by Knox Magee
CHAPTER XXIII
THE ARREST
Loud and trembling blew the trumpets to arouse the lazy sleepers andwarn them that the second and last day of the grand tournament haddawned. Then, had one but had the heads of AEgeon, and had he been ableto place heads in separate parts of the field, among the tents ofknights and squires, his numerous ears had heard low-muttered cursesissue from each tent, as the inmates awakened, protested, turned to theother side, shrugged up their each particular pair of shoulders andagain sank into sleep.
Another hour passed, and again rang out the trumpets, with theirunwelcome sound. This time they must not be denied, as the sun waswell started on his circling journey.
Michael was busy superintending the preparing of our morning meal.
Harleston, as ever, did not rise until the last moment; and then hehurriedly arose and joined me at breakfast.
"Well, Michael," said Frederick, "whom dost thou think it was lastnight, that thou didst handle so roughly? Thinkst thou that it wasCatesby?"
"Sure, sor, Oi know not fer a surety, but methinks it must ha' binanither."
"And why?"
"Because, sor, he seemed to lack the stringth that Catesby dothpossiss."
"Methinks that it had been all one to thee had he been possessed oftwice the power of Catesby. I doubt me much that thou had noticed anydifference," laughed Frederick.
At this compliment to his strength Michael blushed like a maiden, andreturned no answer.
"Come, Walter, what wilt thou wager that the would-be assassin of lastnight was or was not Catesby?" asked my friend.
"Truly, my wish is so strong that it was mine old enemy that I willmake it father of the thought, and for the wager,--say--a new cloak, ofParis's latest fashion."
"Done, by Heaven! That cloak will suit me well. I'll lay on Michael'sjudgment."
When we were fully armed we strolled forth from our tent to watch thespectators arrive in one continuous stream, like a sluggish, windingriver, and well nigh as unceasing.
Michael again did ask permission to be absent for a little while, thathe might escort the old ladies unto their seats, and protect them inthe enormous crowd. In a short time we saw his head moving towards therows of seats, as he brushed aside, as though they had been reeds, thegroups of angry tradesmen, that he might make way for those which hedid escort.
"What friends of Michael's are those same old ladies, to which heshoweth such faithful attention and care?" asked Frederick.
"Thou knowest them as well as I."
"Nay, but hast thou never asked him?"
"No; I thought it of but little moment until now. But methinks that Ihave seen those same figures somewhere ere this; though where, I cannotnow recall," said I, as Michael and his charge appeared from out thecrowd. "I will ask Michael when he returns."
But ere my squire did return the heralds rode into the lists, andstarted their tedious recitation of the rules of that day's sports; thewhich we were so absorbed in listening to, in the effort to gather somesmall particle of sense from, that I thought not of that which I hadintended asking Michael.
The marshals then entered the field, and took up their customarypositions to enforce the rules of the joust; the which were, as near asI could make out, not different from the first day's.
"There, Walter, I have won my wager; for, if mine eyes do serve mearight, thine ancient foe, Catesby, hath taken his place among theKing's guards."
"Thou art right; the cloak is thine. But see! he wears not his armour,although his both arms appear to be whole and sound."
"True, your treatment of him yesterday hath been sufficient to satisfyhis appetite for glory and revenge, such as he obtained in the lists."
Then, as mine enemy turned his head, Michael, who was now standingbehind me, exclaimed, in a voice low but heavy, like the roll ofdistant thunder:--"The damned villain's head is cracked; fer look atthe clout that shows beneath his cap. Sure its bad luck that the blowthat did it stopped ere it rached the varmint's chin."
* * * * *
That evening, as we journeyed slowly and wearily back from the fieldthat had been during the last two days the scene of so many noble featsof arms, and of which nothing now remained but the long and narrowstrip of sandy ground where the sod had been removed to leave a leveland firm place for the list, and the black spots to point out theplaces where had glowed the fires, Harleston remarked in his low andmusing voice:--
"Verily, yon place doth represent the lives of men."
"How so?" I asked.
"Records of our deeds are imprinted in the sand. If a storm doth ariseto-night, all the little mounds that indicate some noble courses runshall be levelled, and a traveller passing there to-morrow will noticenothing but a barren strip, with nowhere on its face a mark to tell ofglorious deeds performed."
The thought of this was sad, and yet 'twas true; as are the most ofgloomy thoughts. It is for this same reason that I ever try to turn mymind's eye to the pleasures and the joys of life, the which are farfrom few. I therefore, on this occasion, turned from the contemplationof this dreary sight to the scene that should await me when, thatevening, I would go unto the Sanctuary; for such was mine intent. Icould picture, in my mind's eye, my fair Hazel waiting and watchingwith the agony of expectation for me; wondering if I ever should returnfrom that sport which she so much disliked on account of its"inhumanity," as she had said.
I wondered if Harleston's mind were not drawing the same picture. Hadhe yet asked Mary to be his wife? I believed he had; for the daybefore we rode forth to the tournament, when we had visited the girls,Hazel had let drop a remark that did arouse my suspicions; and when Iquestioned her upon the point she laughingly informed me of the factthat I was "too inquisitive," the which I doubt not. And try as Iwould I could get nothing more from her. I had not liked to askHarleston; for there seems to be a something, the name of which I knownot, that ever doth keep us from mentioning this subject to one whichwe believe to be in love, unless they first do bring it up.
By this time we had almost reached the Palace of King Richard.
Loud cheered the people as the King rode along the crowd-lined streetsand scattered gold among them with a lavish hand.
"God save King Richard!" rang out on every side.
I had as soon cried:--"God save the devil!"
The broken-headed Catesby rode beside the King. The two seemed to beconversing as we reached Crosby Place.
"Not favourable to me," said I in Harleston's ear, as I nodded in thedirection of the hump-backed King and his adviser.
My friend did not reply, in words; but he shook his head in a mannerwhich showed that he realized my danger fully.
After giving our horses to our grooms we entered the great hall, andfrom there--when the King had withdrawn himself--we went to mine ownroom.
How gloomy and lonely did it seem. Something huge, black and terribledid seem to vanish from the centre of the room, dividing into a scoreof parts, and each part retaining, for an instant only, a pair of fieryeyes, as the light of our lamp burst into the room, dispelling all thedarkness.
Now, on this night my room seemed not the same. Ever did I expect tosee some spirit of evil arise before mine eyes and stretch out itsfantastic arms to seize me. A great gloom had fallen on us both.Neither spoke for some time; and when at length I said to Harleston:--
"No longer can I bear this life; to-morrow I leave this Palaceforever," mine own voice did seem to startle me; so hollow andunnatural did it sound.
Then, as if the words I had said were to be turned into a prophecy, aknock came at the door, and, upon opening, in walked Sir James Tyrrelland a half a score of men-at-arms.
"I regret, Sir Walter Bradley, that I am compelled to ask you for yoursword, and to tell thee that I now arrest thee."
"Upon what charge?"
"High treason, Sir Walter."
Harleston arose and grasped my hand in a grip that could not bemistaken.
&n
bsp; "Tell not my dear Hazel of this; that is, not at present."
"Keep up thy courage," he replied; "thou shalt not die by the hand ofan executioner. I, thy friend, Harleston, have said it, and I neveryet have told a lie."
I thanked him for his kind words with the pressure of my hand, and witha firm step marched from the room.
In the hall I met Michael on his way to my quarters. When he saw me hemade a movement as though he thought to attack the soldiers whichsurrounded me.
"Farewell, Michael," I said, as a great lump arose in my throat, and Igripped his mighty hand. "Go to Sir Frederick, in my room, and infuture serve him as faithfully as in the past thou hast served me."
He dropped to one knee and, though I tried to prevent him, he kissed myhand as though I were a King. Then he arose and walked slowly towardthe door where Harleston stood.
As I marched on I wiped two drops of moisture from the back of my hand.