CHAPTER XVI
WHAT CAME OF AN OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP
One thing had puzzled Francis upon her first arrival at the court. Thatwas the number of those who had red hair. She soon came to know, however,that most of the ladies wore wigs of false hair over their own tressesout of compliment to the queen. The demand for hair was therefore great,and frequently the supply was not equal to it. Divers means were employedto obtain such locks, as the girl soon found to her sorrow.
"Where art thou from, my pretty page?" asked a lady one day pausingbefore her.
"Hampshire, an it please your ladyship," answered Francis grateful forthe attention. She thought the lady must have recently arrived else shewould not stop to bandy words with one who was without the pale of thequeen's good will.
"Hampshire? Ah, yes! I passed through the shire once with Her Majesty onone of her progresses," remarked she. "My lad, know you that you are apretty boy? But certes! of course you do. Nathless, hear it again fromme."
"I thank your ladyship," returned Francis with blushing cheeks. "'Tisonly your kindness that bids you so to speak."
"Hear the boy!" laughed the lady, shaking her finger archly. "Nay; Ishall not give thee more compliments, but I would have thee know that Iam thy friend. I am aware that the queen regards thee with disfavor, andI would aid thee. If thou carest to know more come to the Round Towerwhich is the dormitory of the maids of honor this night. There is mybower. I am the Lady Priscilla Rutland. Know you the place?"
"Yes, my lady; but why, why?----" began Francis, but the lady interruptedher.
"Fie, fie, naughty boy! art thou so curious? Ask no more until to-night."With a quizzical look she went on her way leaving the girl staring afterher.
"What said the Lady Priscilla to thee?" demanded Edward Devereaux drawingnear. "Beware of her, Francis Stafford. She is full of wiles and deceit.'Tis unseemly to speak ill of a woman, but I would fain warn thee. WhenMistress Priscilla is most gracious she is bent on mischief. Therefore doI bid thee to beware of her."
"Am I so rich in friends that I can cast from me one who proffers amity?"inquired the girl bitterly. "Who art thou, Master Devereaux, that thousayst do this, or do that, and expect me to obey? Thou art mine foe, theson of my father's foe. What hast thou to do with me?"
"The son of thy father's foe, 'tis true," answered Devereaux, "but notthine, Francis. I make no war on women though I did unwittingly strikethee once. I repent me that ever I claimed to have slain that deer. Yethear me, mistress. Had the foresters not come as they did, I would havegiven thee the horns. I came to thy father's castle to offer them tothee, but dost thou remember how didst greet me with scorn? And I,thinking thee to be thy brother, did answer in like manner."
"Thou hast been long in the telling, master," remarked the girlscornfully. "Dost expect me to believe thee?"
"Upon mine honor it is the truth. But to the matter in hand. Believe me,'tis for thy good to have naught to do with the Lady Priscilla Rutland. Ihave been longer at the court than thou and therefore know of that ofwhich I speak."
"I am tired of thy watching and prating," declared Francis with spirit."I am no child to be chidden. Leave me, and know that Francis Staffordwill do as seemeth best to her."
"As you will, mistress. But if you come to grief blame me not," and thelad walked away.
"I hate him," ejaculated the girl, her eyes filling with angry tears. "Ihate him with his trite speeches and his sage advice! Why doth he notleave me in peace? I will go to the Lady Priscilla were it only to showhim that I regard not his words."
Nevertheless she could not but wonder why any lady should take such asudden interest in her, and a slight misgiving lurked in her heart as sheapproached the Round Tower, entered its portals, and made her way to theLady Priscilla's bower.
The lady was lying on a couch surrounded by her tire women.
"So, my pretty lad," she said with a careless glance, "thou hast come.Didst thou not have enough of flattery? Gramercy! hath it not always beentrue that sugar would catch more flies than vinegar?"
"What mean you?" stammered Francis, her sensitive nature becoming awareof the change in the lady's manner from the caressing sweetness of themorning to the mocking air of the moment.
"Didst think thy beauty had ensnared me?" queried the lady quizzically."It hath. As the yellow metal of the earth hath always thrown a spellover men so the red gold of thy hair hath fascinated me. I dote on thylocks, my fair page. Ay! so much so that they and I shall ne'er be partedmore. Celeste! Annabelle! have at him!"
"Why, why," cried the girl, struggling to rise as the maids set upon her."My lady! My lady!"
But strong as her outdoor life had made her, she was no match for thedamsels of the Lady Priscilla. Soon she lay back in her chair bound handand foot.
"No harm is meant thee, master page," remarked the lady as, armed with ahuge pair of shears, she approached the maiden. "'Tis only that thysilken tresses have tangled my heart in their meshes until sleep hathfled my pillow. I think on their lustre day and night. And so do I takethem to adorn mine own pate. Thinkest thou that they could cover a fairerhead?"
"Oh, madam," cried the girl tearfully as the shears snipped relentlesslyover her head, for her hair had always been a weak point with her. "O,spare my hair, I entreat!"
"Fie, sir page! Thou dost shame thy manhood. True, thou art yet guiltlessof beard, yet still thou shouldst not play the woman."
"But, madam, I shall report this to the queen. What think you she willsay when she knows that one of her ladies was guilty of this outrage?"
"She would not listen to thee, malapert. Should she do so, I would saythat Priscilla Rutland knew no peace until she could emulate in her ownlocks the regal color that crowned her august mistress' brow. That shewould stoop to do anything could she but faintly follow such beauty. ButI fear not thy disclosure, sirrah. Art thou not in disgrace? Then whatboots it what thou sayst?"
"True;" said Francis and opened her lips no more. Clip, clip, went theshears until at last all of her ringlets lay, a mass of ruddy gold, in agreat heap among the rushes. Francis looked at them, and then at themocking face of the lady, and her heart throbbed with wrath.
"Madam," she said as the Lady Priscilla untied her bonds and she was oncemore free, "I will never forgive this."
"Thou art rude, sirrah," laughed the lady. "But I blame thee not. Bepatient, master page. I will come to thee when thy locks have been woveninto a wig and thou shalt see how well they become me."
"Thou shalt never wear hair of mine," cried Francis, white with anger.Before the lady or her maids could prevent she seized a lamp from one ofthe scones and threw it into the midst of red curls.
"Help! Help!" cried the lady and the maids simultaneously, for the lampwhich was of the simplest manufacture, being a wick fed by oil, set fireinstantly to the curls and surrounding rushes. Scattering to the rightand left the maids called lustily: "Fire! Fire! Seize the boy!"
Staying only long enough to see that there was no probability of savingthe hair, Francis dashed through the arras, and fled through chamberafter chamber trying to find an exit.
"This way," she heard a voice call as, bewildered and confused, shepaused, not knowing which way to turn.
To her amazement, Edward Devereaux stood in a door of a chamber beckoningto her. She gave an exclamation of surprise but, enemy though sheconsidered him, followed him without hesitation. Through a maze of roomsthe boy led the way with the air of one to whom they were familiar; thendown a flight of steps, through an open window and out upon a balconythat overlooked the great garden.
"We will conceal ourselves in the shrubbery," he said vaulting lightlyover the rail into the garden below, followed closely by the girl. Theystopped in the shadow of a clump of close clipped black yews. "Here wecan remain," he said, "until the hue and cry is over. What happened,Francis?"
Francis poured forth her story rapidly.
"I hate this vile court," she cried with a burst of passionate tears asshe concluded. "I w
ant my home! Oh, I want to go home!"
"I blame you not, Francis Stafford," said Edward Devereaux forbearing totaunt her with the fact that had she heeded his words this last miserywould not have come upon her. "You feel as we all feel at times, yet arewe constrained to bide here. Were it in truth to serve the queen, Godbless her, there would be joy in staying. But to be at the beck and callof every noble; to bear the trains of the ladies or dance attendance uponthem is not the life that a youth wishes. I pity thee, Francis, and thyplight is not so bad as it will be should yon tower burn to the ground."
"Oh!" Francis looked up with startled eyes. "I did not think of that. Itwas not my intent to burn the tower. Think you that it is in danger,Edward?"
"Mayhap not," answered the boy regarding the tower with anxious eyes. "Wecan but watch."
The two stood looking at the building in silence. As the moments passedthe lights disappeared from the windows, darkness settled over the tower,and all was quiet. Francis drew a long breath of relief.
"It was unthinking and unheeding in me to throw the light," she said."What if the building had burned? The castle might have followed and thusendangered the life of the queen. Oh, miserable girl that I am! Whatwould my father say to me?"
"Be not so cast down," comforted Edward. "Thou hadst great provocation,and pardon me, mistress, but thy temper is not of the gentlest."
"I know," said Francis with unwonted meekness. "But when I saw my hair,my pretty hair," she paused, her utterance choked, unwilling to give wayto her grief before him.
The boy touched the shorn head compassionately.
"'Twill not be long before it will grow again," he said. "And so long asthou must wear that garb it will be all the better. I have seen manylonging glances cast at thy locks, Francis. 'Tis wonder that such mishaphath not occurred before. If thou dost not wear them, thou hast at leastput it out of their power to grace the head of another. There issomething in that."
"Yes;" said Francis with a flash of spirit. "I would not that harm shouldcome to the palace, yet glad am I that the tresses were consumed. Thouhast been kind to me, Master Devereaux. And yet thou art mine enemy!"
"Better an open enemy than a deceitful friend," quoth Edwardsententiously. "Say no more, Francis Stafford. If I have been of serviceto thee, let it in some measure atone for my churlishness in killing thatdeer. But we must to our several abodes else we shall bring thedispleasure of my lord chamberlain upon us. We shall have enough toanswer to this charge. I fear the issue to-morrow. Come!"
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