With Ring of Shield

by Knox Magee

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE FIELD OF BOSWORTH

  On the fourth day following, and late in the afternoon, we at lastfound the camp of Lord Stanley.

  Once we came near running our heads through the noose, and there endingall our hopes and fears.

  It was just as we were nearing the town of Bosworth, in our search forStanley's force, that we fell in with a straggling body of yeomen andsome few men-at-arms. I asked them to direct me to Lord Stanley's camp.

  "Straight ahead, sir, until thou comest unto the first turning to theright. Here turn, and that road will take ye unto your destination,which is the Town of Bosworth," replied their leader.

  I thanked him and rode on, following his directions.

  Soldiers of all ranks and arms were hurrying along by every road.

  Presently we drew in sight of Bosworth. The town seemed filled withsoldiers, and others were arriving at every moment.

  "Ho! sirrah, canst thou inform me whose force it is that occupiesyonder town?" I asked of a straggler by my side.

  The fellow stared at me in surprise for a breathing space and thenanswered:--"Why, his Majesty King Richard's, to be sure. Thou didstnot think that Richmond had taken it, didst thou?"

  "Hill!" ejaculated Michael.

  I came near to betraying mine emotion; but controlled myself in timeand asked:--"But where doth Lord Stanley keep his camp?"

  "To the North and West about a mile, sir."

  I muttered a prayer of thanksgiving for mine escape from falling intothe hands of mine enemies, and wheeling our horses about we retracedour steps until we came upon the road that we had left at the directionof the yeoman. This we pursued for some little distance, and then webeheld Lord Stanley's camp before us.

  We rode up to before the noble Lord's tent and to the guard before thedoor I gave my name and asked to be admitted.

  The soldier had scarcely entered when out rushed Harleston.

  "Ah! my dear friends!" he cried to Michael and me, "how is it that Ihave the delight of having ye both here? Methought ye were with thenoble Earl," and he nodded to the westward.

  "But why are ye so glum; hath aught gone amiss?" he asked, with ananxious look.

  "Ay, Frederick, everything has gone amiss." And then I told him allthe sad news.

  When I had finished he stood gazing thoughtfully before him. Then heput his hand upon my shoulder, and tenderly he said:--

  "I need not tell thee to be brave; that thou ever art. But consolethee I may. Bethink thee now of that which shall happen to-morrow.Then shalt thou have thy revenge; for the noble Richmond is not one tolet go, with his head upon his shoulders, such an one as Catesby."

  "Ay, but think of that which may happen to my dear Hazel ere we haveCatesby in our power."

  "Nay, thou must not think her peril greater than it is."

  "How is it possible for it to be greater than it is? Is she not inthat fiend's power?"

  "That I grant you. But remember that Catesby must be greatly occupiedwith his master's business, and shall have short time in which toinflict his plague-like presence on her.

  "Her, no doubt, he hath sent to some place of safety, where she shallremain until after the battle.

  "The Usurper's friends all think that their victory is assured, andthat Richmond, ere sunset to-morrow, shall be without a head. Littledo they suspect that Northumberland's forces will move not to foulRichard's aid; or that Lord Stanley here, and his brother there, willjoin with the noble Richmond.

  "Catesby will take his time and, when thou art dead, the which hethinks thou soon shalt be, he'll go and gently woo the Lady Hazel.This doth Catesby intend to do, or else I do know nothing of the man."

  "Dost thou think thus, indeed, my friend; or do you say these wordsthat thou mayst comfort me with false hopes?" I asked, as I trembledwith hope and fear.

  "Verily do I believe that which I said will prove to be the case."

  "Thanks, thanks! my friend. Thou knowest not the load that thou hasttaken from my heart. What, oh what could I do without the aid of thyclear insight into the motives and the thoughts of all men?"

  "Nay, nay, flatter me not," he replied, with a depreciating smile;"thou hast the same, if not a better, judgment, if thou wouldst but becalm and use it."

  "Jist wait till to-morrow, and Master Catesby 'll fale the weight o'moy hand," growled Michael, whose features still wore their look ofgrim determination.

  Lord Stanley received me most cordially, and expressed his regret at mygreat misfortune in falling into the trap set with such prodigiousskill by Catesby.

  "Do but be patient, Sir Walter," said he, in that kindly voice of his,"to-morrow's work shall tell a different tale. Richard doth despisehis foe, and his great conceit doth cause him to underestimate thehatred his subjects have for him.

  "I have a scar upon my head, the which must be revenged. Besides, hehath taken my son, George Stanley, to keep as an hostage for myloyalty. That I may save my son's life it shall be necessary for me tohold back my forces from taking part against the boar, until such timeas he doth engage with Richmond. Then shall the tide of battle change,and England shall be freed of tyranny."

  That night, Harleston, Michael, and I, all occupied the one tent, andagain was the tournament brought afresh to my mind, and with it an evenmore intense hatred of my powerful foe, which I now felt I would soonhave within my power to crush. With the sweet thoughts of a speedyvengeance for all my wrongs, I at length fell into a restless sleep,from which I was awakened by the shrill blast of the startling trumpet.

  The day was just dawning; but with no great cheer of brightness. Thegreat hollow plain of Redmoor looked dark and misty, as though it diddislike and dreaded the shock of battle that soon was to disturb itsgloomy, brooding stillness.

  When we had breakfasted and armed, the sun had risen sufficientlyhigh--though still did he remain behind a thick and dreary covering--toenable us to watch the movements of the two opposing armies.

  The shape of this battle-field--as ye all do know--is that of a shallowsaucer, with one side chipped out, or flattened.

  From the right of us Richmond's army, numbering some six thousand men,all told, advanced slowly down the gentle slope to meet the tyrant andhis force of some twelve thousand, or thereabouts, approaching from theother side.

  We now saw that Stanley had well chosen his ground for the successfulcarrying out of his plan; for as the two unequal forces did approacheach other it became evident that they must meet directly in front ofus.

  Soon the archers were engaged, and the deadly arrows flew through theintervening space like hail.

  Our force, of seven thousand goodly warriors, was now drawn up inlines, and the command was given to advance.

  Slowly did we march down towards the opposing armies that now wereengaged with the full fury of those that have received their baptism ofarrow's flight. As we drew near there was a temporary lull in theclamour of the battle. Then we swung around and bore down upon theUsurper's forces from the Earl of Richmond's side.

  Then was the heavy air rent asunder with loud, ringing cheers fromRichmond's men, and foul curses and shouts of defiance from theUsurper's side.

  Now did the battle rage with a redoubled fury. The army of the valiantEarl fought with the confidence of ultimate success; whilst Richard'sstruggled on with desperation. Our archers fought side by side withRichmond's foreigners.

  "God and St. George!" rang forth on every side above the battle's din.

  Then came the order which we knights had all been long awaiting.

  "Charge, gallant knights of England! A Richmond! A Richmond!Victorious laurel crowns await us!"

  Then the long lances with their fluttering streamers bent all togetheras they were laid in rest. How looked they like the full grown fieldof grain as it doth bend before the hot blasts of summer.

  "Now, Walter, we must find Catesby!" cried Harleston.

  "Yea, _I_ must find him," I replied between my set teeth, as forwa
rd wedashed.

  Michael gave one great cheer and then leaned forward with his mightysword, that took the strength of two good men to wield, held beside hishuge steed's neck.

  On we flew, whilst forward dashed a band of knights and squires to meetus.

  "Charge! charge! charge!" rang out on every side.

  A crash!--curses,--cheers and groans! and then the sharp swords flashedover head, and the shields rang out right lustily.

  My lance did resist the shock of the first encounter; the knightagainst whom I aimed it going down before my furious charge as thoughhe had been a reed.

  Sharply I spurred my steed and dashed forward at another knight, whichbravely came on to meet me. Both lances shivered up to the very grasp.Drawing my good sword I again made at him. Then came a terrible blowupon my side, and I was shot from my saddle as a stone from a sling.Some cowardly knave had borne down upon me from the right whilst I wasdrawing my sword to attack my more worthy antagonist. His lance'spoint had struck beneath mine arm, and 'twas to our good King Edward'snoble present that I owed my life.

  I must have been stunned for a moment; for the next thing I knew of wasa knee upon my chest and a visored face bending o'er me.

  "Now I will finish the work left incomplete when last we met." It wasCatesby.

  In his hand he held a dagger, and now he drew it back to strike.

  The only sensation I then felt was a curiosity to know how it wouldfeel to die. The stroke I cared not for; but yet I wondered, with akind of disinterestedness, how one would feel as the soul was partingfrom the body. It must have been that my senses were still scattered,or I had not acted thus. No resistance did I make; but with anindifferent feeling awaited the fatal blow where my helm joined mygorget.

  All this could not have taken more time than does the lightning to flyacross the heavens; for still the dagger stayed poised in the air.

  "Hark ye!" hissed Catesby in mine ear.

  "Take with thee this message unto Hell. Say that I, Catesby, did sendthee to thy master, and that, unless the fortunes of the day bechanged, I'll not be long behind thee." Then up higher flew thethreatening blade. Then did it start on its downward course. It neverreached my throat. A great hand seized mine enemy by the wrist; backflew the dagger-grasping hand until the arm snapped like a dry stick.Catesby flew into the air as though drawn by a mighty loadstone. Thenwas he hurled to the ground again with stunning force, and my greatMichael kneeled beside me.

  "Art thou hurt, yer honour?" he asked anxiously.

  "Nay, Michael; I got but a sudden fall that dazed me. 'Twas for amoment only; now again do I feel a man." And with Michael's assistanceI arose to my feet.

  Then Catesby stirred, and Michael was upon him in an instant; dagger inhand, and drawn back for the fatal blow.

  "Hold! hold, Michael! slay him not! I must question him!" I cried.

  "Uh! bad luck to me fer a blunderin' fool; sure we must foind out wharehe has the dear lady kipt, ere we send the varmint to roast in sulphur."

  "Come, Master Catesby, our late respective positions are now reversed,"said I calmly and distinctly, that my speech might be clear to hisdazed senses. "Dost hear me?"

  In a feeble voice, and with the use of many curses intermixed withgroans, he answered that he did.

  "Before thou diest thou shalt have an opportunity for the making ofsome slight restitution for the many wrongs that thou hast done to me.Tell me where I may find the Lady Hazel."

  He raised himself up and leaned on his well arm, whilst the other didhang limp and twisted at his side.

  "And what shall I receive for the telling of this to thee?"

  "The weight of one good act to place opposite to the great load of evilon the scales of justice, when thou dost shortly appear before the seatof judgment."

  "Ha, ha, ha!" loud did he laugh. "And dost thou then think that I ambereft of reason, to thus fling from me all that I do possess wherewithto buy my life? Nay, unless thou dost spare my life, thou mayestsearch from now until thy death, ere thou dost find the lady that thouseekest."

  I held my dagger to his throat, but still he did hold his secret fast.

  "Thy miserable life is then spared, for the present, if thou dost tellme where the lady is."

  "And wilt thou forbid yon demon from murdering me?"

  "Thou shalt not be harmed by either of us; but for thy treatment at thehands of the Earl of Richmond I cannot speak.

  "Agreed! my life shall rest upon the hazard of this battle, as it didere we met this day."

  "Remember, if thou liest it shall be thy last; for thou dost stillremain my prisoner."

  "Go then unto the Town of Leicester--if thou ever canst--and within theSanctuary near Grey Friars' Church thou shalt find the lady. There wasshe sent from the house in which I left thee, and there did I obtainadmittance for her. I have not seen her since thou hast; but lastevening I went unto the place and gave strict orders that there shemust be kept until I sent or came for her. Thou canst not get her outwithout this ring. Here, draw it from my finger."

  This I did, and then I commanded Michael to take him to the rear ofRichmond's army.

  I felt no fear of Catesby's escape; for he might as well have tried toescape from the unrelenting gates of Hell, as from the mighty Michael.

  The battle raged not nearby where I stood; but down at the marsh thefight was at its thickest. Hastily did I secure a horse, and I spurredhim hard as I made for Richmond's standard.

  The royal banner of England now dashed forward, and the two flags werewell nigh together.

  "This now must be the finish," cried I, as I waved my good sword incircles round my head.

  Then came there forward, like a thunderbolt, Sir William Stanley'sgallant horsemen, and rode abreast with me.

  Down sank the gallant standard of the noble Earl, as Richard himselfsmote to the ground Sir William Brandon, who had carried it. Anotherknight sprang forward from the side of Richmond and faced the desperatetyrant. He met the same fate as Brandon. Richmond waved his sword indefiance of the boar, and the two men were like to meet; but I gotbetwixt them and caught Richard's blow upon my shield.

  "Ha! Bradley! Escaped, runagate traitor! Have at thee!"

  Again did I catch his savage blow, and this time I gave him my straightpoint beneath his helm.

  At that very moment another good knight dashed in and, as he sawRichard strike at me, he thought that I was Richmond. His bright bladeflashed through the air and struck the tyrant fair upon his helmedhead. Two such fierce blows, falling both at once, drove Richard fromhis saddle as though a bolt from Heaven had struck him.

  Down from my steed I sprang, and with my dagger clipped the laces ofhis headpiece. Already the eyes were rolled far back, and stared upblindly at me. Not a quiver stirred his frame. He had died in thetwinkling of an eye.

  The sun now rent asunder the clouds of Heaven, as had the two flashingswords torn the darkest clouds that had surrounded us all for so long atime, and the whole field was filled with brightness. Mayhap it wasthe resounding shouts of victory of our now half-crazed army that didrend the heavy clouds; for one could scarce hear himself cheer, so loudwere the shouts of gladness all around us.

  The remnant of the dead tyrant's force--for above four thousand hadbeen slain--offered no further resistance, and the great majority ofthem did join in and cheer for the victorious Earl.

  Then Harleston grasped my hand. His visor was raised up and his facewas flushed with pleasure and exertion.

  "Well, Bradley, our oath, made to King Edward, hath been kept; we haverevenged the murder of his little son."

  It was he who had struck down Richard at the same moment as had I.

  Richmond dismounted and, kneeling, he thanked God for his greatvictory. Then he arose and grasped both Harleston and me by the hands,and heartily he thanked us for the part that we had played.

  Sir William Stanley now advanced to where the Earl of Richmond stood.In his hand he carried the light, gold crown
that had been worn byRichard in the battle. This he placed upon the victor's head, and thenwe all knelt down and cried:--"God save King Henry!" Then, as do thewaters spread out in ever widening circling waves after a stone hathbeen dropped through their smooth surface, the cries of:--"God saveKing Henry!" swept throughout the whole delirious army.

  "Great God, I thank thee for this bounteous gift presented by the handsof these, thy faithful servants," said Henry devoutly, as again hekneeled.

  "May I rule this, my fair, native land with justice, and under thydirection."

  Then again we all arose, and deafening cheers swept with redoubledvigour over the plains of Redmoor.

  "Throw yon bloody carrion across the back of some degraded horse, andthen on to Leicester, where we will spend the night," said the King, ashe pointed to Richard's body.

  Frederick and I had little difficulty in finding Michael; for duringthe preceding scene he had forced his way through the crowd and stoodnear behind us. We then joined in with the guards of our new sovereignand rode on to Leicester, with hearts lighter than they had been formany a long, black day; and yet with anxious minds, as we wonderedwhether Catesby had told the truth or no.

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  CONCLUSION

  When we reached our destination we handed Catesby over to the properauthorities, and from that time we had naught to do with his fate.

  We hastened by the shortest way to the Grey Friars' Church, and fromthere, when we had been directed, we went to the Sanctuary.

  Catesby had spoken the truth; the ring that I had taken from his fingergained for us admittance.

  At first Hazel refused to see us, and prayed protection of the churchfolk.

  Then I remembered me, and sent unto her our names. Instantly then werewe admitted into her presence, and happy reunion took the place oftorturous separation and maddening anxiety.

  "Come now, art happy and content?" I asked, when our joyous greetinghad gone the rounds.

  "Yes, yes, so happy now, dear;--but how are thine ears?" she broke insuddenly.

  "Tush! 'twas a mere nothing; he but cut off the skin."

  However, she would not be content until I had taken off my helm and shehad redressed the slight wounds.

  "But what became of him?" she asked, as a shudder ran through herframe. "I have not seen him since he was torturing thee. The next Iknew I was within a closed, wheeled litter, travelling at a fearfulpace, and this woman here, beside me. I tried to get out, but couldnot. Armed men rode all around the litter. Steadily did we travel on,stopping but seldom to get fresh horses, food, and some little rest,until we reached this place. Here have I been locked up and treated asa mad woman."

  "The fiend!" I cried.

  "Yes, Catesby had evidently been here and told them that I was his madsister, which thought I was another, and this woman here hath been mykeeper since I came."

  I walked over to where the woman--an old hag--was crouched on a benchin a corner, trembling with fear.

  "Thou mayest leave this place at once, madam," I said, "and thank God,which made thee so, that thou hast at least the sex of a woman.

  "Your master is now the prisoner of our new King Henry, and, unless theaforesaid King be of more forgiving nature than I think, Catesby shallsoon be with his master, the usurping tyrant, Richard, which is evennow in Hell's consuming fire."

  "Oh, poor Sir William!" she wailed. "Ah, sir! I nursed him at mybreast, and ever since have I been his servant. Oh! save him, sir! Iknow he did have his faults; but still do I love and serve him, asthough he were mine own. For God's sake, sir, speak but a word to yournew King, and thou canst save him! Return good for evil, now that thouhast the power!" and she knelt at my feet and threw her arms about mylegs.

  "Strange," thought I, "that even such a villain as is Catesby hath someone who loves him." Then aloud I said:--"It must not be. My wrongsare not the only ones that he must answer for. Catesby hath writ avolume of misdeeds, and the whole world hath perused them. No man canstop the bad effects of these in other ways than by the suppression ofthe one that doeth them."

  "Wilt thou not have mercy on him, Walter dear?" asked thetender-hearted maid which now clung to my side.

  I started in surprise. "What! dost thou plead for Catesby?" I asked.

  "Nay, not for him; but for this old woman here. She hath done naughtbut obey her master. Save the knave, Walter, for this old woman'ssake. We can now afford to be generous, Walter dear; now that alldanger is past. Besides, he can do no harm, and mayhap your generositywill show him the evil of his acts, and he will then repent," and shestroked my cheek coaxingly.

  Truly, a woman is the most unfathomable work of God. Here was thismaid, quick as a hornet to resent a wrong, and yet forgiving as a dovewhen the danger had passed.

  I hesitated; but her tender eyes were on me, and I could not resisttheir wondrous charm.

  "Well,--I will see what may be done," I replied slowly, and with greatreluctance. "But remember, I have little thought that he can avoid theblock, or halter."

  Then I went unto the King's headquarters and told him my request.

  "What, Bradley! spare the life of Catesby; the man that so hath wrongedthee? By the light of Heaven! my long sojourn across the channel hathmade me to forget the nature of an English gentleman! But may I askyour reason for this strange request?" he asked more seriously.

  I told him.

  "'Tis but an old woman's whim; but even so I had been glad to grantthee this request; but thou art too late. His head was stricken offbut a few moments before thou earnest."

  "Thank Gawd!" growled Michael from the door, whither he had followed,as faithful as my shadow.

  "And is this a friend of thine?" asked the King.

  "Ay, your Majesty, he is my noble squire. To him, your Grace, do I owemy life a score of times." And then I told him of the worthy Irishman.

  When I came to the part that Michael had played that day the Kingexclaimed:--

  "What! captured Catesby! Kneel down my faithful subject. What is thyname?"

  "Moichael O'Brien, yer Majesty."

  The King drew forth his sword and laid it upon the mighty shoulder."Arise, Sir Michael O'Brien."

  Still did not Michael stand; but merely raised his head and stared inbewilderment at the King.

  "Come, Sir Michael, let me be the first to congratulate thee on thydistinction," said I, as I grasped his hand and raised him to his feet.

  He could not speak, but looked his surprise and thanks more eloquentlythan could have been expressed by a whole volume of words.

  When we reached the Sanctuary I informed the old hag that I had beentoo late to save Catesby.

  How she howled and chattered like a mad creature, and Hazel, like thedear forgiving angel that she hath ever been, comforted this old womanwith soft, soothing words, and at last succeeded in quieting her. Theold woman was then led off to another room, and since that day I neverhave beheld her. And for this I am thankful; for I could not look uponher without mixed emotions of hate and sympathy struggling within myheart.

  The next morning the dead tyrant was buried, and Frederick, Michael,and I went to Grey Friars' Church to look the last upon the one onwhich the result of our oath made to his brother had fallen. I touchedhis hand. In death he was as cold as a salamander, and 'tis like hissoul was in that place where this peculiar beast best flourishes.

  "Richard succeeded better than I thought possible, when he drew in theship of power," said Harleston. "But when the sailors found what kindof captain they did have to rule them they mutinied and killed theirtyrant master."

  "His tower of crime did fall, and it crushed its builder, as thousaidst it should," said I.

  "Yes," replied Frederick.

  Then he continued in his musing way; his head bowed in thought.

  "We are all but dry leaves, lying upon the ground of time. The gust oflife doth come along, and it hurls us some distance from the earth. Onwe travel for a short space; some of us sa
iling higher than the others.The breeze dies out, and we all do fall back to the same low level."

  The truth of Harleston's words was made most clear to me then, as Igazed upon the corpse of him who had been, but a short time since, aKing, and now was a cold lump of earth, such as we all must be.

  We then went to ask the King for his permission for us to return toWestminster with the Lady Hazel.

  His Majesty received us in a most friendly manner, and granted us thedesired permission.

  "I suppose," said he, as we were leaving his presence, "that I need notask thee, Sir Walter, nor thee, Sir Frederick, to remain at my courtwhen I do reach London; for I have heard of two fair maidens which yedo intend to make your wives. Well, ye are both right, and, when theGovernment hath been set in order, I do intend to follow your worthyexample, and wed the fair, budding young Elizabeth. Ye both have myheartiest wishes of the happiness that ye have won through many darkdays of misery, and by your gallant acts in the liberating of Englandfrom a rule of tyranny. Never doubt but that ye ever shall live in mymemory, or that I ever will neglect some small reward for noble servicerendered."

  "Thanks, thanks, your Majesty!" we replied.

  "And if your Grace doth ever require--the which pray God ye nevermay--two trusty swords, thou shalt never be compelled to send an orderfor them," said Harleston with a heartiness that could not be mistaken.

  "Well do I know that, sirs." Then turning to the gigantic fresh-dubbedknight, he said:--

  "Sir Michael, thou hast no love that will keep thee from remaining withus at the Palace?"

  The mighty man started, and looked imploringly at the King, and thenhopelessly at me; yet spoke he not a word.

  "Come, Sir Michael," said I, "speak freely your mind to his Majesty.He is not the tyrant Richard, that ever hated men to give their honestthoughts expression."

  Still did he hesitate and grew more confused with each breath.

  "Ah! I see the trouble, and I think none the less of thee for thyfeeling," said the King, with admiration in his voice and manner, as hewalked to where Michael stood and put his hand upon the honestshoulder. "Thou dost still wish to abide with your old master, and yetfear to displease me with refusing my request. Come, am I not right?"

  "Sure, that's the houle truth o' the thing, yer Majesty."

  "Then go with Sir Walter, my good friend. Such loyalty doth raise theein mine estimation. I know full well that should I ever need thee,thou wilt flash thy good sword betwixt the two of these good friends."

  "Oi thank yer Majesty."

  "Farewell, my faithful friends. In London soon I hope to see ye all."

  As we left the room in which this interview took place I felt a greatlump rise up in my throat, as I thought of my faithful Michael'sloyalty. No word did I speak unto him; but I took his great hand inmine and pressed it hard.

  Right after dinner we set out for Westminster and proceeded rapidly,until we reached the Sanctuary late in the second day following.

  Joyous then was our reunion. The girls, the Queen and her daughtersembraced, laughed and wept, whilst we men, which have no part in suchscenes, stood and looked uncomfortably on.

  The next day, without preparation, there took place in the chapel ofthe Sanctuary a double wedding, in which the fair-haired Mary and thegallant Frederick, and the dark-eyed Hazel and your most humble fatherand grandfather, played the important parts; whilst the ex-Queen andher daughters, together with the great Michael, lent right nobleassistance. The priests prayed; the soft voices of the choir sangforth in tender harmony. We were blessed, and then walked from thechapel, with the sweet music lingering like a love kiss in our ears.

  'Twas as we walked forth that Harleston and I both drew from ourdoublets--as we had foreplanned we would--the remembrances that thegirls had given us long days before in the park at Windsor. These wereturned to them, and they laughed and kissed them and re-gave themunto us.

  Still have we both those tokens; and mine doth now lie before me as Ipen these words. I take it up and kiss it tenderly, and a tear dropsdown upon it.

  Place that small glove, my children, in my grave and on mydeath-stilled heart when I am gone.

  * * * * *

  The King forgot not the service we had rendered him upon that mistyplain of Redmoor. A handsome wedding portion did he send to both thegirls, although they did not need it. And when, later in his reign, hedid acquire the habit of imposing heavy fines upon all of his subjects,both Harleston and myself escaped "as though by magic," as said some ofour friends.

  * * * * *

  And now the tale is told, and all that for me remains to do is sit withfolded hands beside that dear grey head before the blazing fire, andtalk away the winter's day. And in the hot summer's evenings stroll,with that same dear trusting hand upon mine arm, that for sixty yearshath been there, beneath the old oaks of dear Bradley House. And whenyour dear cousins, Harleston, and your Uncle Frederick and AuntMary--as ye do call them--come over to spend with us a quiet evening,we all do sit upon the great lawn and talk the setting sun into hisrest.

  And now but a word of the great Michael, which ye all do love sodearly. Mayhap ye never have heard the reason why we do not call him"Sir." It was at his own request that we did drop the distinction.

  "Sure, yer honour," said he to me one day, "if ye playze, wouldst thoumoind if Oi axed thee to not call me 'Sor'?"

  "But for why, my good friend?"

  "Uh! sure sor it doesn't sound roight to moy ears, and maketh me tofale a stranger to thee, sor. Playze, sor, give unto me back moy ouldname and Oi'll fale more loike moysilf."

  That, my dears, is the reason why the great man who hath ever livedwith us, and carried ye all on his mighty shoulders, hath ever beenknown unto ye all as plain, old, faithful Michael.

  And so, like the harmonious voices of a choir, we five are singing thelast, sweet, trembling note. It is dying softly out; but with atender, holy peacefulness.

  THE END

  NOTE.--Sir Walter Bradley's chronicle differs, in some parts, from thehistories of the majority of the writers of his time. His mostimportant contradictions of his contemporaries are:--

  His description of the taking of Berwick--which place, the otherauthorities state, was besieged for several weeks, by land and sea,before it fell.

  The death of King Edward--which event, other chroniclers state, tookplace at Westminster, not Windsor.

  The escape to France of the little Duke of York, who, it is moregenerally believed, was murdered with his brother, in the Tower.

  On all other important points Sir Walter's statements are corroboratedby his contemporaries.

  K.M.