With the Black Prince

by William Osborn Stoddard

  CHAPTER IV.

  THE KING'S MESSENGER.

  The prince was but a youth, although of good stature and strongly made.From his cradle up he had been trained under the care of the stout king,his father, and of knights who were chosen from the best swords andbravest hearts in England. Assured was he that only a hardy soldier anda good general might safely keep the crown. The barons of therealm--half kings in their own domains--had proved the ruin of thesecond Edward, and only by deep cunning and ruthless force had the thirdof the name broken loose from a like thraldom. Much blood had been shedbefore the scepter was firmly in his grasp; and a fiercely royalself-will had been instilled into the Prince of Wales as one of thesafeguards of his kingship. Therefore, when sent to Warwick to conferconcerning the mustering of the forces, he had come there to command aswell as to take counsel.

  "My Lord of Harcourt," he said with much dignity to that noble warrior,"I have listened well to all that hath been said. Plain is it that theearl is right. There will be no crossing to France with King David ofScotland threatening the border counties. We must hear from theArchbishop of York. I will send the Wartmont. He will go and come rightspeedily."

  There was he now in front of the castle gate, with Guy the Bow and tenmore of the archers of Arden. To Richard himself had been given a freshhorse and good, with two pack beasts well laden, for the king's especialpost might make a good show at any castle or town he should come to onhis way. So was it with his merry men all, for their buff coats were newand they covered each a doublet of green cloth. All their galloways weresaddled and bridled, with fair housings, and one of them carried a lanceand a pennon, whereon were blazoned a white star and cross, and overthem a gilded crown, in token of their errand. Woe to any who shoulddare to hinder a messenger of the king, or fail to speed him on theking's errand!

  Not that Richard himself knew the meaning of the letters that were inhis pouch, nor that matters of state were in his head. But a proud bandand merry were the bowmen who rode behind him out of the town gate andup the highway to the northward.

  "O my Lord of Wartmont!" said Guy the Bow. "This is better than I hadhoped. I had not so much cared to see the outland folk, but I hadhungered for a look at more of England."

  "Thou art out of the woods now," replied Richard, "and so am I, butthere is little more for us than riding from sleep to sleep, and caringwell for our beasts. We may not pause under any roof longer than tobreak our fast and let the galloways rest."

  "We can see as we go," said Ben of Coventry. "A man learneth much bywhat he seeth. But half the archers of Arden would come at the king'scall, if they knew how well they would be taken in hand."

  That truly was the wisdom of the prudent Earl of Warwick, and it suitedthe humor of the prince, for from all the land the levies had been slowin gathering. As for himself, his stay in Warwick was to be of thebriefest, for he had learned many things to carry to the ears of hisroyal sire at London.

  Well went it with the Lady Maud after she had spoken a short farewell toher son that day, for she was now housed with kindred and with manynoble ladies, and was hearing tidings of the world that could not havereached her at Wartmont. Moreover, there were new fashions of dress andequipage that all women love to learn, and the stately dame herself hadbrought with her goodly fabrics ready for shaping by the skilledneedlewomen of her sister, the countess. It was better than beingcooped almost alone in the gloomy old keep at Wartmont.

  A day and a night, and a day and then another night, lingered theprince. His main business seemed to be with the levies, and he said tohimself:

  "I will know them man by man, and so will the king, my father. I willmeasure with care the force wherewith we are to meet Philip of France.The king is most of all wary concerning his bowmen. I like well theWartmont's tall deer stealers. They are worth a pardon. We must havemore of them. I, too, must be seen in Wales. Would that I could drainout of it the most unruly spirits and the fiercest outlaws. So is theking's command concerning Ireland. If any rogue there is worse thananother, let him be brought in and put in training."

  Deep was the craft of the king, therefore, and of the prince, for if anywild man came at their call, and they liked not the promise of his thewsand sinews, him they took not, after testing him, for he might be nobetter than one of the peasants of the King of France, fitter to digthan to carry sword and buckler.

  The summer days went by, even as Richard had told his men. Steadily,even hastily, they pressed their northward way, and tower and town gavethem hearty welcome. There were those who unduly asked what their errandmight be, but to noble or simple there was but one reply:

  "Ask thou the king, if thou wilt meddle with his business."

  There were earls and barons, of course, to whom was due great courtesyof speech, and, indeed, to all ears there was much free news to tell.Ever, as they went farther on, they heard more rumors of the doubtfulstate of things upon the Scottish border.

  "There was never peace there," said the Earl of Arundel, at the gate ofa castle where Richard met with him and other noble lords. "King Davidwill be in England within a week from the sailing of the English fleet.Young sir, tell thou this from me to the good archbishop. Bid him sendfew levies to the king from the north counties, but hold a force inwaiting that shall be as good as any the king may convey to France. Elsewe shall see the thistles of Scotland halfway to London town before hecan meet the lilies of France in any field beyond the sea."

  Richard bowed low, for he was abashed before so grand a company; but hehad not ridden far before he heard Ben of Coventry assuring Guy the Bow,with his usual freedom:

  "Right wise was yonder earl, thou fat-head. But doth he deem that theking hath forgotten Scotland? Trust thou him for that. Ah me, that wemust go and come and never kill a Scot!"

  "Or be killed by them," said Guy. "Keep thy head for the French to hackat. Thou wilt get knocks enough."

  "Mayhap," said Ben; "but I say one thing: Never did twelve men fromArden fare so well for no harder work than riding. It payeth me to servethe king. We have been feasted all the way."

  "Wert thou in Scotland," laughed Guy, "it were otherwise. They eat butoatmeal cakes, and they know not of ale. I wonder much if they have deerin such a land where all is fog and mist, and where the days are shortat both ends. But the Scotch fight hard, and sorely would they harryEngland were a chance given them."

  They seemed to be at peace at that time, but King Edward and hisadvisers had rightly read the state of affairs in the kingdom over whichDavid the Bruce was but half a king. No check had as yet been given tothe power of the great Scottish baronial houses. They were beyond thecontrol of any man, and David had inherited his father's valor withouteither the generalship or the prudence of the great Robert the Bruce.

  It was at last in the morning of a fair, warm day that Richard and hisarchers rode out from under a dense wood to shout together as one manfor what they saw.

  "Aye, here we are!" said Richard, "and yonder is the spire of YorkCathedral. One hour more and we are at our journey's end."

  Never before had any man among them journeyed so far, but they showedsmall signs of wear or weariness. Nevertheless, at Richard's commandthey gave goodly attention to their apparel and their weapons, and tothe coats of their beasts, before presenting themselves at the gate ofthe ancient cathedral city.

  "I have heard tell," said Richard to Guy, "that here was a town in theold days of the Romans. There hath been many a battle and leaguer beforethese walls."

  "The Romans?" replied Guy. "I was told of them by a Cornish man. Therewere giants in Cornwall in those days. God grant they are all gone theirway; but the Cornish men say they at times find the long bones and thebig, hollow skulls."

  "The gates are well guarded," was the next thought of Richard. "Canthere be bad news from the north?"

  Guards there were, and none went out or in without notice to discernwell whom they might be, as if, perchance, there were spies in the land.

  "In the king's name!" shouted Richard,
at the gate, "Richard ofWartmont. From Earl Warwick and the king's duty to his Grace theArchbishop."

  "In the king's name, enter!" as loudly responded a crested knight whohad advanced before the sentries. "Follow thou me to the archbishop. Thewarders will care for thy men. I am Robert Johnstone of the Hill. Artthou not a Neville, and my kinsman?"

  "That am I," said Richard. "My father was Sir Edward Neville."

  "Good knight and true," responded Sir Robert. "I have fought at hisside. There must needs be a rare message when thy uncle the earl chosethee for his postboy."

  "Words must be few," said Richard, "but now I know who thou art, I willtell----"

  "Tell not!" interrupted the knight. "Do I not discern thy pennon? Namenot any who were with the earl until thou hast emptied thy postbag. Thouart but young, and these be treacherous times. A brave band are thymen----"

  "Archers of my own company," said Richard, a little proudly. "Every manfrom the forests of Arden."

  "And every man a born retainer of Sir Edward Neville's house," laughedJohnstone. "Do I not know thee and thine? We will have speech togethersoon, where there may be no other ears. The Johnstones are as thou art,the chiefs of old clans that the new men can do naught with."

  Great then was the surprise of the young messenger when his suddenacquaintance talked to him in Saxon, bidding him also not to use thatspeech except among his own, and telling him that the north countiescontained more than did the midlands of such men as had preservedjealously the memories of the days of Harold the Saxon.

  "'Tis a tough race," said the knight. "It is a good foundation for thyhouse to rest upon. Aye, or for the king's throne. Now, if thou wiltdismount, yonder esquire will care for thy horse."

  Sir Robert appeared to be acting as captain of warders, and nonequestioned or hindered him as he and Richard walked on, side by side,toward the castlelike palace which served as the residence of thearchbishop. The town was the largest, and its buildings were the bestthat Richard yet had seen. He knew, moreover, that the learned prince ofthe Church before whom he was about to stand was also accounted secondto none among the statesmen of England, with rare capacity for affairsof war as well as of peace. He was a man, therefore, to whom might beintrusted the safety of a realm in the absence of its king, and in himhad Edward the Third unshaken confidence as being loyal and true.

  Word of their coming had gone on before them swift-footed, and theywere ushered with all haste into the great hall where his Grace wasalready present, for the reception of they knew not what or whom.

  At the upper end of the hall, upon a raised dais of three steps, was athrone chair, carved richly with emblems of the Church, and surmountedby a high cross that seemed of silver. In front of this, clad gorgeouslyin flowing robes, stood the archbishop, and before him knelt a knight insplendid armor, but bareheaded, just on the point of rising. The quickeyes of the prelate flashed keenly, and he turned to an attendant monk.

  "Anselmus," he said in Latin, "bring hither yonder messenger. I mustread his letters before I have further speech with Douglas."

  "He hath summoned thee," whispered Sir Robert to Richard. "Speak not atall to him, lest thou err greatly. Yon is the knight of Liddesdale, theprowest spear of Scotland. His presence bodeth no good to England, Ifear."

  The monk came and touched Richard's arm and led him forward. Glad was heof his injunction not to speak, for he was greatly awed to be in thatpresence. He walked onward with bowed head, and on the dais he kneltbefore the archbishop.

  "Thy letters, my son," said the prelate.

  Not a word spoke Richard, but he silently presented three sealedmissives. One he knew was from the prince, one from the Earl ofWarwick, and the third was to him a secret. Nevertheless he heard thearchbishop mutter:

  "The king's own hand?"

  Then he said aloud:

  "Wait thou here, my son. Rise; I will return presently. My Lord Douglas,come thou with me into my cabinet."

  Richard arose and stood in his place, but it seemed not long before thearchbishop strode back again, and with him came the knight ofLiddesdale.

  "Your Grace," said the latter, "I ride within the hour."

  "Peace go with thee," responded the archbishop. "Peace be with thee andthine; with thy king and my king; with Scotland and with England! Amen!"

  Then from all who were present came a responsive Amen, as the knightknelt for a parting blessing and rose to depart.

  "Come thou, my son Richard," said the archbishop. "I would hear thee."

  It was strange fortune for a youth so inexperienced to find himselfmingling in affairs so tremendous, and Richard hardly breathed until hewas alone with the great man in a kind of oratory wherein was an altar.

  "Speak!" said the archbishop. "Tell all."

  First, then, Richard told of the prince and De Maunay at Wartmont, andthe archbishop answered not save to mutter:

  "So! thou hast slain that wolf, the Club of Devon. Thou art like thyfather."

  Then told Richard not of the grange in the woods, but of his going toWarwick with his archers, and again he heard the prelate mutter, but inSaxon:

  "Saxons, all! How we of the old blood do cling together! He doeth well."

  All the words of the prince and of those with him were repeated, but nocomment was made. After that told Richard the saying of the Earl ofArundel, and he had finished.

  "Well for thee, my son," said the archbishop. "Thou hast seen LordDouglas. He is for peace. Mark me, I will write letters. Thou wilt bearthem. Wait in York till they are given thee. Come not to me unless Isummon thee. I note that thou rememberest clearly, and canst carry thatwhich may not be written. This, then, say to the king or to the prince,but not to another save John Beauchamp the earl, lest thou die. Bid theking from me that Douglas and his friends will fail in their counselsfor peace. David of Scotland is for war, and waiteth but opportunity. Hemust now have one. Edward the King will not but seem to drain of forcethese northern counties, that the Scottish lords may deem themunguarded. He will gather an army for his war in France. Such anotherwill we prepare to meet the Scottish invasion. Let the king be sure thatwhen he saileth for France the Scottish host will march for the Englishborder. Edward will prove too much for so rash a man, with all hiscunning, as is Philip of France. In like manner we will prove too muchfor David of Scotland, who despiseth the warnings of men like Douglas ofLiddesdale. We will crush the Scottish invasion, taking the unwise in asnare. Go!"

  Deep was the reverence with which Richard turned to depart. More wordswere given him, however, and much was his wonder at a man who seemed toknow the thoughts of the hearts of other men, and to read the forces ofthe kingdoms as if he were counting pennies.

  A good monk led the young messenger out of the hall and gave him intothe care of Sir Robert Johnstone.

  "Say not too much to me," said the knight. "I talked with Liddesdale,and heavy of heart is he. A wise man as well as a good captain; but theScots must learn a lesson. How long tarriest thou in York?"

  "For letters only," said Richard.

  "Then bide with me, and let thy men rest and their beasts. I will showthee the town and the castle and the cathedral. 'Tis a grand old town.I like it well."

  "I shall like well to see," said Richard. "But how great is thearchbishop! Never before have I looked into the face of such a man."

  "Wait, then, until thou hast seen the king," replied Sir Robert. "Try ifthou canst read him. Thou wilt be with the prince."

  Out they went, and Richard's eyes were so busy that he found small usefor his tongue. Nor was there great need, save for a question here andthere, for the knight had taken a liking to him and was willing toinstruct him.

  "Some day," he said, "thou mayest lead thy archery hitherward. Spare notto learn aught that might serve thee if thou wert a captain, in whateverland thou shalt at any time visit."

  At the close of the day, when the vespers were ringing sweetly in thecathedral tower, Richard was with his men, and they gathered around himgladly, telling how well the
y had fared.

  "Guy the Bow," laughed Richard, "tell me truly, now, of those who havebeen with thee. Hast thou broken thy jaws with French or north English,or hast thou chattered in Saxon?"

  The laugh was echoed from man to man, and Guy the Bow responded:

  "Now, my lord, knowest thou this already? There be more of the old sorthere than in Warwickshire. They tell that there be many Nevilleshereaway, and it seemed right to them that one of thy house should beour captain. But I hear that the bowmen of these parts are to be kept athome."

  "Say not too much of that to any man," said Richard, for at once heremembered the words of the archbishop.

  "The king," he thought, "will deal with the Scots as with the French.They must get their teaching from the longbow and the cloth-yard arrow."

  Rest came well that night after so long a journey. The next day, and thenext, were but spent in seeing sights and in waiting for orders. On thethird day, however, before the sun was a half hour high, came Sir RobertJohnstone to greet his young friend.

  "Up, Richard of Wartmont!" he gayly shouted. "Take thou this pouch andkeep it with thy life until thou shalt deliver it to the king's hand.Thine uncle the earl, or the prince, shall be to thee as the king, buton thy life and on thy head give it to no other."

  The parcel was small and it was tightly bound in dressed deerskin. Itcould be hidden under a coat of mail, and there did Richard at onceconceal it.

  "I will but break my fast," he said. "Then we will mount and ride."

  "Beware of overhaste," said the knight. "Safety is more than speed insuch a case as this. A day more or less will not matter. Thou wilt knowenough not to talk loosely by the way, but it is from his Grace himselfthat thou shalt speak only of peace with Scotland. Baron or earl orcommon, all must rest assured that the Scots are weary of war. Well theymight be, were there wisdom in them. I would their king were older. Weshall beat them the more easily because he putteth aside such captainsas the Knight of Liddesdale, and listeneth to hot-headed young chiefsthat never yet saw a thousand spears in line."

  "Thou wilt be here?" said Richard.

  "That will I," replied the Johnstone. "The king will hear a good reportof his north country bowmen. If thou speakest of it to the prince, saythis from me, that in his own camp there shall be no better disciplinenor closer archery."

  Rapid was their talking, but when they summoned Richard's men there wasa shout. They had seen enough of York already, and they were eager forthe road. To them all it was more like a long junketing than aught else.

  "All Arden would list," said Ben of Coventry, "for this sort of warservice. But I had hoped somewhat for a brush with the Scots. Not anarrow hath sped since we set forth from Warwick."

  "Thou wilt have archery enough before thou art done with the king'swar," replied Richard.

  "Mind thou thy galloway, Ben," interrupted Guy the Bow. "What knowestthou of the Scots? They are many a league away."

  "Aye, man," said Ben, "and all the Yorkshire men know that Douglas ofLiddesdale was here. All Scotland may march behind him some day."

  "Then I may say to thee," said Richard, "and to every man of thiscompany, speak not upon the way one word of the Knight of Liddesdale.Closed lips, safe head. We are on the king's errand."

  "Even so!" exclaimed Ben. "I was right. I deemed the Scottish captain abird of ill omen. Thou mayest trust thy men, Lord Richard of Wartmont.We of the greenwood are well used to keeping a silent tongue. Else wereour necks worth but little."

  Richard said no more; but it was well that he had with him none buttrusty companions, for all their journey homeward would be beset byshrewd questioners eager to get the latest tidings from the north.

  "I will take another road," he thought, "than that by which I came.There are roads plenty. The Earl of Arundel will be at Warwick when Iget there, or at London."

  Hearty was the farewell of Sir Robert Johnstone at the city gate, andgay was the setting forth of Richard and his men. But it was evenaccording to the saying of wise Ben of Coventry, that an esquire andeleven archers were riding a holiday with nothing to do but to ride andto be hailed at every gateside to tell what news.

  Even the second day passed in like manner, and it was far on in thethird when the first happening came.

  Not in any town or by any castle, but in the broad highway, there rodeto meet them a glittering array of men-at-arms.

  "Halt!" shouted Richard. "Form line at the roadside, till we know whatthis may mean. Yonder is a banner with the arms of Surrey. Why shouldsuch a flag be here? I know not the earl, nor is he a friend of theWarwick, Beauchamp or Neville."

  So many, in those troubled days, were the feuds and heartburnings amongthe stout barons of England!

  On came the lances, fully a score, with mounted esquires and serving menas many, and Richard sat alone upon his horse in the roadway, with Guythe Bow at his side bearing the prince's pennon.

  Sharply the men-at-arms drew rein, and only one knight spurred forward.

  "Richard of Wartmont!" he exclaimed. "Glad am I thou camest this way.They who wait thee on the other road must not know thy errand. Surreyis not here, but the Earl of Northampton."

  "My Lord of Harcourt," responded Richard firmly, "I may not answer eventhee, nor give my errand save to our liege the king, or to the prince."

  "Thou wouldst deserve to lose thy head if thou didst," replied SirGeoffrey of Harcourt. "Do thou, however, as if the prince bade thee. Gonot to Warwick, but send thy archery there. Turn thou with me and ridefor thy life until thou art out of reach of the king's enemies."

  "Guy the Bow," said Richard, turning to him, "hast thou heard?"

  "If it be also thy command," said Guy, "fear not for us. Little do weneed of highways or of any man's permission. Let me have speech with themen."

  "Bid them to reach Warwick town as best they may," said Richard.

  To the roadside and to his company went Guy, and in a few moments morehe raised a hand, and the few words he spoke were in Saxon.

  Up again went the hand of Richard, with a loud "Ha! Ride!"

  Now at that place was a great forest, with a deep ditch along theroadside.

  As Richard lowered his hand, over the ditch went the line of galloways,and it was but a twinkling before all had vanished among the trees.

  "Wartmont," exclaimed the knight, "thou hast thy men well in hand! Iwill tell the prince of this. Thou canst call them and thou canst sendthem."

  "How is this?" loudly demanded a not unkindly voice, as another rider insplendid armor rode near them.

  "My Lord of Northampton," said Sir Geoffrey, smiling, "Richard hath senthome his galloways, and they took their riders with them. He must notpause----"

  "A few words only," said the earl; "I shall not hinder the king'sservice. Arundel gave thee a message. Was it delivered?"

  "It was, my lord the earl," said Richard. "I may say to thee it wastimely."

  "Knowing from him what it was," said the earl, "I need ask no more onthat head"; but he went on with what seemed to be only general inquiriesas to the health of the archbishop and the gatherings of levies at Yorkand elsewhere.

  "Haste!" muttered Harcourt.

  "On, then!" almost shouted the earl. "Ride well, thou of Wartmont, lestthe foes of the Neville as well as the traitors to the king shall barthy way. But I am glad that they lied who said that the good archbishopis failing. On!"

  Silent and motionless upon their horses sat the men-at-arms as Harcourtand Richard galloped by.

  Miles away, upon another road, a somewhat like band of warlike men werehalted as if waiting, and to him who seemed their leader it was said, bya small, gray-headed man at his side:

  "Could we but know the mind of the archbishop we might be able to tellthe king why we pay not his contributions, and why thy retainers are noton the march for Portsmouth."

  "We shall have his Grace's letters before the sun is down," hoarselyresponded the knight addressed. "I would there might be somewhat inWartmont's doublet to imperil the proud head
of his uncle Warwick."

  "Aye, my Lord of Surrey," said the gray-headed man, "it were overcunningof John Beauchamp to have the young Neville so near the prince. Thathouse towereth too high. We will tumble it somewhat."

  Small was the knowledge of Richard concerning the plots and perilsthrough which he and his had ridden, but in a small, elegantly furnishedroom, at many a long mile's distance, there sat at that hour twain whospoke of him.

  "My son," remarked one of them, "I will not say that thou and Warwickwere overconfident to send a boy. The time for his return draweth near."

  "'Tis far to ride," replied the younger of the pair, and he was verymuch the younger. "I sent Sir Geoffrey Harcourt to watch for him, elsehe might not come. My royal sire, Richard Neville and his archers mightcome and go where a knight and a score of men-at-arms would fail."

  "Or turn traitor, as some have done," slowly responded the king. "Theland reeks with treason, but half of it would have us go to France andbe beaten, while the other half would have us stay at home and lose allto Philip of Valois."

  So communed King Edward and the Black Prince, telling of the dangerswhich may beset a crown. Much had they to say concerning the power ofthe barons, but more of the building up of their strength among thepeople.

  "Mark thou this, my son," said the king at last, "make thou the commonsto be strong, and the crown is safe against the barons. When I can showthee bowmen defeating knights and men-at-arms, thou wilt see a new dayfor England. After that it shall not be long until a successful merchantshall be greater than an earl. Am not I also a merchant? Learn thou theart of the trader, for it is part of the wisdom of kings in the timethat is coming."

  All through his reign had commerce grown, and manufactures beenencouraged by the king, while more and more with a strong hand he stroveto restrain the barons. Not till a later day, however, were they to bebroken; but, even as he now said, they were to go down partly by theirown jealousies and feuds, but more by the power of the commons.

  It was therefore a lesson in kingcraft that the prince was receivingfrom his father, but at the end of it the youth walked out along acorridor, murmuring:

  "The king is sore disturbed. He hath great need to hear from York and ofScotland. Well for Richard Neville if he arrive speedily, for my royalfather is not always safe in his mood. But he was pleased concerning theNeville and his archers."

  It was sunset when Richard and Sir Geoffrey drew rein before a hostelryin a large hamlet.

  "Dismount!" said the knight sharply. "I will give thee here a freshhorse, and thine shall follow. Ten leagues farther on, as I will givethee instruction, thou wilt get thee another. Ride till thou drop fromthy saddle, but I trust thy toughness will bear thee through. If thoumust sleep one night, camp thee in a wood, not in a house, lest thouawake and find thy pouch missing, or lest thou wake not at all."

  The fresh horse was a good one, but now Richard, with full directionsfor the way, rode on alone, bearing still the banneret of the prince.

  'Twas a fair night, and the full moon gave light as of the day. Mileafter mile went by and all was well, but he came to an open level ofbroad highway whereon much could be seen afar.

  "A man-at-arms?" said Richard. "He faceth this way. I may not let himstop me. I will close my visor and be ready for what may come."

  He shut his helmet tightly and lowered his lance, loosening also thebattle-axe at his saddle bow. He had need, for the strange man-at-armsuttered no warning, but dashed suddenly forward with lance in rest.'Twas but the fortune of tourney, for the foeman rode well and he waslarge. His lance point glanced from the helmet of the young messenger,while Richard smote him full upon the breast.

  Splintered to the hand was the lance, but the stranger reeled in thesaddle, and before he could recover himself Richard had wheeled, axe inhand.

  "In the king's name!" he shouted, "what doest thou with the king'smessenger?"

  Down came the battle-axe, striking the bridle arm of the stranger, sothat while he drew his sword with his right hand he could not manage hishorse.

  "For the king!" shouted Richard.

  "Down with thee, thou cub of Wartmont!" roared the stranger angrily. "Iwill take thy messages. Ha!"

  'Twas a good blow, but it stopped upon the shield of the Neville, whileonce more the axe fell heavily with the curvet of Richard's horse. Sorewounded upon one thigh was now the man-at-arms, and his steed plungedviciously to one side.

  "I will have thee!" he shouted, but his sword swept vainly through theair, while Richard charged again.

  "Thy helm this time!" he muttered as his axe came down.

  Cloven through was the steel headpiece, and the man-at-arms let fall hissword.

  "Neville, I yield me!" he cried out. "Smite not again."

  "Who art thou?" demanded Richard.

  "That ask thou not, if thou art wise," responded the stranger. "For theeto know my name were thy death-warrant. Thou hast perils enough. Rideon, and tell the king that an old man-at-arms who could grind thee topowder hath been beaten by a lad. I have fought in twenty pitchedfields, and now I must even ride home to save my broken head."

  "I will harm thee not," said Richard, "but I fear thee not. Thy headwere worth but little----"

  "Trust me, it is safe," said the stranger. "The king will leave it whereit is. I shall see thee again some day. Thou wilt be a good lance, butcarry thou not too many king's errands. Fare thee well!"

  He had regained control of his horse, and now he suddenly spurred awayin the very direction by which Richard had come. Down sprang the latterto pick up the fallen lance and to fasten upon it the pennon his own hadcarried before it was broken. Then, as he mounted once more, heexclaimed aloud:

  "Ride I now for my life! I shall be followed fast and far. I know notfriend from foe, save that the nearer I get to the king the safer Ishall be."

  His good horse neighed cheerily, as if he knew that his rider hadconquered, and a proud youth was Richard Neville.

  "I have won my first passage at arms," he said. "I shall have somewhatwhereof to tell the prince."