CHAPTER XII
THE FAVOR OF PRINCES
The Bow bells were ringing as Francis and her escort, Lord Shrope, drewnear the city of London three days later. It was sunset and the silverypeal of the bells was clearly borne to them upon the evening breeze.Merrily they rang. Now wild and free; now loud and deep; now slower andmore slow until they seemed to knell the requiem of the day.
"How beautiful!" exclaimed Francis involuntarily drawing rein. "Pause, Ipray you, my lord. Do they always ring so?"
"Ay, child. Ever since and long before they sounded so musically in DickWhittington's ears: 'Turn again, turn again, thrice lord mayor ofLondon'! What think you they say? Do they bear a message to your ears?"
The girl listened intently.
"Methinks they say, 'Come not to London, Francis! Come not to Londontown!' But is there not in truth amidst all their toning some melody orchant?"
"There is, child, but not as thou hast so fancifully thought a warning tothee. How melodious is their chime! Think the rather on that than onaught else."
"Yes, my lord; and how wonderful is the city! Marry! whatever betides Ishall have seen London!"
She sat erect as she spoke, and drank in the scene with appreciativeeyes. Lord Shrope looked at Britain's metropolis with pride.
The last rays of the setting sun fell lingeringly upon the great city.For great it was though it numbered but one and thirty thousandinhabitants at this time. Paris alone excelled it in numbers. London, asthe representative of England in her supremacy of the seas, herintellectual grandeur, and above all as the friend of those who dared tooppose the power of Rome, London stood in the eyes of all men as thegreatest city of the world.
The towers and turrets that gleamed above the strong walls thatencircled the city; the sure gates that gave entrance thereto; theprincely palaces with their large gardens, rich porches and statelygalleries; the open fields that came up close to the walls; the distanthills of Essex, Middlesex, Surrey and Kent covered thickly with woods;the silvery Thames, the silent highway of the Londoners, its bosomcovered by a forest of masts and spanned by the great bridge,--even thenold,--with its gateways, towers, drawbridges, houses, mills, chapel andwharfs; all these went to make a picture that thrilled every Englishheart.
The girl looked first this way and then that as though she could neverdrink her fill.
"My lord," she cried, "prithee tell me which of all those turrets is theTower?"
"To the east, child. The white tower that rises so majestically from thesurrounding turrets. Therein is written the whole history of England.That is the lofty citadel which it is said the great Julius himselfraised. And yonder lies Saint Paul's. That sombre and dungeon likestronghold is Baynard's castle. To our left is Westminster, and yonbeautiful palace is Whitehall. It is known of all men how it reverted tothe crown at the fall of Wolsey. The queen's father adorned it in itspresent manner. There stands Somerset house, and yonder is Crosby. On thebankside in Southwark are the theatres and Paris gardens where are thebear pits. Look about thee, Francis. On every building, almost on everystone is writ the history of our forbears. On all those walls are tracesof Roman, Briton, Anglo-Saxon and Norman. History in stone. What sermonsthey might preach to us had they but tongues!"
"It is beautiful!" said Francis again.
"The bells have ceased their chiming," said Lord Shrope. "I would notbreak into thy enjoyment, child, but we must hasten. Before the darknessfalls we must enter Greenwich where Elizabeth is."
With a deep drawn sigh, Francis gave one more look about her and thenthey passed into the city.
Within the immediate vicinity of the walls there were many gardens andopen spaces. The houses with their fanciful gables and vanes, and talltwisted chimneys invited and enchained the eye. The streets were narrow,and alleys, courts and by-paths abounded in every direction. While theywere at a distance they had heard only the subdued noises of the city,above which the bells sounded clearly. But now as they passed through thestreets their ears were assailed by the cries of the pent-house keepers,or the noises of the apprentices as they set upon some offendingpedestrian. The din was almost indescribable. And yet in the midst of theconfusion there was music. From every barber shop came the twang ofcittern or guitar, while song burst from the lips of every tankardbearer.
All these, with other wonders, Francis encountered as they wended theirway through alleys and byways until presently they came to London Stone.
"Now here will I dismount," cried Francis pleased and excited by all thatshe had seen and heard.
"But why, child? We have not yet reached the wharf where we take thewherry for Greenwich. Why should you pause here?"
"Because," cried the girl with a laugh, "if I cannot take possession ofthe city, I can at least emulate that arch traitor, Jack Cade, and strikemy staff upon this stone." So saying she struck the ancient stone a sharpblow with her whip.
"Beshrew me, girl!" cried the nobleman laughing, "thou shouldst in verytruth have been a boy! Marry! who but a lad would have thought on such athing! But hasten! The last rays of yon setting sun must see us at thepalace."
Francis remounted her palfrey, and without further incident they came tothe wharf. Leaving their horses in the charge of some of the servitors ofLord Shrope they descended the stairs that led through one of thenumerous water gates to the river, and entered one of the wherries thatlay clustered about waiting for fares.
"See the barges," cried the girl as they shot London Bridge and passeddown the river. "How many there are!"
The bosom of the river was covered over with barges, wherries andvessels of every description. Busy as it was fleets of swans were sailingupon its smooth surface, the noise of their gabble mingling agreeablywith the song of the watermen.
"Yes, many;" assented Lord Shrope in answer to the girl's remark, asretinues of barges passed them, filled with many a freight of brave menand beautiful women. "Hearken, how the oarsmen keep time to their oars."
Francis listened with delight as the song of the wherrymen swelled in amighty chorus, for every boatman sang the same thing:
"Heave ho! rumbelow!"
"And the swans," she cried excitedly.
"Yes; 'tis a pleasant sight, and many have wondered that they should stayupon the river when it is so busy, but they are kindly treated and noharm suffered to come to them. Behold the dwellings of the nobles."
Nothing could have been more picturesque at this time than the north bankof the Thames with its broad gardens, lofty trees and embattled turretsand pinnacles of the palaces, each of which had its landing-place andprivate retinue of barges and wherries.
"This is the Tower," said the nobleman as they drew near that grimfortress. A low browed projecting arch, above which was a tower forming astriking part of the stronghold, attracted the girl's attention. Stepsled up from the river to a small ricket in the arch which gave entranceinto the Tower.
"That is the Traitors' Gate," said Lord Shrope. "Through that wicket passall those guilty of treason."
A shudder passed over Francis as she gazed at the forbidding portals.
"Why dost thou shiver?" asked Lord Shrope kindly, as he noticed herinvoluntary tremor.
"Sir," answered Francis, in mournful tones, "I fear that Tower. Somethingseems to whisper me that yon grim walls and I will become betteracquainted."
"Now Heaven forfend!" ejaculated Lord Shrope. "Thy doubts of thyreception at the queen's hands render thee fearful. Take courage, child.All will yet be well. 'Tis not amiss that thou shouldst be doubtful, asthe issue is uncertain. Were you but as the queen thinks, and not inmasquerade, you would fare well at court. For 'tis worthy the ambition ofany young man, be his rank of the highest, or his prospects the mostbrilliant, to become one of the queen's pensioners. For thus doth HerMajesty accomplish divers things: she honoreth those who are such;obligeth their kindred and alliance, and fortifieth herself; for none canbe brought near her person without becoming willing to lay down lifeitself in her behalf."
"I shou
ld not be, were I in truth the boy she thinks me," declaredFrancis.
"Subdue such spirit, girl," rebuked he. "The queen is graciousness itselfto those whom she favors, but frowardness and pertness are not to herliking. In sooth, she tolerates them not in those near her. For thyfather's sake, have a care to thy words. The slight disfavor under whichthou dost labor will soon be overcome, I doubt not, if thou wilt showthyself submissive to her will. But I mean not to chide thee, child, forI know that thy maiden heart cannot but fail thee in this hour. I would,an I could, turn thy mind to more of liking toward the queen else willit be hard for thee to sue to her. Elizabeth is a great ruler. The landhath never before enjoyed so much of peace and prosperity. Even herenemies cannot gainsay this fact. But I fear that I weary thee, and thouart troubled enough."
"Nay, my lord; I know that thou dost speak from the fulness ofexperience, and therefore do thy words carry weight. I am not weary butmy heart doth fail me when I think of the queen and the court. I am but amaiden, my lord, unlearned in the ways of courtiers, and should I fail tofind favor with the queen, who shall stand between me and her will? Whois there who would brave her displeasure to speak one word for me? Marry!not one!"
"Think not on that aspect, girl, an thou wouldst maintain thy spirit. Hewho would achieve his end dwells not on failure. Think on thy father. Forhis sake thou must get the favor of the queen. For his sake so demeanthyself that all that he hath done will be condoned. Mark thee, Francis!There are those who whisper that he is the more inclined to Mary ofScotland than to Elizabeth of England. There lies his danger."
"I thank you, my lord, for your words," said Francis. "Well will I heedthem. Thou hast been to me as a father in the discharge of thy duty,though it must be irksome to thee to be burdened with so troublesome acharge. Nathless, I thank thee for thy words and for thy care."
Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke and she turned her head quicklythat he might not see them.
"Thou art welcome to all that I have done," said Lord Shrope brusquely tohide his feelings for he was filled with pity for the forlorn state ofthe girl. "Troublesome thou hast not been, but full of courage until now.How now? Wilt thou play the girl when thou dost wear that garb? Commandthyself, I pray, for we draw near the palace."
"'Tis true I wear this garb," sobbed Francis, "but yet I am a maiden,with a maiden's fears and a maiden's weakness. Prithee bear with me for amoment until I am myself again."
She gave way to the emotion that overwhelmed her, for she was wearied bythe journey, excited over the new and strange scenes of the past fewdays, and overwrought with her fears. Lord Shrope bent a look ofcompassion upon her, but uttered no word.
The song of the boatmen ceased as they drew near the landing stairs ofthe palace. There were numerous wherries waiting to unload their humanfreight, and this gave Francis time to recover her composure. So soon asshe was calm Lord Shrope motioned to the watermen and they drew up at thestairs which led to the great gate of the palace. Courtyard and terracewere filled with gaily-dressed ladies and nobles. Here a lady attended byher gentlewomen traced her way delicately, a gentleman-usher making wayfor her, her train upheld by a page. Then gallants ruffled along, theirattire vying with that of the ladies for brilliancy and richness. Eachcourtier wore a rose behind his ear, and upon his shoes were roses alsoto hide the strings. Each bore a long sword upon one side and a poniardon the other, and behind him a body of serving men, proportioned to hisestate and quality, all of whom walked with the air of militaryretainers and were armed with swords and bucklers. Laughing, jesting andmaking merry, they seemed not to have a care, though many a satin doubletand silken vest concealed a heart as full of anxiety as that of the girlwho had just come among them.
"Beshrew me, my lord," exclaimed a noble in brave attire as Lord Shropeentered the palace yard with his charge. "Art thou come again? MethoughtI heard that wast sent to France."
"And France is (Francis) here," retorted his lordship, indicating hiscompanion.
"Good! I' faith, very good, if Francis be his name," laughed the other."A proper lad, I trow. The queen hath ever an eye for beauty."
"Where is Her Grace?" questioned Lord Shrope.
"In the presence chamber," was the reply.
"Then let us hie thither," spoke my lord, and Francis hurried after him,confused and embarrassed, as she encountered the curious gaze of thecourtiers and ladies. They passed through the lofty halls andante-chambers of the palace until at length they stood in the longgallery at the upper end of which were the folding doors that gaveentrance to the presence chamber.
"Go not in, my lord," pleaded the usher of the black rod in charge of thedoor. "Something hath gone amiss with Her Highness, and the moment is notfavorable."
"I thank you, Master Usher, but the queen bade me seek her instantly uponmy return," said Lord Shrope. "I needs must go to her now. Come,Francis."
So saying he boldly entered the chamber. It was hung with magnificenttapestries toward which Francis cast not so much as a single glance, sointent was she upon the form which seemed to dominate the room. At oneend of the apartment was a dais upon which the queen sat under a royalcanopy, surrounded by her ministers and some courtiers. They stood aboutwith dismayed countenances for the queen was in a rage. She looked up asthe two entered, and stared for a moment as if seeking to know themeaning of their entrance.
"My liege sovereign," cried Lord Shrope without waiting for the LordChamberlain to announce him, "I have come. Behold here is the lad forwhom you sent me."
"Out of my sight," cried the queen angrily. "'Ods death! is there none tokeep the door that every minion that lists may enter? Out of my sight,and plague me not with a sight of that boy. Away, varlet!"
With crestfallen visage Lord Shrope arose, bowed profoundly and hurriedFrancis out of the chamber.
"I should have heeded thy warning, sir," he said to the usher. "Now Icannot seek the queen until she bids me to her."
"What shall I do?" asked the girl almost in tears. "Whither shall I go?"
"Thou shalt come with me, my child. My lady wife will look to thycomfort. There shalt thou abide until it shall be safe to approachElizabeth. Thy star is not in the ascendant."
"And I have involved thee too in Her Grace's displeasure," said Franciswith contrition.
"Nay; Elizabeth is too just to harbor ill toward me who hath but wroughther pleasure. Though verily the humors of princes like their favors areuncertain. But come!"
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