeat, as well as injustice and falsehood, would be his companions on that fatal field.
"Foul befal the girl!" he cried, "for putting such thoughts into my head; they hang upon me like a spell--they will cling to me in the hour of battle. Many a man has fought in an unjust cause--ay, and many a one has fallen. In this ordeal, is the judgment of God shown, or is it not? Is it possible to conceive that we can appeal to Him, and call upon Him to defend the right, and solemnly swear that our cause is just, all the time having a lie upon our lips, and that He will not punish? He were worse than the God of the Moslemah, if he did not. What then shall I gain? For the first time in life, I shall soil my soul with an untruth--I shall take a false oath--I shall be defeated, disgraced, with the judgment of God pronouncing that I am perjured, and die, leaving a stained and blackened name behind.--And yet, to withdraw the charge is impossible!" he continued. "Better disgraced, and hide me from contumely in the grave, than live and meet the scornful looks of every knight in Europe! My only chance is in the Prince--perhaps he may stop it. Would he were here!--I would give him the paper now! Yet I must show no desire to recant the accusation. I remember how his proud lip curled when that braggart, De Poix, slunk from the mêlée at the Northampton tournament, on pretence that his horse was lame. Curses on my own precipitate haste!--but still deeper curses on that traitor, Richard, who urged me on!--Would I could know the truth.--Oh! if I thought that it was so, I would tear his heart from his body, and trample it quivering in the dust.--The foul villain!--And my father so good to him!"
Such were some of the broken and disjointed thoughts which crossed the mind of Alured de Ashby, and from them the reader may form some idea of the agitated state of his feelings during that night. He slept scarcely at all till morning; but he then fell into a deep slumber, which lasted several hours, and from which he rose refreshed and calmer, but, nevertheless, stern and sad. He was restless, too, and the hesitating and undecided state of his mind on the most pressing subject before him, rendered him wavering in all his actions.
In the morning, several of his servants, who had been out all night, according to orders he had given them, came in to make their report, and informed him, that though they had watched steadily at the spot which he had pointed out, no one had come out of the house but a priest and a little boy bearing a torch. He then sent for some of the old retainers of the family, who had been at Lindwell when his father was slain, and on their arrival questioned them minutely on many points; and then he told his people that he was going to the apartments of his sister; but, when he came to the foot of the stairs, he paused, turned back again, and strode up and down the court for half an hour.
His next proceeding was to order his horses instantly, and he set out the road to Leicester. When he was about halfway there, however, he turned his charger\'s head, and reached the gates of Nottingham just as night was falling. The city warder told him, in answer to his questions, that the Prince had not returned, but that a messenger from him had arrived an hour before, and it was rumoured that Edward would not be back until the following morning.
The Earl shook the bridle of his horse fiercely, and galloped up to the castle. Before he reached it, however, the fit of angry impatience had passed away; and on dismounting, he proceeded direct to the apartments of the Prince, and sent in a page to say he wished to see the Lady Lucy. He was instantly admitted to her chamber, where the sight of her fair face, bearing evident marks of tears, and full of deep and inconsolable sorrow, shook his purposes again, and added to all the bitterness of his feelings.
Alured kissed her tenderly, but he perceived that though she uttered not a word of reproach, she shrunk from him, and that was reproach enough. At his desire she sent away her maids, and then, sitting down beside her, he took her hand in his, saying, "Lucy, I have come to see you--perhaps for the last time!"
She cast down her eyes, and made no reply, and he went on--"It is not fit, Lucy, that you and I should part with one cold feeling between us; and I come to ask forgiveness for any pain that I have caused you throughout life."
"Oh, Alured!" exclaimed Lucy, "the last and most dreadfu............