by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER III.
A THWARTED PLOT.
A boat was rowing rapidly down the stream. It had passed the village ofChelsea, and the men were doing their best to reach their destination atWestminster before nightfall. Two men were rowing; in the stern sat alady with a girl of about eleven years old. A woman, evidently aservant, sat beside the lady, while behind, steering the boat, was anelderly retainer.
"It is getting dark," the lady said; "I would that my Cousin James hadnot detained us so long at Richmond, and then after all he was unable toaccompany us. I like not being out on the river so late."
"No, indeed, my lady," the woman replied; "I have heard tell lately muchof the doings of the river pirates. They say that boats are often pickedup, stove in and broken, and that none know what had become of theiroccupants, and that bodies, gashed and hewn, are often found floating inthe river."
"How horrible," the girl said; "your tale makes me shiver, Martha; Iwould you had said nothing about it till we were on land again."
"Do not be afraid, Edith," the lady said cheerfully; "we shall soon besafe at Westminster."
There were now only two or three boats to be seen on the river. Theywere nearing the end of their journey now, and the great pile of theabbey could be seen through the darkness. A boat with several men in itwas seen rowing across the river toward the Lambeth side. It wasawkwardly managed.
"Look out!" the steersman of the boat coming down stream shouted; "youwill run into us if you don't mind."
An order was given in the other boat, the men strained to their oars,and in an instant the boat ran with a crash into the side of the other,cutting it down to the water's edge. For a minute there was a wild sceneof confusion; the women shrieked, the watermen shouted, and, thinkingthat it was an accident, strove, as the boat sank from under them, toclimb into that which had run them down. They were speedily undeceived.One was sunk by a heavy blow with an oar, the other was stabbed with adagger, while the assailants struck fiercely at the old man and thewomen.
At this moment, however, a third boat made its appearance on the scene,its occupants uttering loud shouts. As they rowed toward the spot theirapproach was heralded by a shower of arrows. Two of the ruffians werestruck--one fell over mortally wounded, the other sank down into theboat.
"Row, men, row," their leader shouted, "or we shall all be taken."
Again seizing their oars, the rowers started at full speed toward theLambeth shore. The arrows of their pursuers still fell among them, twomore of their number being wounded before they reached the oppositeshore. The pursuit was not continued, the new-comers ceasing to row atthe spot where the catastrophe had taken place. Walter stood up in theboat and looked round. A floating oar, a stretcher, and a sheep-skinwhich had served as a cushion alone floated.
Suddenly there was a choking cry heard a few yards down stream, andWalter leaped into the river. A few strokes took him to the side of thegirl, and he found, on throwing his arm around her, that she was stillclasped in her mother's arms. Seizing them both, Walter shouted to hiscomrades. They had already turned the boat's head and in a minute werealongside.
It was a difficult task to get the mother and child on board, as thegirl refused to loose her hold. It was, however, accomplished, and thechild sat still and quiet by Walter's side, while his comradesendeavored to stanch the blood which was flowing from a severe wound inher mother's head. When they had bound it up they rubbed her hands, andby the time they had reached the steps at Westminster the lady openedher eyes. For a moment she looked bewildered, and then, on glancinground, she gave a low cry of delight at seeing her child sitting byWalter's side.
On reaching the steps the boys handed her over to the care of thewatermen there, who soon procured a litter and carried her, she beingstill too weak to walk, to the dwelling of the Earl of Talbot, where shesaid she was expected. The apprentices rowed back to London Bridge,elated at the success of their enterprise, but regretting much that theyhad arrived too late to hinder the outrage, or to prevent the escape ofits perpetrators.
Walter on his return home related the whole circumstance to his master.
"I would you had told me, Walter," the latter said, "since we might havetaken precautions which would have prevented this foul deed from takingplace. However, I can understand your wanting to accomplish theadventure without my aid; but we must think now what had best be saidand done. As the lady belongs to the court, there is sure to be a finepother about the matter, and you and all who were there will be examinedtouching your share of the adventure, and how you came to be upon thespot. The others will, of course, say that they were there under yourdirection; and we had best think how much of your story you had bettertell."
"Why should I not tell it all?" Walter asked indignantly.
"You should never tell a lie, Walter; but in days like these it is safersometimes not to tell more than is necessary. It is a good rule in life,my boy, to make no more enemies than may be needful. This knight, who isdoubtless a great villain, has maybe powerful friends, and it is aswell, if it can be avoided, that you should not embroil yourself withthese. Many a man has been knocked on the head or stabbed on a darknight, because he could not keep his tongue from wagging. 'Least said,the sooner mended,' is a good proverb; but I will think it overto-night, and tell you in the morning."
When they met again in the workshop the armorer said: "Clean yourself upafter breakfast, Walter, and put on your best clothes. I will go withyou before the mayor, and then you shall tell him your story. There issure to be a stir about it before the day is done. As we walk thither wecan settle how much of your story it is good to tell."
On their way over the bridge Geoffrey told Walter that he thought he hadbetter tell the whole story exactly as it had occurred, concealing onlythe fact that he had recognized the knight's face. "You had best, too,"he said, "mention naught about the white cloak. If we can catch the manof the hut in the swamp, likely enough the rack will wring from him thename of his employer, and in that case, if you are brought up as awitness against him you will of course say that you recognize his face;but 'tis better that the accusation should not come from you. No greatweight would be given to the word of a 'prentice boy as against that ofa noble. It is as bad for earthen pots to knock against brass ones as itis for a yeoman in a leathern jerkin to stand up against a knight infull armor."
"But unless the lady knows her enemy she may fall again into hissnares."
"I have thought of that," Geoffrey said, "and we will take measures toprevent it."
"But how can we prevent it?" Walter asked, surprised.
"We must find out who this knight may be, which should, methinks, not bedifficult. Then we will send to him a message that his share in thisnight's work is known to several, and that if any harm should ever againbe attempted against the lady or her daughter, he shall be denouncedbefore King Edward himself as the author of the wrong. I trust, however,that we may capture the man of the swamp, and that the truth may bewrung from him."
By this time they had arrived at the guildhall, and making their wayinto the court, Geoffrey demanded private speech with the lord mayor.
"Can you not say in open court what is your business?" the lord mayorasked.
"I fear that if I did it would defeat the ends of justice."
Retiring with the chief magistrate into an inner room, Geoffrey desiredWalter to tell his story. This he did, ending by saying that heregretted much that he had not at once told his master what he hadheard; but that, although he deemed evil was intended, he did not knowthat murder was meant, and thought it but concerned the carrying off ofsome damsel, and that this he had intended, by the aid of his comrades,to prevent.
"You have done well, Master Walter, since that be your name," themagistrate said. "That you might have done better is true, for had youacted otherwise you might have prevented murder from being done. Stillone cannot expect old heads upon young shoulders. Give me the names ofthose who were with you, for I shall doubtless receive a message fromWes
tminster this morning to know if I have heard aught of the affair. Inthe mean time we must take steps to secure these pirates of the marsh.The ground is across the river, and lies out of my jurisdiction."
"It is for that reason," Geoffrey said, "that I wished that the storyshould be told to you privately, since the men concerned might well havesent a friend to the court to hear if aught was said which mightendanger them."
"I will give you a letter to a magistrate of Surrey, and he willdispatch some constables under your guidance to catch these rascals. Ifear there have been many murders performed by them lately besides thatin question, and you will be doing a good service to the citizens byaiding in the capture of these men."
"I will go willingly," the smith assented.
"I will at once send off a messenger on horseback," the lord mayor said,after a moment's thought. "It will be quicker. I will tell the justicethat if he will come to the meeting of the roads on Kensington Common,at seven this evening, you will be there with your apprentice to act asa guide."
"I will," the armorer said, "and will bring with me two or three of mymen who are used to hard blows, for, to tell you the truth, I have nogreat belief in the valor of constables, and we may meet with a stoutresistance."
"So be it," the lord mayor said; "and luck be with you, for these menare the scourges of the river."
That evening the armorer shut up his shop sooner than usual, andaccompanied by Walter and four of his workmen, all carrying stout oakencudgels, with hand-axes in their girdles, started along the lonely roadto Kensington. Half an hour after their arrival the magistrate, with tenmen, rode up. He was well pleased at the sight of the reenforcementwhich awaited him, for the river pirates might be expected to make adesperate resistance. Geoffrey advised a halt for a time until it shouldbe well-nigh dark, as the marauders might have spies set to give noticeshould strangers enter the marsh.
They started before it was quite dark, as Walter doubted whether heshould be able to lead them straight to the hut after the night hadcompletely fallen. He felt, however, tolerably sure of his locality, forhe had noticed that two trees grew on the edge of the swamp just at thespot where he had left it. He had no difficulty in finding these, and atonce led the way. The horses of the magistrate and his followers wereleft in charge of three of their number.
"You are sure you are going right?" the magistrate said to Walter. "Themarsh seems to stretch everywhere, and we might well fall into aquagmire, which would swallow us all up."
"I am sure of my way," Walter answered; "see, yonder clump of bushes,which you can just observe above the marsh, a quarter of a mile away, isthe spot where the house of their leader is situated."
With strict injunctions that not a word was to be spoken until the bushwas surrounded, and that all were to step noiselessly and with caution,the party moved forward. It was now nearly dark, and as they approachedthe hut, sounds of laughter and revelry were heard.
"They are celebrating their success in a carouse," Geoffrey said. "Weshall catch them nicely in a trap."
When they came close a man who was sitting just at the low mouth of thehut suddenly sprang to his feet and shouted, "Who goes there?" He hadapparently been placed as sentry, but had joined in the potations goingon inside, and had forgotten to look round from time to time to see thatnone were approaching.
At his challenge the whole party rushed forward, and as they reached thehut the men from within came scrambling out, sword in hand. For two orthree minutes there was a sharp fight, and had the constables been alonethey would have been defeated, for they were outnumbered and the pirateswere desperate.
The heavy clubs of the armorers decided the fight. One or two of theband alone succeeded in breaking through, the rest were knocked down andbound; not, however, until several severe wounds had been inflicted ontheir assailants.
When the fray was over, it was found that nine prisoners had beencaptured. Some of these were stunned by the blows which the smiths haddealt them, and two or three were badly wounded; all were more or lessinjured in the struggle. When they recovered their senses they were madeto get on their feet, and with their hands tied securely behind them,were marched between a double line of their captors off the marsh.
"Thanks for your services," the justice said when they had gained theplace where they had left their horses. "Nine of my men shall tie eachone of these rascals to their stirrups by halters round their necks, andwe will give them a smart run into Richmond, where we will lodge them inthe jail. Tomorrow is Sunday; on Monday they will be brought before me,and I shall want the evidence of Master Walter Fletcher and of those whowere in the boat with him as to what took place on the river. Methinksthe evidence on that score, and the resistance which they offered usthis evening, will be sufficient to put a halter round their necks; butfrom what I have heard by the letter which the lord mayor sent me, thereare others higher in rank concerned in the affair; doubtless we shallfind means to make these ruffians speak."
Accordingly, at the justice's orders, halters were placed round thenecks of the prisoners, the other ends being attached to the saddles,and the party set off at a pace which taxed to the utmost the strengthof the wounded men. Geoffrey and his party returned in high spirits toSouthwark.
On the Monday Walter went over to Richmond, accompanied by the armorersand by the lads who had been in the boat with him. The nine ruffians,strongly guarded, were brought up in the justice room. Walter first gavehis evidence, and related how he had overheard a portion of theconversation which led him to believe that an attack would be made uponthe boat coming down the river.
"Can you identify either of the prisoners as being the man whom you sawat the door of the hut?"
"No," Walter said. "When I first saw him I was too far off to make outhis face. When he left the hut it was dark."
"Should you know the other man, the one who was addressed as sir knight,if you saw him again?"
"I should," Walter replied. He then gave an account of the attack uponthe boat, but said that in the suddenness of the affair and the growingdarkness he noticed none of the figures distinctly enough to recognizethem again. Two or three of the other apprentices gave similar testimonyas to the attack.
A gentleman then presented himself, and gave his name as Sir William deHertford. He said that he had come at the request of the Lady AliceVernon, who was still suffering from the effects of the wound andimmersion. She had requested him to say that at some future occasion shewould appear to testify, but that in the confusion and suddenness of theattack she had noticed no faces in the boat which assailed them, andcould identify none concerned in the affair.
The justice who had headed the attack on the hut then gave his evidenceas to that affair, the armorer also relating the incidents of theconflict.
"The prisoners will be committed for trial," the justice said. "Atpresent there is no actual proof that any of them were concerned in thismurderous outrage beyond the fact that they were taken in the placewhere it was planned. The suspicion is strong that some at least wereengaged in it. Upon the persons of all of them were valuable daggers,chains, and other ornaments, which could not have been come by honestly,and I doubt not that they form part of the gang which has so long been aterror to peaceful travelers alike by the road and river, and it may bethat some who have been robbed will be able to identify the articlestaken upon them. They are committed for trial: firstly, as having beenconcerned in the attack upon Dame Alice Vernon; secondly, as beingnotorious ill-livers and robbers; thirdly, as having resisted lawfularrest by the king's officers. The greatest criminal in the affair isnot at present before me, but it may be that from such information asDame Vernon may be able to furnish, and from such confessions as justicewill be able to wring from the prisoners, he will at the trial standbeside his fellows."
Walter returned to town with his companions. On reaching the armorer'sthey found a retainer of the Earl of Talbot awaiting them, with themessage that the Lady Alice Vernon wished the attendance of WalterFletcher, whose name she
had learned from the lord mayor as that of thelad to whom she and her daughter owed their lives, at noon on thefollowing day, at the residence of the Earl of Talbot.
"That is the worst of an adventure," Walter said crossly, after theretainer had departed. "One can't have a bit of excitement without beingsent for, and thanked, and stared at. I would rather fight the bestswordsman in the city than have to go down to the mansion of Earl Talbotwith my cap in my hand."
Geoffrey laughed. "You must indeed have your cap in your hand, Walter;but you need not bear yourself in that spirit. The 'prentice of a Londoncitizen may have just as much honest pride and independence as theproudest earl at Westminster; but carry not independence too far.Remember that if you yourself had received a great service you would behurt if the donor refused to receive your thanks; and it would bechurlish indeed were you to put on sullen looks, or to refuse to acceptany present which the lady whose life you have saved may make you. It isstrange, indeed, that it should be Dame Vernon, whose husband, SirJasper Vernon, received the fiefs of Westerham and Hyde."
"Why should it be curious that it is she?" Walter asked.
"Oh!" Geoffrey said rather confusedly. "I was not thinking--that is--Imean that it is curious because Bertha Fletcher was for years adependent on the family of Sir Roland Somers, who was killed in thetroubles when the king took the reins of government in his hands, andhis lands, being forfeit, were given to Sir Jasper Vernon, who aided theking in that affair."
"I wish you would tell me about that," Walter said. "How was it thatthere was any trouble as to King Edward having kingly authority?"
"It happened in this way," Geoffrey said. "King Edward II., his father,was a weak prince, governed wholly by favorites and unable to hold incheck the turbulent barons. His queen, Isabella of France, sister of theFrench king, a haughty and ambitious woman, determined to snatch thereins of power from the indolent hands of her husband, and after a visitto her brother she returned with an army from Hainault in order todethrone him. She was accompanied by her eldest son, and after a shortstruggle the king was dethroned. He had but few friends, and men thoughtthat under the young Edward, who had already given promise of virtueand wisdom, some order might be introduced into the realm. He wascrowned Edward III., thus, at the early age of fifteen, usurping thethrone of his father. The real power, however, remained with Isabella,who was president of the council of regency, and who, in her turn, wasgoverned by her favorite Mortimer. England soon found that the changewhich had been made was far from beneficial. The government was by turnsweak and oppressive. The employment of foreign troops was regarded withthe greatest hostility by the people, and the insolence of Mortimeralienated the great barons. Finally, the murder of the dethroned kingexcited throughout the kingdom a feeling of horror and loathing againstthe queen.
"All this feeling, however, was confined to her, Edward, who was but apuppet in her hands, being regarded with affection and pity. Soon afterhis succession the young king was married to our queen, Philippa ofHainault, who is as good as she is beautiful, and who is loved from oneend of the kingdom to the other. I can tell you, the city was a sight tosee when she entered with the king. Such pageants and rejoicing werenever known. They were so young, he not yet sixteen and she butfourteen, and yet to bear on their shoulders the weight of the state. Abraver-looking lad and a fairer girl mine eyes never looked on. It wassoon after this that the events arose which led to the war with France,but this is too long a tale for me to tell you now. The Prince of Waleswas born on the 15th of June, 1330, two years after the royal marriage.
"So far the king had acquiesced quietly in the authority of his mother,but he now paid a visit to France, and doubtless the barons around himthere took advantage of his absence from her tutelage to shake herinfluence over his mind; and at the same time a rising took place athome against her authority. This was suppressed, and the Earl of Kent,the king's uncle, was arrested and executed by Isabella. This act ofseverity against his uncle no doubt hastened the prince's determinationto shake off the authority of his haughty mother and to assume the reinsof government himself. The matter, however, was not easy to accomplish.Mortimer having the whole of the royal revenue at his disposal, hadattached to himself by ties of interest a large number of barons, andhad in his pay nearly two hundred knights and a large body ofmen-at-arms. Thus it was no easy matter to arrest him. It was determinedthat the deed should be done at the meeting of the parliament atNottingham. Here Mortimer appeared with Isabella in royal pomp. Theytook up their abode at the castle, while the king and other members ofthe royal family were obliged to content themselves with an inferiorplace of residence.
"The gates of the castle were locked at sunset, and the keys brought bythe constable, Sir William Eland, and handed to the queen herself. Thisknight was a loyal and gallant gentleman, and regarded Mortimer with noaffection, and when he received the king's commands to assist the baronscharged to arrest him he at once agreed to do so. He was aware of theexistence of a subterranean communication leading from the interior ofthe castle to the outer country, and by this, on the night of the 19thof October, 1330, he led nine resolute knights--the Lords Montague,Suffolk, Stafford, Molins, and Clinton, with three brothers of the nameof Bohun, and Sir John Nevil--into the heart of the castle. Mortimer wasfound surrounded by a number of his friends. On the sudden entry of theknights known to be hostile to Mortimer his friends drew their swords,and a short but desperate fight took place. Many were wounded, and SirHugh Turpleton and Richard Monmouth were slain. Mortimer was carried toLondon, and was tried and condemned by parliament, and executed forfelony and treason. Several of his followers were executed, and otherswere attacked in their strongholds and killed; among these was SirRoland Somers.
"Queen Isabella was confined in Castle Risings, where she still remainsa prisoner. Such, Walter, were the troubles which occurred when KingEdward first took up the reins of power in this realm; and now, let's tosupper, for I can tell you that my walk to Kingston has given me amarvelous appetite. We have three or four hours' work yet before we goto bed, for that Milan harness was promised for the morrow, and therepairs are too delicate for me to intrust it to the men. It is good toassist the law, but this work of attending as a witness makes agrievous break in the time of a busy man. It is a pity, Walter, thatyour mind is so set on soldiering, for you would have made a marvelousgood craftsman. However, I reckon that after you have seen a few yearsof fighting in France, and have got some of your wild blood let out, youwill be glad enough to settle down here with me; as you know, ourprofits are good and work plentiful; and did I choose I might hold minehead higher than I do among the citizens; and you, if you join me, maywell aspire to a place in the common council, ay, and even to analderman's gown, in which case I may yet be addressing you as the veryworshipful my lord mayor."
"Pooh!" Walter laughed; "a fig for your lord mayors! I would a thousandtimes rather be a simple squire in the following of our young prince."