Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XII.

  To-day is ours! why do we fear? To-day is ours! we have it here. Let's banish business, banish sorrow; To the gods belongs to-morrow.--Cowley.

  I have dreamed Of bloody turbulence.--Shakspere.

  In profound silence will we pass over Sir Osborne's fartherentertainment at the abbey; as well as how Longpole contrived to makehimself merry, even in the heart of a monastery; together with sundryother circumstances, which might be highly interesting to that classof pains-taking readers who love everything that is particular andorderly, and would fain make an historian not only tell the truth, butthe whole truth, even to the colour of his heroine's garters. For suchcurious points, however, we refer them to the scrupulously exactVonderbrugius, who expends the greater part of the next chapterupon the description of a flea-hunt, which Longpole got up in histruckle-bed in the monastery; and who describes the various hops ofthe minute vampire, together with all that Longpole said on theoccasion, as well as the running down, the taking, and the manner ofthe death, with laudable industry and perseverance. But for the sakeof that foolish multitude who interest themselves in the fate andadventures of the hero, rather than in the minor details, we will passover the whole of the next night much in the same manner as SirOsborne, who, sound asleep, let it fleet by in silence undisturbed.

  His horses, however, were scarcely saddled, and his four attendantsprepared, the next morning, than he was informed that the Lady KatrineBulmer was ready to depart; and proceeding on foot to the great gatesof the abbey, which fronted the high road, on the other side from thaton which he had entered, he found her already mounted on a beautifulSpanish jennet, with her two women and a man, also on horseback. Byher side stood the abbot, with whom she had now made her peace, andwho, kindly welcoming Sir Osborne, led him to the young lady.

  "Sir knight," said he, "I give you a precious charge in this my deadsister's child; and I give her wholly to your charge, with the mostperfect confidence, sure that you will guide her kindly and safely toher journey's end. And now, God bless you and speed you, my child!" hecontinued, turning to the young lady; "and believe me, Kate, there isno one in the wide world more anxious for your happiness than yourpoor uncle."

  "I know it, I know it, dear uncle!" answered the lady; "and though Ibe whimsical and capricious, do not think your Katrine does not loveyou too." A bright drop rose in her eye, and crying "Farewell!farewell!" she made her jennet dart forward, to conceal the emotionshe could not repress.

  The knight sprang on his horse, bade farewell to the abbot, andgalloped after Lady Katrine, who drew in her rein for no one, but rodeon as fast as her steed would go. However, notwithstanding herjennet's speed, Sir Osborne was soon by her side; but seeing a tearupon her cheek, he made no remark, and turning round, held up his handfor the rest to come up, and busied himself in giving orders for thearrangement of their march, directing the two women, with LadyKatrine's man, and Longpole, to keep immediately behind, while thethree attendants given him by the duke concluded the array. The younglady's tears were soon dispersed, and she turned laughing to herwomen, who came up out of breath with the rapidity of their course.

  "Well, Geraldine," she cried, "shall I go on as quick? Should I notmake an excellent knight at a just, Sir Osborne? Oh! I could furnishmy course with the best of you. I mind me to try the very next juststhat are given."

  "Where would you find the man," said Sir Osborne, "to point a lance atso fair a breast, unless it be Cupid's shaft?"

  "Ah, Sir Osborne Maurice!" answered the lady, "you men jest when yousay such things; but you know not sometimes what women feel. But trustme that same Cupid's shaft that you scoff at, because it never woundsyou deeply, sometimes lodges in a woman's breast, and rankling therewill pale her cheek, and drain her heart of every better hope."

  The lady spoke so earnestly that Sir Osborne was surprised, andperhaps looked it; for instantly catching the expression of his eye,Lady Katrine coloured, and then breaking out into one of her own gaylaughs, she answered his glance as if it had been expressed in speech,"You are mistaken! quite mistaken!" said she, "I never thought ofmyself. Nay, my knight, do not look incredulous; my heart is too lighta one to be so touched. It skims like a swallow o'er the surface ofall it sees, and the boy archer spends his shafts in vain; its swiftflight mocks his slow aim. But to convince you, when I spoke," sheproceeded in a lower voice, "I alluded to that poor girl, Geraldine,who rides behind. Her lover was a soldier, who, when Tournay wasdelivered to the French, was left without employment; and after havingwon the simple wench's heart, and promised her a world of fine things,he went as an adventurer to Flanders, vowing that he would get somescribe to write to her of his welfare, and that as soon as he had madesufficient, what with pay and booty they would be married; buteighteen months have gone, and never a word."

  "What was his name?" asked the knight; "I would wish much to hear."

  "Hal Williamson, I think she calls him," said the lady: "but itmatters little; the poor girl has nigh broke her heart for theunfaithful traitor."

  "You do him wrong," said the knight; "indeed, lady, you do him wrong.The poor fellow you speak of joined himself to my company at Lisle,and died in the very last skirmish before the death of the lateemperor. With some money and arms, that I expect transmitted by thefirst Flemish ship, there is also a packet, I fancy, for your maid,for I forget the address. From it she will learn that he was notfaithless to her, together with the worse news of his death."

  "Better! a thousand times better!" cried Lady Katrine, energetically."If I had a lover, I would a thousand times rather know that he wasdead, than that he was unfaithful. For the first, I could but weep allmy life, and mourn him with the mourning of the heart; but for thelast, there would be still bitterer drops in the cup of my sorrow. Iwould mourn him as dead to me. I would mourn him as dead to honour;and I should reproach myself for having believed a traitor, almost asmuch as for being one."

  "So!" said the knight, with a smile, "this is the heart that defiesCupid's shaft: that is too light and volatile to be hit by hispurblind aim!"

  "Now you are stupid!" said she, pettishly. "Now you are just what Ialways fancied a man in armour. Why, I should have thought, that whileyour custrel carries your steel cap, you might have comprehendedbetter, and seen that the very reason why my heart is so giddy and solight is because it is resolved not to be so wounded by the shaft itfears."

  "Then it does fear?" said Sir Osborne.

  "Pshaw!" cried Lady Katrine. "Geraldine, come up, and deliver me fromhim: he is worse than the Rochester rioters."

  In such light talk passed they their journey, Sir Osborne Mauricesometimes pleased, sometimes vexed with his gay companion, but uponthe whole, amused, and in some degree dazzled. For her part, whatevermight be her more serious feelings, the lady found the knight quitehandsome and agreeable enough to be worthy a little coquetry. Perhapsit might be nothing but those little flirting airs by which many afair lady thinks herself fully justified in exciting attention, withthat sort of thirst for admiration which is not content unless it becontinually fresh and active. Now, with her glove drawn off her fairgraceful hand, she would push back the thick curls from her face; nowadjust the long folds of her riding-dress; now pat the glossy neck ofher pampered jennet, which, bending down its head and shaking the bit,would seem proud of her caresses; and then she would smile, and askSir Osborne if he did not think a horse the most beautiful creature innature.

  At length they approached the little town of Sittenbourne, famous eventhen for a good inn, where, had the party not been plagued with thatunromantic thing called hunger, they must have stopped to refreshtheir horses, amongst which the one that carried the baggage of LadyKatrine, being heavily laden, required at least two hours' repose.

  The inn was built by the side of the road, though sunk two orthree feet below it, with a row of eight old elms shadowing itsrespectable-looking front, which, with its small windows and red brickcomplexion, resembled a good deal the
face of a well-doing citizen,with his minute dark eyes half swallowed up by his rosy cheeks. Fromits position, the steps by which entrance was obtained, so far fromascending, according to modern usage, descended into a little passage,from which a door swinging by means of a pulley, a string, and a largestone, conducted into the inn parlour.

  Here, when Lady Katrine had entered, while the knight gave orders forpreparing a noon meal in some degree suitable to the lady's rank, sheamused herself in examining all the quaint carving of the old oakpanelling; and having studied every rose in the borders, and everyhead upon the corbels, she dropped into a chair, crying out--"Oh dear!oh dear! what shall I do in the mean while? Bridget, girl, bring me mybroidery out of the horse-basket. I feel industrious; but make haste,for fear the fit should leave me."

  "Bless your ladyship!" replied the servant, "the broidery is at thebottom of all the things in the pannier. It will take an hour or moreto get at it; that it will."

  "Then give me what is at the top, whatever it is," said the lady;"quick! quick! quick! or I shall be asleep."

  Bridget ran out, according to her lady's command, and returned in amoment with a cithern or mandolin, which was a favourite instrumentamong the ladies of the day, and placing it in Lady Katrine's hand,she cried, "Oh, dear lady, do sing that song about the knight and thedamsel!"

  "No, I won't," answered her mistress; "it will make the man in armouryawn. Sir knight," she continued, holding up the instrument, "do youknow what that is?"

  "It seems to me no very great problem," replied Sir Osborne, turningfrom some orders he was giving to Longpole; "it is a cithern, is itnot?"

  "He would fain have said, 'A thing that some fools play upon, andother fools listen to,'" cried Lady Katrine: "make no excuse, SirOsborne; I saw it in your face. I'm sure you meant it."

  "Nay, indeed, fair lady," replied the knight, "it is an instrumentmuch used at the court of Burgundy, where my days have lately beenspent. We were wont to hold it as a shame not to play on someinstrument, and I know not a sweeter aid to the voice than thecithern."

  "Oh, then you play and sing! I am sure you do," cried the giddy girl."Sir Osborne Maurice, good knight and true, come into court, pull offyour gauntlets, and sing me a song."

  "I will truly," answered the knight, "after I have heard yourladyship, though I am but a poor singer.'"

  "Well, well!" cried Lady Katrine, "I'll lead the way; and if you are atrue knight, you will follow."

  So saying, she ran her fingers lightly over the strings, and sang.

  LADY KATRINE'S SONG.

  Quick, quick, ye lazy hours, Plume your laggard wings; Sure the path is strew'd with flowers That love to true love brings. From morning bright, To fading light, Speed, oh, speed, your drowsy flight!

  If Venus' courier be a dove, As ancient poet sings, Oh! why not give to absent love At least the swallow's wings, To speed his way, The live-long day, Till meeting all his pain repay?

  Thus sang Lady Katrine; and it may well be supposed that the music,the words, and the execution, all met with their full share of praise,although Bridget declared that she liked better the song about theknight and the damsel.

  "Now, your promise, your promise, sir knight!" cried the lady, puttingthe instrument in Sir Osborne's hands; "keep your promise as a trueand loyal knight."

  "That I will do, to my best power," said Sir Osborne, "though my voicewill be but rough after the sweet sounds we have just heard: however,to please Mistress Bridget here, my song shall be of a knight and adamsel, though it be somewhat a long one."

  THE KNIGHT'S SONG.

  The night was dark, and the way was lone, But a knight was riding there; And on his breast the red-cross shone, Though his helmet's haughty crest upon Was a lock of a lady's hair.

  His beaver was up, and his cheek was pale His beard was of auburn brown; And as night was his suit of darksome mail, And his eye was as keen as the wintry gale, And as cold was his wintry frown.

  Oh! sad were the tidings thy brow to shade, Sad to hear and sad to tell; That thy love was false to the vows she had made, That her truth was gone, and thy trust betray'd By her thou lovest so well.

  Now fast, good knight, on thy coal-black steed, That knows his lord's command, For the hour is coming with fearful speed When her soul the lady shall stain with the deed, And give to another her hand.

  In the chapel of yon proud towers 'tis bright, 'Tis bright at the altar there; For around in the blaze of the tapers' light Stand many a glittering, courtly knight, And many a lady fair.

  But why are there tears in the bride's bright eyes? And why does the bridegroom frown? And why to the priest are there no replies? For the bitter drops, and the struggling sighs, The lady's voice have drown'd.

  That clang! that clang of an armed heel! And what stately form is here? His warlike limbs are clothed in steel, And back the carpet heroes reel, And the ladies shrink for fear.

  And he caught the bride in his mailed arms, And he raised his beaver high; "Oh! thy tears, dear girl, are full of charms, But hush thy bosom's vain alarms, For thy own true knight is nigh!"

  And he pull'd the gauntlet from his hand, While he frown'd on the crowd around, And he cast it down, and drew his brand, "Now any who dare my right withstand, Let him raise it from the ground."

  But the knights drew back in fear and dread, And the bride clung to his side; And her father, lowly bending, said, In the Holy Land they had deem'd him dead, But by none was his right denied.

  "Then now read on, sir priest," he cried, "For this is my wedding-day; Here stands my train on either side, And here is a willing and lovely bride, And none shall say me nay.

  "For I'll make her the lady of goodly lands, And of many a princely tower; And of dames a train, and of squires a band, Shall wait at their lady's high command, In the Knight of de Morton's bower."

  "Alack! alack!" cried Lady Katrine, as Sir Osborne concluded, "you arenot a knight, but a nightingale. Well, never did I hear a man inarmour chirrup so before! Nay, what a court must be that court ofBurgundy! Why, an aviary would be nothing to it! But if the mastersings so well," she continued, as Longpole entered, bearing in SirOsborne's casque and shield, "the man must sing too. Bid him sing,fair knight, bid him sing; he will not refuse to pleasure a lady."

  "Oh, no! I am always ready to pleasure a lady," answered Longpole;who, as he went along, though he had found it impossible to helpmaking a little love to Mistress Geraldine, had, notwithstanding,noted with all his own shrewd wit the little coquettish ways of hermistress. "But give me no instrument, my lady, but my own whistle; formine must not be pryck-song, but plain song."

  THE CUSTREL'S SONG.

  Young Harry went out to look for a wife, Hey, Harry Dally! He said he would have her in virtues rife, As soft as a pillow, yet keen as a knife, With a hey ho, Harry!

  The first that he met with was quiet and glum, Hey, Harry Dally! But she'd got a bad trick of sucking her thumb, And when he cried "Mary!" the never would come, With a hey ho, Harry!

  The next that he came to was flighty and gay, Hey, Harry Dally! But she would not be play'd with, although she would play, And good-humour was lost if she'd not her own way, With a hey ho, Harry!

  The next that he tried then was gentle and sweet, Hey, Harry Dally! But he found that all people alike she would treat, And loved him as well as the next she should meet, With a hey ho, Harry!

  Th
e next that he thought of was saucy and bold, Hey, Harry Dally! But he found that he had not the patience sevenfold That could bear in one person a jade and a scold, With a hey ho, Harry!

  So, weary with searching for wedlock enow, Hey, Harry Dally! He thank'd his good stars he had made no rash vow, And, like the old woman, went kissing his cow, With a hey ho, Harry!

  "The saucy knave!" cried Lady Katrine, laughing. "Out upon him!Bridget, Geraldine, if ye have the spirit of women, I am sure ye willnot exchange a word with the fellow the rest of the journey? What!could he not make his hero find one perfect woman? But here comes ourhost with dinner, for which I thank heaven! for had it been later, myindignation would have cost me my appetite."

  As soon as the horses were refreshed, Sir Osborne, with his faircharge, once more set out on the longer stage, which he proposed totake ere they paused for the night. The news which he had received atSittenbourne leading him to imagine that the tumults at Rochester,having been suffered, by some inexplicable negligence, to remainunrepressed, had become much more serious than he at first supposed,he determined to take a by-way, and, avoiding the town, pass the riverby a ferry, which Longpole assured him he would find higher up; butstill this was longer, and would make them later on the road; forwhich reason he hurried their pace as much as possible, till theyarrived at the spot where the smaller road turned off, at about twomiles' distance from Rochester.

  It was a shady lane, with, on each side, high banks and hedges,wherein the tender hand of April was beginning to bring forth theyoung green shrubs and flowers; and as the knight and lady went along,Nature offered them a thousand objects of descant which they did notfail to use. Their conversation, however, was interrupted after awhile by the noise of a distant drum, and a variety of shouts andhalloos came floating upon the gale, like the breakings-forth of anexcited multitude.

  As they advanced, the sounds seemed also to approach.

  "My casque and lance," said Sir Osborne, turning to Longpole. "Lady,you had perhaps better let your jennet drop back to a line with yourwomen."

  "Nay, I will dare the front," said Lady Katrine; "a woman's presencewill often tame a crowd."

  "You are with a band of soldiers," said Sir Osborne, hearing theclamour approaching, "and must obey command. What! horse; back, back!"and laying his hand on the lady's bridle, he reined it back to a linewith her women. "Longpole, advance!" cried the knight. "Left-handspear of the third line to the front! Archers behind, keep a wary eyeon the banks: shoot not, but bend your bows. I trust there is nodanger, lady, but 'tis well to be prepared. Now, on slowly."

  And thus opposing what defence they could between Lady Katrine and themultitude, whose cries they now heard coming nearer and nearer, SirOsborne and the two horsemen he had called to his side, moved forward,keeping a wary eye on the turnings of the road and the high banks bywhich it was overhung.

  They had not proceeded far, however, before they descried thetermination of the lane, opening out upon what appeared to be avillage-green beyond; the farther side of which was occupied by amotley multitude, whose form and demeanour they had now fullopportunity to observe.

  In front of all the host was a sort of extempore drummer, who with abunch of cocks' feathers in his cap, and a broad buff belt supportinghis instrument of discord, seemed infinitely proud of his occupation,and kept beating with unceasing assiduity, but with as little regardto time on his part as his instrument had to tune. Behind him, mountedon a horse of inconceivable ruggedness, appeared the general with, avast cutlass in his hand, which he swayed backwards and forwards inmenacing attitudes; while, unheedful of the drum, he bawled forth tohis followers many a pious exhortation to persevere in rebellion. Onthe left of this doughty hero was borne a flag of blue silk, bearing,inscribed in golden letters, _The United Shipwrights_; and on hisright was seen a red banner, on which might be read the variousdemands of the unsatisfied crowd, such as, "Cheap Bread," "HighWages," "No Taxation," &c.

  The multitude itself did indeed offer a formidable appearance, thegreater part of the men who composed it being armed with bills andaxes; some also having possessed themselves of halberts, and even someof hackbuts and hand-guns. Every here and there appeared an iron jack,and many a 'prentice-boy filled up the crevices with his bended bow;while half a score of loud-mouthed women screamed in the differentquarters of the crowd, and, with the shrill trumpet of a scoldingtongue, urged on the lords of the creation to deeds of wrath andfolly.

  The multitude might consist of about five thousand men: and as theymarched along, a bustle, and appearance of crowding round oneparticular spot in their line, led the knight to imagine that theywere conducting some prisoner to Rochester, in which direction theyseemed to be going, traversing the green at nearly a right angle withthe line in which he was himself proceeding. "Hold!" said Sir Osborne,reining in his horse. "Let them pass by. We are not enough to dealwith such numbers as there are there. Keep under the bank; we must notrisk the lady's safety by showing ourselves. Ah! but what should thatmovement mean? They have seen us, by heaven! Ride on then; we must notseem to shun them. See! they wheel! On, on! quick! Gain the mouth ofthe lane!"

  Thus saying, Sir Osborne laid his lance in the rest, and spurred on tothe spot where the road opened upon the green, followed by LadyKatrine and her women, not a little terrified and agitated by theroaring of the multitude, who, having now made a retrograde motion ontheir former position, occupied the same ground that they had done atfirst, and regarded intently the motions of Sir Osborne's party, notknowing what force might be behind.

  As soon as the knight had reached the mouth of the road he halted, andseeing that the high bank ran along the side of the green guarding hisflank, he still contrived to conceal the smallness of his numbers byoccupying the space of the road, and paused a moment to watch themovements of the crowd, and determine its intentions.

  Now, being quite near enough to hear great part of an oration whichthe general whom we have described was bestowing on his forces, SirOsborne strained his ear to gather his designs, and soon found thathis party was mistaken for that of Lord Thomas Howard, who had beensent to quell the mutiny of the Rochester shipwrights.

  "First," said the ringleader, "hang up the priest upon that tree, thenlet him preach to us about submission if he will; and he shall behanged, too, in his lord's sight, for saying that he, with hishundreds, would beat us with our thousands, and let his lord deliverhim if he can. Then some of the men with bills and axes get up on thetop of the bank: who says it is not Lord Thomas? I say it is LordThomas; I know him by his bright armour."

  "And I say you lie, Timothy Bradford!" cried Longpole, at the verypitch of his voice, much to the wonder and astonishment of Sir Osborneand his party. "Please your worship," he continued, lowering his tone,"I know that fellow; he served with me at Tournay, and was afterwardsa sailor. He's a mad rogue, but as good a heart as ever lived."

  "Oh, then, for God's sake! speak to him," cried Lady Katrine frombehind, "and make him let us pass; for surely, sir knight, you are notmad enough, with only six men, to think of encountering six thousand?"

  "Not I, in truth, fair lady," answered the knight. "If they will notmolest us, I shall not meddle with them."

  "Shall I on, then, and speak with him?" cried Longpole. "See! he heardme give him the lie, and he's coming out towards us. He'd do the sameif we were a thousand."

  "Meet him, meet him, then!" said the knight; "tell him all we wish isto pass peaceably. The right-hand man advance from the rear and fillup!" he continued, as Longpole rode on, taking care still to maintaina good face to the enemy, more especially as their generalissimo hadnow come within half a bow-shot of where they stood.

  As the yeoman now rode forward, the ringleader of the rioters did notat all recognise his old companion in his custrel's armour, and beganto brandish his weapon most fiercely; but in a moment afterwards, tothe astonishm
ent of the multitude, he was seen to let the point of thesword drop, and, seizing his antagonist's hand, shake it with everydemonstration of surprise and friendship. Their conversation was quickand energetic; and a moment after, Longpole rode back to Sir Osborne,while the ringleader raised his hand to his people, exclaiming, "Keepyour ranks! Friends! These are friends!"

  "Our passage is safe," said Longpole, riding back; "but he would fainspeak with your worship. They have taken a priest, it seems, and aregoing to hang him for preaching submission to them. So I told him ifthey did they would be hanged themselves; but he would not listen tome, saying he would talk to you about it."

  "Fill up my place," said the knight; "I will go and see what can bedone. We must not let them injure the good man."

  So saying he raised his lance, and rode forward to the spot where theringleader waited him; plainly discerning, as he approached nearer tothe body of the rioters, the poor priest, with a rope round his neck,holding forth his hands towards him, as if praying for assistance.

  "My shield-bearer," said he, "tells me that we are to pass each otherwithout enmity; for though we are well prepared to resist attack, wehave no commission to meddle with you or yours. Nevertheless, as Iunderstand that ye have a priest in your hands, towards whom yemeditate some harm, let me warn you of the consequences of injuring anold man who cannot have injured you."

  "But he has done worse than injured me, sir knight," said theringleader; "he has preached against our cause, and against redressingour grievances."

  "Most probably not against redressing your grievances," said SirOsborne, "but against the method ye took to redress them yourselves.But listen to me. It is probable that the king, hearing of your wantsand wishes, he being known both for just and merciful, may grant yousuch relief as only a king can grant; but if ye go to stain yourselveswith the blood of this priest, which were cowardly, as he is an oldman; which were base, as he is a prisoner; and which weresacrilegious, as he is a man of God, ye cut yourselves off from mercyfor ever, and range all good men amongst your enemies. Think well ofthis!"

  "By the nose of the tinker of Ashford!" said the man, "your worship isright. But how the devil to get him out of their hands? that's thejob; however, I'll make 'em a 'ration. But what I was wanting to askyour worship is, do you know his grace the king?"

  "Not in the least," was the laconic reply of the knight.

  "Then it won't do," said the man; "only, as merry Dick Heartley saidyou were thick with the good Duke of Buckingham, I thought you mightknow the king too, and would give him our petition and remonstrance.However, I'll go and make them fellows a 'ration: they're wonderfulsoon led by a 'ration." And turning his horse, he rode up to the frontof the body of rioters, and made them a speech, wherein nonsense andsense, bombast and vulgarity, were all most intimately mingled. SirOsborne did not catch the whole, but the sounds which reached his earswere somewhat to the following effect:

  "Most noble shipwrights and devout cannon-founders, joined together inthe great cause of crying down taxation and raising your wages! To youI speak, as well as to the tinkers, tailors, and 'prentices who haveunited themselves to you. The noble knight that you see standingthere, or rather riding, because he is on horseback: he in theglittering armour, with a long spear in his hand, is the dearlybeloved friend of the great and good Duke of Buckingham, who is thefriend of the commons and an enemy to taxation."

  Here loud cries of "Long live the Duke of Buckingham!" "God bless theduke!" interrupted the speaker; but after a moment he proceeded. "He,the noble knight, is not Lord Thomas Howard; and so far from wishingto attack you, he would wish to do you good. Therefore he settethforth and showeth--praise be to God for all things, especially that wedid not hang the priest!--that if we were to hang the priest, it wouldbe blasphemous, because he is an old man; and rascally, because he isa man of God; and moreover, that whereas, if we do not, the king willgrant us our petition. He will infallibly come down, if we do, with anarmy of fifty thousand men, and hang us all with his own hands, andthe Duke of Buckingham will be against us. Now understand! I amnot speaking for myself, for I know well enough that, having beenelected your captain, and ridden on horseback while ye marched onfoot, I am sure to be hanged anyhow; but that is no reason that yeshould all be hanged too; and, therefore, I give my vote that Simonthe cannon-founder, Tom the shipwright, and long-chinned Billy thetinker, do take the priest by the rope that is round his neck, anddeliver him into the hands of the knight and his men, to do with asthey shall think fit. And that after this glorious achievement wemarch straightway back to Rochester. Do you all agree?"

  Loud shouts proclaimed the assent of the multitude; and with variousformalities the three deputies led forth the unhappy priest, more deadthan alive, and delivered him into the hands of Longpole: after whichthe generalissimo of the rioters drew up his men with some militaryskill upon the right of the green, leaving the road free to SirOsborne. The knight then marshalled his little party as best he might,to guard against any sudden change in the minds of the ficklemultitude; and having mounted the poor exhausted priest behind one ofthe horsemen, he drew out from the lane, and passed unmolested acrossthe green into the opposite road, returning nothing but silence to thecheers with which the rioters thought fit to honour them.

  Their farther journey to Gravesend passed without any interruption,and indeed without any occurrence worthy of notice. Lady Katrine andSir Osborne, Geraldine and Longpole, mutually congratulated each otheron the favourable termination of an adventure which had commencedunder such threatening auspices; and every one of the party pouredforth upon his neighbour the usual quantity of wonder and amazementwhich always follows any event of the kind. The poor priest, who hadso nearly fallen a victim to the excited passions of the crowd, wasthe last that sufficiently recovered from the strong impressions ofthe moment to babble thereupon.

  When, however, his loquacious faculties were once brought into play,he contrived to compensate for his temporary taciturnity, shoutingforth his thanks to Sir Osborne Maurice from the rear to the front,declaring that the preservation of his life was entirely owing to hisvalour and conduct; that it was wonderful the influence which his soleword possessed with the multitude, and that he should never cease tobe grateful till the end of his worldly existence.

  Sir Osborne assured him that he was very welcome; and remarked, with asmile, to Lady Katrine, who was laughing at the priest's superfluityof gratitude, that in all probability it was this sort of exuberanceof zeal that had brought him into the perilous circumstances in whichthey had at first found him.

  "But can zeal ever be exuberant?" demanded Lady Katrine, suddenlychanging her tone; and then fixing the full light of her beautifuldark eyes upon the knight, she added, "I mean in a friend."

  "It can," said Sir Osborne, "when not guided by prudence. But I do notthink a fool can be a friend."

  "Come, sir knight, come!" said the lady; "let us hear your idea of afriend."

  "A friend," replied the knight, smiling at her earnestness, "must beboth a wise man and a good man. He must love his friend withsufficient zeal to see his faults and endeavour to counteract them,and with sufficient prudence to perceive his true interests and tostrive for them. But he must put aside vanity; for there is many a manwho pretends a great friendship for another merely for the vainpurpose of advising and guiding him, when, in truth, he is not capableof advising and guiding himself. The man who aspires to such a namemust be to his friend what every man would be to himself, if he couldsee his own faults undazzled by self-love and his own interestsunblinded by passion. He must be zealous and kind, steady andpersevering, without being curious or interfering, troublesome orobstinate."

  "Would I had such a friend!" said Lady Katrine, with a sigh, and forthe rest of the way she was grave and pensive.