St. George for England: A Tale of Cressy and Poitiers

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XI.

  A STORMY INTERVIEW.

  Soon after Walter's return from France Dame Vernon returned to hercountry estate, and a year passed before he again saw her. During thistime the truce which had been established between England and France hadremained unbroken. It was certain, however, that ere long the two powerswould again come to blows. The King of England had honorably observedthe terms of the treaty. Upon his return home he had entirely disbandedhis army and had devoted his whole attention to increasing the trade andprosperity of the country. The measures which he took to do this werenot always popular with the people of England, for seeing how greatlythey excelled the English manufacturers Edward encouraged large numbersof Flemings and other foreign workmen to settle in London, and gave themmany privileges to induce them to do so; this the populace stronglyresented. There was a strong ill-feeling against the Flemings andserious popular riots took place, for the English traders and workmenconsidered that these foreigners were taking the bread from theirmouths. The king, however, was wiser than his people, he saw thatalthough the English weavers were able to produce coarse cloths, yetthat all of the finer sort had to be imported from the Continent. Hedeemed that in time the Flemings would teach their art to his subjects,and that England would come to vie with the Low Countries in the qualityof her produce. Such was indeed afterward the case, and England gainedgreatly by the importation of the industrious Flemings, just as sheafterward profited from the expulsion from France of tens of thousandsof Protestant workmen who brought here many of the manufactures of whichFrance had before the monopoly. The relations between England and theFlemings were at this time very close, for the latter regarded Englandas her protector against the ambition of the King of France.

  But while King Edward had laid aside all thought of war, such was notthe case with Philip of Valois. He had retired after the signature ofthe treaty full of rage and humiliation; for hitherto in all theirstruggles his English rival had had the better of him, and againstvastly superior forces had foiled all his efforts and had gained alikeglory and military advantage. King Edward had hardly set sail whenPhilip began to break the terms of truce by inciting the adherents ofCharles of Blois to attack those of De Montford, and by renderingassistance to them with money and men. He also left no means untried todetach Flanders from its alliance with England. Several castles andtowns in Brittany were wrested from the partisans of De Montford, andKing Edward, after many remonstrances at the breaches of the conditionsof the truce, began again to make preparations for taking the field.Several brilliant tournaments were held and every means were taken tostir up the warlike spirit of the people.

  One day Walter had attended his lord to the palace and was waiting inthe anteroom with many other squires and gentlemen, while Sir Walter,with some other noblemen, was closeted with the king, discussing themeans to be adopted for raising funds for a renewal of the war withFrance, when a knight entered whom Walter had not previously seen atcourt.

  "Who is that?" he asked one of his acquaintances; "methinks I know hisface, though it passes my memory to say where I have seen it."

  "He has been away from England for some two years," his friend answered."That is Sir James Carnegie; he is a cousin of the late Sir JasperVernon; he left somewhat suddenly a short time after Dame Vernon hadthat narrow escape from drowning that you wot of; he betook himself thento Spain, where he has been fighting the Moors; he is said to be avaliant knight, but otherwise he bears but an indifferent goodreputation."

  Walter remembered the face now; it was that of the knight he had seenenter the hut of the river pirate on the Lambeth marshes. When releasedfrom duty he at once made his way to the lodging of Dame Vernon. Walterwas now nineteen, for a year had elapsed since the termination of theFrench war, and he was in stature and strength the match of most men,while his skill at knightly exercises, as well as with the sword, wasrecognized as preeminent among all the young esquires of the court.

  After the first greeting he said to Dame Vernon: "I think it right totell you, lady, that I have but now, in the king's anteroom, seen theman who plotted against your life in the hut at Lambeth. His face is amarked one and I could not mistake it. I hear that he is a cousin ofyours, one Sir James Carnegie, as you doubtless recognized from mydescription of him. I came to tell you in order that you might decidewhat my conduct should be. If you wish it so I will keep the secret inmy breast; but if you fear aught from him I will openly accuse himbefore the king of the crime he attempted, and shall be ready to meethim in the ordeal of battle should he claim it."

  "I have seen Sir James," Lady Vernon said. "I had a letter writ in afeigned hand telling him that his handiwork in the plot against my lifewas known, and warning him that, unless he left England, the proofsthereof would be laid before justice. He at once sailed for Spain,whence he has returned but a few days since. He does not know forcertain that I am aware of his plottings against us; but he must haveseen by my reception of him when he called that I no longer regard himwith the friendship which I formerly entertained. I have received amessage from him that he will call upon me this evening, and that hetrusts he will find me alone, as he would fain confer with me on privatematters. When I have learned his intentions I shall be the better ableto judge what course I had best adopt. I would fain, if it may be, letthe matter rest. Sir James has powerful interest, and I would not havehim for an open enemy if I can avoid it; besides, all the talk andpublicity which so grave an accusation against a knight, and he of mineown family, would entail, would be very distasteful to me; but should Ifind it necessary for the sake of my child, I shall not shrink from it.I trust, however, that it will not come to that; but I shall nothesitate, if need be, to let him know that I am acquainted with his evildesigns toward us. I will inform you of as much of our interview as itis necessary that you should know."

  That evening Sir James Carnegie called upon Dame Vernon. "I would notnotice it the other day, fair cousin," he said, in return for her stiffand ceremonious greeting; "but methinks that you are mightily changed inyour bearing toward me. I had looked on my return from my longjourneying for something of the sisterly warmth with which you oncegreeted me, but I find you as cold and hard as if I had been altogethera stranger to you. I would fain know in what way I have forfeited youresteem."

  "I do not wish to enter into bygones, Sir James," the lady said, "andwould fain let the past sleep if you will let me. Let us, then, turnwithout more ado to the private matters concerning which you wished tospeak with me."

  "If such is your mood, fair dame, I must needs fall in with it, thoughin no way able to understand your allusion to the past, wherein myconscience holds me guiltless of aught which could draw upon me yourdisfavor. I am your nearest male relative, and as such would fain conferwith you touching the future of young Mistress Edith, your daughter. Sheis now nigh thirteen years of age, and is the heiress of broad lands; isit not time that she were betrothed to one capable of taking care ofthem for her, and leading your vassals to battle in these troubledtimes?"

  "Thanks, Sir James, for your anxiety about my child," Dame Vernon saidcoldly. "She is a ward of the king. I am in no way anxious that an earlychoice should be made for her; but our good Queen Philippa has promisedthat, when the time shall come, his majesty shall not dispose of herhand without my wishes being in some way consulted; and I have no doubtthat when the time shall come that she is of marriageable age--and Iwould not that this should be before she has gained eighteen years, forI like not the over young marriages which are now in fashion--a knightmay be found for her husband capable of taking care of her and herpossessions; but may I ask if, in so speaking to me, you have any one inyour mind's eye as a suitor for her hand?"

  "Your manner is not encouraging, certes; but I had my plan, which would,I hoped, have met with your approval. I am the young lady's cousin, andher nearest male relative; and although we are within the limiteddegrees, there will be no difficulty in obtaining a dispensation fromRome. I am myself passably well off, and some of the mortgages
which Ihad been forced to lay upon my estates have been cleared off during myabsence. I have returned home with some reputation, and with a goodlysum gained in the wars with the Moors. I am older than my cousin,certainly; but as I am still but thirty-two, this would not, I hope, bedeemed an obstacle, and methought that you would rather intrust her toyour affectionate cousin than to a stranger. The king has received mevery graciously, and would, I trust, offer no opposition to my suit wereit backed by your good-will."

  "I suppose, Sir James," Dame Vernon said, "that I should thank you forthe offer which you have made; but I can only reply, that while dulyconscious of the high honor you have done my daughter by your offer, Iwould rather see her in her grave than wedded to you."

  The knight leaped from his seat with a fierce exclamation. "This is toomuch," he exclaimed, "and I have a right to know why such an offer on mypart should be answered by disdain, and even insolence."

  DAME ALICE REVEALS SIR JAMES' VILLAINY.--Page 187.]

  "You have a right to know," Dame Vernon answered quietly, "and I willtell you. I repeat that I would rather see my child in her grave thanwedded to a man who attempted to compass the murder of her and hermother."

  "What wild words are these?" Sir James asked sternly. "What accusationis this that you dare to bring against me?"

  "I repeat what I said, Sir James," Dame Alice replied quietly. "I knowthat you plotted with the water pirates of Lambeth to upset our boat aswe came down the Thames; that you treacherously delayed us at Richmondin order that we might not reach London before dark; and that byenveloping me in a white cloak you gave a signal by which I might beknown to your creatures."

  The knight stood for a moment astounded. He was aware that the fact thathe had had some share in the outrage was known, and was not surprisedthat his cousin was acquainted with the secret; but that she should knowall the details with which but one besides himself was, as he believed,acquainted, completely stupefied him. He rapidly, however, recoveredhimself.

  "I recall now," he said scornfully, "the evidence which was given beforethe justices by some ragged city boy, to the effect that he hadoverheard a few words of a conversation between some ruffian over in theLambeth marshes and an unknown person; but it is new to me indeed thatthere was any suspicion that I was the person alluded to, still lessthat a lady of my own family, in whose affection I believed, shouldcredit so monstrous an accusation."

  "I would that I could discredit it, Sir James," Dame Vernon said sadly;"but the proofs were too strong for me. Much more of your conversationthan was narrated in court was overheard, and it was at my request thatthe ragged boy, as you call him, kept silence."

  "And is it possible," the knight asked indignantly, "that you believedthe word of a fellow like this to the detriment of your kinsman? Why, inany court of law the word of such a one as opposed to that of a knightand gentleman of honor would not be taken for a moment."

  "You are mistaken, sir," Dame Vernon said haughtily. "You may remember,in the first place, that the lad who overheard this conversation riskedhis life to save me and my daughter from the consequences of the attackwhich he heard planned; in the second place, he was no ragged lad, butthe apprentice of a well-known citizen; thirdly--and this is ofimportance, since he has recognized you since your return, and is ready,should I give him the word, to denounce you--he is no mere apprenticeboy, but is of gentle blood, seeing that he is the son of Sir RolandSomers, the former possessor of the lands which I hold, and that he isin high favor with the good knight Sir Walter Manny, whose esquire henow is, and under whom he distinguished himself in the wars in France,and is, as Sir Walter assures me, certain to win his spurs ere long.Thus you see his bare word would be of equal value to your own, besidesthe fact that his evidence does not rest upon mere assertion; but thatthe man in the hut promised to do what you actually performed, namely,to delay me at Richmond, and to wrap me in a white cloak in order that Imight be recognized by the river pirates."

  Sir James was silent. In truth, as he saw, the evidence wasoverwhelmingly strong against him. After awhile he stammered out, "Icannot deny that I was the man in question; but I swear to you that thisboy was mistaken, and that the scoundrel acted altogether beyond myinstructions, which were simply that he should board the boat and carryyou and your daughter away to a safe place."

  "And with what object, sir," Dame Vernon said contemptuously, "was I tobe thus taken away?"

  "I do not seek to excuse myself," the knight replied calmly, having nowrecovered his self-possession, "for I own I acted wrongly and basely;but in truth I loved you, and would fain have made you my wife. I knewthat you regarded me with only the calm affection of a kinswoman; but Ithought that were you in my power you would consent to purchase yourfreedom with your hand. I know now that I erred greatly. I acknowledgemy fault, and that my conduct was base and unknightly, and my onlyexcuse is the great love I bore you."

  "And which," the lady said sarcastically, "you have now transferred tomy daughter. I congratulate you, Sir James, upon the possession of aready wit and an invention which does not fail you at a pinch, and of atongue which repeats unfalteringly any fable which your mind maydictate. You do not, I suppose, expect me to believe the tale. Still, Iown that it is a well-devised one, and might, at a pinch, pass muster;but fear not, Sir James. As hitherto I have kept silence as to theauthor of the outrage committed upon me, so I have no intention ofproclaiming the truth now unless you force me to do so. Suffice thatboth for myself and for my daughter I disclaim the honor of your hand.So long as you offer no molestation to us, and abstain from troubling usin any way, so long will my mouth be sealed; and I would fain bury in mybreast the memory of your offense. I will not give the world's tongueoccasion to wag by any open breach between kinsfolk, and shall thereforein public salute you as an acquaintance, but under no pretense whateverwill I admit you to any future private interview. Now leave me, sir, andI trust that your future life will show that you deeply regret theoutrage which in your greed for my husband's lands you were tempted tocommit."

  Without a word Sir James turned and left the room, white with shame andanger, but with an inward sense of congratulation at the romance whichhe had, on the spur of the moment, invented, and which would, he feltsure, be accepted by the world as probable, in the event of the share hehad in the matter being made public, either upon the denunciation ofDame Vernon or in any other manner.

  One determination, however, he made, and swore, to himself, that hewould bitterly avenge himself upon the youth whose interference hadthwarted his plans, and whose report to his kinswoman had turned hermind against him. He, at any rate, should be put out of the way at thefirst opportunity, and thus the only witness against himself be removed;for Lady Vernon's own unsupported story would be merely her word againsthis, and could be treated as the malicious fiction of an angry woman.

  The following day Dame Vernon sent for Walter, and informed him exactlywhat had taken place.

  "Between Sir James and me," she said, "there is, you see, a truce. Weare enemies, but we agree to lay aside our arms for the time. But,Walter, you must be on your guard. You know as well as I do howdangerous this man is, and how good a cause he has to hate you. I wouldnot have divulged your name had I not known that the frequency of yourvisits here and the encouragement which I openly give you as the futuresuitor of my daughter, would be sure to come to his ears, and he wouldspeedily discover that it was you who saved our lives on the Thames andgave your testimony before the justices as to the conversation in thehut on the marshes. Thus I forestalled what he would in a few days havelearned."

  "I fear him not, lady," Walter said calmly. "I can hold mine own, Ihope, against him in arms, and having the patronage and friendship ofSir Walter Manny I am above any petty malice. Nevertheless, I will holdmyself on my guard. I will, so far as possible, avoid any snare which hemay, as 'tis not unlikely, set for my life, and will, so far as Ihonorably can, avoid any quarrel with which he may seek to saddle me."

  A few days later Walter again met S
ir James Carnegie in the king'santeroom, and saw at once, by the fixed look of hate with which he hadregarded him, that he had already satisfied himself of his identity. Hereturned the knight's stare with a cold look of contempt. The knightmoved toward him and in a low tone said, "Beware, young sir, I have aheavy reckoning against you, and James Carnegie never forgets debts ofthat kind!"

  "I am warned, Sir James," Walter said calmly, but in the same low tone,"and, believe me, I hold but very lightly the threats of one who doesnot succeed even when he conspires against the lives of women andchildren."

  Sir James started as if he had been struck. Then with a great effort herecovered his composure, and, repeating the word "Beware!" walked acrossto the other side of the chamber.

  The next day Walter went down the river and had a talk with his friendGeoffrey.

  "You must beware, lad," the armorer said when he told him of the returnof Sir James Carnegie and the conversation which had taken place betweenthem. "This man is capable of anything, and careth not where he choosethhis instruments. The man of the hut at Lambeth has never been caughtsince his escape from Richmond Jail--thanks, doubtless, to the gold ofhis employer--and, for aught we know, may still be lurking in themarshes there, or in the purlieus of the city. He will have a grudgeagainst you as well as his employer, and in him Sir James would find aready instrument. He is no doubt connected, as before, with a gang ofwater pirates and robbers, and it is not one sword alone that you wouldhave to encounter. I think not that you are in danger just at present,for he would know that, in case of your murder, the suspicions of DameVernon and of any others who may know the motive which he has in gettingrid of you would be excited, and he might be accused in having had ashare in your death. Still, it would be so hard to prove aught againsthim that he may be ready to run the risk in order to rid himself of you.Look here, Walter. What think you of this?" and the smith drew out froma coffer a shirt of mail of finer work than Walter had ever before seen.

  "Ay, lad, I knew you would be pleased," he said in answer to Walter'sexclamation at the fineness of the workmanship. "I bought this a monthago from a Jew merchant who had recently come from Italy. How he got itI know not, but I doubt if it were honestly, or he would have demanded ahigher price than I paid him. He told me that it was made by the firstarmorer in Milan, and was constructed especially for a cardinal of thechurch, who had made many enemies by his evil deeds and could not sleepfor fear of assassination. At his death it came, the Jew said, into hispossession. I suppose some rascally attendant took it as a perquisite,and, knowing not of its value, sold it for a few ducats to the Jew.However, it is of the finest workmanship. It is, as you see, double, andeach link is made of steel so tough that no dagger or sword point willpierce it. I put it on a block and tried the metal myself, and broke oneof my best daggers on it without a single link giving. Take it, lad. Youare welcome to it. I bought it with a special eye to you, thinking thatyou might wear it under your armor in battle without greatly adding tothe weight; but for such dangers as threaten you now it is invaluable.It is so light and soft that none will dream that you have it under yourdoublet, and I warrant me it will hold you safe against the daggers ofSir James' ruffians."

  Walter did not like taking a gift so valuable, for his apprenticeship asan armorer had taught him the extreme rarity and costliness of so fine apiece of work. Geoffrey, however, would not hear of his refusal, andinsisted on his then and there taking off his doublet and putting it on.It fitted closely to the body, descending just below the hips, andcoming well up on the neck, while the arms extended to the wrists.

  "There!" the smith said with delight. "Now you are safe against sword ordagger, save for a sweeping blow at the head, and that your sword can betrusted to guard. Never take it off, Walter, save when you sleep; andexcept when in your own bed, at Sir Walter Manny's, I should advise youto wear it even at night. The weight is nothing, and it will notincommode you. So long as this caitiff knight lives, your life will notbe safe. When he is dead you may hang up the shirt of mail with a lightheart."