Forest Days: A Romance of Old Times
a kind heart must surely make more impression than a greater boon wrung
from us by long soliciting. Go, then, Lucy--go! see if he be there; if
not, come back to me, and go again. I would not let him know I waited
for him, were I you; for the best child may be spoiled, Lucy; but
neither would I make him wait for me, lest ever the time should come
when he might think he had waited long enough."
Lucy kissed the princess's hand, and after enquiring somewhat timidly
her way, quitted the room and descended the narrow staircase which
Eleanor directed her to take. Winding round and round till her head was
almost giddy, and holding fast by the column, about which the small
steps turned, Lucy at length reached the little archway that led out
into the cloister, and which, as usual, was wide open.
The scene before her was the wide open park which surrounded the
palace, and was then called Eltham Chase, and over it the moonlight was
streaming peacefully, pouring in also under the cloister and paving it
with silver, while across the glistening stones fell the dark shadows
of the beautiful Norman arches. Lucy paused before she issued forth,
seeing no one within the range of her eye at that moment; but there was
the sound of a step, and the quick ear of love instantly recognised the
well-known tread, which she had listened for, many a day in Lindwell
Castle, ere the lover knew that he was loved in return.
She still kept back, however, under the shadow of the doorway, that she
might be quite sure; but in a moment or two after, the step turned and
came nearer and nearer, till at length the tall, graceful form of Hugh
de Monthermer, with his arms folded on his chest, and his eyes bent
upon the ground, as if he expected to play the sentinel some time,
appeared in the moonlight, and approached the place where she was
standing.
Lucy was soon by his side; and it was not easy for Hugh to find words
to express his gratitude for her coming, and his joy at her presence.
Although she had resolved to stay with him but a short time, to give
him the message that she had received, at once, and then to return to
the princess as speedily as possible, it must be owned, that the
thoughts of both herself and her lover dwelt upon those dear subjects,
which naturally presented themselves on being thus alone with each
other for the first time after a long separation, and that half an hour
passed in the sweet dalliance of two young hearts, full of warm and
tender affection. Lucy felt almost grateful to Hugh for having forced
her to confess her love, it was so delightful, now that it was
confessed, to dwell upon it, and to give it voice unrestrained.
To Hugh it seemed almost a dream, to have her there beside him in the
calm moonlight, to hold that fair soft hand in his, to see those dark
eyes raise their fringed curtains and pour their living light upon his
face. Who can wonder that they forgot the minutes in such joys as the
human heart can know but once in life?
At length, however, some accidental circumstance woke them from their
dream of love and happiness.
"I had forgot, Hugh," cried Lucy, disengaging her hand from his; "the
princess expects me back again soon, and I had to tell you much that I
have not told.--We have been at Nottingham since I saw you, for they
sent me to Lindwell while the army lay at Worcester. After that fatal
battle, which I thought would have killed your poor Lucy, too--for with
a brother, and a father, and a lover there, ranked upon opposite sides,
I had well-nigh died with fear and anxiety--after that battle of
Evesham, I used to listen eagerly for tidings, converse with every
countryman I met, and glean even the lightest rumours that might tell
me of the fate of those I loved. I could hear nothing of you or your
uncle, however, till one day, as I was walking near the castle, and
alone, I sat down beneath the shadow of an oak.--You remember the old
oak within sight of the hall window, where once----"
"Where first I fancied that Lucy might love me," answered Hugh.
Lucy paused for a moment, and then replied; "You might have fancied it
before, Hugh; if your eyes had but been bright.--Well, I was sitting
beneath the shadow of that oak, when, suddenly, I heard something
rustle-overhead, and in a moment, down from the branches like a falling
acorn, dropped the strange boy, that accompanied us from the forest, on
that sweet ride, which I shall never forget. At first, I was alarmed,
and was going to run to the castle; but when I saw who it was, I lost
my fear, and asked him what he wanted. He then told me more than I had
ever heard before: that the battle had gone against the English party;
that Hugh de Monthermer was wounded and prisoner; and also, that I was
ere long to be called upon to join my father at Derby, and go with him
to London. 'And now,' said the dwarf, 'I am to charge you with a
message. Sooner, or later,' he continued, 'you will meet the young lord
in the capital; tell him that his uncle lives, that he is nearly well
of his wounds; but that, as he knows his life is forfeited, he dare not
show himself. A report is rife, that he has escaped to France. Such,
however, is not the case, he is even now under the boughs of merry
Sherwood, and he would fain see his nephew there in secret. So, tell
him, lady, when you find him; but tell him when he is quite alone, when
there is no ear but yours and his to hear, for the lives of more than
one good man and true, are trusted to your discretion.' Such, dear
Hugh, was the message he bade me give you, and I willingly undertook to
do so, though I knew not when I might have the means. But, I have a
prayer to put, Hugh--I have a boon to ask, which you must not refuse to
Lucy de Ashby, if you be a true knight and a true lover."
"Ask it, dear Lucy," he replied, "whatever it be, consistent with my
honour, I will do it, were it to carry the cross from the top of the
chapel into Palestine, and make the Sultan bow down and worship it."
"Nay--nay!" cried Lucy, with a smile, though such strange vows were not
uncommon then; "it is not so hard as that, Hugh, it is but that you
promise me, you will take no farther part in these secret conspiracies
to levy war against the throne. The cause is lost, Hugh, whether it was
a good or a bad one; and if Hugh de Monthermer mingles with it more, he
will but bring destruction upon himself, and misery upon Lucy de Ashby.
See your noble uncle, dear Hugh; but try and lead him to make
submission. At all events, for my sake, promise to abstain yourself
from any further efforts in an enterprise which is hopeless and past
away."
"You must ask another boon, Lucy," said Hugh.
"What, will you not grant the first request I make?" cried Lucy,
quickly.
"Nay, not so," answered her lover; "it is, that this is no request at
all, my Lucy, for I have made the same promise to myself, beforehand.
I can never bear arms more against Edward Plantagenet, let who will
call me to the field. So wherever his banner floats, mine shall never
be raised to oppose it. This makes me bid you ask another boon, dear
Lucy."
"Well, I will," said Lucy; but ere she could, explain what it was, she
was interrupted.
During their conversation they had wandered backwards and forwards
under the cloister, and at this time were pausing at the end farthest
from the door leading to the apartments of the Princess. It
unfortunately happens but too often, that, not only love, but a lover
is blind--blind to all external objects as well as to the faults of her
he loves; and certainly such must have been the case with Hugh de
Monthermer at that moment; otherwise he would have seen before, that
while he turned hither and thither with Lucy de Ashby, the cloister did
not remain untenanted, as he believed. More than once, two or three
figures had come round the farther angle of the palace the moment his
back was turned, and entering the cloister, had watched him and Lucy
with laughing, and yet malicious looks.
At the very moment, however, that Hugh de Monthermer and the Lady
paused at the end of the southern front, a voice, coming from the dark
arcade which ran along the western side of the building and joined that
where they now stood, at a right angle, said in a low but distinct
tone, as if the speaker were close to them, "You are watched--you are
watched! Go back, or you will be caught!"
Hugh's first impulse was to start forward to discover who it was that
spoke; but Lucy, terrified at the bare idea of being found there by any
of the licentious minions of Henry's court, sprang from him, crying,
"Let me fly, Hugh--let me fly! Adieu adieu!" and, darting along the
cloister with the speed of a startled deer, she ran towards the doorway
leading to the stairs.
Hugh de Monthermer followed at a somewhat slower pace, thinking that on
that side she was safe; but just when Lucy was within a few yards of
the arch to which her steps were directed, some three or four men came
out from under the pillars, and advanced towards her with a shout of
ribald laughter. With a bound like that of a sword-player, Hugh de
Monthermer sprang forward, and was by her side before they could reach
her.
"Halloo, halloo!" cried one; "we have started the game."
"Run it down--run it down!" exclaimed another; and a third, evidently
bearing more wine than wit, added something still more offensive.
Another step brought the lovers close to the doorway, but one of the
revellers cast himself in the way, as if to stop the passage.
"Stand back, Sir Guy de Margan!" cried the young knight, sternly;
"stand back, I say."
But, finding that instead of doing as he was directed, the other spread
wide his arms to catch Lucy as he passed, Hugh struck him one blow with
his clenched hand which laid him prostrate on the pavement.
Lucy sprang through the doorway and ran up the steps like lightning;
and her lover, folding his arms upon his chest, walked slowly onward
through the midst of those opposed to him. They regarded him with
frowning brow, and muttering voices, but suffered him to pass; and as
he reached the gate which led towards his own chamber, he heard a sound
of loud laughter, succeeding apparently to the anger which the blow he
had struck had produced.
CHAPTER XXV.
In one of the ante-rooms of the palace at Eltham, on the morning
following, sat five gentlemen, dressed with extravagant gaudiness,
their hair curled, and in some instances plaited like that of women,
and their persons adorned with innumerable rings and trinkets.
"Out upon it!--bear a blow?" cried one of them. "I will have revenge!"
"How will you seek it, De Margan?" asked another. "With a bodkin?"
"Nay, nay, let him alone," said the third, "he is a man of spirit, and
will dare this proud knight to the field."
"Who will crack him there," rejoined the second speaker, "as the King
cracks a crawfish!"
"How is that?" inquired the first.
"Between his finger and thumb," replied the other.
"This is all nonsense," joined in one who had not yet spoken.
"Monthermer is a prisoner and cannot underlie a defiance."
"De Margan will do better than defy him," said the fifth personage. "He
knows that there are shrewder means of revenge in his power than that.
Tell them, De Margan--tell them! and we will all go in with you and
bear it out!"
"Ay!" cried Sir Guy de Margan, "those two fair lovers would, I rather
fancy, give each a finger of their right hand rather than have the Earl
of Ashby know their secret moonlight meeting in the cloister. Neither
would the good Earl much like to have the tale told of his fair
daughter showering such favours on this good Lord Hugh; and Alured de
Ashby, I have heard, hates these Monthermers worse than a cat hates
oil."