Now the reader must remember that a castle of those days, though fallen from the "high estate" of feudal garrison and constant preparation, was a very different place from a modern house, whether in town or country. Grosvenor Square will give no idea of it; and no country mansion, not even with park wall, and lodge, and iron gates, will assist comprehension in the least. Sir William Arden had to traverse a considerable number of round rubble stones, before he found himself standing under the arch by the porter's dwelling.
The man had just given admission or exit to some one; for he was standing at the wicket with the keys in his hand, gazing forth to the westward, although all trace of the sun's setting had disappeared.
Arden cast his eyes towards the south, in which direction Chartley's tower was situated; but it was not visible from the gate; and, satisfied on that point, the good knight turned to the porter, saying, without any preliminary explanation, to point out the person of whom he was about to speak,
"He has gone to the chaplain's house under the hill, has he not?"
"Yes, honourable sir," replied the porter. "But, by my faith, my lord perhaps reckons without his host; for the good priest calculates upon no marriages, baptisms, or burials, to-night; and he is just the man to forget that such a case may happen, and lay in a share of ale or Bordeaux, too large to let any other thoughts enter."
"Oh, he will be sober enough to work matrimony, though he must not undertake it himself," answered Arden. "Ha, ha, ha!"
The porter laughed too, right joyously, saying, "Jack stopped a minute to tell me his errand; and I could not help laughing, to think how suddenly the matter had come on at last."
And, as he spoke, he hung the enormous bunch of heavy keys up by the side of the door, addressing to them the words, "Ay, you are rusty enough to be spared more labour. Nobody will try to get into the castle now-a-days."
"It would be a hard morsel," answered Arden. "But who are those I saw riding up the hill at so much speed?"
"Heaven knows," replied the porter. "There were only two of them; and we shall soon see what they want if they come here. It does those knaves good to make them wait a little. So, by your leave, worshipful sir, I will go and finish my supper."
Sir William Arden still stood near the gate; and a minute or two after a horn without sounded; and the porter, creeping out of his den once more, came forward to demand, through the little iron grate, who it was that asked admission.
"We must see my Lord Chartley immediately," replied the man. "It is on business of great importance."
"Who are you, and what are you?" demanded the porter; "and who is that old woman in white on horseback? We don't admit any witches here."
These words were addressed to a man bearing the appearance of an ordinary servant, with a badge upon his arm; but the janitor, as he spoke the last words, pointed with his hand to the figure of good Ibn Ayoub, who sat his horse like a statue, while all this was going on, wrapped up in his white shroud-like garments, so that little or nothing of face or person was to be seen.
"I am the lord's slave," said the voice of the Arab, from under the coif-like folds which shrouded his head; "and this is my comrade--what you call a servant in this land of Giaours. Open, and let us through."
"The orders were to admit his servants," said the porter, musing, and turning at the same time partly towards Sir William Arden, as if seeking his counsel.
"Oh, let them in, let them in," said the knight. "Of course, he must have his servants about him. There can be no wrong in that."
The man immediately undid the bolts and bars, giving admission to the two servants, who bowed low when they saw their master's kinsman under the archway; and Arden, turning with them, walked by their side, directing them to the stables.
"Keep your news safe, whatever it is," he said in a low voice to Ibn Ayoub, "or you may do mischief. But stay, I will wait for you, till you come out of the stables."
While the two men were taking in their horses, Sir William Arden examined accurately the low range of building used as the ecury, or cury, as it was sometimes called at Chidlow. It was very extensive, though low, and situated under the wall for protection; but each of the windows, small and high up as they were, were secured by strong iron bars; and there was no means of entrance or exit, but by the large door in the centre, and two smaller ones at the extreme ends, but on the same face.
"Come this way, Ibn Ayoub," said the knight, when the Arab came forth. "I will show you the way to your lord's lodging. Go up to him at once, and beg him to come down to my chamber below, to speak with me on some business of importance. Say, if he meets with obstruction by the way, not to resist, but to return quietly, and I will come to him. You will have to pass three men with partizans on the stairs, who are keeping watch upon the good lord; and they may perchance refuse to let him go forth."
"Then will I put my knife into them," said Ibn Ayoub.
"Softly, softly, wild son of Ismael. Do no such thing, but quietly mark all that happens; and then, when your lord is in his room again, come down to me; but tell him he will see me soon." Such were the good knight's last injunctions to the Arab, who then mounted the stairs of the tower: and immediately after, some words in a sharp tone were spoken above. Sir William Arden listened, and then entered his own apartments, which, as I have elsewhere mentioned, were on the lower story. Two of his servants were in waiting in his ante-room, engaged in the very ancient game of mutton bones. A word from their master however soon sent one of them away, and when he returned, at the end of five minutes, he brought with him four of Chartley's men. Almost at the same moment, Ibn Ayoub returned, saying, with rolling eyes,
"They will not let him pass."
"Never mind, my friend," replied Arden; "remain here with these good men till my return; and then, be all ready with what weapons you have."
The Arab smiled, well pleased with the name of weapons, and bared his sinewy arm up to the elbow. At the end of about five minutes, the knight returned, and, in a calm and easy tone, ordered three of Chartley's servants to go up to their lord, after which he turned to the rest, saying, "now, good fellows, I wish you to understand clearly what I desire to have done; and I command you in nothing to exceed the orders you receive. There are three men on the stairs, keeping guard upon my cousin and friend, Lord Chartley. This is contrary to the orders of the king, and contrary to an express agreement between Lord Chartley and Lord Calverly. I therefore intend to take those three men, and lock them up in the room above, which looks upon the walls, and to keep them there as long as I think proper. There must be no bloodshed, no violence, but what is necessary to force them into that room. You mark me, Ibn Ayoub. The great object is to avoid all noise, which may attract others to the spot. I am not to be disobeyed in anything, remember. Now, some one jump upon that table, and strike the roof twice with his sword."
One of the men sprang up, and obeyed the order; and then, saying "Follow!" Arden went out to the foot of the stairs. He ascended a few steps leisurely, and till sound of voices was heard above.
"You cannot pass, my lord," said some one; "our orders are strict."
"My orders to you are, that you get out of the way," said Chartley; "if not take the consequences. In one word, will you move?"
"My lord, it is impossible; you cannot pass," replied the voice, in a louder and sterner tone; and at the same moment Arden ran rapidly up the steps, followed by his companions, saying, "keep back, Ibn Ayoub. Remember, no violence."
On reaching the little square piece of level flooring, commonly called the landing-place, at Chartley's door, he found three of Lord Calverly's servants with partizans in their hands, in the act of resisting the progress of the young nobleman and his two servants, who seemed determined to make their way out. Now, of all weapons on earth, the most unwieldy and the least fitted for use in a narrow space was the ancient partizan. It might have been employed to advantage, indeed, in preventing Arden from mounting a stairs. But the servants were eagerly occupied with Lord Chartley, who was on the same level with themselves, where they had no room to shorten their weapons, so as to bring the spear points to bear against his breast. One of them looked over his shoulder, indeed, at the sound of feet rushing up, but had they turned to oppose the ascent of Sir William Arden and his party, they exposed themselves at once to attack from Chartley and his two servants. Thus, between Scylla and Charybdis, they were overpowered in a moment, and their weapons taken from them.
One of them then thought fit to say, that they had no intention of offending, and that Lord Chartley might pass. But in profound silence they were hurried into a small room, the windows of which looked towards the walls, and not to the court, where the people of the castle were likely to pass. There the door was locked and barred upon them without any explanation; and Chartley and his friend looked at each other and laughed.
"Now if you will take my advice," said Sir William, addressing his cousin, "you will stay quietly here and not meddle any more. We have got three of them safe; we must have five or six more; and then we shall be in force enough to deal with the rest in a body."
"Out on it!" exclaimed Chartley. "What, shall I stay here like a singing bird in a cage, while you are busily doing my work for me?"
"Hear me, hear me, Chartley," said Sir William, "and don't be a fool," and, drawing him away from the men, he said in a low voice, "remember the king may have to deal with this at some time. Now, for me it is all very well; for I act in the king's name, to stop a marriage to which he has not given his consent. But with you the case is very different, being a prisoner in ward."
"Preach to whom you will, my dear Arden," exclaimed Chartley, "I was not made for sitting still when other men are acting. But I'll be very prudent, on my life. For many reasons, I would not embroil myself with good Lord Calverly, if there be any help for it; and when you deal with him, I'll be your lackey, and wait without, unless I hear I am wanted. In the mean time, however, I must help you to put some of these rats into the rat-trap, and now let us lose no precious moments. Where do you begin? With the porter?"
"No, no," answered Arden. "We must let the priest and the man who is gone for him pass in first, or we shall have an alarm given. Besides, I want to speak with the priest. So you had better take these men, and secure all the fellows in the stables. There must be several of them there now, tending their lord's horses after the ride; for I will answer for it they all supped first. Remember there are three doors; and you have nothing to do but lock each of them. Then you have our men, as you say, in a rat-trap. I, in the mean time, will gather together the rest of our own people, and come to you there, after I have seen and spoken to the priest, and locked up the porter, and any of his men that I can get."
On this briefly sketched out plan they acted, Chartley and his attendants securing, without the slightest difficulty, two of Lord Calverly's grooms, and three of Lord Fulmer's, in the stables, without the prisoners even knowing, at first, that they were locked in. In the mean time, Arden, passing alone through those parts of the castle in which the servants generally congregated, gathered together two or three of Chartley's men, who had not previously been summoned, sent one of them to call the rest quietly out into the court, and then proceeded towards the porter's lodging, followed at a little distance by two of the men. In crossing the court towards the gateway, he found that he was just in time; for the priest had hastened with reverent diligence to obey Lord Calverly's summons; and he was already half way between the barbican gate and the great door of the hall. Arden stopped him, however, saying, "Ay, good evening, father, I am glad to see you; for I want to put to you a case of conscience."
"Holy Mary, I cannot stop now, my son," cried the priest; "for I have been summoned by my good lord in haste."
"What, is he ill? Is he dying? Are you going to shrive him?" exclaimed Arden, with affected apprehension, still standing in the priest's way.
"No, no," cried the worthy man, impatiently; "'tis but to marry the Lady Iola to the Lord Fulmer. The hour is ten; and 'tis coming fast."
"Not so, not so," said Arden; "'tis not yet half past nine; and I must have my doubt resolved before you go."
"Then speak it quick," cried the priest, sharply. "You should choose fitter times."
"'Tis but this," said Arden, with a smile. "If a man see another about to do a wrong thing, and one which may produce great danger to himself, is it a sin to stop him, even by force?"
"A sin!" exclaimed the priest, with a not very decent interjection, common in those days, but which cannot be admitted there; "no sin at all, but a good work. There, let me pass."
Arden made way and walked on, laughing, to the gate, where he found the porter just entering his own abode, and saying good night to one of the servants, who had been sitting with him.
"Why, you have not closed the gates for the night, have you, porter?" said Arden, standing in the door-way of the lodge, so as to oppose the egress of either of the two.
"Yes, indeed, I have, worshipful sir," replied the man.
"Why, the priest will have to go forth," said Arden.
"Not he," cried the porter, with a laugh, which was echoed by the other servant. "After he has done his function, he'll get as drunk as a fiddler, and sleep on one of the truckle beds. I should not wonder if I had him here knocking for accommodation; but he shall not have it."
As he spoke, he deliberately hung the keys upon a peg, just at the side of the door.
"These are large keys," said Sir William, taking them down, to the man's surprise, and fixing in his own mind upon the one which he supposed to belong to the door of the lodge.
"Yes, they are, sir," answered the porter, somewhat gruffly. "Be pleased to give them to me. I never suffer them out of my hands."
"Back, knave! Would you snatch them from me," exclaimed Arden, thrusting him vehemently back; and the next moment he pulled the door to, by the large bowed handle, and applied the key to the lock. It did not prove the right one, however; and he had some difficulty in holding the door close, against the united efforts of the two men in the inside, till he had found one to fit the keyhole.
Chartley's men, however, had been trained to activity and vigilance, in travelling with their lord; and the two who had followed Sir William Arden, seeing a little bustle, and the light from the lodge suddenly shut out, sprang forward to the knight's assistance. The door was then soon locked; and, speaking through it, Sir William Arden said, "Now, saucy porter, I shall keep you there for a couple of hours, for attempting to snatch the keys from me."
The man was heard remonstrating and bellowing in the inside; but, without paying any attention, Sir William hastened back towards the stables, leaving the keys hanging in the doorway of the porter's tower. In the stable court, as it was called, he found Chartley himself, with eight companions; and a brief consultation ensued as to the next step.
"How many have you got under lock and key in the stable?" demanded Arden.
"Five at least," replied Chartley.
"Then there are five in your lodging and at the gate," said Arden, "That makes ten in all. Allowing five for cooks and stragglers, we are their superior in numbers, and a good deal their superior, I should think, in the use of arms. Now let us go on. Hold back. Let that fellow pass towards the kitchen."
"Had we not better go by the great hall?" said Chartley, as soon as one of the servants of the house had crossed the other side of the court. "We can secure any men who may be there."
"No, no," said Arden. "Leave all the management to me. I have promised there shall be no bloodshed; and I do not want even to show any force, unless it be needful. Let us go in by the back way, and up to the west of the little hall. By that means we shall cut them off from the chapel; and then, while you wait in the ante-room, to be ready in case of need, I will go in and reason with the good lords."
"But," said Chartley, "suppose they have gone to the chapel, already. I see light in the window."
"Then we must follow them," answered Arden. "But above all things, my good lord, do not show yourself in the affair, if you can help it. You may put yourself in great peril with the king, remember; whereas all that Dickon, as I shall manage it, can say of me is, that I was somewhat too zealous for his service. Do not come forward, at all events, till you hear strife."
"Well, well," answered Chartley; "that I may promise at least, Now on; for there is no time to spare."
Approaching quietly one of the many small doors which gave exit from the great mass of the castle buildings into the courts around, the whole party found before them a staircase, which, strange to say, was broader and more easy of ascent than those communicating with either of the two principal entrances. Treading as softly on the stone steps as possible, they soon reached a wide landing-place, from one side of which ran away a long corridor, passing over part of the staircase, and guarded from it by an open screen of stonework, while on the other side was a door; leading down by ten steps, to the entrance of the chapel; and between the two appeared another door, opening into a little ante-room, flanking the lesser or upper hall.
Sir William Arden lifted the latch of the ante-chamber door, and opened it gently, when immediately the voice of Lord Calverly was heard, raised to a loud and angry tone, exclaiming, "Get you gone, mistress, and tell her to come down this instant, or I will come and fetch her. Tell not me that you cannot get admission or an answer. If I come, it shall be to make a way for myself."
"But it is not ten yet, my lord," said the sweet voice of Constance. "You said you would give her till ten."
"What matters five minutes?" cried the old lord, in the same sharp tone. "But we will be to the letter, and so shall she. Let her know, girl, if she is not here, in this hall, by the time the castle clock chimes the last stroke of ten, I will come to fetch her, and drag her to the altar by the wrists."
Sir William Arden had held up his hand to those who were following him, at the first sounds of the voices speaking; and the whole party paused, some upon the stairs, and a few upon the landing. The next moment, the door of the ante-room opened; and, coming with a slow step, Constance appeared. She gave a slight start at seeing Arden and the rest, where she least expected to meet them; but he quietly laid his finger on his lip, and pointed along the corridor to the stone screen. Constance made a mute gesture, as if deprecating violence, and then passed on with a quickened step.
Arden did not immediately enter the ante-room, but waited till the light foot-fall of Constance had died away; and then, once more giving his directions to his followers, and bestowing another word of caution upon Chartley, he walked straight through the ante-room into the hall. When he entered, Lord Calverly was walking up and down one side of the long chamber, and Lord Fulmer doing the same in the other. The face of each was grave and moody; and they seemed not very well pleased with each other, or with anything that was taking place around them. Both however started on seeing Sir William Arden; and, in a tone of bitter civility, Lord Calverly addressed him, approaching quite close as he did so.
"I had thought, Sir William, you had retired to rest," he said, "and was wishing you tranquil slumbers. Allow me to say that, at the present moment, I and Lord Fulmer are busy with matters of much personal importance."
"Good faith, my lord," replied Sir William Arden, in a light tone, "I heard below that there were jovial things to take place in the castle, and I wish to share in the festivities of my honoured host."
"I know not what you mean, sir," said Lord Calverly, with a cold stare; but Fulmer at once advanced to the knight, saying--
"There is a meaning in your tone, sir, which must be explained. It seems to me, that you are determined to force your uninvited society upon us, at a moment when we desire to be alone."
"Exactly, my good lord," replied Arden. "I am precisely in that very unpleasant predicament. You will see how disagreeable it must be to me; and therefore I trust you will make it as smooth to me as possible."
"Why, marry, what is all this?" exclaimed Lord Calverly.
"If so painful, what brings you here?" demanded Fulmer sternly.
"I will tell you, young man," answered Arden. "I have learned, that it is the intention of this good lord to bestow on you the hand--"
"From whom, from whom?" shouted Lord Calverly.
"From an exceedingly fat priest, amongst others," replied Arden, smiling; "but the news is all over the castle. If your lordship cannot keep your own secrets, depend upon it, others will not."
"But what affair is this of yours, Sir William?" said Fulmer, with a sneer. "Are you an aspirant to the lady's hand?"
"Not at present," answered Arden. "But the case is this, without farther words, my lords. I find that this marriage is against the lady's will, and that threats are held out to her of using force--"
"Oh, she has made her complaint to you, has she?" said Lord Calverly.
"No, she has not," replied Arden; "but hearing it by accident, and having a great regard for your two lordships, I wished, as a knight and a gentleman of some experience and repute, to remonstrate with you, and show you what danger and disgrace to your fair names you bring upon yourselves by such proceedings--proceedings unworthy of English noblemen and Christian men."
He spoke so calmly, and in such a quiet reasoning tone, that neither Fulmer nor Lord Calverly suspected for one moment that he intended to proceed to any other measure than mere remonstrance. That they thought bold enough; and Fulmer replied, "We understand from whence your inspiration comes, Sir William; and I only wonder the prompter does not appear himself."
"That I took care of," said Lord Calverly. "I am not one, my young friend, to neglect any precautions. I think I have some experience in dealing with men, and some foresight too as to all that is likely to occur. It is not easy to catch me sleeping. Now, Sir William Arden, One word for all. I am not inclined to be wanting in hospitality or courtesy towards a guest; but I must desire to be left to the management of my affairs, without either your presence or your counsel;" and he made a low bow.
Arden paused for a moment, as if in expectation that he would add something more; and the old nobleman, who had with difficulty bridled his anger so far, went on in a tone far from cool, to say; "I would lack no courtesy; but, if you do not go, you must be removed."
"I have but little more to say," replied Arden, with imperturbable coolness, which contrasted somewhat strangely with his vehemence upon minor occasions; "but that little is important. This marriage must not go forward."
"But I say it must!" exclaimed Lord Calverly, calling down a bitter curse upon his own head if he did not carry it through; and then, striding to the door which led to the staircase from the great hall, he shouted aloud, "Ho! Two of you come up here; here is something unpleasant that must be removed."
Steps were immediately heard running up; and Arden retreated towards the door by which he had entered, slowly and calmly, but with a smile upon his countenance.
"My good lord," he said; "you do not know what you do;" and, opening the door of the ante-room, he said aloud, "Here, I want some of you, my friends. Two stand on the landing, and keep that way against all comers."
"Take hold of him and carry him away to his own rooms," exclaimed Lord Calverly, at the same moment, addressing two of his attendants, who had entered; but when he turned and saw the number of armed men pouring in, he stood as one aghast; and Arden whispered to one of his followers, "secure that door," pointing to the one on the opposite side of the hall.
The man to whom he spoke, and two others, darted across, and had reached the middle of the hall, before the servants of the castle seemed to comprehend what was going on.
"Keep the door, keep the door!" cried Lord Fulmer; and they both immediately ran towards it. It was a race which of the parties should reach it first; and indeed neither won; but, just as the first of the old lord's servants was stretching forth his hand to seize the door, which was partly open, a stout arm applied a blow to the side of his head, which made him stagger back, and then measure his length upon the floor. The next instant the door was closed and locked; and Sir William Arden remained the master of both entrances.
"I beg your lordship's pardon," he said, "for taking somewhat decided means to obtain a fair hearing, which it seems you were not inclined to give me."
"Are we to consider ourselves prisoners, sir?" exclaimed the old nobleman, confounded and dismayed. "If so, I must appeal to the throne against such violence."
"If you, or Lord Fulmer either, can venture to do so, pray do," replied Arden, calmly. "But I too, my lord, am a prudent man, as well as yourself; and it is difficult to catch me sleeping. I said that this marriage must not go forward; and I now ask you both, my lords, whether you have the king's consent to this proceeding? In a word, whether it was not your intention to act in this business in direct disobedience to his authority?"
Fulmer gazed down upon the ground, and bit his lip; but Lord Calverly demanded fiercely--
"Who told you that, sir? I protest against such an interference in any man."
"It matters not who told me," replied Arden. "Suffice it that I am well prepared to justify what I do. Now, my lord, after what I have said, you dare not proceed to the act which you were about to commit--an act which would have only led you and Lord Fulmer here to long imprisonment, if not worse. If you give up all notion of such rashness, if you pledge me your word, that you will make no attempt to carry through this marriage, till the king's full consent has been obtained, and if this noble lord agrees to ride forward immediately upon the errand with which he is charged by the king, I will restore to you the command of your own house, which I have been obliged to take possession of in his grace's service. Moreover, I will refrain from reporting to the king the intended disobedience which I have been in time to frustrate. If not, I shall feel it my painful duty to put you both under arrest, and convey you myself to York."
It is hardly possible to describe the sensations produced by these words, and the calm and quiet tone in which they were uttered, upon the minds of his two hearers. Lord Calverly was astounded and terrified; for, like almost all very vain and pompous men, he was very easily depressed by difficulties and dangers. It only required to humble his vanity sufficiently, to make it a very submissive and patient quality, however vehement and pugnacious it might be under a slight mortification. To find himself suddenly deprived of all power in his own house, and treated with an air of authority and reproof, by a guest who ventured to back his pretensions by the redoubted name of Richard, was quite sufficient to silence him, although his wrath still swelled and fretted within.
Lord Fulmer, for his part, heard the words which had just been spoken, not only in sullen silence, but with much surprise. He well knew that, hurried on by passion, he had placed himself in a position of very great danger, and that the act of disobedience he had committed, if it reached Richard's ears, was likely to be followed by the ruin of all his hopes, and long imprisonment. But how Sir William Arden had so rapidly received tidings of the commands the king had laid upon him, he could not divine, forgetting entirely that the necessity of his departure on the following morning had been mentioned to Iola in the presence of Constance. At the same time, he felt that to remain would be ruin, and that resistance was vain. His only hope, therefore, was to escape the present danger, trusting that some of the many changing events of the day would afford him better opportunities, or at all events give him at some future time the means of revenge.
All Lord Calverly thought of, after he had in some degree mastered his anger and surprise, was how to retract, in as dignified a manner as possible; and he had just begun to reply, "Well, sir, if I am a prisoner in my own house, I have nothing to do but to submit;" but the voice of Constance was heard, speaking eagerly to some one without.
A moment or two after, she entered with a face still somewhat pale, and a look of much anxiety, saying:--
"I am sorry to tell you, my lord, that my cousin is not to be found. After knocking for some time at her door, I and her girl Susan chanced to see the key lying on the table of the ante-room; but we used it only to find her chamber vacant."
"Heaven and earth!" exclaimed Lord Calverly; "this is too much. Where can the foolish child have concealed herself? From the castle she could not go, for the gates were all locked at sunset. Let us search for her immediately."
"Ay, let us search," exclaimed Lord Fulmer, with a look of great anxiety. "If any evil have happened, I shall never forgive myself."
Sir William Arden was somewhat alarmed; but, although Constance's face expressed anxiety, it struck him there was less terror in it than might have been expected.
"Ay, noble lord," he said, "we always regret wrong actions when it is too late; but, before I permit either of you to quit this hall, we must have a clear understanding. Do you accept the conditions I mentioned?"
"Assuredly," replied Lord Calverly; "I must search for this poor child at once."
"And you, Lord Fulmer?" said Arden.
"I do," replied Fulmer, bowing his head.
"Then I commend you to your horse's back at once," said Arden; "and I will have the honour of waiting upon you to the stables. Otherwise, perchance, you might find neither men nor horses free to serve you."
"This is hard," said Fulmer.
"It may be no better, I fear," replied Arden. "Excuse me, for a moment, my lords, while I speak with the guard without;" and, turning to the men at the door, he added, "Suffer no one to quit the hall, but the lady, till I return."
He was not long absent; but, many had been the questions poured forth in the mean time, upon Constance, who was replying to one of them, when Sir William re-entered the room.
"I cannot even divine, my dear uncle," she said; "she communicated not her intention to me in any shape; and I certainly expected to find her in her own chamber, when I returned at the end of the hour, during which she wished to be left in solitude."
Arden seemed not to notice the words, though he heard them, but informing Lord Fulmer that he was ready to accompany him, prepared to lead the way.
At that moment, however, one of the servants whom Lord Calverly had called into the hall, and who had of necessity remained there with the rest, remarked, in a dull and sullen voice:--
"There is somebody ringing the great bell at the gate. 'Tis the third time it has rung. The old porter must be sleeping, not to open."
"He has no power," said Sir William Arden. "I have the keys. Go you," he continued, speaking to one of his own followers--"open the wicket; but give no admission to any large party. Two or three you may suffer to enter."
Lord Calverly was apparently about to say something; but the veteran soldier waved his hand to the man, as a signal to depart; and he retired at once, knowing no authority but that of his own master.
During his absence, which lasted some two or three minutes, the whole party stood in unpleasant silence. Lord Calverly, indeed, ventured a word in a low tone to Fulmer, but obtained no reply; and some one came and tried the door on the side of the principal staircase, leading to the great hall; but it was locked and guarded. The eyes of Constance sought the face of Arden; but neither spoke.
At length the servant returned; but he was not alone. Close upon his steps came a man dressed as an ordinary post or courier of the court, who gazed round the scene presented to him in some surprise.
"Which is Sir William Arden?" he said, somewhat to the dismay both of Fulmer and the old lord.
"I am he," replied Arden, advancing with a mind relieved; for, though resolved, at all hazards, to carry through what he had undertaken; yet he had some fear that his first plans might be in a degree disconcerted by the appearance of the royal messenger.
The post immediately handed him a letter, sealed with the broad seal, and Arden received it as an ordinary occurrence, with admirable command of his countenance.
"By your leave, my lords," he said, and, approaching one of the sconces, he opened the paper and read. The cover seemed to contain two other letters, and after having perused his own, he turned towards Lord Calverly, presenting one of them to him, and saying:
"I presume, my lord, this is an order to deliver up the ward of my cousin, Lord Chartley, to myself."
But there was more in the epistle to the old nobleman, and when he read it his face turned very pale.
"Now, sir," said Arden, addressing Lord Fulmer, "I will conduct you to your horse, and then immediately perform, the commands of his grace the king."
"In the name of all the saints, my dear child," said Lord Calverly, as soon as Arden and Fulmer had quitted the room; "what is to be done, if we cannot find your cousin?"
"Nay, I know not," answered Constance, "but I trust we shall find her well and safe, or at all events hear from her, if she should have taken refuge elsewhere. In the midst of all this confusion, it is very possible she may have slipped out of the castle unperceived."
Constance, it would appear, did not choose her means of consolation well; for her words had anything but a soothing effect upon her uncle, who walked up and down for two or three minutes, in a state of great agitation, making sundry addresses to saints and the virgin, which savoured much more of impatience than piety. At length, returning to his niece's side, as she remained standing in the midst, of the room, he whispered:--
"We must find her, we must find her, Constance. This is the most unfortunate out of all. You don't know what is in this letter;" and he struck it with his fingers. "The king here tells me to send her back to the abbey immediately, and that he makes the abbess, my good sister, responsible for her safeguard, till he can decide in the matter of her marriage himself. He must have had some inkling of this rash mad-headed boy's purpose."
"That is unfortunate, indeed," answered Constance, thoughtfully.
"Unfortunate!" exclaimed her uncle. "It is ruin, child. Why, I risk not only imprisonment but confiscation. I cannot comply with the king's commands; nor can I explain to him why I do not comply, without telling him all that has occurred to-night. It is ruin, I tell you. Here, come aside, that knave of a courier seems listening to us."
"You had better tell Sir William Arden your difficulty," replied Constance, when they had got to the farther end of the hall. "Though his manner is rough and blunt, yet sure I am he has a kind heart."
"Let us search well for her first," said her uncle. "Perhaps we may find her in the castle after all. I wish the knight would return. What a long time he stays. Hark!" he continued, after a pause of a minute or two. "There is the sound of horses' feet in the court-yard. Now, thank God, Fulmer is gone; a good riddance, on my life, for he had well nigh persuaded me to that which might have been my destruction."
Only a short interval took place before Arden returned; and, after giving some orders in a low tone to his own men, he advanced towards Lord Calverly, holding out his hand and saying--
"I beseech you, my good lord, to let all angry feeling pass away between us. Believe me, I have saved you from a great danger, into which you were persuaded to run, by your regard for the young nobleman who is just gone, contrary to the dictates of your own wisdom and experience."
Lord Calverly took his hand, and shook it heartily, saying--
"That is very true, Sir William, that is very true. I never liked the business, and was hard to persuade; but, having once decided, of course I could not suffer myself to be thwarted by a mere child. Pray, now, let us seek for her. I am ready, God knows, to obey the king in everything," he added in a loud tone, for the messenger's ears.
"Well, we will seek for her at once," said Arden. "But first let us restore the house to its propriety."
The followers of Chartley and of Arden himself were dismissed to their several occupations; the servants of Lord Calverly permitted to depart from the hall; the refreshment of the king's post was provided for; and the search was commenced, Chartley having been called to aid, at the suggestion of his cousin. Every nook and corner of the extensive building was examined, but Iola was not to be found.
The search was over. It had proved, as I have said, vain; and Lord Calverly was in a state of bewildered confusion of mind, which it was impossible to describe. Obey the king's commands by placing Iola once more in the abbey of St. Clare of Atherston, he could not do. To explain to Richard the cause of his disobedience was only to accuse himself of a worse fault of the same kind. To frame any excuse, real or false, for his conduct, he knew not how; and his whole anxiety seemed to be to pursue and overtake the fugitive, wherever she might have taken refuge. Several of the servants were examined, in order to obtain some clue to the course which she had followed; but no one could afford any. Her waiting-woman, Susan, was as much grieved, distressed, and anxious as the rest. The porter declared that he had closed every postern before he was shut into his lodging by Sir William Arden; and, at first, the old lord was inclined to suppose that Iola had taken advantage of the keys having been left in the door, to make her escape, while Arden was remonstrating with him in the hall. But, on the one hand, the porter declared that the keys had never been removed from the place where Arden had left them till they were taken to give admission to the king's messenger; and the man who had been shut up with him confirmed the story. They had both watched anxiously, they said, and must have heard the sound of the keys being withdrawn, had such a thing occurred. Sir William's attendant, too, who had given admission to the royal courier, stated that he had found the gates both locked and barred. The girl, Susan, too, showed that she had remained in her mistress's antechamber for nearly three quarters of an hour immediately before she was missed; and every servant stated positively that they had neither seen the lady, nor any figure, which could have been hers disguised, attempt to pass out of the castle.
"Nothing can, at all events, be done till morning," said Sir William Arden, "and therefore, my good lord, I will wish you good night. Let us take counsel with our pillows."
His suggestion was followed, Chartley accompanying his friend with less anxiety apparent on his countenance than the occasion might perhaps have justified. Before Arden went, he contrived to say a few words to Constance, unheard by the rest; but Constance shook her head, replying, "I know nought, indeed, and can give no information; but yet I am inclined to believe that dear Iola is in no danger, wherever she is. She used to roam far and wide, where I should have been afraid to venture; and I feel sure she is safe." Then dropping her voice quite to a whisper, she added, "Pray, tell Lord Chartley so."
A few minutes after, Chartley and his friend sat together in the chamber of the former; and Arden eyed him with an enquiring and yet a smiling glance.
"Know you aught of this escapade, Signor Chartley?" he said, at length. "Methinks you seem not so heart-wrung and fear-stricken as might have been expected, at the unaccountable disappearance of your lady love."
"Nevertheless, I am anxious," replied Chartley, "for I know not where she is, nor what has become of her, any more than the rest. But, at the same time, I have this consolation, that I believe her escape must have been planned, in case of need, long before; for she boasted to me that she could pass through the walls of this castle like a spirit. I therefore argue, that we have every reason to think her safe; and, to tell the truth, I should not much regret her having put herself beyond the power of her excellent wise uncle, were I not here in ward, and unable to do as I could wish."
"What would you do, if you were out of the old earl's clutches?" demanded Arden, with a smile.
"I would set off by day-break to seek her--" replied Chartley, "by day-break to-morrow morning."
"And having found her?" asked Arden.
Chartley smiled, and looked thoughtfully down on the table, for a moment or two, answering at length, "Don't you think, Arden, that if one going a journey found a peculiarly beautiful flower growing near his path, he would be inclined to gather it at once, not waiting till he came back again, lest it should be withered or plucked in the mean time. One would not mind a few scratches either, to get at it."
"Come, come, no metaphors," said Arden. "You know, I am dull as to all fanciful things, my good lord, so tell me plainly what you would do."
"Well, then," answered Chartley, "if I found her, as you suppose, I should be strangely tempted to ask her to get upon the back of an ambling mule or light-footed Barbary jennet, and make a pilgrimage with me to some shrines of great repute in Britanny or France."
"Hymen's for one of them, I suppose," said Arden, laughing; "ah, Chartley, you are but a pagan after all. But you forget such things might be dangerous. When you came back, your head would be in a tottering condition, or, at the best, your dearly beloved liberty of roaming might be confined within the four walls of a small room."
"I might stay away, till heads were more sure upon men's shoulders, and liberties were not the sport of a tyrant's caprice," replied Chartley, more gravely than was his wont. "This state of things cannot last for ever, Arden. The world is getting sick of it. There are strange rumours abroad. Our poor queen Ann is ill; and men much suspect she will not recover. Few indeed do under the treatment she is likely to have; and Richard, they say, is very anxious for heirs."
"So, so," cried Arden, "sets the wind there? Why, methought a Chartley would never draw his sword against the house of York."
"Assuredly," replied Chartley, "so long as the lawful heirs of that house sat upon the throne. But there is such a thing, Arden, as two streams mingling--such a thing as two factions, long rivals arrayed in bloody opposition, finding a bond of fellowship, and uniting to overthrow one who has wronged and slaughtered both.
"I have heard something of this," said Arden, thoughtfully. "The rightful heir of York is Elizabeth of York; and, were such a thing possible, that Harry of Richmond should graft the red rose on the white rose stem, there is many a man beside yourself who would gladly couch a lance in his support."
Chartley gazed at him for a moment thoughtfully, and then answered. "He has sworn it, Arden, in the cathedral church of Rennes. I know I can trust you; and I tell you he has sworn it. The queen Elizabeth, too, consents, I am informed; and men but wait for the propitious hour."
"You have heard from Richmond!" said Arden, bluffly. "Your Arab brought you letters from the earl."
"No," answered Chartley; "but I have heard from Oxford. He is already in arms in Picardy; and Calais had better close fast her gates."
"Well, well," said Arden. "Love and war, 'tis strange how well these two dissimilar dogs hunt in couples. We were talking of love just now, and lo, she runs straight up to the side of war. So, if you were free, you would ride off with this sweet pretty Iola, and wait for better times, tending hens and sowing turnips round a cottage door. Upon my life, I see no reason why you should not, even as the matter is."
"But I am in ward," said Chartley. "My pledge has been given to this good old Lord Calverly."
"That is all at an end," replied Arden, with a smile, drawing some papers from his pocket. "I have kept you all this time in ignorance, to win your secrets from you. But now know, my lord, that you are in ward to me, and not Lord Calverly. Here is the king's letter to me, and there is one from his gentle grace for you, probably announcing the same thing. The truth is, I fancy, this rash Lord Fulmer has let Richard into too many secrets; and the king is determined to keep his hold of the young lover, by delaying his marriage, while he at the same time separates you from her, to ensure that she is not won by a rival. How he happened to fix upon me as your jailer is a marvel."
While he had thus spoke, Chartley had opened the king's letter, and was reading it eagerly.
"Wrong, Arden, wrong!" he exclaimed, with a joyous look, "wrong, and yet right in some things--read, read!"
Arden took the letter and ran over the contents with that sort of rapid humming tone which renders some words distinct, while others are slurred over. Every now and then he added a comment in his own peculiar way, not always in the most polite or reverent language; for those were not times of great refinement, and right names were often applied to things which we now veil both in word and seeming.
"'To our trusty and well beloved'--well, well--so he wrote to Buckingham--'our intentions towards you were more gentle than the need of example required to be apparent'--doubtless, his intentions are always gentle; but his needs are numerous--'somewhat exceeded in strictness the spirit of our injunctions'--Poor Lord Calverly, mighty strict indeed when he lets his house be mastered by a prisoner and a handful of guests!--'transferred you therefore in ward to your cousin, Sir William Arden, who will better comprehend our intentions. Nor do we purpose here to shut up our benevolence towards you, but to enlarge it according to your merits and services, even in that which you most desire'--What does the hypocrite mean? He will have your head off ere he has done--'In the mean time, as you incurred displeasure by rashness, so win fair fortune and your heart's content by prudence; for having learned your wishes from a rival and an enemy, we give you an earnest of our good will, in disappointing his desires, with the thought of gratifying yours, according to your deserving, in good season. So, commending you to the protection of God, the Blessed Virgin, and St. Paul'--what a number of them!--'we bid you, et cetera.'"
Arden laid down the letter, and fell into deep thought. Chartley spoke to him, but he did not seem to hear. Chartley gazed at him, and laughed in the joyous hopefulness of youth; but Arden took no notice. Chartley shook him by the arm; but his cousin merely said in a sharp tone--
"Let me think, idle boy!--Let me think. Would you be chained to the collar of a boar, to be dragged with him, wallowing through the blood of the dogs, which will soon be let loose to hunt him to the death?"
"I know not what you mean," exclaimed the young nobleman; "have you gone mad, Arden?"
"It is you who are mad, if you see not the object of this letter," replied Arden. "Hope to you--suspense to Fulmer--both for the same purpose. To keep you his. He holds out a prize to the eyes of both, to be won by a race of services and submissions to himself. Will you enter upon this course, Chartley? Will you, even for the hand of Iola, become the labouring straining serf of him who slew your royal master's children, slaughtered innocent babes, spilt the blood of his own house? See through his artful policy--shut not your eyes to his purpose--calculate the price you must pay for his support of your suit--judge accurately whether, when all is done, the hypocrite will keep the spirit of his promise; and then choose your path."
"I saw it not in that light," replied Chartley, at once brought down to a graver mood, "and yet it may be as you say."
"May be? It is!" replied Arden, "by St. Peter, that dear little girl was right and wise, to fly away and not be made a decoy to lead the game into his net! She knew it not indeed; but that matters not. 'Tis well that she is gone. Her foolish uncle must be sent to court, to confess his sins and excuse them as he may. It is the best course for him, the best result for us. Time--it is time we want."
"But I want something more, Arden," said. Chartley. "I want liberty--freedom to act as I will. Then my course is soon decided. By Heaven, I have a thousand minds to rise upon my ward master, bind him, and carry him with me--whither he would be right willing to go,under compulsion."
"No, Chartley, no!" answered Arden. "I will not put a colouring upon my actions that they merit not. I will not seem to do by force that which I am afraid to do with good will and openly."
"Then what will you do? How will you act?" demanded Chartley, somewhat puzzled.
"'Tis a case of difficulty," replied Arden, musing. "I must not accept a charge and then violate a trust; I must not shelter a breach of faith under an equivocation."
"But if you refuse to ward me," answered Chartley, "'Tis certain I shall be placed in stricter hands."
"I will not refuse," replied his cousin. "I know this king, and I will accept the ward for a time; but I will write to him and tell him, that it shall be for but one month, as I could never manage you long in my life--which Heaven knows is true enough. If it last longer I renounce it. I know well how it will be. If he sees you tranquil and quiet, he may perhaps let you have full liberty then, thinking that he has power over you by the hope of this fair lady's hand. If not, he will write to me at the month's end, to keep you still in ward, which I will not do for an hour. Meanwhile, we shall have time for all preparations, to find the lady, and seek both the means of flight and means of living afar. Then, have with you, Chartley, and good fortune speed us both!"
This arrangement was not altogether pleasing to his more ardent and impatient companion.
"But hark you, Arden," he said, "long ere the time you speak of, things may have occurred which will require instant decision. Everything is hurrying here to a close; and, before a month be over, much may take place which will render it necessary to act at once."
"I do not think it," answered Arden, deliberately. "The march of great events is generally slow. Sometimes, indeed, it happens that an earthquake comes and shatters all; but more frequently the changes of the world are like the changes of the year, spring, summer, autumn, winter; cloud, sunshine, wind, rain, thunderstorm, sunshine once more, and then the same course round."
"But I tell you, Arden, Oxford is already in arms," replied Chartley, "and marching towards Calais, to take it from the usurper, that Richmond is promised aid from France, and that troops are already gathering at Rouen."
"Rain drops before the storm," answered Arden; "but, before you can do aught, you must find your sweet lady Iola, gain her consent to your plans, make all your preparations for escape; and this will all take some time, let me tell you."
"What if we find her speedily," said Chartley, "and see, moreover, that she is likely to fall into the king's hands, and to be held out, as you yourself have said, as a prize to the most serviceable."
"Good faith, then you must act as you think fit," said Arden. "I shall guard you, and your seven or eight servants, with myself and my own three. Richard cannot expect that I should augment my household to pleasure him, in a matter that he puts upon me without my wish. Should need be, you must lay your own plans and execute them. Only let me not know them, at least, till the month is over. But methinks, my good lord and cousin, your impatience somewhat miscalculates the future. A month is a short time for all I have mentioned."
"Ay, but I go fast," answered Chartley. "To-morrow we will away to seek this fair lady, and never give the search up till we have found her. You despatch this old lord as fast as may be to York; for, if he should stay and find her out, we might have strife or difficulty."
"See how he takes the tone of command already," exclaimed Arden, laughing; "but do you know, Signor Chartley, that I have a strange hankering for this great castle of Chidlow, and do not love to leave it yet. There are others to be served as well as you."
"How so?" demanded Chartley, in surprise; "why should you wish to stay at Chidlow?"
"Because there is a little maiden there, with sweet soft eyes," replied Arden, "who though, God wot, somewhat given to pensive mood, smiles brightly when I talk to her; and methinks it will not be very easy to tear myself away."
"What, Constance?" exclaimed Chartley. "You, Arden, you! You thinking of love and matrimony! Why, I have given you over to dull celibacy for the last ten years. You were wont to think no eyes so bright as a spear's point, to feel no love for aught but a suit of Milan steel, to warm to the sound of cannon sooner than the lute, and to think the blast of the trumpet sweeter than any lady's tongue. Now, farewell to all hopes of your inheritance! Lack-a-day, what a splendid fortune I have missed by not watching you more closely! and we shall soon have half a score of little Ardens, with round curly heads, playing with your rusty greaves, and calling you Papa."
"Go on. I am laughter proof," answered Arden. "Let him laugh who wins. Of one thing, at least, I am certain, if she gives me her hand, 'tis with free will and all her heart. No ambition in a case where the bridegroom is a simple knight, no ambition where she does not know him to possess a single angel in the world, except herself. But tell me, Chartley, where have been your eyes?"
"Looking into Iola's, I fancy," answered Chartley. "'Tis true, I saw you sit and talk with her upon the battlements the other day, and heard you laugh, and saw you smile; but I thought, good sooth, 'twas mere good-nature that kept you lingering behind with Constance, in order that Iola and I might have free leave to pour forth our hearts to each other."
"No, no," answered Arden. "I am very good-natured and generous, I know; but in this instance, like the rest of the world, I was good-natured--with an object. 'Tis true," he continued, in a graver tone, "there is a great difference between her age and mine--some four and twenty years, and I shall wither while she will still bloom. Perhaps you think her too young, Chartley, to be taken as my wife; but I am not yet old enough to adopt her as my daughter; and one or the other she shall be, if she will; for I will not leave that dear girl to the sad choice of vowing herself to a convent, or remaining dependent upon her foolish uncle's bounty."
Chartley laid his hand affectionately upon his cousin's, saying, "Far from thinking her too young to be your wife, Arden--far from thinking you should not make her such, I believe and trust that you will find happiness with her, such as you have never known before. I have seen the honeysuckle in the woods, twining itself sweetly round the trees. It chooses generally a stout and sturdy trunk, of mature growth, and there it winds itself up, loading the strong branches with its nectar-dropping blossoms. Sometimes, however, I have seen it climb up a light sapling, till they mingled leaves and flowers together, in one heavy mass; but then, there being no steadiness in either, they have been blown to and fro with every wind, till a fiercer blast of the tempest has broken or rooted up the frail prop; and the honeysuckle has been laid low with that it clung to."
"Well, I have no cause to make the objection if she do not," answered Arden. "She has wound herself round my heart, I know not how; but I have concealed nothing from her: She knows my birth-day as well as I do myself; and she says she does not care a groat"--Chartley smiled--"no, not exactly a groat," continued Arden, "but what she said, was this, that when one loved any body, the heart never stopped to ask whether he was rich or poor, old or young; that where calculation entered, love was not. Upon my life, I believe what she said is true; for I know I began to make love to her without any calculation at all, and not much thinking of what I was about. Is that the usual way, Chartley?"
"Precisely!" answered his cousin.
"Well, then, let us go to bed," said Arden; "for I shall rouse this old lord by cock-crow, and send him off, as soon as I can, to York."