I know no labour of the body which fatigues so much as agitation of the mind; but the fatigue which it produces is very often of that kind which refuses repose. The mind, in its immortality, does not so easily yield to slumber as its death-doomed companion. More than an hour passed ere Iola slept; but, when she did sleep, it was with the calm and tranquil repose of youth and innocence. Fears she might feel; strong emotions might affect her; dangers, anxieties, and cares she might undergo; but there was no evil act to be regretted, no evil thought to be combatted. The worm that dieth not was not in the heart. The fire that cannot be quenched had not passed upon the brain. She slept sweetly, tranquilly then; and daylight found her sleeping still.
The light-hearted country girl, who lay on the small bed at her feet, slept quietly too; but she had her accustomed hour of waking, and, at that hour, she rose. Her moving in the room roused Iola; and on being informed of the hour, though it was an early one, she said she would rise too, that she might be ready for whatever course Chartley chose to follow. Her toilet was nearly complete, and the girl had left the room some minutes, when she suddenly returned with a look of alarm, saying:
"Oh, lady, there is that terrible-looking black man at the door, insisting to speak with you."
Iola waited not to hear more, though the girl was going on to tell her that the whole house was in confusion, but sprang to the door and threw it open, demanding,
"What is it, Ibn Ayoub?"
"There is danger, lady," said the Arab. "My lord gave me charge to guard you to Lichfield in case of strife; and strife is coming."
"But where is your lord?" demanded Iola, with eager alarm in her tone and look.
"It is not known," replied the Arab. "He rode out this morning alone, it is supposed to visit some posts, or see for the men not yet come up. But he commanded me yesterday to guard you safely to Lichfield in any hour of peril. That hour is now. The Lord Stanley with a large force is marching on us; and our people are parlying with his, at the end of the village. They say they will give admission to none, till our lord's return; and Lord Stanley says he will force them. Throw on your hood, lady, and come down. Your horse is ready; and there is a way through the farm into the fields."
Iola hesitated for a moment; and then, looking earnestly in the Arab's face, she demanded:
"Did he say that I was to go?"
"By the beard of the prophet, he did," replied Ibn Ayoub.
At the same moment came the blast of a trumpet from no great distance; and the voice of the master of Chartley's household was heard calling up the stairs, and exclaiming:
"Call the Lady Iola, call the Lady Iola!--Tell her she had better hasten away, out by the other end of the village. Bid her make haste--bid her lose no time."
Iola snatched up her hood from the table; and leaving all the little articles of dress which had been brought with her, scattered about, she hurried down the stairs. All was confusion below; and in vain she tried to obtain some further information concerning Chartley. Most of the men had gone forth at the first news of danger; and there were none but the farmer and his sons, and the master of the household, an elderly and somewhat infirm man, on the lower story. The latter urged her eagerly to fly; and, hurrying into the court at the back of the house, she was soon mounted on the fleet horse which had borne her thither. Ibn Ayoub seized the bridle. One of the young men opened the great gates behind and in a minute or two after, Iola found herself amongst the fields and hedgerows, to the east of Fazely. Those hedgerows were then numerous, and in full leaf, hiding the fugitives from all eyes; and for nearly half an hour, the Arab urged the horses on at a quick pace. At first, just as they issued from the village, a number of loud sounds were borne upon the air; and once again a blast of a trumpet was heard. But gradually the sounds became faint, as Iola rode on; and very soon the calm sweet silence of an early summer morning fell over the scene around. Nought was heard but the beating of the horse's feet upon the road, the lowing of some distant cattle, and the singing of a bird. All was peaceful, except poor Iola's heart; and it beat with manifold agitating sensations.
"Let us go slower, Ibn Ayoub," she said. "We must be out of danger now--at least, out of that danger. Let me think, let me think. At this pace, I seem to leave thought behind me."
"Ay, there is no peril now," said the Arab, in his peculiar Oriental tone; "but yet it were well to reach Lichfield as soon as may be; for there my lord said he would join us."
"But are you sure you are in the way to Lichfield?" asked Iola. "And are you sure, also, that your lord will be able to join us?--Heaven, what will become of me, if he should not?"
"God is good," said the Arab, reverently laying his hand upon his breast, "and fate is unchangeable. This is the road to Lichfield; so I understood them; but every road has an end; and we shall soon see. Yet let us go slowly. I forgot you are not an Arab."
The way was longer however than the good slave thought, and seemed to Iola interminable. Villages were in those days few in the land; and many of the towns now existing were then villages. The road they travelled was evidently a small country road, good enough from the dryness of the season, but little frequented, and furnished with none of that convenient information, which tells the traveller of modern times, by an inscription on a tall post, that he must turn to the right to reach one place, or to the left to reach another. The heat was very great too, oppressing both the horses and the riders which they bore; and gradually the bright clear light of the summer morning began to be obscured. A thin filmy veil was drawn over the sky; and, as if forming themselves out of it, the yellowish outlines of gigantic clouds were seen writhing and twisting themselves into a thousand strange fantastic shapes. There was no wind, and yet they moved, and, gradually piling themselves up, they seemed to climb one over the other, like the Titans in the strife with Heaven.
"We shall have a storm ere night," said the Arab; "and you seem weary and alarmed, lady."
"Alarmed I am, but not for the storm, Ibn Ayoub," replied Iola. "It is for your dear lord, I am alarmed. It is this apprehension makes me feel weary, I believe, and the agitation of our sudden departure. Yet the air is terribly oppressive. I feel as if I could hardly breathe;" and she unclasped the sort of collar, called a gorget, which, at that time, formed a part of every lady's dress.
The Arab smiled. "It has but the feeling of spring to me," he said, "though in your cold clime, doubtless, it seems hot; but we will find some house where you can get refreshment and a few minutes repose."
"We may obtain information," said Iola; "and that is of more importance. I can very well ride on to Lichfield. It was but six miles, I think they said, from Fazely. By this time, we ought to have seen it, I think."
"True, we have travelled more than six miles," said the man; "but yet all seems clear. Nay, there is a house there. I see the roof peeping over the hill; and this must be, the gate leading up to it."
They turned along the little farm road, which they saw winding through two neighbouring fields, sloping upwards towards the west; and, as they rose upon the little hill, they attained a more distinct view of a good sized farmer's or franklin's house, with the low sheds and barns, which were then common in England.
"You go first and speak to them, lady," said Ibn Ayoub. "My skin frightens them--as if it needed to be washed in milk, to have a true heart."
He spoke from experience; and, judging that he was probably right, Iola rode on to the door, and called to a girl, who was carrying a milk-pail through the passage. She instantly set down the pail, and came running out to speak with the beautiful lady who called to her; but the moment she cast her eyes beyond Iola, to the face and figure of Ibn Ayoub, she ran back into the house with a scream. An elder woman, however, appeared in her place, with a frank good-humoured countenance, to whom Iola explained that she had come from Fazely, intending to go to Lichfield, but that, from the distance they had travelled without finding the city, she judged they must have made some mistake.
"Mistake, sweet lady! ay, marry, have you," answered the good woman. "Why, you are within four miles of Castle Bromwich, and I don't know how far from Lichfield--fourteen miles, we reckon; and they are good long ones, as I know. But you look tired and pale. Won't you come in and rest? That foolish child was frightened at your tawny Moor; but I'll warrant she'll soon be playing with his golden bracelets."
Iola had turned pale, to find that she was so far distant from the place of her destination. She feared, too, that in so long a ride as was now before her, she might fall in with some parties of the troops that were crossing the country; and, judging that she might obtain some information for her guidance at the farm, she accepted the good woman's offer, and dismounted. Ibn Ayoub led the horses round to a stall at the back of the house; and Iola was soon seated in the kitchen of the cottage, with milk and eggs before her, and the good dame pressing her to her food. There is something in graceful sweetness of manner, which wins upon the rudest and most uncultivated. But the good farmer's wife was not so. By character kind and cheerful, nature had taught her the best sort of courtesy, and to it had been added an education superior to that of many in her own rank. She could read, and she could write, which was more than one half of the class above her own could do; and she had lived in towns before she married a farmer, which had rendered her polished in comparison with others. It was with the kindness of her heart, however, that Iola had most to do; for there was so much frank sincerity in her hospitality, that Iola was encouraged to place some sort of confidence in her, and to ask her advice as to her farther course. The opportunity of so doing was easily found; for the good woman herself was not without that share of curiosity which is almost uniformly found amongst persons leading a very solitary life; and she asked full as many questions as it was discreet to put. Amongst the rest, how it happened that a lady, like Iola, was going to Lichfield, with only one man to guard her, and he a tawny Moor?
"There were plenty of men to guard me this morning," replied Iola; "but Fazely was menaced by a large body of troops, which the people about me judged to be enemies; and I was advised to fly as fast as possible, with the good Arab, who is a faithful and devoted attendant of----"
There Iola paused and hesitated, not knowing how to conclude her sentence, without calling forth inquiries or perhaps exciting suspicions, which might be difficult to answer, and unpleasant to endure. But the good woman saved her all pain on the subject.
"There, never mind names," she said. "These are not times for people travelling to give their names. It may be your husband, it may be your brother, you are talking of; but it is all the same to me. So then, there are two sets of them at Fazely, are there I heard of some people having mustered there from the west, three or four days ago; but I did not know there were any others marching up. Are you aware, dear lady--nay, do take another egg; you want refreshment, I can see--are you aware that the earl of Richmond and all his people are at this time in Lichfield?"
"No, I was not," answered Iola; "but, nevertheless, I must get forward thither as fast as I can; for there I am to be met by those to whom I must look for assistance and protection; and what I now fear is encountering any of the bands of lawless soldiers, who are now roaming about the land."
"Ay, marry, 'tis to be feared you do, riding so lonely. Why, Castle Bromwich was full of Sir William Stanley's people; but the greater part moved on yesterday to Atherston; two thousand goodly men as you would wish to see, they tell me; one half of them in armour of plate. I know not whether any were left behind, but 'tis very likely; for there is generally what they call a rear guard. Then there are the king's troops moving from Tamworth towards Leicester. They were to go yesterday. I don't know whether they did. As for that matter, Sir William's are the king's troops too, I suppose."
This intelligence did not serve to cheer Iola very much, for it only showed her, more forcibly than ever, the difficulty she might meet with, in trying to escape from that circle of military operations which were taking place all around her; and, for a moment or two, she looked so disconsolate, that the good woman's pity was moved.
"Ah, poor thing," she said, "I wish I knew what I could do for you. You are too young, and too gentle, to be exposed to such sort of things. Now, I warrant you, you have seldom stretched your limbs on a hard bed, or eaten homely fare like ours."
"Oh yes, I have, often," replied Iola, with a gayer smile than she had ever assumed since she entered the house; "and very happy was I when I did so."
"But you are a lady by birth?" said the good woman, with a doubtful look.
"Oh yes," replied the fair girl, "I am the heiress of a high house, my good dame; more's the pity."
"Ay, why more's the pity?" asked the farmer's wife.
"Because flies will come where there is honey," answered Iola; "and many a one seeks riches who cares little for love."
"True, very true," replied the other, with a sigh. "I wish I could help you, dear lady; but I know not how. They took all our horses and carts yesterday, and the men with them, and my husband too, to carry over the baggage of Sir William's troops to Atherston. If my man had been at home, he would have told you what to do soon enough; for he has got a head, I'll warrant."
"Let us call in the slave, and consult with him," said Iola. "He is faithful and honest; and we trust him much."
Ibn Ayoub was accordingly sought for, and found in the farm-yard, where he had already made such progress in overcoming the prejudices of the farmer's daughter, that she had brought him a bowl of milk with her own hands. Although he spoke English but imperfectly, and understood less what others said than they understood him, his questions soon elicited from the good farmer's wife and her daughter, who followed him into the room, much more intelligence than Iola had obtained. The girl told them, that people from Bromwich had been seeking more carts that morning, that a band of Sir William Stanley's men had arrived at the town by daybreak, and were to depart at noon, or before, if they could get carriage. The farmer's wife remembered, too, that one body of them was likely to pass along the very road upon which she had been about to direct Iola towards Lichfield.
"Can we learn when they have gone by?" asked Ibn Ayoub, in his laconic way.
"Then we could go on at once, when the way is clear," said Iola.
"That were easily done," said the farmer's wife. "The road is not very far. We have a field that overlooks it."
"Send the little cow-boy to feed the cattle by Conyer's copse," suggested the daughter. "There he will see them all pass; and, my life for it, he will go down and talk with some of the archers, and learn what they are doing, and all about it."
"'Tis a good way," said Ibn Ayoub. "Let him not know why he is sent, lest he tell as well as ask."
Such was the course followed. With his dinner put into his wallet, the boy was sent to drive the cattle from the pasture where they were feeding, to that which overlooked the road; and he was strictly enjoined, if any soldiers went by, and asked whether there were carts or waggons at the farm, to say, no, they had gone to Atherston and not returned, and to come back and tell when they had passed. Iola, it was arranged, should remain where she was, till it was ascertained that this body at least had gone by; and when she made some faint excuse for intruding so long upon the good dame's hospitality, her hostess laughed, saying--
"Bless thee, my child, if 'twere for a month, thou art welcome. So thou art safe, I do not care. Come, Jenny, you've got the churning to do; and I have to make the cakes."
All that frank and simple kindness could do, during the next three or four hours, was done by the good woman of the house, to make her fair guest comfortable and at ease. Amongst the most painful periods of life, however, are those when thought and feeling are compelled to strive against each other for the mastery, when the heart is filled with deep emotions, and yet the external things of life are pressing upon the brain for attention and consideration. Such was now Iola's situation, as she sat meditating upon how she should make her way to Lichfield, through all the difficulties and dangers which surrounded her, while her heart was filled with anxiety for Chartley, and for the result of the struggle which she believed might be going on at Fazely.
Twelve o'clock, one, two, three o'clock came; and the cow-boy did not return. At last, somewhat anxious in regard to his absence, the farmer's daughter set forth herself to see for him. She found him in the very act of watching a small body of troops, passing from castle Bromwich towards Atherston; and, having looked along the road as far as she could see, she returned to the farm to make her report. It was now agreed that Iola, and her attendant, should still remain for half an hour, as the girl had seen a number of stragglers on the road; and while Ibn Ayoub went to prepare the horses, the good dame endeavoured, to the best of her power, to give Iola an accurate notion of the various paths she was to follow, to reach Lichfield by the least dangerous roads. Iola bent all her attention to her lesson; but, at length, she suddenly interrupted the good woman in her detail, saying--
"Oh, I know that spot well, where there are the three stone mounting steps, and the great cross above them. One road leads to St. Clare, of Atherston, and the other to Tamworth."
"And the little one on the left straight to Lichfield," replied the good woman. "It is the same distance from each, just seven miles and a furlong. If you were to go on the Tamworth road, you would have Fazely close upon your left. As you go to Lichfield, you will leave it four miles upon your right."
The horses were soon after brought round. The adieus were spoken. The good farmer's wife would receive no recompense for the entertainment which she had afforded to Iola. But a small brooch, which the lady took from her hood, and bestowed upon the daughter, was more than compensation for everything but the kindness and tenderness which nothing could repay; and, with a motherly blessing upon her head, as she departed, Iola waved her hand, and once more rode upon her journey.
On the evening of the nineteenth of August, and at the hour of half-past six, was seen riding alone, through the woodland, then lying about three miles to the right of the direct road from Lichfield to Tamworth, a gentleman mounted on a powerful black horse. No pleasant ride was it he was taking; for by this time, one of those violent thunder storms which so frequently interrupt the brief course of an English summer, and which were both more severe and more frequent when the land was better wooded than it is at present, had broke upon the earth, after it had been menacing in the sky all the morning. I am fond of describing thunder storms, having watched many a one in all its changes for hours; and there is infinite variety in them too, so that a dozen might be described, and no two alike; but, as I have done so more than once before, I would certainly have said nothing of this storm, had it not been an historical one, and connected with an incident of some interest in English history. Suffice it, however, that the thunder seemed to shake the very earth, rattling amongst the trees of the forest as if immense masses of stone had been cast through them by some tremendous engine. The lightning gleamed all around, before, behind, overhead, in amongst the trees, under the green leaves and boughs seeming to display for an instant all the dark recesses of the forest, as if they had been suddenly lighted up by a thousand torches, and then leaving them in blacker shade than before. For the roar of the thunder, for the flash of the lightning, that traveller would have cared very little; but for the increasing darkness of the day, which seemed to anticipate the setting of the sun, and for the deluge which poured from the sky, drenching himself, his horse, and his accoutrements, he did care. Had there been any wind, the rain would have been blinding; but it came pouring down in such torrents, straight, even, unceasing, that what between the failing light, the vapour rising from the hot ground, and the incessant dark drops, it was impossible to see for more than a hundred or a hundred and fifty yards along the road.
Yet the traveller turned his head often as he rode, looking hither and thither, wherever any opening in the wood appeared; and he went slowly too, as if he were in no haste, or uncertain of the way. Still, as he proceeded, he murmured to himself.
"This is most unfortunate. Perhaps 'twere better to go back; and yet, in this blinding deluge, I might again miss the road, and wander Heaven knows whither. What will they think too? Would to Heaven I had brought the boy with me! True, he never was in this place in his life before, any more than myself; but he seemed to have an instinct in finding his way."
He rode on for about ten minutes more, and then exclaimed joyfully:
"There are some felled trees! There may be a woodman's cottage or some forest but near--a horse, upon my life, and a woman's garments under that shed. Woman, with all her faults, is ever a friend to the distressed, a help in the time of peril;" and, turning his horse out of the path, he rode quickly over some cleared ground, man[oe]uvring skilfully amongst the felled trees and stumps with which the spot was encumbered.
His course was directed towards a little open shed, into one side of which the rain drove furiously; but immediately in the way, at the distance of only a few feet from the shed itself, was a deep sawpit, at either end of which were piles of timber, which he could not pass without going round. Just opposite, however, under the partial shelter which the shed afforded, was the form he had seen from the road; and close by was the horse, a beautiful animal of pure Arab blood, covered with splendid housings of velvet and gold, which were getting soaked in the descending deluge. All that he could see of the woman was, that, in figure, she was slight and graceful; for her hood was drawn far over her head; and she stood in the farther part of the shed to avoid the rain as much as possible. Her riding-suit, however, spoke no lowly station; and it was with a tone of gentlemanly deference that the stranger accosted her.
"Pardon me for addressing you, lady," he said; "for necessity compels me to do so; and yet I fear, from finding you taking refuge here, that my application will be fruitless. I have lost my way in this wood; and I would fain know if I am near Tamworth, or if there be any place where I can obtain shelter in the neighbourhood."
"You are far from Tamworth," said a sweet musical voice, "five or six miles at least; and as to shelter, I have just sent an attendant to see if there be any better place than this within a short distance. I, myself, am not aware of any. He will be back immediately," she added; "for I told him not to go far."
Perhaps there was a little apprehension in the latter part of her reply; for, although the dress of the stranger was that of a high rank, and his demeanour courteous, yet still he was a stranger; and, to say truth, his features and expression, though not marked by any violent passions, and hardly to be called repulsive, were not altogether prepossessing.
"If you will permit me," he said, "I will wait till your attendant returns, and crave a part of the roof that covers you."
What she replied he did not hear; for, at that instant, there was a bright flash of lightning, which caused her to hide her eyes with her hand, followed instantly by a tremendous roar of the thunder that drowned every other sound. Before the rattling peal had ceased, for it seemed to go round and round the whole sky, the stranger was by her side, dismounted, and tying his horse at some distance from her own; and Iola, with her eyes unshrouded, was examining his appearance attentively. He was a man in the prime of life, tall and well formed, but spare in person, and somewhat thin in face. The features were good, but somewhat stern in character, with a forehead broad and high, and a slight wrinkle between the brows. The whole expression was grave and thoughtful, with a slight touch of shrewdness, and a cold, inquiring, calculating eye. The second look, however, was more satisfactory to Iola than the first had been. That grave, even stern, looking man, was far more acceptable to her, as a companion at that moment, than one of the gay light flutterers of the court would have been. When his horse had been secured, the stranger pulled off his hat, which was of a foreign fashion, and shook the wet from the broad border and the plume; and then, turning to the lady, he said:
"I fear I break in upon your privacy; but I am sure your kindness will forgive it, and trust that, if you have it in your power to give me any information or direction, you will do so. Your own heart will thank you; for it will be indeed a charity, and I shall be most grateful."
"I know nothing of your need, sir," replied Iola. "All you have told me is your wish to reach Tamworth, which is far. If you will tell me what other information you may want, I will give it willingly, though I know but little with any certainty."
"Business of importance, indeed, carries me to Tamworth," he answered; "and I ought to have been there ere now; but we live in dangerous times, and the country is in a troublous state, so that at every step one may stumble upon some body of hostile troops."
"That is true," replied Iola; "for I am seeking, myself, to get beyond these two lines of adversaries. If I knew which you had to fear, perhaps I might give you information."
The stranger smiled. "Can you not tell me, in general terms, what you know of the two armies?" he asked. "Then I may be able to judge."
"You fear to speak your faction to me," answered Iola; "and therein you do me wrong; for, believe me, if you were king Richard himself, I would not betray you to your enemy; nor, if the earl of Richmond, to king Richard. Yet, perhaps, you are wise to keep your own counsel."
"I have always found it so," said the other, with a laugh. "Not that I doubt you, dear lady; for you do not look like one who would injure any one. But you can, as I have said, tell me generally."
"Well, then, I learn," said Iola, "that the king is at Leicester with a large force, the earl of Richmond at Lichfield; Sir William Stanley, on his march to join the king, moved yesterday to Atherston and the Lord Stanley sought to pass through Fazely this morning, just between us and Tamworth. Whether he passed or not I cannot tell."
"Retiring before the earl of Richmond's army," said the stranger, musing. "But why think you he did not pass?"
"Because there were other troops in the village," answered Iola, "some three or four hundred men, I learned, under the Lord Chartley."
"Then is Chartley at Fazely?" exclaimed the other, with a glad look. "How far is Fazely hence, dear lady?"
"About three or four miles, I am told," answered Iola; "but I know not that Lord Chartley is there now. When I came thence this morning, the troops of Lord Stanley demanded admission, and were refused. Strife was likely to ensue; and I was told to fly and seek safety at Lichfield."
"Then now I know who you are," said the stranger, taking her hand; "the Lady Iola St. Leger. Is it not so? I am a friend of Lord Chartley's; and he wrote, to me, that he and you would be at Lichfield to-night."
Iola blushed, she hardly knew why, and, when the thunder had ceased echoing, replied,
"You have guessed right, sir; but I knew not that Lord Chartley had written to any one. May I not know your name?"
The stranger paused for a moment thoughtfully, and then answered, "You will think me discourteous; but yet, methinks, the rule I have laid down it were best to adhere to. Much depends upon prudence in my case; and it were better to be over discreet than rash."
"Then, my good lord, I know you too," replied Iola, with one of her gay looks, beaming up for an instant, and then disappearing again like a meteor over the night sky. "Shall I tell you whom I believe you to be?"
"No," replied the stranger. "That might make me more discourteous still, and neither answer yes or no to your surmise. But deal with me merely as a friend of the Lord Chartley's, who wishes him well--as one linked in the same cause with him, whose enemies are his enemies, and let me hear anything you may judge necessary for me to know."
"I am quite sure I am right," answered Iola; "although it is a mystery to me how you came hither alone, unattended, and certainly in a place of danger."
"Good faith, it is a mystery to me too," replied the other; "but a simple mystery, dear lady, and a foolish one. The truth is, I lost my way. Now tell me, think you, from what you know, that I can cross safely from this place to Tamworth?"
"No, indeed, my lord," replied Iola. "Lord Stanley's troops are most likely in possession of Fazely; for I much fear that Lord Chartley's men would be soon overpowered."
"Then why did Chartley refuse to let him pass?" demanded the stranger. "All that Stanley could desire was to retreat in peace; but he was compelled to clear a passage, at any risk, otherwise the earl's army would cut him off from the king's host."
"Lord Chartley was not there," said Iola. "He had gone forth, they informed me, early in the morning, and had not then returned; but I can tell you little of the matter, for orders had been left to hurry me away in case of danger. However, if even you could pass Fazely, and could reach Tamworth, you would be in more danger still: for parties of the king's troops were in possession of that place at a late hour last night."
"They have been removed farther back," said the stranger, nodding his head significantly; "and Stanley is in full retreat too, if this unfortunate affair has not delayed him. Yet, it would be dangerous to attempt to pass," he continued, musing; "for there is something strange here; and one error were fatal. I must have farther intelligence before I act."
"I trust we may have some soon," answered Iola; "for I know the slave will not return without gathering tidings, if it be possible to get them. I wish he would come, for, though it thunders less, the evening is growing dark."
"Be not alarmed," replied the stranger. "As far as one arm can, I will protect you, lady. I hold that point of chivalry to be the great and most essential one, without which valour is the mere brute courage of a bull, that teaches us to right the wronged, and to protect the weak."
"I trust you are reserved for nobler things than even that, my lord," replied Iola, "and would not have you risk your life in my defence. 'Tis only that I may have to ride to Lichfield, through this dark stormy night which makes me fear."
"Better not ride to Lichfield, at all," replied the stranger, "for Lord Chartley's plans must have been altered by one circumstance or another. He knew not yesterday that the earl of Richmond was to be at Tamworth this night."
"I am but as a soldier, noble lord," replied Iola, with a faint smile, "and must obey my orders. But, hark! I hear a horse's feet--my faithful Arab, come to bring me news."
"God send the tidings be good," said her companion; and, advancing to the other end of the shed, he exclaimed: "Heaven, what is this? In this twilight, it seems like a spectre in a shroud!"
The next instant Ibn Ayoub rode up to the side of the shed, and sprang to the ground casting the bridle free upon his horse's neck. He glared for an instant at the stranger, with his black eyes flashing with eagerness; and, then turning to Iola, he put his hand upon his head, saying: "I have been long, lady; but, I could not help it. There is neither house nor hut, for a mile and a half; and Heaven was sending down streams of fire and water all the way."
"But what news from Fazely, Ibn Ayoub? What news from Fazely?" asked Iola, eagerly.
The Arab gave a glance to the stranger, and she added: "Speak, speak! You may speak freely. This gentleman is a friend. I know him."
"Well, then, lady, bad news," answered the Arab. "Lord Stanley had taken the place, and gone on to Atherston. His rear guard hold it still, however."
"But was there strife?" asked Iola, in eager terror.
"No," answered the Arab. "They dealt in words it seems; and when they found that this lord had two thousand men and they but three hundred, they gave up the place, upon condition that they might have half an hour to go whithersoever they would."
"But your lord, your lord?" asked Iola. "Had you no tidings of him?"
"God is good; I heard not of him," said Ibn Ayoub. "The woman of the house is all for king Richard, and could talk of nought but what Lord Stanley did, and told me how Lord Fulmer's force had marched out of Tamworth, going to join the king, and now lay a few miles off at a place they call Pondhead."
"What shall we do then?" demanded Iola, in a tone of fear and bewilderment. "I know not where Pondhead is; and it may lie straight in our way to Lichfield."
"You had better come to that house," said Ibn Ayoub, "and rest there for the night. The woman has a heart, though as turned the wrong way; and the lad, her son, seems a good youth. When I told her a lady was here in the wood, she cried out at once to bring you there for shelter, and offered all her house could afford, without asking whether you were for the king or the earl. I told her afterwards, indeed, that your uncle was at the court, and high in favour. I would not tell a lie; but that was the truth and could do no harm."
"Much good," said the stranger, now joining in the conversation for the first time. "I fear this storm will last all night; and you must have shelter. So, indeed, must I, for I must not venture rashly to Tamworth till I hear more. I will now seek a boon at your hands. Let me go with you, as one of your attendants. Pass me as such on the good woman of the house--"
"You, my lord--you!" cried Iola; "will you venture thither?"
"Even so," he answered, calmly, "if you will so far favour me as to take me with you. I may return the kindness another day. If you have any fear, however, that I may bring danger on you, I will not go."
"Oh no, 'twas not for that I feared," replied Iola. "'Twas the great risk to yourself. I thought of."
"No great risk, I trust," answered the other. "My face will not betray me in this part of the world: The night is too nigh for strangers to come in; and what this good man has said will smooth the way for us. I can talk deftly of the good Lord Calverly, and speak of Richard's overwhelming force, and Richmond's little band, as calm and scornfully as Lovell or Catesby, nor ever seem to think that right and justice, and God's vengeful strength, can make head against a glittering army and a kingly crown. Let us go on. I can play my part well. Do not forget yours, however. Speak to me, order me as a gentleman of your uncle's household, and, above all forget the words 'my lord.' This night, at least, we will dry our garments by the fire.--To-morrow, my resting place may be a damper one."
"But by what name shall I call you?" asked Iola.
"Call me Harry--Harry Vane," answered her companion; "but, I beseech you, remember that all depends on care and prudence; and if I make any mistake in my due service, rate me well. Be a mere shrew towards me for this night, though you be gentle as a dove, to my good friend Lord Chartley."
With many doubts and apprehensions, Iola yielded to the plan, and, mounting her horse, rode through the still pouring rain, with the stranger by her side and Ibn Ayoub directing them on the way. Many things were arranged as they went, and the good Arab cautioned, which indeed he did not require. They did not reach the door of the house, to which he led them, before the sun had completely set; but as they turned towards the west, they saw a golden gleam on the horizon's edge, and showing that the storm was breaking away.
Timidly, Iola opened the door of the house, which was a large one for the times and the class of people to which it belonged, while the Arab gathered the bridles of the horses on his arm, and the stranger followed a step behind the lady. The scene within alarmed her more than ever; for it was not like the little quiet farm house she had visited in the morning. The outer door opened at once into the kitchen, a large dingy room well grimed with smoke; and round a table sat three or four stout, heavy-looking, countrymen, together with a handsome youth, somewhat better dressed, while two or three young girls were working busily at various household matters, and a stout dame, with gown tucked up, was taking off, with her own hands, a heavy pot, from a hook that suspended it above the fire.
"Hey, mother, mother!" cried the young man, turning round his head, "here's the lady the brown man told you of."
"Ha," said the good woman, setting down the pot and gazing at Iola with a look of wonder, either at her beauty or the richness of her apparel. "Well, I wot you are not fit, my lady, to pass the night in woods and thunderstorms."
"No, indeed," answered Iola. "One of my attendants told me you would kindly give me shelter for the night, and I will most gladly pay for any accommodation I receive. I was making my way to Lichfield, thinking to escape from all these scenes of strife; but it is too late, I find, to go on."
"Ay, that it is," answered the bluff dame; and, at the same moment, the stranger whispered--
"A prouder tone, a prouder tone."
"Set me a seat by the fire, Harry Vane," said Iola, with a somewhat queenly manner; "and then call in the slave. He is wetter than we are."
The stranger hastened to obey; and the good woman of the house laid fresh wood upon the fire, aided to remove Iola's hood and cloak, and offered all attention.
The loftier tone had its effect; for it is a sad truth, that nothing is obtained in this world--not even respect--without exaction. Modest merit! alack and a well-a-day, who seeks for it? and, if not sought, it cannot be found. One's pretensions should ever be a little more than one's right--not too much indeed, for then, we shock our great chapman, the world--but always enough to allow for abatement. The world will always make it; and such is worldly wisdom.
However that may be, there was no lack of kindness and hospitality. The guests were entertained with the best which the house afforded; the horses were fed and tended under Ibn Ayoub's own eye, for they were to him as children; and the good dame and her daughters busied themselves to provide for Iola's comfort, tendering dry garments of their own, with many apologies for their coarseness, and admissions that they were unfit for such a great lady to wear.
While she was absent from the room, submitting to these cares, her son conversed with the stranger; and even the ploughmen joined in to ask questions concerning the movements of the armies, and their probable result. He played his part well, and with a shrug of the shoulders said, nobody could tell what might be the event. Richmond's army was but a pitiful handful, it was true; but it was increasing daily, and if the king did not force him to a battle soon, the two hosts might be nearly equal. Then again, he added, suspicions were entertained that some of the great nobles were not well affected to the king.
"Why does not the earl of Northumberland bring up his forces?" he asked. "It is well known that he could lead six or seven thousand men into the field; and there they are, either lingering in the North, or advancing by such slow marches, that a dozen battles might be fought while they are on the way. For my part, I hold it better not to be over zealous for any one. None can tell who may win at this rough game of war; and the lower ones are always losers. If we take the luckless side, then we have fines and confiscations for our pains, and if we help the winner we get but cold thanks, when he has secured the game. I will have nought to do with it, and was right glad when I was sent to guard my young lady to Lichfield."
About an hour and a half was passed, in a hurried desultory kind of way, and then Iola sought repose. The stranger was provided with a bed in a room below, and a sleeping-place was offered to Ibn Ayoub in a room over the stables. He would not use it, however; but, bringing in some dry straw, he placed it across Iola's door, and there lay down to rest. There might be a struggle in his mind, between her and the horses; but duty won the day.
For the next six hours Iola rested indeed, but slept little; for the spirit was busy if the body found repose. Whatever faith and trust in God may do, we all know that there are sufferings to be endured, from which our mortal nature shrinks, evils to be undergone that wring the heart of clay; and though 'twere wiser never to dream they may be, till they are, importunate experience will not let us rest in such bright though fanciful security. If imagination be vivid, all probable, all possible ills are called up to frighten us. If reason be predominant, still we count the numbers of those enemies, to meet them as we may. Iola's thoughts were of Chartley all the night long. Waking, she tormented herself with doubt and apprehension for his safety, and sleeping, she dreamed of him, and fancied he was in captivity or dead. It was a relief to her when morning dawned; and she rose. The house was soon in all the busy bustle of a country life, and people were heard coming and going long before Iola had quitted her room.
When at length she went down, however, she found all the men absent on their work; and the first greeting of the good dame was, "Ah, lady, lucky you stopped here, or you might have been caught. The earl of Richmond and his rabble are all in Tamworth and the villages round. Fazely is full of his men; and Lord Stanley has retreated to Atherston. However, if you go on the road you were travelling, you will now get to Lichfield quite safe; for they march on quite orderly 'tis said; more so than our own people do, indeed."
"How many are there?" asked Iola. "Have you heard?"
"Well, nigh twenty thousand men, they say," replied the good woman; "but there is never believing such tales. Now, I will help you to break your fast in a minute, and send you on your way; for there is no knowing whether we may not have some of the rebels here before long."
"Where are my servants?" asked Iola. "They must have some food too."
"Oh, they will come, they will come," said the dame. "They are looking to the horses. Mag, go and call them."
The meal was soon despatched, the horses brought round, and Iola's purse produced to make payment for her entertainment. Here it was not refused; for the mistress of the house was a prudent and careful person, who lost no opportunity of taking money where she could.
They rode away with many adieus and wishes for their fair journey, and the morning was bright and clear. But as soon as they had reached the public road again, Iola checked her horse, saying, "Ride on a few yards, Ibn Ayoub;" and then, turning to the stranger, she added, "I know not whether the information is to be depended on, my lord; but the good woman told me just now, that the earl of Richmond's army is at Tamworth, and the villages round, even at Fazely. All king Richard's troops are withdrawn, she says. So, if you can trust her report, your way is clear."
"I saw a peasant come in from the north with a load of wood," said the stranger; "but I did not venture either to stay or ask any questions; for the man eyed me strongly. Be the tale true or false, however, the result must be risked. I can be no longer absent. To you, dear lady, I have to return my most sincere thanks, for giving me what aid you could in a very dangerous situation."
"Speak not of that, my lord," replied Iola; "but yet one word before you go. I am terrified and apprehensive regarding Lord Chartley. I know not what may have befallen him. I do beseech you, if you can find time when you reach Tamworth, inquire into his fate, and should you find him in difficulty, or danger, aid him to the best of your power. It would quiet many a painful thought too, if I could have intelligence at Lichfield."
"I promise you upon my faith and word, dear lady," said her companion, riding closer and kissing her hand; "nought shall be left undone to aid him to the best of my power. Ay, and I will send you news too. So, now farewell; and God's protection be around you."
"And you," said Iola. Thus they parted.[5]