CHAPTER IX
With the first dawn of morning, the chapel bell began to toll, and wasreplied to by the deeper sound of the bell of the parish church. Soonthe court began to be filled with the neighbouring villagers, withbeggars, palmers, mendicant friars of all orders, pressing to thebuttery-hatch, where they received the dole of bread, meat, and ale,from the hands of the pantler, under the direction of the almoner ofGlastonbury, who requested their prayers for the soul of the noble SirReginald Lynwood, and Dame Eleanor of Clarenham, his wife. Thepeasantry of Lynwood, and the beggars, whose rounds brought themregularly to the Keep of Lynwood, and who had often experienced thebounty of the departed lady, replied with tears and blessings. Therewere not wanting the usual though incongruous accompaniments of such ascene--the jugglers and mountebanks, who were playing their tricks inone corner.
Within the hall, all was in sad, sober, and solemn array, contrastingwith the motley concourse in the court. Little Arthur, dressed inblack, stood by the side of his uncle, to receive the greetings of hisyeoman vassals, as they came in, one by one, with clownish courtesy,but hearty respect and affection, and great satisfaction at theunexpected appearance of the young Knight.
Next came in long file, mounted on their sleek mules, the twelve monksof Glastonbury, whom the Knight and his nephew reverently received atthe door, and conducted across the hall to the chapel, where the parishPriest, Father Cyril, and some of the neighbouring clergy had beenchanting psalms since morning light. On the way Sir Eustace held someconference with the chief, Brother Michael, who had come prepared toassist in conveying Arthur, if possible, to Glastonbury, but was veryglad to find that the Knight was able to take upon himself the chargeof his nephew, without embroiling the Abbey with so formidable an enemyas Lord de Clarenham.
The next arrival was Sir Philip Ashton and his son, who could hardlybelieve their eyes when Eustace met them. Leonard's manner was atfirst cordial; but presently, apparently checked by some suddenrecollection, he drew back, and stood in sheepish embarrassment,fumbling with his dagger, while Sir Philip was lavishing compliments onEustace, who was rejoiced when the sound of horses made it necessary togo and meet Lord de Clarenham at the door. Arthur looked up in SirFulk's face, with a look in which curiosity and defiance wereexpressed; while Fulk, on his side, was ready to grind his teeth withvexation at the unexpected sight of the only man who could interferewith his projects. Then he glanced at his own numerous andwell-appointed retinue, compared them with the small number of theLynwood vassals, and with another look at his adversary's youthful andgentle appearance, he became reassured, and returned his salutationswith haughty ceremony.
The whole company moved in solemn procession towards the chapel, wherethe mass and requiem were chanted, and the corpse of the Lady Eleanor,inclosed in a stone coffin, was lowered to its resting-place, in thevault of her husband's ancestors.
It was past noon when the banquet was spread in the hall; a highertable on the dais for the retainers and yeomanry, the latter of whomwere armed with dagger, short sword, or quarter-staff.
Sir Philip Ashton and Brother Michael were chiefly at the expense ofthe conversation, Eustace meanwhile doing the honours with gravecourtesy, taking care to keep his nephew by his side. There was no onewho did not feel as if on the eve of a storm; but all was grave anddecorous; and at length Brother Michael and the monks of Glastonbury,rejoicing that they, at least, had escaped a turmoil, took their leave,mounted their mules, and rode off, in all correctness of civilitytoward the house of Lynwood, which, as Eustace could not help feeling,they thus left to fight its own battles.
"It waxes late," said Lord de Clarenham, rising; "bring out the horses,Miles; and you, my young kinsman, Arthur, you are to be my guest fromhenceforth. Come, therefore, prepare for the journey."
Arthur held fast by the hand of his uncle, who replied, "I thank you inmy nephew's name for your intended hospitality, but I purpose at onceto conduct him to Bordeaux, to be enrolled among the Prince's pages."
"Conduct him to Bordeaux, said the Knight?" answered Sir Fulk with asneer; "to Bordeaux forsooth! It is well for you, my fair youngcousin, that I have other claims to you, since, were you once out ofEngland, I can well guess who would return to claim the lands ofLynwood."
"What claim have you to his wardship, Sir Fulk?" asked Eustace, coldly,disdaining to take notice of the latter part of this speech.
"As his feudal superior, and his nearest relation of full age," repliedClarenham.
"There are many here who can prove that it is twenty-one years past,since I was born on the feast of St. Eustace," replied the youngKnight. "The house of Lynwood owns no master beneath the King ofEngland, and the wardship of my nephew was committed to me by both hisparents. Here is a witness of the truth of my words. Holy Father, theparchment!"
Father Cyril spread a thick roll, with heavy seals, purporting to bethe last will and testament of Dame Eleanor Lynwood, bequeathing thewardship and marriage of her son to her beloved brother, Sir EustaceLynwood, Knight Banneret, and, in his absence, to the Lord Abbot ofGlastonbury, and Cyril Langton, Clerk.
"It is nought," said Clarenham, pushing it from him; "the Lady ofLynwood had no right to make a will in this manner, since sheunlawfully detained her son from me, his sole guardian."
"The force of the will may be decided by the King's justices," saidEustace; "but my rights are not founded on it alone. My brother, SirReginald, with his last words, committed his son to my charge."
"What proof do you bring, Sir Eustace?" said Fulk. "I question notyour word, but something more is needed in points of law, and you canscarcely expect the world to believe that Sir Reginald would commit hisonly child to the guardianship of one so young, and the next heir."
"I am here to prove it, my Lord," said Gaston, eagerly. "'To your careI commit him, Eustace,' said Sir Reginald, as he lay with his head onhis brother's breast; and methought he also added, 'Beware ofClarenham.' Was it not so, friend Leonard?"
Leonard's reply was not readily forthcoming. His father was whisperingin his ear, whilst he knit his brow, shuffled with his feet, andshrugged his shoulder disrespectfully in his father's face.
"Speak, Master Ashton," said Clarenham, in a cold incredulous tone, andbending on father and son glances which were well understood. "To yourtestimony, respectable and uninterested, credit must be added."
"What mean you by that, Sir Fulk de Clarenham?" cried Gaston; "for whatdo you take me and my word?"
"Certain tales of you and your companions, Sir Squire," answeredClarenham, "do not dispose me to take a Gascon's word for more than itis worth."
"This passes!" cried Gaston, striking his fist on the table; "youventure it because you are not of my degree! Here, ye craven Squires,will not one of you take up my glove, when I cast back in his teethyour master's foul slander of an honourable Esquire?"
"Touch it not, I command you," said Clarenham, "unless Masterd'Aubricour will maintain that he never heard of a certain one-eyedBasque, and never rode on a free-booting foray with the robber Knight,Perduccas d'Albret."
"What of that?" fiercely cried Gaston.
"Quite enough, Sir Squire," said Fulk, coolly.
Gaston was about to break into a tempest of rage, when Eustace's calmvoice and gesture checked him.
"Sir Fulk," said Eustace, "were you at Bordeaux, you would know that noman's word can be esteemed more sacred, or his character more high,than that of Gaston d'Aubricour."
"But in the meantime," said Clarenham, "we must be content to takethat, as well as much besides, on your own assertion, Sir Eustace. Oncemore, Master Leonard Ashton, let me hear your testimony, as to thedying words of Sir Reginald Lynwood. I am content to abide by them."
"Come, Leonard," said his father, who had been whispering with him allthis time, "speak up; you may be grieved to disappoint a once-friendlycompanion, but you could not help the defect of your ears."
"Sir Philip, I pray you not to prompt your son," said Eustace. "Standforth, Leonard, o
n your honour. Did you or did you not hear the wordsof my brother, as he lay on the bank of the Zadorra?"
Leonard half rose, as if to come towards him, but his father held himfast; he looked down, and muttered, "Ay, truly, I heard Sir Reginaldsay somewhat."
"Tell it out, then."
"He thanked the Prince for knighting you--he prayed him to have chargeof his wife and child--he bade Gaston not to return to evil courses,"said Leonard, bringing out his sentences at intervals.
"And afterwards," said Eustace sternly--"when the Prince was gone? Onyour honour, Leonard."
Leonard almost writhed himself beneath the eyes that Eustace keptsteadily fixed on him. "Somewhat--somewhat he might have said ofknightly training for his son--but--but what do I know?" he added, ashis father pressed hard on his foot; "it was all in your ear, for as helay on your breast, his voice grew so faint, that I could hear littlethrough my helmet."
"Nay, Master Ashton," said John Ingram, pressing forward, "if Iremember right, you had thrown off your helmet, saying it was as hot asa copper cauldron; and besides, our good Knight, when he said thosewords touching Master Arthur, raised himself up somewhat, and spoke outlouder, as if that we might all hear and bear witness."
"No witness beyond your own train, Sir Eustace?" said Clarenham.
"None," said Eustace, "excepting one whose word even you will scarcelydare to dispute, Sir Bertrand du Guesclin."
"I dispute no man's word, Sir Eustace," said Fulk; "I only say thatuntil the claim which you allege be proved in the King's Court, I amthe lawful guardian of the lands and person of the heir of Lynwood. TheLord Chancellor Wykeham may weigh the credit to be attached to thewitness of this highly respectable Esquire, or this long-earedman-at-arms, or may send beyond seas for the testimony of Du Guesclin:in the meantime, I assume my office. Come here, boy."
"I will not come to you, Lord Fulk," said Arthur; "or when I do, itshall be sword in hand to ask for an account for the tears you havemade my sweet mother shed."
"Bred up in the same folly!" said Fulk. "Once more, Sir Eustace, willyou yield him to me, or must I use force?"
"I have vowed before his mother's corpse to shield him from you,"returned Eustace.
"Think of the consequences, Sir Eustace," said Sir Philip Ashton,coming up to him. "Remember the unrepealed grant to the Clarenhams.The Lynwood manor may be at any moment resumed, to which, failing yournephew, you are heir. You will ruin him and yourself."
"It is his person, not his lands, that I am bound to guard," saidEustace. "Let him do his worst; my nephew had better be a landlessman, than one such as Fulk would make him."
"Think," continued Sir Philip, "of the disadvantages to your cause ofprovoking a fray at such a time. Hold your hand, and yield the boy, atleast till the cause come before the Chancellor."
"Never," said Eustace. "His parents have trusted him to me, and I willfulfil my promise. The scandal of the fray be on him who occasions it."
"Recollect, my Lord," said Ashton, turning to Fulk, "that this may bemisrepresented. These young warriors are hot and fiery, and this youngKnight, they say, has succeeded to all his brother's favour with thePrince."
"I will not be bearded by a boy," returned Clarenham, thrusting himaside. "Hark you, Sir Eustace. You have been raised to a height whichhas turned your head, your eyes have been dazzled by the gilding ofyour spurs, and you have fancied yourself a man; but in your own countyand your own family, airs are not to be borne. We rate you at what youare worth, and are not to be imposed on by idle tales which theboastful young men of the Prince's court frame of each other. Give upthese pretensions, depart in peace to your fellows at Bordeaux, and wewill forget your insolent interference."
"Never, while I live," replied Eustace. "Vassals of Lynwood, guardyour young Lord."
"Vassals of Lynwood," said Fulk, "will you see your young Lord carriedoff to perish in some unknown region, and yourselves left a prey to anadventurer and freebooter?"
"For that matter, my Lord," said an old farmer, "if all tales be true,Master Arthur is like to learn less harm with Sir Eustace than in yourjolly household--I for one will stand by our good Lord's brother to thelast. What say you, comrades?"
"Hurrah for the Lances of Lynwood!" shouted John Ingram, and the crywas taken up by many a gruff honest voice, till the hall rang again,and the opposing shout of "a Clarenham, a Clarenham!" was raised by theretainers of the Baron. Eustace, at the same moment, raised his nephewin his arms, and lifted him up into the embrasure of one of the highwindows. Sir Philip Ashton still hung upon Clarenham, pleading inbroken sentences which were lost in the uproar: "Hold! Hold! my Lord.Nay, nay, think but"--(here he was thrust roughly aside by Fulk)--"SirEustace, do but hear--it will be a matter for the council--in the nameof the King--for the love of Heaven--Leonard, son Leonard! for Heaven'ssake what have you to do with the matter? Down with that sword, andfollow me! Dost not hear, froward boy? Our names will be called inquestion! Leonard, on your duty--Ha! have a care! there!"
These last words were broken short, as Gaston, rushing forwards to hismaster's side, overthrew the table, which carried Sir Philip with it inthe fall, and he lay prostrate under the boards, a stumbling-block to astream of eager combatants, who one after another dashed against him,fell, and either rose again, or remained kicking and struggling witheach other.
After several minutes' confused fighting, the tumult cleared away, asit were, leaving the principals on each side opposite to each other,and as the fortune of the day rested on their conflict, all becamegradually fixed in attention, resting upon their weapons, in readinessat any moment to renew their own portion of the combat.
Fulk, tall and robust, had far more the appearance of strength than hisslenderly-made antagonist, but three years in the school of chivalryhad not been wasted by Eustace, and the sword of Du Guesclin was in ahand well accustomed to its use. Old Ralph was uttering under hisbreath ecstatic exclamations: "Ha! Well struck! A rare foil--aperfect hit--Have a care--Ah! there comes my old blow--That isright--Old Sir Henry's master-stroke-- There--one of your new Frenchbackstrokes--but it told--Oh! have a care--The Saintsguard--Ay--There--Follow it up! Hurrah for Lynwood!" as Fulk tottered,slipped, sank on one knee, and receiving a severe blow on the head withthe back of the sword, measured his length on the ground.
"Hurrah for Lynwood!" re-echoed through the hall, but Eustace cut shortthe clamour at once, by saying, "Peace, my friends, and thanks! SirFulk de Clarenham," he added, as his fallen foe moved, and began toraise himself, "you have received a lesson, by which I hope you willprofit. Leave the house, whose mourning you have insulted, and thankyour relationship that I forbear to bring this outrage to the notice ofthe King."
While Eustace spoke, Fulk had, by the assistance of two of hisretainers, recovered his feet; but though unwounded, he was so dizziedwith the blow as to be passive in their hands, and to allow himself tobe led into the court, and placed on his horse. Before riding out ofthe gates, he turned round, and clenching his fist, glanced malignantlyat Eustace, and muttered, "You shall aby it."
Another shout of "Down with the false Clarenham! Hurrah for the Lancesof Lynwood, and the brave young Knight!" was raised in the court by thepeasantry, among whom Fulk was so much hated, that not even regard fortheir future welfare could prevent them from indulging in this triumph.Probably, too, they expected the satisfaction of drinking the health ofthe victor, for there were many disappointed countenances when he spokefrom the steps of the porch:--"Thanks for your good-will, my friends.Fare ye well, depart in peace, and remember your young Lord." Thenturning to the parish Priest, he added, in a low voice, "See that theyleave the Castle as soon as possible. The gates must be secured assoon as may be."
He turned back into the hall, and at the door was met by little Arthur,who caught hold of his hand, exclaiming, "So you have won me, and shallkeep me forever, Uncle Eustace; but come in, for here is poor old SirPhilip, who was thrown down under the table in the scuffle, bemoaninghimself most lamentably."
"Sir Philip hurt?" said Eustace, who, vexed as he was by Sir Philip'sbehaviour, preserved a certain neighbourly hereditary respect for him;"I trust not seriously," and he advanced towards the arm-chair, whereSir Philip Ashton was sitting, attended by Father Cyril and aman-at-arms, and groaning and complaining of his bruises, while at thesame time he ordered the horses to be brought out as speedily aspossible.
"Surely," said Eustace, "you should not be in such haste, Sir Philip. Igrieve that you should have met with this mishap. But you had betterremain here, and try what rest will do for you."
"Remain here!" said Sir Philip, almost shuddering. "Nay, nay, my youngSir, I would not have you to remain here, nor any of us, for longerspace than the saddling of a horse. Alas! alas! my young friend, Igrieve for you. I loved your father well.--Look from the window,Leonard. Are the horses led forth?"
"But why this haste?" asked Sir Eustace. "You are heavilybruised--best let Father Cyril look to your hurts."
"Thanks, Sir Eustace; but--Ah! my back!--but I would not remain underthis roof for more than you could give me. I should but endangermyself without benefiting you. Alas! alas! that I should have fallenupon such a fray! I am sorry for you, my brave youth!"
"I thank you, Sir Philip, but I know not what I have done to deserveyour concern."
"Hot blood! wilful blood!" said Sir Philip, shaking his head. "Are thehorses come? Here! your hand, Leonard, help me to rise--Ah! ah! not sofast--Oh! I shall never get over it! There--mind you, I did all toprevent this unhappy business--I am clear of it! Fare you well, SirEustace--take an old man's advice, give up the boy, and leave thecountry before worse comes of it."
"What is likely to come of it?" said Eustace; "Clarenham made anuncalled-for, unjust, shameless attempt to seize the person of my ward.I repelled him by force of arms, and I think he would scarce like tocall the attention of justice to his own share in the matter."
"Ah! well, you speak boldly, but before you have reached my years, youwill have learnt what it is to have for your foe the most mighty man ofthe county--nay, of the court; for your foe, Lord de Clarenham, is inclose friendship with the Earl of Pembroke. Beware, my young friend,beware!"
When the hall was clear of guests, a council was held between theKnight, the Priest, and the two Esquires. Its result was, thatArthur's person, as the most important point, should be secured, by hisuncle carrying him at once to the Prince's protection at Bordeaux; butit was only with difficulty that Eustace was prevailed on to fly, as hesaid, from his accusers. The good Father had to say, with a smile,that after all there was as much need for patience and submission underthe helm as under the cowl, before Eustace at length consented. Cyrilmeanwhile was to lay the case before the Chancellor, William ofWykeham, and Eustace gave him letters to the Duke of Lancaster and toSir Richard Ferrars, in the hopes of their recommending his suit.
Eustace then received from the hands of the Priest a bag of gold coins,his portion as a younger son, part of which he gave to be distributedin alms, part he still confided to Father Cyril's keeping, and the resthe was to take away for present needs--and they parted for the lastnight of his brief stay at Lynwood Keep.
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