TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES

By Charlotte M. Yonge

CHAPTER 1. DUNBAR

 ''Twas on a night, an evening bright When the dew began to fa', Lady Margaret was walking up and down, Looking over her castle wa'. '

The battlements of a castle were, in disturbed times, the onlyrecreation-ground of the ladies and play-place of the young people. Dunbar Castle, standing on steep rocks above the North Sea, was notonly inaccessible on that side, but from its donjon tower commanded amagnificent view, both of the expanse of waves, taking purple tints fromthe shadows of the clouds, with here and there a sail fleeting beforethe wind, and of the rugged headlands of the coast, point beyond point, the nearer distinct, and showing the green summits, and below, thetossing waves breaking white against the dark rocks, and the distancebecoming more and more hazy, in spite of the bright sun which made abroken path of glory along the tossing, white-crested waters. 

The wind was a keen north-east breeze, and might have been thought toosevere by any but the 'hardy, bold, and wild' children who were merrilyplaying on the top of the donjon tower, round the staff whence flutteredthe double treasured banner with 'the ruddy lion ramped in gold'denoting the presence of the King. 

Three little boys, almost babies, and a little girl not much older, werepresided over by a small elder sister, who held the youngest in her lap, and tried to amuse him with caresses and rhymes, so as to prevent hisinterference with the castle-building of the others, with their smallhoard of pebbles and mussel and cockle shells. 

Another maiden, the wind tossing her long chestnut-locks, uncovered, buttied with the Scottish snood, sat on the battlement, gazing far out overthe waters, with eyes of the same tint as the hair. Even the sea-breezefailed to give more than a slight touch of colour to her somewhatfreckled complexion; and the limbs that rested in a careless attitude onthe stone bench were long and languid, though with years and favourablecircumstances there might be a development of beauty and dignity. Herlips were crooning at intervals a mournful old Scottish tune, sometimesonly humming, sometimes uttering its melancholy burthen, and she now andthen touched a small harp that stood by her side on the seat. 

She did not turn round when a step approached, till a hand was laid onher shoulder, when she started, and looked up into the face of anothergirl, on a smaller scale, with a complexion of the lily-and-rose kind, fair hair under her hood, with a hawk upon her wrist, and blue eyesdancing at the surprise of her sister. 

'Eleanor in a creel, as usual!' she cried. 

'I thought it was only one of the bairns, ' was the answer. 

'They might coup over the walls for aught thou seest, ' returned thenew-comer. 'If it were not for little Mary what would become of the poorweans?'

'What will become of any of us?' said Eleanor. 'I was gazing out overthe sea and wishing we could drift away upon it to some land of rest. '

'The Glenuskie folk are going to try another land, ' said Jean. 'I wasin the bailey-court even now playing at ball with Jamie when in comes alay-brother, with a letter from Sir Patrick to say that he is comingthe night to crave permission from Jamie to go with his wife to France. Annis, as you know, is betrothed to the son of his French friends, Malcolm is to study at the Paris University, and Davie to be in theScottish Guards to learn chivalry like his father. And the Leddy ofGlenuskie--our Cousin Lilian--is going with them. '

'And she will see Margaret, ' said Eleanor. 'Meg the dearie! Dostremember Meg, Jeanie?'

'Well, well do I remember her, and how she used to let us nestle in herlap and sing to us. She sang like thee, Elleen, and was as mother-likeas Mary is to the weans, but she was much blithesomer--at least beforeour father was slain. '

'Sweetest Meg! My whole heart leaps after her, ' cried Eleanor, with afervent gesture. 

'I loved her better than Isabel, though she was not so bonnie, ' saidJean. 

'Jeanie, Jeanie, ' cried Eleanor, turning round with a vehemencestrangely contrasting with her previous language, 'wherefore should wenot go with Glenuskie to be with Meg at Bourges?'

Jeanie opened her blue eyes wide. 

'Go to the French King's Court?' she said. 

'To the land of chivalry and song, ' exclaimed Eleanor, 'where they havecourts of love and poetry, and tilts and tourneys and minstrelsy, andthe sun shines as it never does in this cold bleak north; and above allthere is Margaret, dear tender Margaret, almost a queen, as a queen shewill be one day. Oh! I almost feel her embrace. '

'It might be well, ' said Jean, in the matter-of-fact tone of a practicalyoung lady; 'mewed up in these dismal castles, we shall never getprincely husbands like our sisters. I might be Queen of Beauty, I doubtme whether you are fair enough, Eleanor. '

'Oh, that is not what I think of, ' said Eleanor. 'It is to see our ownMargaret, and to see and hear the minstrel knights, instead of the rudesavages here, scarce one of whom knows what knighthood means!'

'Ay, and they will lay hands on us and wed us one of these days, 'returned Jean, 'unless we vow ourselves as nuns, and I have no mind forthat. '

'Nor would a convent always guard us, ' said Eleanor; 'these reiversdo not stick at sanctuary. Now in that happy land ladies meet withcourtesy, and there is a minstrel king like our father, Rene is hisname, uncle to Margaret's husband. Oh! it would be a very paradise. '

'Let us go, let us go!' exclaimed Jean. 

'Go!' said Mary, who had drawn nearer to them while they spoke. 'Whitherdid ye say?'

'To France--to sister Margaret and peace and sunshine, ' said Eleanor. 

'Eh!' said the girl, a pale fair child of twelve; 'and what would poorJamie and the weans do, wanting their titties?'

'Ye are but a bairn, Mary, ' was Jean's answer. 'We shall do better forJamie by wedding some great lords in the far country than by waitinghere at home. '

'And James will soon have a queen of his own to guide him, ' addedEleanor. 

'I'll no quit Jamie or the weans, ' said little Mary resolutely, turning back as the three-year-old boy elicited a squall from theeighteen-months one. 

'Johnnie! Johnnie! what gars ye tak' away wee Andie's claw? Here, mymannie. '

And she was kneeling on the leads, making peace over the precious crab'sclaw, which, with a few cockles and mussels, was the choicest toy ofthese forlorn young Stewarts; for Stewarts they all were, though thethree youngest, the weans, as they were called, were only half-brothersto the rest. 

Nothing, in point of fact, could have been much more forlorn than thecondition of all. The father of the elder ones, James I. , the flowerof the whole Stewart race, had nine years before fallen a victim tothe savage revenge and ferocity of the lawless men whom he had vainlyendeavoured to restrain, leaving an only son of six years old and sixyoung daughters. His wife, Joanna, once the Nightingale of Windsor, hadwreaked vengeance in so barbarous a manner as to increase the disliketo her as an Englishwoman. Forlorn and in danger, she tried to secure aprotector by a marriage with Sir James Stewart, called the Black Knightof Lorn; but he was unable to do much for her, and only added thefeuds of his own family to increase the general danger. The two eldestdaughters, Margaret and Isabel, were already contracted to the Dauphinand the Duke of Brittany, and were soon sent to their new homes. Thelittle King, the one darling of his mother, was snatched from her, and violently transferred from one fierce guardian to another; eachregarding the possession of his person as a sanction to tyranny. He hadbeen introduced to the two winsome young Douglases only as a prelude totheir murder, and every day brought tidings of some fresh violence;nay, for the second time, a murder was perpetrated in the Queen's ownchamber. 

The poor woman had never been very tender or affectionate, and had thehaughty demeanour with which the house of Somerset had thought fitto assert their claims to royalty. The cruel slaughter of her firsthusband, perhaps the only person for whom she had ever felt a softeninglove, had hardened and soured her. She despised and domineered over hersecond husband, and made no secret that the number of her daughterswas oppressive, and that it was hard that while the royal branch hadproduced, with one exception, only useless pining maidens, her secondmarriage in too quick succession should bring her sons, who could onlybe a burthen. No one greatly marvelled when, a few weeks after the birthof little Andrew, his father disappeared, though whether he had perishedin some brawl, been lost at sea, or sought foreign service as far aspossible from his queenly wife and inconvenient family, no one knew. 

Not long after, the Queen, with her four daughters and the infants, hadbeen seized upon by a noted freebooter, Patrick Hepburn of Hailes, andcarried to Dunbar Castle, probably to serve as hostages, for they werefairly well treated, though never allowed to go beyond the walls. TheQueen's health had, however, been greatly shaken, the cold blasts of thenorth wind withered her up, and she died in the beginning of the year1445. 

The desolateness of the poor girls had perhaps been greater than theirgrief. Poor Joanna had been exacting and tyrannical, and with no femaleattendants but the old, worn-out English nurse, had made them do herall sorts of services, which were requited with scoldings and grumblingsinstead of the loving thanks which ought to have made them offices ofaffection as well as duty; while the poor little boys would indeed havefared ill if their half-sister Mary, though only twelve years old, hadnot been one of those girls who are endowed from the first with tender, motherly instincts. 

Beyond providing that there was a supply of some sort of food, andthat they were confined within the walls of the Castle, Hepburn did nottrouble his head about his prisoners, and for many weeks they hadno intercourse with any one save Archie Scott, an old groom of theirmother's; Ankaret, nurse to baby Andrew; and the seneschal and his wife, both Hepburns. 

Eleanor and Jean, who had been eight and seven years old at the timeof the terrible catastrophe which had changed all their lives, had beenwell taught under their father's influence; and the former, who hadinherited much of his talent and poetical nature, had availed herself ofevery scanty opportunity of feeding her imagination by book or ballad, story-teller or minstrel; and the store of tales, songs, and fanciesthat she had accumulated were not only her own chief resource but thatof her sisters, in the many long and dreary hours that they had to pass, unbrightened save by the inextinguishable buoyancy of young creaturestogether. When their mother was dying, Hepburn could not help for veryshame admitting a priest to her bedside, and allowing the clergy toperform her obsequies in full form. This had led to a more completeperception of the condition of the poor Princesses, just at thetime when the two worst tyrants over the young King, Crichton andLivingstone, had fallen out, and he had been able to put himself underthe guidance of his first cousin, James Kennedy, Bishop of St. Andrews and now Chancellor of Scotland, one of the wisest, best, andtruest-hearted men in Scotland, and imbued with the spirit of the lateKing. 

By his management Hepburn was induced to make submission and deliver upDunbar Castle to the King with all its captives, and the meeting betweenthe brother and sisters was full of extreme delight on both sides. Theyhad been together very little since their father's death, only meetingenough to make them long for more opportunities; and the boy at fifteenyears old was beginning to weary after the home feeling of rest amongkindred, and was so happy amidst his sisters that no attempt at breakingup the party at Dunbar had yet been made, as its situation made it aconvenient abode for the Court. Though he had never had such advantagesof education as, strangely enough, captivity had afforded to his father, he had not been untaught, and his rapid, eager, intelligent mind hadcaught at all opportunities afforded by those palace monasteries ofScotland in which he had stayed for various periods of his vexed andstormy minority. Good Bishop Kennedy, with whom he had now spent manymonths, had studied at Paris and had passed four years at Rome, so asto be well able both to enlarge and stimulate his notions. In Eleanor hehad found a companion delighted to share his studies, and full likewiseof original fancy and of that vein of poetry almost peculiar to Scottishwomen; and Jean was equally charming for all the sports in which shecould take part, while the little ones, whom, to his credit be itspoken, he always treated as brothers, were pleasant playthings. 

His presence, with all that it involved, had made a most happy changein the maidens' lives; and yet there was still great dreariness, muchrestraint in the presence of constant precaution against violence, muchrudeness and barbarism in the surroundings, absolute poverty in theplenishing, a lack of all beauty save in the wild and rugged face ofnorthern nature, and it was hardly to be wondered at that youngpeople, inheritors of the cultivated instincts of James I. And of thePlantagenets, should yearn for something beyond, especially for thatsunny southern land which report and youthful imagination made thembelieve an ideal world of peace, of poetry, and of chivalry, and theloving elder sister who seemed to them a part of that golden age whentheir noble and tender-hearted father was among them. 

The boy's foot was on the turret-stairs, and he was out on thebattlements--a tall lad for his age, of the same colouring as Eleanor, and very handsome, except for the blemish of a dark-red mark upon onecheek. 

'How now, wee Andie?' he exclaimed, tossing the baby boy up in his arms, and then on the cry of 'Johnnie too!' 'Me too!' performing the same featwith the other two, the last so boisterously that Mary screamed that'the bairnie would be coupit over the crag. '

'What, looking out over the sea?' he cried to his elder sisters. 'That'sthe wrang side! Ye should look out on the other, to see Glenuskie comingwith Davie and Malcolm, so we'll have no lack of minstrelsy and talesto-night, that is if the doited old council will let me alone. Here, come to the southern tower to watch for them. '

The sisters had worked themselves to the point of eagerness wherepropitious moments are disregarded, and both broke out--

'Glenuskie is going to Margaret. We want to go with him!'

'Go! Go to Margaret and leave me!' cried James, the red spot on his facespreading. 

'Oh, Jamie, it is so dull and dreary, and folks are so fierce and rude. '

'That might be when that loon Hepburn had you, but now you have me, whocan take order with them. '

'You cannot do all, Jamie, ' persisted Eleanor; 'and we long after thatfair smooth land of peace. Lady Glenuskie would take good care of ustill we came to Margaret. '

'Ay! And 'tis little you heed how it is with me, ' exclaimed James, 'whenyou are gone to your daffing and singing and dancing--with me that havesaved you from that reiver Hepburn. '

'Jamie, dear, I'll never quit ye, ' said little Mary's gentle voice. 

He laughed. 

'You are a leal faithful little lady, Mary; but you are no good as yet, when Angus is speiring for my sister for his heir. '

'And do you trow, ' said Jean hotly, 'that when one sister is to be aqueen, and the other is next thing to it, we are going to put up with araw-boned, red-haired, unmannerly Scots earl?'

'And do you forget who is King of Scotland, ye proud peat?' her brothercried in return. 

'A braw sort of king, ' returned Jean, 'who could not hinder his motherand sisters from being stolen by an outlaw. '

The pride and hot temper of the Beauforts had descended to both brotherand sister, and James lifted his hand with 'Dare to say that again';and Jean was beginning 'I dare, ' when little Annaple opportunely called, 'There's a plump of spears coming over the hill. '

There was an instant rush to watch them, James saying--

'The Drummond banner! Ye shall see how Glenuskie mocks at this same finefancy of yours'; and he ran downstairs at no kingly pace, letting theheavy nail-studded door bang after him. 

'He will never let us go, ' sighed Jean. 

'You worked him into one of his tempers, ' returned Eleanor. 'You shouldhave broached it to him more by degrees. '

'And lost the chance of going with Sir Patie and his wife, and gotplighted to the red-haired Master of Angus--never see sweet Meg andher braw court, and the tilts and tourneys, but live among murderouscaitiffs and reivers all my days, ' sobbed Jean. 

'I would not be such a fule body as to give in for a hasty word or two, specially of Jamie's, ' said Eleanor composedly. 

'And gin ye bide here, ' added gentle Mary, 'we shall be all together, and you will have Jamie and the bairnies. '

'Fine consolation, ' muttered Jean. 

'Eh well, ' said Eleanor, we must go down and meet them. '

'This fashion!' exclaimed Jean. 'Look at your hair, Ellie--blown wildabout your ears like a daft woman's, and your kirtle all over mortarand smut. My certie, you would be a bonnie lady to be Queen of Love andBeauty at a jousting-match. '

'You are no better, Jeanie, ' responded Eleanor. 

'That I ken full well, but I'd be shamed to show myself to knights andlairds that gate. And see Mary and all the lave have their hands asblack as a caird's. '

'Come and let Andie's Mary wash them, ' said that little personage, picking up fat Andrew in her arms, while he retained his beloved crab'sclaw. 'Jeanie, would you carry Johnnie, he's not sure-footed, over thestair? Annaple, take Lorn's hand over the kittle turning. '

One chamber was allotted to the entire party and their single nurse. Being far up in the tower, it ventured to have two windows in themassive walls, so thick that five-and-twenty steps from the floor wereneeded to reach the narrow slips of glass in a frame that could beremoved at will, either to admit the air or to be exchanged for solidwooden shutters to exclude storms by sea or arrows and bolts by land. The lower part of the walls was hung with very grim old tapestry, onwhich Holofernes' head, going into its bag, could just be detected;there were two great solid box-beds, two more pallets rolled up for theday, a chest or two, a rude table, a cross-legged chair, a few stools, and some deer and seal skins spread on the floor completed the furnitureof this ladies' bower. There was, unusual luxury, a chimney with ahearth and peat fire, and a cauldron on it, with a silver and a copperbasin beside it for washing purposes, never discarded by poor QueenJoanna and her old English nurse Ankaret, who had remained beside herthrough all the troubles of the stormy and barbarous country, and, though crippled by a fall and racked with rheumatism, was the chiefcomfort of the young children. She crouched at the hearth with herspinning and her beads, and exclaimed at the tossed hair and soiledhands and faces of her charges. 

Mary brought the little ones to her to be set to rights, and the eldergirls did their best with their toilette. Princesses as they were, theruddy golden tresses of Eleanor and the flaxen locks of Jean and Marywere the only ornaments that they could boast of as their own; andthough there were silken and embroidered garments of their mother's inone of the chests, their mourning forbade the use of them. The girlsonly wore the plain black kirtles that had been brought from Haddingtonat the time of the funeral, and the little boys had such homespungarments as the shepherd lads wore. 

Partly scolding, partly caressing, partly bemoaning the condition of heryoung ladies, so different from the splendours of the house of Somerset, Ankaret saw that Eleanor was as fit to be seen as circumstances wouldpermit; as to Jean and Mary, there was no trouble on that score. 

The whole was not accomplished till a horn was sounded as an intimationthat supper was ready, at five o'clock, for the entire household, andall made their way down--Jean first, in all the glory of her fair faceand beautiful hair; then Eleanor with little Lorn, as he was called, hisChristian name being James; then Annaple and Johnnie hand-in-hand, Marycarrying Andrew, and lastly old Ankaret, hobbling along with her stick, and, when out of sight, a hand on Annaple's shoulder. In public, nothingwould have made her presume so far. The hall was a huge, vaulted, stone-walled room, with a great fire on the wide hearth, and three longtables--one was cross-wise, on the dais near the fire, the other two ranthe length of the hall. The upper one was furnished with tolerably cleannapery and a few silver vessels; as to the lower ones, they were in twodegrees of comparison, and the less said of the third the better. It wasfor the men-at-arms and the lowest servants, whereas the second belongedto those of the suite of the King and Chancellor, who were not of rankto be at his table. The Lord Lion King-at-Arms was high-table company, but he was absent, and the inferior royal pursuivant was entertainingtwo of his fellows, one with the Douglas Bloody Heart, the otherwith the Lindsay Lion on a black field, besides two messengers of thedifferent clans, who looked askance at one another. 

Leaning against the wall near the window stood the young King withtwo or three youths beside him, laughing and talking over three greatdeer-hounds, and by the hearth were two elder men--one, a tall dignifiedfigure in the square cap and purple robe of a Bishop, with a face ofgreat wisdom and sweetness; the other, still taller, with slightlygrizzled hair and the weather-beaten countenance of a valiant andsagacious warrior, dressed in the leathern garments usually worn underarmour. 

As Jean emerged from the turret she was met and courteously greetedby Sir Patrick Drummond and his sons, as were also her sisters, with agrace and deference to their rank such as they hardly ever received fromthe nobles, and whose very rarity made Eleanor shy and uncomfortable, even while she was gratified and accepted it as her due. 

The Bishop inclined his head and gave them a kind smile; but they hadalready seen him in the morning, as he was residing in the castle. Hewas the most fatherly friend and kinsman the young things knew, andthough really their first cousin, they looked to him like an uncle. Heinsisted on due ceremony with them, though he had much difficulty inenforcing it, except with those Scottish knights and nobles who, likeSir Patrick Drummond, had served in France, and retained their Frenchbreeding. 

So Jean, hawk and all, had to be handed to her seat by Sir Patrick asthe guest, Eleanor by her brother, not without a little fraternal pinch, and Mary by the Bishop, who answered with a paternal caress to hermurmured entreaty that she might keep wee Andie on her lap and give himhis brose. 

It was not a sumptuous repast, the staple being a haggis, also brothwith chunks of meat and barleycorns floating in it, the meat in stringsby force of boiling. At the high table each person had a bowl, eithersilver or wood, and each had a private spoon, and a dagger to serve asknife, also a drinking-cup of various materials, from the King's goldgoblet downwards to horns, and a bannock to eat with the brose. At themiddle table trenchers and bannocks served the purpose of plates; and atthe third there was nothing interposed between the boards of the tableand the lumps of meat from which the soup had been made. 

Jean's quick eyes soon detected more men-at-arms and with differentbadges from the thyme spray of Drummond, and her brother was evidentlybursting with some communication, held back almost forcibly by theBishop, who had established a considerable influence over the impetuousboy, while Sir Patrick maintained a wise and tedious politicalconversation about the peace between France and England, which was to becemented by the marriage of the young King of England to the daughter ofKing Rene and the cession of Anjou and Maine to her father. 

'Solid dukedoms for a lassie!' cried young James. 'What a craven to makesuch a bargain!'

'Scarce like his father's son, ' returned Sir Patrick, 'who gat the bridewith a kingdom for her tocher that these folks have well-nigh lost amongthem. '

'The saints be praised if they have. '

'I cannot forget, my liege, how your own sainted father loved and foughtfor King Harry of Monmouth. Foe as he was, I own that I shall never lookon his like again. '

'I hold with you in that, Patie, ' said Bishop Kennedy; 'and frown asyou may, my young liege, a few years with such as he would do more foryou--as it did with your blessed father--than ever we can. '

'I can hold mine own, I hope, without lessons from the enemy, ' saidJames, holding his head high, while his ruddy locks flew back, his eyesglanced, and the red scar on his cheek widened. 'And is it true that youare for going through false England, Patie?'

'I made friends there when I spent two years there with your Grace'sblessed father, ' returned Sir Patrick, 'and so did my good wife. Shelongs to see the lady who is now Sister Clare at St. Katharine's inLondon, and it is well not to let her and Annis brook the long seavoyage. '

'There, Jean! I'd brook ten sea voyages rather than hold myself beholdento an Englishman!' quoth James. 

'Nevertheless, there are letters and messages that it is well to confideto so trusty and wise-headed a knight as Glenuskie, ' returned theBishop. 

The meal over, the silver bowls were carried round with water to washthe hands by the two young Drummonds, sons of Glenuskie, and by theKing's pages, youths of about the same age, after which the Bishop andSir Patrick asked licence of the King to retire for consultation tothe Bishop's apartment, a permission which, as may well be believed, hegranted readily, only rejoicing that he was not wanted. 

The little ones were carried off by Mary and Nurse Ankaret; and theKing, his elder sisters, and the other youths of condition betookthemselves, followed by half-a-dozen great dogs, to the court, wherethe Drummonds wanted to exhibit the horses procured for the journey, andJames and Jean to show the hawks that were the pride of their heart. 

By and by came an Italian priest, who acted as secretary to theBishop--a poor little man who grew yellower and yellower, was alwaysshivering, and seemed to be shrivelled into growing smaller and smallerby the Scottish winds, but who had a most keen and intelligent face. 

'How now, Father Romuald, ' called out James. 'Are ye come to fetch me?'

'Di grazia, Signor Re', began the Italian in some fear, as the dogssmelted his lambskin cape. 'The Lord Bishop entreats your Majesty'spresence. '

His Majesty, who, by the way, never was so called by any one else, uttered some bitter growls and grumbles, but felt forced to obey thecall, taking with him, however, his beautiful falcon on his wrist, andthe two huge deer-hounds, who he declared should be of the council if hewas. 

Jean and Eleanor then closed upon David and Malcolm, eagerly demandingof them what they expected in that wonderful land to which they weregoing, much against the will of young David, who was sure there would beno hunting of deer, nor hawking for grouse, nor riding after an Englishborderer or Hieland cateran--nothing, in fact, worth living for! Itwould be all a-wearying with their manners and their courtesies and suchlike daft woman's gear! Why could not his father be content to let himgrow up like his fellows, rough and free and ready?

'And knowing nothing better--nothing beyond, ' said Eleanor. 

'What would you have better than the hill and the brae? To tame a horseand fly a hawk, and couch a lance and bend a bow! That's what a man ismade for, without fashing himself with letters and Latin and manners, nobetter than a monk; but my father would always have it so!'

'Ye'll be thankful to him yet, Davie, ' put in his graver brother. 

'Thankful! I shall forget all about it as soon as I am knighted, andmake you write all my letters--and few enough there will be. '

'And you, Malcolm!' said Eleanor, 'would you be content to hide withinfour walls, and know nothing by your own eyes?'

'No indeed, cousin, ' replied the lad; 'I long for the fair churchesand cloisters and the learned men and books that my father tells of. Mymother says that her brother, that I am named for, yearned to make thisa land of peace and godliness, and to turn these high spirits to God'sglory instead of man's strife and feud, and how it might have been donesave for the slaying of your noble father--Saints rest him!--which brokemine uncle's heart, so that he died on his way home from pilgrimage. She hopes to pray at his tomb that I may tread in his steps, and be ablessing and not a curse to the land we love. '

Eleanor was silent, seeing for the first time that there might be higheraims than escaping from dulness, strife, and peril; whilst Jean cried--

''Tis the titles and jousts, the knights and ladies that I care for--menthat know what fair chivalry means, and make knightly vows to dare allsorts of foes for a lady's sake. '

'As if any lass was worth it, ' said David contemptuously. 

'Ay, that's what you are! That's what it is to live in this savagerealm, ' returned Jean. 

At this moment, however, Brother Romuald was again seen advancing, and this time with a request for the presence of the ladies Jean andEleanor. 

'Could James be relenting on better advice?' they asked one another asthey went. 

'More likely, ' said Jean, with a sigh, amounting to a groan, 'it is onlyto hear that we are made over, like a couple of kine, to some ruffianlyreivers, who will beat a princess as soon as a scullion. '

They reached the chamber in time. Though the Bishop slept there it alsoserved for a council chamber; and as he carried his chapel and householdfurniture about with him, it was a good deal more civilised-looking thaneven the princesses' room. Large folding screens, worked with tapestry, representing the lives of the saints, shut off the part used as anoratory and that which served as a bedchamber, where indeed the good manslept on a rush mat on the floor. There were a table and several chairsand stools, all capable of being folded up for transport. The young Kingoccupied a large chair of state, in which he twisted himself in a veryundignified manner; the Bishop-Chancellor sat beside him, with the GreatSeal of Scotland and some writing materials, parchments, and lettersbefore him, and Sir Patrick came forward to receive and seat the youngladies, and then remained standing--as few of his rank in Scotland wouldhave done on their account. 

'Well, lassies, ' began the King, 'here's lads enow for you. There's theMaster of Angus, as ye ken--'(Jean tossed her head)--'moreover, auldCrawford wants one of you for his son. '

'The Tyger Earl, ' gasped Eleanor. 

'And with Stirling for your portion, the modest fellow, ' added James. 'Ay, and that's not all. There's the MacAlpin threats me with all hisclan if I dinna give you to him; and Mackay is not behindhand, but willcome down with pibroch and braidsword and five hundred caterans to payhis court to you, and make short work of all others. My certie, sistersseem but a cause for threats from reivers, though maybe they would notbe so uncivil if once they had you. '

'Oh, Jamie! oh! dear holy Father, ' cried Eleanor, turning from the Kingto the Bishop, 'do not, for mercy's sake, give me over to one of thoseruffians. '

'They are coming, Eleanor, ' said James, with a boy's love of terrifying;'the MacAlpin and Mackay are both coming down after you, and we shallhave a fight like the Clan Chattan and Clan Kay. There's for thedemoiselle who craved for knights to break lances for her!'

'Knights indeed! Highland thieves, ' said Jean; 'and 'tis for what tocherthey may force from you, James, not for her face. '

'You are right there, my puir bairn, ' said the Bishop. 'These men--saveperhaps the young Master of Angus--only seek your hands as a pretextfor demands from your brother, and for spuilzie and robbery amongthemselves. And I for my part would never counsel his Grace to yield thelambs to the wolves, even to save himself. '

'No, indeed, ' broke in the King; we may not have them fighting downhere, though it would be rare sport to look on, if you were not to bethe prize. So my Lord Bishop here trows, and I am of the same mind, thatthe only safety is that the birds should be flown, and that you shouldhave your wish and be away the morn, with Patie of Glenuskie here, sincehe will take the charge of two such silly lasses. '

The sudden granting of their wish took the maidens' breath away. Theylooked from one to the other without a word; and the Bishop, in morecourtly language, explained that amid all these contending parties hecould not but judge it wiser to put the King's two marriageable sistersout of reach, either of a violent abduction, or of being the cause ofa savage contest, in either case ending in demands that would be eitherimpossible or mischievous for the Crown to grant, and moreover in miseryfor themselves. 

Sir Patrick added something courteous about the honour of the charge. 

'So soon!' gasped Jean; 'are we really to go the morn?'

'With morning light, if it be possible, fair ladies, ' said Sir Patrick. 

'Ay, ' said James, 'then will we take Mary and the weans to the nunneryin St. Mary's Wynd, where none will dare to molest them, and I shall goon to St. Andrews or Stirling, as may seem fittest; while we leave oldSeneschal Peter to keep the castle gates shut. If the Hielanders come, they'll find the nut too hard for them to crack, and the kernel gone, soyou'd best burn no more daylight, maidens, but busk ye, as women will. '

'Oh, Jamie, to speak so lightly of parting!' sighed Eleanor. 

'Come--no fule greeting, now you have your will, ' hastily said James, who could hardly bear it himself. 

'Our gear!' faltered Jeanie, with consternation at their ill-furnishedwardrobes. 

'For that, ' said the Bishop, 'you must leave the supply till you areover the Border, when the Lady Glenuskie will see to your appearing asnigh as may be as befits the daughters of Scotland among your Englishkin. '

'But we have not a mark between us, ' said Jean, 'and all my mother'sjewels are pledged to the Lombards. '

'There are moneys falling due to the Crown, ' said the Bishop, 'and I canadvance enow to Sir Patrick to provide the gear and horses. '

'And my gude wife's royal kin are my guests till they win to theirsister, ' added Sir Patrick. 

And so it was settled. It was an evening of bustle and a night ofwakefulness. There were floods of tears poured out by and over sweetlittle Mary and good old Ankaret, not to speak of those which Jamesscorned to shed. Had a sudden stop been put to the journey, perhaps, Eleanor would have been relieved but Jean sorely disappointed. 

It was further decided that Father Romuald should accompany the party, both to assist in negotiations with Henry VI. And Cardinal Beaufort, andto avail himself of the opportunity of returning to his native land, fa north, and to show cause to the Pope for erecting St. Andrews into anarchiepiscopal see, instead of leaving Scotland under the primacy ofYork. 

Hawk and harp were all the properties the princesses-errant took withthem; but Jean, as her old nurse sometimes declared, loved Skywingbetter than all the weans, and Elleen's small travelling-harp was allthat she owned of her father's--except the spirit that loved it. 

CHAPTER 2. DEPARTURE

 'I bowed my pride, A horse-boy in his train to ride. '--SCOTT. 

The Lady of Glenuskie, as she was commonly called, was a near kinswomanof the Royal House, Lilias Stewart, a grand-daughter of King Robert II. , and thus first cousin to the late King. Her brother, Malcolm Stewart, had resigned to her the little barony of Glenuskie upon his embracingthe life of a priest, and her becoming the wife of Sir Patrick Drummond, the son of his former guardian. 

Sir Patrick had served in France in the Scotch troop who came to theassistance of the Dauphin, until he was taken prisoner by his nativemonarch, James I. , then present with the army of Henry V. He had thenspent two years at Windsor, in attendance upon that prince, until bothwere set at liberty by the treaty made by Cardinal Beaufort. In themeantime, his betrothed, Lilias, being in danger at home, had beenbestowed in the household of the Countess of Warwick, where she hadbeen much with an admirable and saintly foreign lady, Esclairmonde deLuxembourg, who had taken refuge from the dissensions of her own vexedcountry among the charitable sisterhood of St. Katharine in the Docks inLondon. 

Sir Patrick and his lady had thus enjoyed far more training in thegeneral European civilisation than usually fell to the lot of theircountrymen; and they had moreover imbibed much of the spirit of thatadmirable King, whose aims at improvement, religious, moral, andpolitical, were so piteously cut short by his assassination. During thenine miserable years that had ensued it had not been possible, evenin conjunction with Bishop Kennedy, to afford any efficient support orprotection to the young King and his mother, and it had been as much asSir Patrick could do to protect his own lands and vassals, and do hisbest to bring up his children to godly, honourable, and chivalrousways; but amid all the evil around he had decided that it was well-nighimpossible to train them to courage without ruffianism, or to preventthem from being tainted by the prevailing standard. Even among theclergy and monastic orders the type was very low, in spite of theendeavours of Bishop Kennedy, who had not yet been able to found hisuniversity at St. Andrews; and it had been agreed between him and SirPatrick that young Malcolm Drummond, a devout and scholarly lad ofearnest aspiration, should be trained at the Paris University, andperhaps visit Padua and Bologna in preparation for that foundation, which, save for that cruel Eastern's E'en, would have been commenced bythe uncle whose name he bore. 

The daughter had likewise been promised in her babyhood to the Sirede Terreforte, a knight of Auvergne, who had come on a mission to theScotch Court in the golden days of the reign of James I. , and being anold companion-in-arms of Sir Patrick, had desired to unite the familiesin the person of his infant son Olivier and of Annis Drummond. 

Lady Drummond had ever since been preparing her little daughter and herwardrobe. The whole was in a good state of forwardness; but it must beconfessed that she was somewhat taken aback when she beheld two youngladies riding up the glen with her husband, sons, and their escort; andfound, on descending to welcome them, that they were neither more norless than the two eldest unmarried princesses of Scotland. 

'And Dame Lilias, ' proceeded her knight, 'you must busk and boune youto be in the saddle betimes the morn, and put Tweed between these puirlasses and their foes--or shall I say their ower well wishers?'

The ladies of Scotland lived to receive startling intelligence, andLady Drummond's kind heart was moved by the two forlorn, weary-lookingfigures, with traces of tears on their cheeks. She kissed themrespectfully, conducted them to the guest-chamber, which was manyadvances beyond their room at Dunbar in comfort, and presently left herown two daughters, Annis and Lilias, and their nurse, to take care ofthem, since they seemed to have neither mails nor attendants of theirown, while she sought out her husband, as he was being disarmed by hissons, to understand what was to be done. 

He told her briefly of the danger and perplexity in which the presenceof the two poor young princesses might involve themselves, theirbrother, and the kingdom itself, by exciting the greed, jealousy, andemulation of the untamed nobles and Highland chiefs, who would try togain them, both as an excuse for exactions from the King and out ofjealousy of one another. To take them out of reach was the only readymeans of preventing mischief, and the Bishop of St. Andrews had besoughtSir Patrick to undertake the charge. 

'We are bound to do all we can for their father's daughters, ' DameLilias owned, 'alike as our King and the best friend that ever we had, or my dear brother Malcolm, Heaven rest them both! But have they noservants, no plenishing?'

'That must we provide, ' said Sir Patrick. 'We must be their servants, Dame. Our lasses must lend them what is fitting, till we come where Ican make use of this, which my good Lord of St. Andrews gave me. '

'What is it, Patie? Not the red gold?'

'Oh no! I have heard of the like. Ye ken Morini, as they call him, theLombard goldsmith in the Canongate? Weel, for sums that the Bishop willpay to Morini, sums owing, he says, by himself to the Crown--thoughI shrewdly suspect 'tis the other way, gude man!--then the Lombard'sfellows in York, London, or Paris, or Bourges will, on seeing this bitbond, supply us up to the tune of a hundred crowns. Thou look'st mazed, Lily, but I have known the like before. 'Tis no great sum, but mayhapthe maidens' English kin will do somewhat for them before they win totheir sister. '

'I would not have them beholden to the English, ' said Dame Lilias, notforgetting that she was a Stewart. 

Her husband perhaps scarcely understood the change made in the wholeaspect of the journey to her. Not only had she to hurry her preparationsfor the early start, but instead of travelling as the mistress of theparty, she and her daughter would, in appearance at least, be the mereappendages of the two princesses, wait upon them, give them the foremostplace, supply their present needs from what was provided for themselves, and it was quite possible have likewise to control girlish petulance andinexperience in the strange lands where her charges must appear at theirvery best, to do honour to their birth and their country. 

But the loyal woman made up her mind without a word of complaint afterthe first shock, and though a busy night was not the best preparationfor a day's journey, she never lay down; nor indeed did her namesakedaughter, who was to be left at a Priory on their way, there to decidewhether she had a vocation to be a nun. 

So effectually did she bestir herself that by six o'clock the nextmorning the various packages were rolled up for bestowal on the sumpterhorses, and the goods to be left at home locked up in chests, andcommitted to the charge of the trusty seneschal and his wife; a meal, tobe taken in haste, was spread on the table in the hall, to be swallowedwhile the little rough ponies were being laden. 

Mass was to be heard at the first halting-place, the Benedictine nunneryof Trefontana on Lammermuir, where Lilias Drummond was to be left, to bepassed on, when occasion served, to the Sisterhood at Edinburgh. 

The fresh morning breezes over the world of heather brightened thecheeks and the spirits of the two sisters; the first wrench of partingwas over with them, and they found themselves treated with much moreobservance than usual, though they did not know that the horsesthey were riding had been trained for the special use of the Lady ofGlenuskie and her daughter Annis upon the journey. 

They rode on gaily, Jean with her inseparable falcon Skywing, Eleanorwith her father's harp bestowed behind her--she would trust it to no oneelse. They were squired by their two cousins, David and Malcolm, who, inspite of David's murmurs, felt the exhilaration of the future as muchas they did, as they coursed over the heather, David with two greatgreyhounds with majestic heads at his side, Finn and Finvola, as theywere called. 

The graver and sadder ones of the party, father, mother, and the twoyoung sisters, rode farther back, the father issuing directions to theseneschal, who accompanied them thus far, and the mother watching overthe two fair young girls, whose hearts were heavy in the probabilitythat they would never meet again, for how should a Scottish Benedictinenun and the wife of a French seigneur ever come together? nor wouldthere be any possibility of correspondence to bridge over the gulf. 

The nunnery was strong, but not with the strength of secular buildings, for, except when a tempting heiress had taken refuge there, conventswere respected even by the rudest men. 

Numerous unkempt and barely-clothed figures were coming away from thegates, a pilgrim or two with brown gown, broad hat, and scallop shell, the morning's dole being just over; but a few, some on crutches, some with heads or limbs bound up, were waiting for their turn of thesister-infirmarer's care. The pennon of the Drummond had already beenrecognised, and the gate-ward readily admitted the party, since thehouse of Glenuskie were well known as pious benefactors to the Church. 

They were just in time for a mass which a pilgrim priest was about tosay, and they were all admitted to the small nave of the little chapel, beyond which a screen shut off the choir of nuns. After this the ladieswere received into the refectory to break their fast, the men folk beingserved in an outside building for the purpose. It was not sumptuousfare, chiefly consisting of barley bannocks and very salt and dry fish, with some thin and sour ale; and David's attention was a good deal takenup by a man-at-arms who seemed to have attached himself to theparty, but whom he did not know, and who held a little aloof from therest--keeping his visor down while eating and drinking, in a somewhatsuspicious manner, as though to avoid observation. 

Just as David had resolved to point this person out to his father, SirPatrick was summoned to speak to the Lady Prioress. Therefore the youththought it incumbent upon him to deal with the matter, and advancingtowards the stranger, said, 'Good fellow, thou art none of ourfollowing. How, now!' for a pair of gray eyes looked up with recognitionin them, and a low voice whispered, 'Davie Drummond, keep my secret tillwe be across the Border. '

'Geordie, what means this?'

'I canna let her gang! I ken that she scorns me. '

'That proud peat Jean?'

'Whist! whist! She scorns me, and the King scarce lent a lug to myfather's gude offer, so that he can scarce keep the peace with theirpride and upsettingness. But I love her, Davie, the mere sight of her issunshine, and wha kens but in the stour of this journey I may have thechance of standing by her and defending her, and showing what a lealScot's heart can do? Or if not, if I may not win her, I shall still bein sight of her blessed blue een!'

David whistled his perplexity. 'The Yerl, ' said he, 'doth he ken?'

'I trow not! He thinks me at Tantallon, watching for the raid theMackays are threatening--little guessing the bird would be flown. '

'How cam' ye to guess that same, which was, so far as I know, onlydecided two days syne?'

'Our pursuivant was to bear a letter to the King, and I garred him letme bear him company as one of his grooms, so that I might delight mineeyes with the sight of her. '

David laughed. His time was not come, and this love and admiration forhis young cousin was absurd in his eyes. 'For a young bit lassie, ' hesaid; 'gin it had been a knight! But what will your father say to mine?'

'I will write to him when I am well over the Border, ' said Geordie, 'andgin he kens that your father had no hand in it he will deem no ill-will. Nor could he harm you if he did. '

David did not feel entirely satisfied, on one side of his mind as to hisown loyalty to his father, or Geordie's to 'the Yerl, ' and yet there wassomething diverting to the enterprising mind in the stolen expedition;and the fellow-feeling which results in honour to contemporaries madehim promise not to betray the young man and to shield him from notice asbest he might. With Geordie's motive he had no sympathy, having hadtoo many childish squabbles with his cousin for her to be in his eyes asublime Princess Joanna, but only a masterful Jeanie. 

Sir Patrick, absorbed in orders to his seneschal, did not observe theaddition to his party; and as David acted as his squire, and had beenseen talking to the young man, no further demur was made until the timewhen the home party turned to ride back to Glenuskie, and Sir Patrickmade a roll-call of his followers, picked men who could fairly betrusted not to embroil the company by excesses or imprudences in Englandor France. 

Besides himself, his wife, sons and daughters, and the two princesses, the party consisted of Christian, female attendant for the ladies, thewife of Andrew of the Cleugh, an elderly, well-seasoned man-at-arms, towhom the banner was entrusted; Dandie their son, a stalwart youth of twoor three-and-twenty, who, under his father, was in charge of the horses;and six lances besides. Sir Patrick following the French fashion, whichgave to each lance two grooms, armed likewise, and a horse-boy. Foreach of the family there was likewise a spare palfrey, with a servantin charge, and one beast of burthen, but these last were to be freshlyhired with their attendants at each stage. 

Geordie, used to more tumultuous and irregular gatherings, where any manwith a good horse and serviceable weapons was welcome to join the raid, had not reckoned on such a review of the party as was made by the oldwarrior accustomed to more regular warfare, and who made each of hiseight lances--namely, the two Andrew Drummonds, Jock of the Glen, Jockieof Braeside, Willie and Norman Armstrong, Wattie Wudspurs, and TamTelfer--answer to their names, and show up their three followers. 

'And who is yon lad in bright steel?' Sir Patrick asked. 

'Master Davie kens, sir, ' responded old Andrew. David, being called, explained that he was a leal lad called Geordie, whom he had seen inEdinburgh, and who wished to join them, go to France, and see the worldunder Sir Patrick's guidance, and that he would be at his own charges. 'And I'll be answerable for him, sir, ' concluded the lad. 

'Answer! Ha! ha! What for, eh? That he is a long-legged lad like yourain self. What more? Come, call him up!'

The stranger had no choice save to obey, and came up on a strong whitemare, which old Andrew scanned, and muttered to his son, 'The Mearnsbreed--did he come honestly by it?'

'Up with your beaver, young man, ' said Sir Patrick peremptorily; 'no manrides with me whose face I have not seen. '

A face not handsome and thoroughly Scottish was disclosed, with keenintelligence in the gray eyes, and a certain air of offended dignity, yet self-control, in the close-shut mouth. The cheeks were sunburnt andfreckled, a tawny down of young manhood was on the long upper lip, andthe short-cut hair was red; but there was an intelligent and trustworthyexpression in the countenance, and the tall figure sat on horseback withthe upright ease of one well trained. 

'Soh!' said Sir Patrick, looking him over, 'how ca' they you, lad?'

'Geordie o' the Red Peel, ' he answered. 

'That's a by-name, ' said the knight sternly; 'I must have the full nameof any man who rides with me. '

'George Douglas, then, if nothing short of that will content you!'

'Are ye sib to the Earl?'

'Ay, sir, and have rid in his company. '

'Whose word am I to take for that?'

'Mine, sir, a word that none has ever doubted, ' said the youth boldly. 'By that your son kens me. '

David here vouched for having seen the young man in the Angus following, when he had accompanied his father in the last riding of the ScotsParliament at Edinburgh; and this so far satisfied Sir Patrick thathe consented to receive the stranger into his company, but only oncondition of an oath of absolute obedience so long as he remained in thetroop. 

David could see that this had not been reckoned on by the high-spiritedMaster of Angus; and indeed obedience, save to the head of the name, wasso little a Scottish virtue that Sir Patrick was by no means unpreparedfor reluctance. 

'I give thee thy choice, laddie, ' he said, not unkindly; 'best make upyour mind while thou art still in thine own country, and can win backhome. In England and France I can have no stragglers nor loons like tohelp themselves, nor give cause for a fray to bring shame on the hailltroop in lands that are none too friendly. A raw carle like thyself, oreven these lads of mine, might give offence unwittingly, and then I'dhave to give thee up to the laws, or to stand by thee to the peril ofall, and of the ladies themselves. So there's nothing for it but strictkeeping to orders of myself and Andrew Drummond of the Cleugh, who kensas well as I do what sorts to be done in these strange lands. Wilt thouso bind thyself, or shall we part while yet there is time?'

'Sir, I will, ' said the young man, 'I will plight my word to obeyyou, and faithfully, so long as I ride under your banner in foreignparts--provided such oath be not binding within this realm of Scotland, nor against my lealty to the head of my name. '

'Nor do I ask it of thee, ' returned Sir Patrick heartily, but regardinghim more attentively; 'these are the scruples of a true man. Hast thouany following?'

'Only a boy to lead my horse to grass, ' replied George, giving apeculiar whistle, which brought to his side a shock-headed, barefootedlad, in a shepherd's tartan and little else, but with limbs as active asa wild deer, and an eye twinkling and alert. 

'He shall be put in better trim ere the English pock-puddings see him, 'said Douglas, looking at him, perhaps for the first time, as somethingunsuited to that orderly company. 

'That is thine own affair, ' said Sir Patrick. 'Mine is that he shouldcomport himself as becomes one of my troop. What's his name?'

'Ringan Raefoot, ' replied Geordie Sir Patrick began to put the oath ofobedience to him, but the boy cried out--

'I'll ne'er swear to any save my lawful lord, the Yerl of Angus, and mylord the Master. '

'Hist, Ringan, ' interposed Geordie. 'Sir, I will answer for his faith tome, and so long as he is leal to me he will be the same to thee; but Idoubt whether it be expedient to compel him. '

So did Sir Patrick, and he said--

'Then be it so, I trust to his faith to thee. Only remembering that ifhe plunder or brawl, I may have to leave him hanging on the next bush. '

'And if he doth, the Red Douglas will ken the reason why, ' quoth Ringan, with head aloft. 

It was thought well to turn a deaf ear to this observation. Indeed, Geordie's effort was to elude observation, and to keep his uncouthfollower from attracting it. Ringan was not singular in running alongwith bare feet. Other 'bonnie boys, ' as the ballad has it, trottedalong by the side of the horses to which they were attached in the likefashion, though they had hose and shoon slung over their shoulders, tobe donned on entering the good town of Berwick-upon-Tweed. 

Not without sounding of bugle and sending out a pursuivant to examineinto the intentions and authorisation of the party, were they admitted, Jean and Eleanor riding first, with the pursuivant proclaiming--'Place, place for the high and mighty princesses of Scotland. '

It was an inconvenient ceremony for poor Sir Patrick, who had to handover to the pursuivant, in the name of the princesses, a ring fromhis own finger. Largesse he could not attempt, but the proud spirit ofhimself and his train could not but be chafed at the expectant facesof the crowd, and the intuitive certainty that 'Beggarly Scotch' was inevery disappointed mind. 

And this was but a foretaste of what the two royal maidens' presencewould probably entail throughout the journey. His wife added to thiscare uneasiness as to the deportment of her three maidens. Of Annis shehad not much fear, but she suspected Jean and Eleanor of being as wildand untamed as hares, and she much doubted whether any counsels mightnot offend their dignity, and drive them into some strange behaviourthat the good people of Berwick would never forget. 

They rode in, however, very upright and stately, with an air of takingpossession of the place on their brother's behalf; and Jean bowed with acertain haughty grace to the deputy-warden who came out to receive them, Eleanor keeping her eye upon Jean and imitating her in everything. ForEleanor, though sometimes the most eager, and most apt to commit herselfby hasty words and speeches, seemed now to be daunted by the strangenessof all around, and to commit herself to the leading of her sister, though so little her junior. 

She was very silent all through the supper spread for them in the hallof the castle, while Jean exchanged conversation with their host uponIceland hawks and wolf and deer hounds, as if she had been a young ladykeeping a splendid court all her life, instead of a poverty-strickenprisoner in castle after castle. 

'Jeanie, ' whispered Eleanor, as they lay down on their bed together, 'didst mark the tall laddie that was about to seat himself at the hightable and frowned when the steward motioned him down?'

'What's that to me? An ill-nurtured carle, ' said Jean; 'I marvel SirPatie brooks him in his meinie!'

Eleanor was a little in awe of Jeanie in this mood, and said no more, but Annis, who slept on a pallet at their feet, heard all, and guessedmore as to the strange young squire. 

Fain would she and Eleanor have discussed the situation, but Jean's blueeyes glanced heedfully and defiantly at them, and, moreover, the younggentleman in question, after that one error, effaced himself, and wasforgotten for the time in the novelty of the scenes around. 

The sub-warden of Berwick, mindful of his charge to obviate alloccasions of strife, insisted on sending a knight and half-a-dozen mento escort the Scottish travellers as far as Durham. David Drummond andthe young ladies murmured to one another their disgust that the Englishpock-pudding should not suppose Scots able to keep their heads withtheir own hands; but, as Jean sagely observed, 'No doubt he would notwish them to have occasion to hurt any of the English, nor Jamie to haveto call them to account. '

This same old knight consorted with Sir Patrick, Dame Lilias, andFather Romuald, and kept a sharp eye on the little party, allowing nostraggling on any pretence, and as Sir Patrick enforced the command, allwere obliged to obey, in spite of chafing; and the scowls of the EnglishBorderers, with the scant courtesy vouchsafed by these sturdy spirits, proved the wisdom of the precaution. 

At Durham they were hospitably entertained in the absence of the Bishop. The splendour of the cathedral and its adjuncts much impressed LadyDrummond, as it had done a score of years previously; but, thoughMalcolm ventured to share her admiration, Jean was far above allowingthat she could be astonished at anything in England. In fact, sheregarded the stately towers of St. Cuthbert as so much stolen familyproperty which 'Jamie' would one day regain; and all the other youngpeople followed suit. David even made all the observations his ownsense of honour and the eyes of his hosts would permit, with a view to afuture surprise. The escort of Sir Patrick was asked to York by a Canonwho had to journey thither, and was anxious for protection from theoutlaws--who had begun to renew the doings of Robin Hood under the laxerrule of the young Henry VI, though things were expected to be bettersince the young Duke of York had returned from France. 

Perhaps this arrangement was again a precaution for the preservation ofpeace, and at York there was a splendid entertainment by Cardinal Kemp;but all the 'subtleties' and wonders--stags' heads in their horns, peacocks in their pride, jellies with whole romances depicted in them, could not reconcile the young Scots to the presumption of the Archbishopreckoning Scotland into his province. Durham was at once too monasticand too military to have afforded much opportunity for recruitingthe princesses' wardrobe; but York was the resort of the merchants ofFlanders, and Christie was sent in quest of them and their wares, fortruly the black serge kirtles and shepherd's tartan screens that hadmade the journey from Dunbar were in no condition to do honour to royaldamsels. 

Jean was in raptures with the graceful veils depending from the hornedheadgear, worn, she was told, by the Duchess of Burgundy; but Eleanorwept at the idea of obscuring the snood of a Scottish maiden, and wouldnot hear of resigning it. 

'I feel as Elleen no more, ' she said, 'but a mere Flanders popinjay. Ithas changed my ain self upon me, as well as the country. '

'Thou shouldst have been born in a hovel!' returned Jean, raising herproud little head. 'I feel more than ever what I am--a true princess!'

And she looked it, with beauty enhanced by the rich attire which onlymade Eleanor embarrassed and uncomfortable. 

Malcolm, the more scrupulous of the Drummond brothers, begged of GeorgeDouglas, when at Durham, to write to his father and declare himself toSir Patrick, but the youth would do neither. He did not think himselfsufficiently out of reach, and, besides, the very sight of a pen wasabhorrent to him. There was something pleasing to him in the liberty ofa kind of volunteer attached to the expedition, and he would not give itup. Nor was he without some wild idea of winning Jean's notice by somegallant exploit on her behalf before she knew him for the object of herprejudice, the Master of Angus. As to Sir Patrick, he was far too busytrying to compose Border quarrels, and gleaning information about theGloucester and Beaufort parties at Court, to have any attention to sparefor the young man riding in his suite with the barefooted lad ever athis stirrup. 

Geordie never attempted to secure better accommodation than the otherlances; he groomed his steed himself, with a little assistance fromRingan, and slept in the straw of its bed, with the lad curled up at hisfeet; the only difference observable between him and the rest being thathe always groomed himself every night and morning as carefully as thehorse, a ceremony they thought entirely needless. 

CHAPTER 3. FALCON AND FETTERLOCK

 'Ours is the sky Where at what fowl we please our hawk shall fly. ' --T. Randolph. 

Beyond York that species of convoy, which ranged between protection andsupervision, entirely ceased; the Scottish party moved on their own wa oftener through heath, rock, and moor, for England was not yet thicklyinhabited, though there was no lack of hostels or of convents to receivethem on this the great road to the North, and to its many shrines forpilgrimage. 

Perhaps Sir Patrick relaxed a little of his vigilance, since the goodbehaviour of his troop had won his confidence, and they were less likelyto be regarded as invaders than by the inhabitants of the districtnearer their own frontier. 

Hawking and coursing within bounds had been permitted by both the Knightof Berwick and the Canon of Durham on the wide northern moors; but SirPatrick, on starting in the morning of the day when they were enteringNorthamptonshire, had given a caution that sport was not free in themore frequented parts of England, and that hound must not be loosed norhawk flown without special permission from the lord of the manor. 

He was, however, riding in the rear of the rest, up a narrow laneleading uphill, anxiously discussing with Father Romuald the expediencyof seeking hospitality from any of the great lords whose castles mightbe within reach before he had full information of the present state offactions at the Court, when suddenly his son Malcolm came riding back, pushing up hastily. 

'Sir! father!' he cried, 'there's wud wark ahead, there's a flight ofunco big birds on before, and Lady Jean's hawk is awa' after them, andJeanie's awa' after the hawk, and Geordie Red Peel is awa' after Jean, and Davie's awa' after Geordie; and there's the blast of an Englishbugle, and my mither sent me for you to redd the fray!'

'Time, indeed!' said Sir Patrick with a sigh, and, setting spurs to hishorse, he soon was beyond the end of the lane, on an open heath, wheresome of his troop were drawn up round his banner, almost forciblykept back by Dame Lilias and the elder Andrew. He could not stop forexplanation from them, indeed his wife only waved him forward towardsa confused group some hundred yards farther off, where he could see anumber of his own men, and, too plainly, long bows and coats of Lincolngreen, and he only hoped, as he galloped onward, that they belongedto outlaws and not to rangers. Too soon he saw that his hope was vain;there were ten or twelve stout archers with the white rosette of Yorkin their bonnets, the falcon and fetterlock on their sleeves, andthe Plantagenet quarterings on their breasts. In the midst was a deadbustard, also an Englishman sitting up, with his head bleeding; Jeanwas on foot, with her dagger-knife in one hand, and holding fast to herbreast her beloved hawk, whose jesses were, however, grasped by one ofthe foresters. Geordie of the Red Peel stood with his sword at his feet, glaring angrily round, while Sir Patrick, pausing, could hear his sonDavid's voice in loud tones--

'I tell you this lady is a royal princess! Yes, she is'--as there was akind of scoff--'and we are bound on a mission to your King from the Kingof Scots, and woe to him that touches a feather of ours. '

'That may be, ' said the one who seemed chief among the English, 'butthat gives no licence to fly at the Duke's game, nor slay his forestersfor doing their duty. If we let the lady go, hawk and man must havetheir necks wrung, after forest laws. '

'And I tell thee, ' cried Davie, 'that this is a noble gentleman ofScotland, and that we will fight for him to the death. '

'Let it alone, Davie, ' said George. 'No scathe shall come to the ladythrough me. '

'Save him, Davie! save Skywing!' screamed Jean. 

'To the rescue--a Drummond, ' shouted David; but his father pushed hishorse forward, just as the men in green, were in the act of stringing, all at the same moment, their bows, as tall as themselves. They were notso many but that his escort might have overpowered them, but only withheavy loss, and the fact of such a fight would have been most disastrous. 

'What means this, sirs?' he exclaimed, in a tone of authority, wavingback his own men; and his dignified air, as well as the banner withwhich Andrew followed him, evidently took effect on the foresters, whoperhaps had not believed the young men. 

'Sir Patie, my hawk!' entreated Jean. 'She did but pounce on yon uncougsome bird, and these bloodthirsty grasping loons would have wrung herneck. '

'She took her knife to me, ' growled the wounded man, who had risen tohis feet, and showed bleeding fingers. 

'Ay, for meddling with a royal falcon, ' broke in Jean. ''Tis thou, falseloon, whose craig should be raxed. '

Happily this was an unknown tongue to the foresters, and Sir Patrickgravely silenced her. 

'Whist, lady, brawls consort not with your rank. Gang back doucely to myleddy. '

'But Skywing! he has her jesses, ' said the girl, but in a lower tone, asthough rebuked. 

'Sir ranger, ' said Sir Patrick courteously, 'I trust you will letthe young demoiselle have her hawk. It was loosed in ignorance andheedlessness, no doubt, but I trow it is the rule in England, aselsewhere, that ladies of the blood royal are not bound by forest laws. '

'Sir, if we had known, ' said the ranger, who was evidently of gentleblood, as he took his foot off the jesses, and Jean now allowed David toremount her. 

'But my Lord Duke is very heedful of his bustards, and when Roger therewent to seize the bird, my young lady was over-ready with her knife. '

'Who would not be for thee, my bird?' murmured Jean. 

'And yonder big fellow came plunging down and up with his sword--so ashe was nigh on being the death of poor Roger again for doing his duty. If such be the ways of you Scots, sir, they be not English ways under myLord Duke, that is to say, and if I let the lady and her hawk go, forestlaw must have its due on the young man there--I must have him up toFotheringay to abide the Duke's pleasure. '

'Heed me not, Sir Patrick!' exclaimed Geordie. 'I would not have thoseof your meinie brought into jeopardy for my cause. '

David was plucking his father's mantle to suggest who George was, whichin fact Sir Patrick might suspect enough to be conscious of the fullawkwardness of the position, and to abandon the youth was impossible. Though it was not likely that the Duke of York would hang him if awareof his rank, he might be detained as a hostage or put to heavy ransom, or he might never be brought to the Duke's presence at all, but be putto death by some truculent underling, incredulous of a Scotsman's tale, if indeed he were not too proud to tell it. Anyway, Sir Patrick feltbound to stand by him. 

'Good sir, ' said he to the forester, 'will it content thee if we all gowith thee to thy Duke? The two Scottish princesses are of his kin, andnear of blood to King Henry, whom they are about to visit at Windsor. Iam on a mission thither on affairs of state, but I shall be willing tomake my excuses to him for any misdemeanour committed on his lands by myfollowers. '

The forester was consenting, when George cried--

'I'll have no hindrance to your journey on my account, Sir Patrick. Letme answer for myself. '

'Foolish laddie, ' said the knight. 'Father Romuald and I were only nowconferring as to paying the Duke a visit on our way. Sir forester, weshall be beholden to you for guiding us. '

He further inquired into the ranger's hurts, and salved them with apiece of gold, while David thought proper to observe to George--

'So much for thy devoir to thy princess! It was for Skywing's craig shecared, never thine. '

George turned a deaf ear to the insinuation. He was allowed free handsand his own horse, which was perhaps well for the Englishmen, for RinganRaefoot, running by his stirrup, showed him a long knife, and said witha grin--

'Ready for the first who daurs to lay hands on the Master! Gin I couldhave come up in time, the loon had never risen from the ground. '

George endeavoured in vain to represent how much worse this would havemade their condition. 

Sir Patrick, joining the ladies, informed them of the necessity ofturning aside to Fotheringay, which he had done not very willingly, being ignorant of the character of the Duke of York, except as one ofthe war party against France and Scotland, whereas the Beauforts werefor peace. As a vigorous governor of Normandy, he had not commendedhim self to one whose sympathies were French. Lady Drummond, however, remembered that his wife, Cicely Nevil, the Rose of Raby, was youngersister to that Ralf Nevil who had married the friend of her youth, AliceMontagu, now Countess of Salisbury in her own right. 

Sir Patrick did not let Jean escape a rebuke. 

'So, lady, you see what perils to brave men you maids can cause by alittle heedlessness. '

'I never asked Geordie to put his finger in, ' returned Jean saucily. 'I could have brought off Skywing for myself without such a clamjamfrieafter me. '

But Eleanor and Annis agreed that it was as good as a ballad, and oughtto be sung in one, only Jean would have to figure as the 'dour lassie. 'For she continued to aver, by turns, that Geordie need never havemeddled, and that of course it was his bounden duty to stand by hisKing's sister, and that she owed him no thanks. If he were hanged for ithe had run his craig into the noose. 

So she tossed her proud head, and toyed with her falcon, as all rode ontheir way to Fotheringay, with Geordie in the midst of the rangers. 

It was so many years since there had been serious war in England, that the castles of the interior were far less of fortresses than ofmagnificent abodes for the baronage, who had just then attained theirfullest splendour. It may be observed that the Wars of the Roses werefor the most part fought out in battles, not by sieges. Thus Fotheringayhad spread out into a huge pile, which crowned the hill above, with astrong inner court and lofty donjon tower indeed, and with mightywalls, but with buildings for retainers all round, reaching down tothe beautiful newly-built octagon-towered church; and with a great parkstretching for miles, for all kinds of sport. 

'All this enclosed! Yet they make sic a wark about their bustards, asthey ca' them, ' muttered Jean. 

The forester had sent a messenger forward to inform the Duke of Yorkof his capture. The consequence was that the cavalcade had no soonercrossed the first drawbridge under the great gateway of the castle, where the banner of Plantagenet was displayed, than before it were seena goodly company, in the glittering and gorgeous robes of the fifteenthcentury. 

There was no doubt of welcome. Foremost was a graceful, slenderly-madegentleman about thirty years old, in rich azure and gold, who doffed hiscap of maintenance, turned up with fur, and with long ends, and, bowinglow, declared himself delighted that the princesses of Scotland, hisgood cousins, should honour his poor dwelling. 

He gave his hand to assist Jean to alight, and an equally gorgeous butmuch younger gentleman in the same manner waited on Eleanor. A tall, grizzled, sunburnt figure received Lady Drummond with recognition onboth sides, and the words, 'My wife is fain to see you, my honouredlady: is this your daughter?' with a sign to a tall youth, who tookAnnis from her horse. Dame Lilias heard with joy that the Countess ofSalisbury was actually in the castle, and in a few moments more she wasin the great hall, in the arms of the sweet Countess Alice of her youth, who, middle-aged as she was, with all her youthful impulsiveness had notwaited for the grand and formal greeting bestowed on the princesses byher stately young sister-in-law, the Duchess of York. 

There seemed to be a perfect crowd of richly-dressed nobles, ladies, children; and though the Lady Joanna held her head up in full state, andkept her eye on her sister to make her do the same, their bewildermentwas great; and when they had been conducted to a splendid chamber, within that allotted to the Drummond ladies, tapestry-hung, and withsilver toilette apparatus, to prepare for supper, Jean dropped upon ahigh-backed chair, and insisted that Dame Lilias should explain to herexactly who each one was. 

'That slight, dark-eyed carle who took me off my horse was the Duke ofYork, of course, ' said she. 'My certie, a bonnie Scot would make shortwork of him, bones and all! And it would scarce be worth while to give aclout to the sickly lad that took Elleen down. '

'Hush, Jean, ' said Eleanor; 'some one called him King! Was he King Harryhimself?'

'Oh no, ' said Dame Lilias, smiling; 'only King Harry of the Isle ofWight--a bit place about the bigness of Arran; but it pleased theEnglish King to crown him and give him a ring, and bestow on him therealm in a kind of sport. He is, in sooth, Harry Beauchamp, Earl ofWarwick, and was bred up as the King's chief comrade and playfellow. '

'And what brings him here?'

'So far as I can yet understand, the family and kin have gathered forthe marriage of his sister, the Lady Anne--the red-cheeked maiden in therose-coloured kirtle--to the young Sir Richard Nevil, the same who gavehis hand to thee, Annis--the son of my Lord of Salisbury. '

'That was the old knight who led thee in, mother, ' said Annis. 'Did yousay he was brother to the Duchess?'

'Even so. There were fifteen or twenty Nevils of Raby--he was one of theeldest, she one of the youngest. Their mother was a Beaufort, aunt toyours. '

'Oh, I shall never unravel them!' exclaimed Eleanor, spreading out herhands in bewilderment. 

Lady Drummond laughed, having come to the time of life when ladies enjoygenealogies. 

'It will be enough, ' she said, 'to remember that almost all are, likeyourselves, grandchildren or great-grandchildren to King Edward ofWindsor. '

Jean, however, wanted to know which were nearest to herself, and whichwere noblest. The first question Lady Drummond said she could hardlyanswer; perhaps the Earl of Salisbury and the Duchess, but the Duke wascertainly noblest by birth, having a double descent from King Edward, and in the male line. 

'Was not his father put to death by this King's father?' asked Eleanor. 

'Ay, the Earl of Cambridge, for a foul plot. I have heard my Lord ofSalisbury speak of it; but this young man was of tender years, andKing Harry of Monmouth did not bear malice, but let him succeed to thedukedom when his uncle was killed in the Battle of Agincourt. '

'They have not spirit here to keep up a feud, ' said Jean. 

'My good brother--ay, and your father, Jeanie--were wont to say theywere too Christian to hand on a feud, ' observed Dame Lilias, at whichJean tossed her head, and said--

'That may suit such a carpet-knight as yonder Duke. He is not so tall asElleen there, nor as his own Duchess. '

'I do not like the Duchess, ' said Annis; 'she looks as if she scornedthe very ground she walks on. '

'She is wondrous bonnie, though, ' said Eleanor; 'and so was the bairnieby her side. '

In some degree Jean changed her opinion of the Duke, in consequence, perhaps, of the very marked attention that he showed her when the supperwas spread. She had never been so made to feel what it was to be at oncea king's daughter and a beauty; and at the most magnificent banquet shehad ever known. 

Durham had afforded a great advance on Scottish festivities; but in theabsence of its Prince Bishop, another Nevil, it had lacked much of whatwas to be found at Fotheringay in the full blossoming of the splendoursof the princely nobility of England, just ere the decimation that theywere to perpetrate on one another. 

The hall itself was vast, and newly finished in the rich culmination ofGothic work, with a fan tracery-vaulted roof, a triumph of architecture, each stalactite glowing with a shield or a badge of England, France, Mortimer, and Nevil--lion or lily, falcon and fetterlock, white rose anddun cow, all and many others--likewise shining in the stained glass ofthe great windows. 

The high table was loaded with gold and silver plate, and Venice glasseseven more precious; there were carpets under the feet of the noblerguests, and even the second and third tables were spread with morerichness and refinement than ever the sisters of James II had knownin their native land. In a gallery above, the Duke's musicians and thechoristers of his chapel were ready to enliven the meal; and as thechief guest, the Lady Joanna of Scotland was handed to her place by theDuke of York, who, as she now perceived, though small in stature, waseminently handsome and graceful, and conversed with her, not as a merechild, but as a fair lady of full years. 

Eleanor, who sat on his other hand beside the Earl of Salisbury, wasrather provoked with her sister for never asking after the fate of herchampion; but was reassured by seeing his red head towering among thenumerous squires and other retainers of the second rank. It certainlywas not his proper place, but it was plain that he was not in disgrace;and in fact the whole affair had been treated as a mere pardonableblunder of the rangers. The superior one was sitting next to the youngScot, making good cheer with him. Grand as the whole seemed to thetravellers, it was not an exceptional banquet; indeed, the Duchessapologised for its simplicity, since she had been taken at unawares, evidently considering it as the ordinary family meal. There was ampleprovision, served up in by no means an unrefined manner, even to themultitudinous servants and retainers of the various trains; and beyond, on the steps and in the court, were a swarm of pilgrims, friars, poor, and beggars of all kinds, waiting for the fragments. 

It was a wet evening, and when the tables were drawn the guests devotedthemselves to various amusements. Lord Salisbury challenged Sir Patrickto a game at chess, Lady Salisbury and Dame Lilias wished for nothingbetter than to converse over old times at Middleham Castle; but theyounger people began with dancing, the Duke, who was only thirty yearsold, leading out the elder Scottish princess, and the young King of theIsle of Wight the stately and beautiful Duchess Cicely. Eleanor, who knew she did not excel in anything that required grace, and was, besides, a good deal fatigued, would fain have excused herself whenpaired with the young Richard Nevil; but there was a masterful lookabout him that somewhat daunted her, and she obeyed his summons, thoughwithout acquitting herself with anything approaching to the dexterityof her sister, who, with quite as little practice as herself, dancedwell--by quickness of eye and foot, and that natural elegance ofmovement which belongs to symmetry. 

The dance was a wreathing in and out of the couples, including allof rank to dance together, and growing more and more animated, tillexcitement took the place of weariness; and Eleanor's pale cheeks wereflushed, her eyes glowing, when the Duchess's signal closed the dance. 

Music was then called for, and several of the princely company sang tothe lute; Jean, pleased to show there was something in which her sisterexcelled, and gratified at some recollections that floated up of herfather's skill in minstrelsy, insisted on sending for Eleanor's harp. 

'Oh, Jean, not now; I canna, ' murmured Eleanor, who had been sittingwith fixed eyes, as though in a dream. 

But the Duke and other nobles came and pressed her, and Jean whisperedto her not to show herself a fule body, and disgrace herself beforethe English, setting the harp before her and attending to the strings. Eleanor's fingers then played over them in a dreamy, fitful way, thatmade the old Earl raise his head and say--

'That twang carries me back to King Harry's tent, and the good old timewhen an Englishman's sword was respected. '

''Tis the very harp, ' said Sir Patrick; 'ay, and the very tune--'

'Come, Elleen, begin. What gars thee loiter in that doited way?'insisted Jean. 'Come, "Up atween. "'

And, led by her sister in spite of herself, almost, as it were, withoutvolition, Eleanor's sweet pathetic voice sang--

 'Up atween yon twa hill-sides, lass, Where I and my true love wont to be, A' the warld shall never ken, lass, What my true love said to me. 

 'Owre muckle blinking blindeth the ee, lass, Owre muckle thinking changeth the mind, Sair is the life I've led for thee, lass, Farewell warld, for it's a' at an end. '

Her voice had been giving way through the last verse, and in the finalline, with a helpless wail of the harp, she hid her face, and sank backwith a strange choked agony. 

'Why, Elleen! Elleen, how now?' cried Jean. 'Cousin Lilias, come!'

Lady Drummond was already at her side, and the Duchess and LadySalisbury proffering essences and cordials, the gentlemen offeringsupport; but in a moment or two Eleanor recovered enough to cling toLady Drummond, muttering--

'Oh, take me awa', take me awa'!'

And hushing the scolding which Jean was commencing by way of bracing, and rejecting all the kind offers of service, Dame Lilias led the girlaway, leaving Jean to make excuses and explanations about her sisterbeing but 'silly' since they had lost their mother, and the tune mindingher of home and of her father. 

When, with only Annis following, the chambers had been reached, Eleanorlet herself sink on a cushion, hiding her face against her friend, andsobbing hysterically--

'Oh, take me awa', take me awa'! It's all blood and horror!'

'My bairnie, my dearie! You are over-weary--'tis but a dreamy fancy. Look up! All is safe; none can harm you here. '

With soothings, and with some of the wine on the table, Lady Drummondsucceeded in calming the girl, and, with Annis's assistance, sheundressed her and placed her in the bed. 

'Oh, do not gang! Leave me not, ' she entreated. And as the lady sat byher, holding her hand, she spoke, 'It was all dim before me as the musicplayed, and--'

'Thou wast sair forefaughten, dearie. '

Eleanor went on--

'And then as I touched mine harp, all, all seemed to swim in a mist ofblood and horror. There was the old Earl and the young bridegroom, andmany and many more of them, with gaping wounds and deathly faces--allbut the young King of the Isle of Wight and his shroud, his shroud, Cousin Lily, it was up to his breast; and the ladies' faces that wereso blithe, they were all weeping, ghastly, and writhen; and they werewhirling round a great sea of blood right in the middle of the hall, andI could--I could bear it no longer. '

Lady Drummond controlled herself, and for the sake both of the sobbingprincess and of her own shuddering daughter said that this terriblevision came of the fatigue of the day, and the exhaustion and excitementthat had followed. She also knew that on poor Eleanor that fearfulEastern's Eve had left an indelible impression, recurring in anystate of weakness or fever. She scarcely marvelled at the strange andfrightful fancies, except that she believed enough in second-sight tobe concerned at the mention of the shroud enfolding the young Beauchamp, who bore the fanciful title of the King of the Isle of Wight. 

For the present, however, she applied herself to the comforting ofEleanor with tender words and murmured prayers, and never left her tillshe had slept and wakened again, her full self, upon Jean coming up tobed at nine o'clock--a very late hour--escorted by sundry of the ladiesto inquire for the patient. 

Jean was still excited, but she was, with all her faults, very fond ofher sister, and obeyed Lady Drummond in being as quiet as possible. She seemed to take it as a matter of course that Elleen should have herstrange whims. 

'Mother used to beat her for them, ' she said, 'but Nurse Ankaret saidthat made her worse, and we kept them secret as much as we could. Tothink of her having them before all that English folk! But she will beall right the morn. '

This proved true; after the night's rest Eleanor rose in the morningas if nothing had disturbed her, and met her hosts as if no visionshad hung around them. It was well, for Sir Patrick had accepted theinvitation courteously given by the Duke of York to join the greatcavalcade with which he, with his brothers-in-law, the Earl of Salisburyand Bishop of Durham, and the Earl of Warwick, alias the King of theIsle of Wight, were on their way to the Parliament that was summonedanent the King's marriage. The unwilling knights of the shire andburgesses of Northampton who would have to assist in the money granthad asked his protection; and all were to start early on the Monday--forSunday was carefully observed as a holiday, and the whole party in alltheir splendours attended high mass in the beautiful church. 

After time had been given for the ensuing meal, all the yeomen and youngmen of the neighbourhood came up to the great outer court of the castle, where there was ample space for sports and military exercises, shootingwith the long and cross bow, riding at the quintain and the like, incompetitions with the grooms and men-at-arms attached to the retinue ofthe various great men; and the wives, daughters, and sweethearts cameup to watch them. For the most successful there were prizes of leatherncoats, bows, knives, and the like, and refreshments of barley-bread, beef, and very small beer, served round with a liberal hand by thetroops of servants bearing the falcon and fetterlock badge, and all wasdone not merely in sport but very much in earnest, in the hope on thepart of the Duke, and all who were esteemed patriotic, that these youthsmight serve in retaining at least, if not in recovering, the Englishconquests. 

Those of gentle blood abstained from their warlike exercises on this dayof the week, but they looked on from the broad walk in the thickness ofthe massive walls; the Duke with his two beautiful little boys by hisside, the young Earls of March and Rutland, handsome fair children, inwhom the hereditary blue eyes and fair complexion of the Plantagenetsrecurred, and who bade fair to surpass their father in stature. Theirmother was by right and custom to distribute the prizes, but she alwaysdisliked doing so, and either excused herself, or reached them outwith the ungracious demeanour that had won for her the muttered nameof 'Proud Cis'. On this day she had avoided the task on the plea of theoccupations caused by her approaching journey, and the Duke put in herplace his elder boy and his little cousin, Lady Anne Beauchamp, thechild of the young King of the Isle of Wight--a short-lived littledelicate being, but very fair and pretty, so that the two childrentogether upon a stone chair, cushioned with red velvet, were like afairy king and queen, and there was many a murmur of admiration, and'Bless their little hearts' or 'their sweet faces, ' as Anne's daintyfingers handled the prizes, big bows or knives, arrows or belts, andEdward had a smile and appropriate speech for each, such as 'Shoot at aFrenchman's breast next time, Bob'; 'There's a knife to cut up the deerwith, Will, ' and the like amenities, at which his father nodded, wellpleased to see the arts of popularity coming to him by nature. Sir Patrick watched with grave eyes, as he thought of his belovedsovereign's desire to see his people thus practised in arms withoutperil of feud and violence to one another. 

Jean looked on, eager to see some of the Scots of their own escortexcel the English pock-puddings, but though Dandie and two or threemore contended, the habits were too unfamiliar for them to win any greatdistinction, and George Douglas did not come forward; the competitionwas not for men of gentle blood, and success would have brought himforward in a manner it was desirable to avoid. There was a good deal ofmerry talk between Jean and the hosts, enemies though she regardedthem. The Duke of York was evidently much struck with her beauty andliveliness, and he asked Sir Patrick in private whether there wereany betrothal or contract in consequence of which he was taking her toFrance. 

'None, ' said Sir Patrick, 'it is merely to be with her sister, theDauphiness. '

'Then, ' said young Richard Nevil, who was standing by him, and seemed tohave instigated the question, 'there would be no hindrance supposing shestruck the King's fancy. '

'The King is contracted, ' said Sir Patrick. 

'Half contracted! but to the beggarly daughter of a Frenchman who callshimself king of half-a-dozen realms without an acre in any of them. Itis not gone so far but that it might be thrown over if he had sense andspirit not to be led by the nose by the Cardinal and Suffolk. '

'Hush-hush, Dick! this is dangerous matter, ' said the Duke, and SirPatrick added--

'These ladies are nieces to the Cardinal. '

'That is well, and it would win the more readily consent--even thoughSuffolk and his shameful peace were thrown over, ' eagerly said thefuture king-maker. 

'Gloucester would be willing, ' added the Duke. 'He loved the damsel'sfather, and hateth the French alliance. '

'I spoke with her, ' added Nevil, 'and, red-hot little Scot as she is, she only lacks an English wedlock to make her as truly English, whichthis wench of Anjou can never be. '

'She would give our meek King just the spring and force he needs, ' saidthe Duke; 'but thou wilt hold thy peace, Sir Knight, and let no whisperreach the women-folk. '

This Sir Patrick readily promised. He was considerably tickled by theidea of negotiating such an important affair for his young King and hisprotegee, feeling that the benefit to Scotland might outweigh any qualmsas to the disappointment to the French allies. Besides, if King Henry ofWindsor should think proper to fall in love with her, he could not helpit; he had not brought her away from home or to England with any suchpurpose; he had only to stand by and let things take their course, solong as the safety and honour of her, her brother, and the kingdomwere secure. So reasoned the canny Scot, but he held his tongue to hisLilias. 

CHAPTER 4. ST. HELEN S

 'I thought King Henry had resembled thee, In courage, courtship, and proportion: But all his mind is bent to holiness, To number Ave-Maries on his beads: His champions are the prophets and apostles; His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ. ' King Henry VI. 

George Douglas's chivalrous venture in defence of the falcon of hislady-love had certainly not done much for him hitherto, as Davieobserved. The Lady Joanna, as every one now called her, took it as onlythe bounden duty and natural service of one of her suite, and would havecared little for his suffering for it personally, except so far as itconcerned her own dignity, which she understood much better than shehad done in Scotland, where she was only one of 'the lassies, ' anencumbrance to every one. 

The York retainers had dropped all idea of visiting his offence uponDouglas when they found that he had acted in the service of an honouredguest of their lord, but they did not look with much favour on him oron any other of the Scottish troop, whom their master enjoined them totreat as guests and comrades. 

The uniting of so many suites of the mighty nobles of the fifteenthcentury formed quite a little army, amounting to some two or threehundred horsemen, mostly armed, and well appointed, with their masters'badges on their sleeves, --falcon and fetterlock, dun cow, bear andragged staff and the cross of Durham, while all likewise wore in theircaps the white rose. Waggons with household furniture and kitchenneedments had been sent in advance with the numerous 'black guard, ' anda provision of cattle for slaughter accompanied these, since it was oneof the considerate acts that already had won affection to Richard ofYork that, unlike many of the great nobles, he always avoided as much aspossible letting his train be oppressive to the country-people. 

David Drummond had been seeing that all his father's troop were dulyprovided with the Drummond badge, the thyme, which was requisite asshowing them accepted of the Duke of York's company, but as George andhis follower had never submitted to wear it, he was somewhat surprisedto find the gray blossom prominent in George's steel-guarded cap, and tohear him saying--

'Don it, Ringan, as thou wouldst obey me. '

'His father's son is not his own father, ' said Ringan sulkily. 

'Then tak' thy choice of wearing it, or winning hame as thou canst--mostlike hanging on the nearest oak. '

'And I'd gey liefer than demean myself in the Drummond thyme!' repliedRingan, half turning away. 'But then what would come of Gray Meg wi'only the Master to see till her, ' muttered he, caressing the mare'sneck. 'Weel, aweel, sir'--and he held out his hand for the despisedspray. 

'Is yon thy wild callant, Geordie?' said David in some surprise, forRingan was not only provided with a pony, but his thatch of tow-likehair had been trimmed and covered with a barret cap, and his leatherncoat and leggings were like those of the other horse-boys. 

'Ay, ' said George, 'this is no place to be ower kenspeckle. '

'I was coming to ask, ' said David, 'if thou wouldst not own thyself tomy father, and take thy proper place ere ganging farther south. It irksme to see some of the best blood in Scotland among the grooms. '

'It must irk thee still, Davie, ' returned George. 'These English folkmight not thole to see my father's son in their hands without winningsomething out of him, and I saw by what passed the other day that thouand thy father would stand by me, hap what hap, and I'll never embroilhim and peril the lady by my freak. '

'My father kens pretty well wha is riding in his companie, ' said David. 

'Ay, but he is not bound to ken. '

'And thou winna write to the Yerl, as ye said ye would when ye were owerthe Border? There's a clerk o' the Bishop of Durham ganging back, andmy father is writing letters that he will send forward to the King, andthou couldst get a scart o' the pen to thy father. '

'And what wad be thought of a puir man-at-arms sending letters tothe Yerl?' said George. 'Na, na; I may write when we win to France, a friendly land, but while we are in England, the loons shall makenaething out of my father's son. '

'Weel, gang thine ain gait, and an unco strange one it is, ' said David. 'I marvel what thou count'st on gaining by it!'

'The sicht of her at least, ' said George. 'Nay, she needed a stout handonce, she may need it again. '

Whereat David waved his hands in a sort of contemptuous wonder. 

'If it were the Duchess of York now!' he said. 'She is far bonnier andeven prouder, gin that be what tak's your fancy! And as to our Jeanie, they are all cockering her up till she'll no be content with a king. Idoot me if the Paip himself wad be good enough for her!'

It was true that the brilliant and lively Lady Joanna was in high favourwith the princely gallants of the cavalcade. The only member of theparty at all equal to her in beauty was the Duchess of York, whotravelled in a whirlicote with her younger children and her ladies, andat the halting-places never relaxed the stiff dignity with which shetreated every one. Eleanor did indeed accompany her sister, but she hadnot Jean's quick power of repartee, and she often answered at haphazard, and was not understood when she did reply; nor had she Jean's beauty, so that in the opinion of most of the young nobles she was but a raw, almost dumb, Scotswoman, and was left to herself as much as courtesypermitted, except by the young King of the Isle of Wight, a gentle, poetical personage, in somewhat delicate health, with tastes that madehim the chosen companion of the scholarly King Henry. He could repeat agreat deal of Chaucer's poetry by heart, the chief way in which peoplecould as yet enjoy books, and there was an interchange between them of"Blind Harry" and of the "Canterbury Tales", as they rode side by side, sometimes making their companions laugh, and wonder that the youthfulqueen was not jealous. Dame Lilias found her congenial companion in theCountess Alice of Salisbury, who could talk with her of that goldenage of the two kings, Henry and James, of her brother Malcolm, and ofEsclairmonde de Luxembourg, now Sister Clare, whom they hoped soon tosee in the sisterhood of St. Katharine's. 

'Hers hath been the happy course, the blessed dedication, ' said CountessAlice. 

'We have both been blessed too, thanks to the saints, ' returned Lilias. 

'That is indeed sooth, ' replied the other lady. 'My lord hath ever beenmost good to me, and I have had joy of my sons. Yet there is much thatmy mind forbodes and shrinks back from in dread, as I watch my sonRichard's overmastering spirit. '

'The Cardinal and the Duke of Gloucester have long been at strife, as weheard, ' said Lady Drummond, 'but sure that will be appeased now that theCardinal is an old man and your King come to years of discretion. '

'The King is a sweet youth, a very saint already, ' replied the Countess, 'but I misdoubt whether he have the stout heart and strong hand of hisfather, and he is set on peace. '

'Peace is to be followed, ' said Lilias, amazed at the tone in which herfriend mentioned it. 

'Peace at home! Ay, but peace at home is only to be had by war abroad. Peace abroad without honour only leaves these fiery spirits to fume, and fly at one another's throats, or at those who wrought it. My mindmisgives me, mine old friend, lest wrangling lead to blows. I had rathersee my Richard spurring against the French than against his cousins ofSomerset, and while they advance themselves and claim to be nearer inblood to the King than our good host of York, so long will there because of bitterness. '

'Our kindly host seems to wish evil to no man. '

'Nay, he is content enough, but my sister his wife, and alas! my son, cannot let him forget that after the Duke of Gloucester he is highest inthe direct male line to King Edward of Windsor, and in the female linestands nearer than this present King. '

'In Scotland he would not forget that his father suffered for that verycause. '

'Ah, Lilias, thou hast seen enow of what such blood-feuds work inScotland to know how much I dread and how I pray they may never awakenhere. The blessed King Harry of Monmouth kept them down by the stronghand, while he won all hearts to himself. It is my prayer that his youngson may do the like, and that my Lord of York be not fretted out of hispeaceful loyalty by the Somerset "outrecuidance", and above all thatmy own son be not the make-bate; but Richard is proud and fiery, and Ifear--I greatly fear, what may be in store for us. '

Lilias thought of Eleanor's vision, but kept silence respecting it. 

Forerunners had been sent on by the Duke of York to announce his coming, and who were in his company; and on the last stage these returned, bringing with them a couple of knights and of clerks on the part of theCardinal of Winchester to welcome his great-nieces, whom he claimed ashis guests. 

'I had hoped that the ladies of Scotland would honour my poor house, 'said the Duke. 

'The Lord Cardinal deems it thus more fitting, ' said the portly priestwho acted as Beaufort's secretary, and who spoke with an authority thatchafed the Duke. 

Richard Nevil rode up to him and muttered--'He hath divined our purpose, and means to cross it. '

The clerk, however, spoke with Sir Patrick, and in a manner tookpossession of the young ladies. They were riding between walled courts, substantially built, with intervals of fields and woods, or sometimesindeed of morass; for London was still an island in the middle ofswamps, with the great causeways of the old Roman times leading toit. The spire of St. Paul's and the square keep of the Tower had beenpointed out to them, and Jean exclaimed--

'My certie, it is a braw toon!'

But Eleanor, on her side, exclaimed--

''Tis but a flat! Mine eye wearies for the sea; ay, and for Arthur'sSeat and the Castle! Oh, I wadna gie Embro' for forty of sic toons!'

Perhaps Jean had guessed enough to make her look on London with an eyeof possession, for her answer was--

'Hear till her; and she was the first to cry out upon Embro' for a placeof reivers and land-loupers, and to want to leave it. '

There was so much that was new and wonderful that the sisters pursuedthe question no further. They saw the masts of the shipping in theThames, and what seemed to them a throng of church towers and spires;while, nearer, the road began to be full of market-folk, the women inhoods and mantles and short petticoats, the men in long frocks, such astheir Saxon forefathers had worn, driving the rough ponies or donkeysthat had brought in their produce. There were begging friars in cowl andfrock, and beggars, not friars, with crutch and bowl; there were gleemenand tumbling women, solid tradesfolk going out to the country farms theyloved, troops of 'prentices on their way to practice with the bow orcudgel, and parties of gaily-coloured nobles, knights, squires, andburgesses, coming, like their own party, to the meeting of Parliament. 

There were continual greetings, the Duke of York showing himself mostmarkedly courteous to all, his dark head being almost continuouslyuncovered, and bending to his saddle-bow in response to the salutationsthat met him; and friendly inquiries and answers being often exchanged. The Earl of Salisbury and his son were almost equally courteous; but inthe midst of all the interest of these greetings, soon after enteringthe city at Bishopsgate, the clerk caused the two Scottish sisters todraw up at an arched gateway in a solid-looking wall, saying that it washere that my Lord Cardinal wished his royal kinswomen to be received, atthe Priory of St. Helen's. A hooded lay-sister looked out at a wicket, and on his speaking to her, proceeded to unbar the great gates, whilethe Duke of York took leave in a more than kindly manner, declaring thatthey would meet again, and that he knew 'My Lady of St. Helen's wouldmake them good cheer. '

Indeed, he himself and the King of Wight rode into the outer court, andlifted the two ladies down from horseback, at the inner gate, beyondwhich they might not go. Jean, crossed now for the first time since shehad left home, was in tears of vexation, and could hardly control hervoice to respond to his words, muttering--

'As if I looked for this. Beshrew the old priest!'

None but female attendants could be admitted. Sir Patrick, with his sonsand the rest of the train, was to be lodged at the great palace of theBishop of Winchester at Southwark, and as he came up to take leave ofJean, she said, with a stamp of her foot and a clench of her hand--

'Let my uncle know that I am no cloister-bird to be mewed up here. Idemand to be with the friends I have made, and who have bidden me. '

Shrewd Sir Patrick smiled a little as he said--

'I will tell the Lord Cardinal what you say, lady; but methinks you willfind that submission to him with a good grace carries you farther herethan does ill-humour. '

He said something of the same kind to his wife as he took leave ofher, well knowing who were predominant with the King, and who were inopposition, the only link being the King of Wight, or rather Earl ofWarwick, who, as the son of Henry's guardian, had been bred up in theclosest intimacy with the monarch, and, indeed, had been invested withhis fantastic sovereignty that he might be treated as a brother and onan equality. 

Jean, however, remained very angry and discontented. After her neglectedand oppressed younger days, the courtesy and admiration she had receivedfor the last ten days had the effect of making her like a spoilt child;and when they entered the inner cloistered court within, and were met bythe Lady Prioress, at the head of all her sisters in black dresses, shehardly vouchsafed an inclination of the head in reply to the gracefuland courtly welcome with which the princesses, nieces to the greatCardinal, were received. Eleanor, usually in the background, was left insurprise and confusion to stammer out thanks in broad Scotch, secondedby Lady Drummond, who could make herself far more intelligible to thesesouth-country ears. 

There was a beautiful cloister, a double walk with clustered columnsrunning down the centre and a vaulted roof, and with a fountain in themidst of the quadrangle. There was a chapel on one side, the buildingsof the Priory on the others. It was only a Priory, for the parent Abbeywas in the country; but the Prioress was a noble lady of the house ofStafford, a small personage as to stature, but thoroughly alert andbusiness-like, and, in fact, the moving spring, not only of the actualhouse, but of the parent Abbey, manager of the property it possessed inthe city, and of all its monastic politics. 

Without apparent offence, she observed that no doubt the ladies wereweary, and that Sister Mabel should conduct them to the guest-chamber. Accordingly one of the black figures led the way, and as soon asthey were beyond ear-shot there were observations that would not havegratified Jean. 

'The ill-nurtured Scots!' cried one young nun. ''Tis ever the way withthem, ' returned a much older one. 'I mind when one was captive in myfather's castle who was a mere clown, and drank up the water that wasmeant to wash his fingers after meat. The guest-chamber will need acleaning after they are gone!'

'Methinks it was less lack of manners than lack of temper, ' said thePrioress. 'She hath the Beaufort face and the Beaufort spirit. '

The chapel bell began to ring, and the black veils and white filed inlong procession to the pointed doorway, while the two Scottish damsels, with Lady Drummond, her daughter, and Christie, were conducted to threechambers looking out on the one side on the cloistered court, on theother over a choicely-kept garden, walled in, but planted with treesshading the turf walks. The rooms were, as Sister Mabel explained withsome complacency, reserved for the lodging of the noble ladies who cameto London as guests of my Lord Cardinal, or with petitions to the King;and certainly there was nothing of asceticism about them; but they werean advance even on those at Fotheringay. St. Helena discovering theCross was carved over the ample chimney, and the hangings were ofSpanish leather, with all the wondrous history of Santiago's relics, including the miracle of the cock and hen, embossed and gilt upon them. There was a Venetian mirror, in which the ladies saw more of themselvesthan they had ever done before, and with exquisite work around; therewere carved chests inlaid with ivory, and cushions, perfect marvels ofneedlework, as were the curtains and coverlets of the mighty bed, andthe screens to be arranged for privacy. There were toilette vessels ofbeautifully shaped and brightly polished brass, and on a silver salverwas a refection of manchet bread, comfits, dried cherries, and wine. 

Sister Mabel explained that a lay-sister would be at hand, in caseanything was needed by the noble ladies, and then hurried away tovespers. 

Jean threw herself upon the cross-legged chair that stood nearest. 

'A nunnery forsooth! Does our uncle trow that is what I came here for?We have had enow of nunneries at home. '

'Oh, fie for shame, Jeanie!' cried Eleanor. 

''Twas thou that saidst it, ' returned Jean. 'Thou saidst thou hadst nocall to the veil, and gin my Lord trows that we shall thole to be shutup here, he will find himself in the wrong. '

'Lassie, lassie, ' exclaimed Lady Drummond, 'what ails ye? This is but alodging, and sic a braw chamber as ye hae scarce seen before. Would youhave your uncle lodge ye among all his priests and clerks? Scarce theplace for douce maidens, I trow. '

'Leddy of Glenuskie, ye're not sae sib to the bluid royal of Scotland asto speak thus! Lassie indeed!'

Again Eleanor remonstrated. 'Jeanie, to speak thus to our gudekinswoman!'

'I would have all about me ken their place, and what fits them, ' saidthe haughty young lady, partly out of ill-temper and disappointment, partly in imitation of the demeanour of Duchess Cicely. 'As to theCardinal, I would have him bear in mind that we are a king's owndaughters, and he is at best but the grandson of a king! And if he deemsthat he has a right to shut us up here out of sight of the King andhis court, lest we should cross his rule over his King and disturb hisFrench policy and craft, there are those that will gar him ken better!'

'Some one else will ken better, ' quietly observed Dame Lilias. 'Gin yebe no clean daft, Leddy Joanna, since naething else will serve ye, cannaye see that to strive with the Cardinal is the worst gait to win hisfavour with the King, gin that be what ye be set upon?'

'There be others that can deal with the King, forbye the Cardinal, ' saidJean, tossing her head. 

Just then arrived a sister, sent by the Mother Prioress, to invite theladies to supper in her own apartments. 

Her respectful manner so far pacified Jean's ill-humour that a civilreply was returned; the young ladies bestirred themselves to makepreparations, though Jean grumbled at the trouble for 'a pack ofwomenfolk'--and supposed they were to make a meal of dried peas and redherrings, like their last on Lammermuir. 

It was a surprise to be conducted, not to the refectory, where all thenuns took their meal together, but to a small room opening into thecloister on one side, and with a window embowered in vines on the other, looking into the garden. It was by no means bare, like the typical cellsof strict convents. The Mother, Margaret Stafford, was a great lady, andthe Benedictines of the old foundation of St. Helen's in the midst ofthe capital were indeed respectable and respected, but very far fromstrict observers of their rule--and St. Helen's was so much influencedby the wealth and display of the city that the nuns, many of whom werethese great merchants' daughters, would have been surprised to be toldthat they had departed from Benedictine simplicity. So the Prioress'schamber was tapestried above with St. Helena's life, and below wasenclosed with drapery panels. It was strewed with sweet fresh rushes, and had three cross-legged chairs, besides several stools; the table, asusual upon trestles, was provided with delicate napery, and there was adainty perfume about the whole; a beautiful crucifix of ivory and ebony, with images of Our Lady and St. John on either side, and another figureof St. Helena, cross in hand, presiding over the holy water stoup, werethe most ecclesiastical things in the garniture, except the exquisitelyilluminated breviary that lay open upon a desk. 

Mother Margaret rose to receive her guests with as much dignity asJean herself could have shown, and made them welcome to her poor house, hoping that they would there find things to their mind. 

Something restrained Jean from bursting out with her petulant complaint, and it was Eleanor who replied with warm thanks. 'My Lord Cardinalwould come to visit them on the morn, ' the Prioress said; 'and in themeantime, she hoped, ' looking at Jean, 'they would condescend to thehospitality of the poor daughters of St. Helen. '

The hospitality, as brought in by two plump, well-fed lay-sisters, consisted of 'chickens in cretyne, ' stewed in milk, seasoned with sugar, coloured with saffron, of potage of oysters, butter of almond-milk, and other delicate meats, such as had certainly never been tasted atStirling or Dunbar. Lady Drummond's birth entitled her and Annis tosit at table with the Princesses and the Prioress, and she ventured toinquire after Esclairmonde de Luxembourg, or, as she was now called, Sister Clare of St. Katharine's. 

'I see her at times. She is the head of the sisters, ' said the Prioress;'but we have few dealings with uncloistered sisters. '

'They do a holy work, ' observed Lady Lilias. 

'None ever blamed the Benedictines for lack of alms-deeds, ' returned thePrioress haughtily, scarcely attending to the guest's disclaimer. 'Nordo I deem it befitting that instead of the poor coming to us our sistersshould run about to all the foulest hovels of the Docks, encounteringmen continually, and those of the rudest sort. '

'Yet there are calls and vocations for all, ' ventured Lady Drummond. 'And the sick are brethren in need. '

'Let them send to us for succour then, ' answered Mother Margaret. 'Igrant that it is well that some one should tend them in their huts, butsuch tasks are for sisters of low birth and breeding. Mine are ladies ofnoble rank, though I do admit daughters of Lord Mayors and Aldermen. '

'Our Saint Margaret was a queen, Reverend Mother, ' put in Eleanor. 

'She was no nun, saving your Grace, ' said the Prioress. 'What I speak ofis that which beseems a daughter of St. Bennet, of an ancient and royalfoundation! The saving of the soul is so much harder to the worldlylife, specially to a queen, that it is no marvel if she has to abaseherself more--even to the washing of lepers--than is needful to a vowedand cloistered sister. '

It was an odd theory, that this Benedictine seclusion saved trouble, as being actually the strait course; but the young maidens were notscholars enough to question it, and Dame Lilias, though she had learntmore from her brother and her friend, would have deemed it presumptuousto dispute with a Reverend Mother. So only Eleanor murmured, 'The holyMargaret no saint'--and Jean, 'Weel, I had liefer take my chance. '

'All have not a vocation, ' piously said the Mother. 'Taste this RoseDalmoyne, Madame; our lay-sister Mold is famed for making it. Analderman of the Fishmongers' Company sent to beg that his cook mightknow the secret, but that was not to be lightly parted with, so we onlysend them a dish for their banquets. '

Rose Dalmoyne was chiefly of peas, flavoured with almonds and milk, butthe guests grew weary of the varieties of delicacies, and were very gladwhen the tables were removed, and Eleanor asked permission to look atthe illuminations in the breviary on the desk. 

And exquisite they were. The book had been brought from Italy andpresented to the Prioress by a merchant who wished to place his daughterin St. Helen's, and the beauty was unspeakable. There were naturalflowers painted so perfectly that the scattered violets seemed to invitethe hand to lift them up from their gold-besprinkled bed, and flies andbeetles that Eleanor actually attempted to drive away; and at all thegreater holy days, the type and the antitype covering the two wholeopposite pages were represented in the admirable art and pure colouringof the early Cinquecento. 

Eleanor and Annis were entranced, and the Prioress, seeing that bookshad an attraction for her younger guest, promised her on the morrow asight of some of the metrical lives of the saints, especially of St. Katharine and of St. Cecilia. It must be owned that Jean was not frettedas she expected by chapel bells in the middle of the night, nor waseven Lady Drummond summoned by them as she intended, but there was aconglomeration of the night services in the morning, with beautifulsinging, that delighted Eleanor, and the festival mass ensuing was alsomore ornate than anything to be seen in Scotland. And that the extensivealmsgiving had not been a vain boast was evident from the swarms of poorof all kinds who congregated in the outer court for the attention ofthe Sisters Almoner and Infirmarer, attended by two or three novices andsome lay-sisters. 

There were genuine poor, ragged forlorn women, and barefooted, almostnaked children, and also sturdy beggars, pilgrims and palmers on theirway to various shrines, north or south, and many more for whom a dole ofbroth or bread sufficed; but there were also others with heads or limbstied up, sometimes injured in the many street fights, but oftener withthe terrible sores only too common from the squalid habits and want ofvegetable diet of the poor. These were all attended to with a tendernessand patience that spoke well for the charity of Sister Anne and herassistants, and indeed before long Dame Lilias perceived that, howeverslack and easy-going the general habits might be, there were truly meekand saintly women among the sisterhood. 

The morning was not far advanced before a lay-sister came hurrying infrom the portress's wicket to announce that my Lord Cardinal was on hisway to visit the ladies of Scotland. There was great commotion. MotherMargaret summoned all her nuns and drew them up in state, and SisterMabel, who carried the tidings to the guests, asked whether they wouldnot join in receiving him. 

'We are king's daughters, ' said Jean haughtily. 

'But he is a Prince of the Church and an aged man, ' said Lady Drummond, who had already risen, and was adjusting that headgear of Eleanor's thatnever would stay in its place. And her matronly voice acted upon Jean, so as to conquer the petulant pride, enough to make her remember thatthe Lady of Glenuskie was herself a Stewart and king's grandchild, andmoreover knew more of courts and their habits than herself. 

So down they went together, in time to join the Prioress on the steps, as the attendants of the great stately, princely Cardinal Bishop beganto appear. He did not come in state, so that he had only half a dozenclerks and as many gentlemen in attendance, together with Sir Patrickand his two sons. 

Few of the Plantagenet family had been long-lived, and Cardinal Beaufortwas almost a marvel in the family at seventy. Much evil has been saidand written of him, and there is no doubt that he was one of thosemediaeval prelates who ought to have been warriors or statesmen, andthat he had been no model for the Episcopacy in his youth. But thoughfar from having been a saint, it would seem that his unpopularity in hisold age was chiefly incurred by his desire to put an end to the long andmiserable war with France, and by his opposition to a much worse man, the Duke of Gloucester, whose plausible murmurs and amiable mannersmade him a general favourite. At this period of his life the old man hadlived past his political ambitions, and his chief desire was to leavethe gentle young king freed from the wasting war by a permanent peace, to be secured by a marriage with a near connection of the Frenchmonarch, and daughter to the most honourable and accomplished Prince inEurope. That his measures turned out wretchedly has been charged uponhis memory, and he has been supposed guilty of a murder, of which he wascertainly innocent, and which probably was no murder at all. 

He had become a very grand and venerable old man, when old men werescarce, and his white hair and beard (a survival of the customs of thedays of Edward III) contrasted well with his scarlet hat and cape, as hecame slowly into the cloistered court on his large sober-paced Spanishmule; a knight and the chaplain of the convent assisted him from it, andthe whole troop of the convent knelt as he lifted his fingers to bestowhis blessing, Jean casting a quick glance around to satisfy her proudspirit. The Prioress then kissed his hand, but he raised and kissedthe cheeks of his two grand-nieces, after which he moved on to thePrioress's chamber, and there, after being installed in her large chair, and waving to the four favoured inmates to be also seated, he lookedcritically at the two sisters, and observed, 'So, maidens! one favoursthe mother, the other the father! Poor Joan, it is two-and-twenty yearssince we bade her good-speed, she and her young king--who behoved tobe a minstrel--on her way to her kingdom, as if it were the land ofCockayne, for picking up gold and silver. Little of that she found, Itrow, poor wench. Alack! it was a sore life we sent her to. And you aremourning her freshly, my maidens! I trust she died at peace with God andman. '

'That reiver, Patrick Hepburn, let the priest from Haddington come toassoilzie and housel her, ' responded Jean. 

'Ah! Masses shall be said for her by my bedesmen at St. Cross, and atall my churches, ' said the Cardinal, crossing himself. 'And you are onyour way to your sister, the Dolfine, as your knight tells me. It iswell. You may be worthily wedded in France, and I will take order foryour safe going. Meantime, this is a house where you may well serveyour poor mother's soul by prayers and masses, and likewise perfectyourselves in French. '

This was not at all what Jean had intended, and she pouted a little, while the Cardinal asked, changing his language, 'Ces donzelles, ontelles appris le Francais?'

Jean, who had tried to let Father Romuald teach her a little inconversation during the first part of the journey, but who had droppedthe notion since other ideas had been inspired at Fotheringay, could notunderstand, and pouted the more; but Eleanor, who had been interested, and tried more in earnest, for Margaret's sake, answered diffidently andblushing deeply, 'Un petit peu, beau Sire Oncle. '

He smiled, and said, 'You can be well instructed here. The ReverendMother hath sisters here who can both speak and write French of Paris. '

'That have I truly, my good Lord, ' replied the Prioress. 'Sisters Isabeland Beata spent their younger days, the one at Rouen, the other atBordeaux, and have learned many young ladies in the true speaking of theFrench tongue. '

'It is well!' said the Cardinal, 'my fair nieces will have good leisure. While sharing the orisons that I will institute for the repose of yourmother, you can also be taught the French. '

Jean could not help speaking now, so far was this from all her hopes. 'Sir, sir, the Duke and Duchess of York, and the Countess of Salisbury, and the Queen of the Isle of Wight all bade us to be their guests. '

'They could haply not have been aware of your dool, ' said the Cardinalgravely. 

'But, my Lord, our mother hath been dead since before Martinmas, 'exclaimed Jean. 

'I know not what customs of dool be thought befitting in a land likeScotland, ' said the Cardinal, in such a repressive manner that Jeanwas only withheld by awe from bursting into tears of disappointment andanger at the slight to her country. 

Lady Drummond ventured to speak. 'Alack, my Lord, ' she said, 'my poorQueen died in the hands of a freebooter, leaving her daughters in suchstress and peril that they had woe enough for themselves, till theirbrother the King came to their rescue. '

'The more need that they should fulfil all that may be done for thegrace of her soul, ' replied the uncle; but just at this crisis ofJean's mortification there was a knocking at the door, and a sisterbreathlessly entreated--

'Pardon! Merci! My Lord, my Lady Mother! Here's the King, the Kinghimself--and the King and Queen of the Isle of Wight asking licence toenter to visit the ladies of Scotland. '

Kings were always held to be free to enter anywhere, even far moredangerous monarchs than the pious Henry VI. Jean's heart bounded upagain, with a sense of exultation over the old uncle, as the Prioresswent out to receive her new guest, and the Cardinal emitted a sort ofgrunting sigh, without troubling himself to go out to meet the youth, whom he had governed from babyhood, and in whose own name he had, asone of the council, given permission for wholesome chastisements of theroyal person. 

King Henry entered. He was then twenty-four years old, tall, graceful, and with beautiful features and complexion, almost feminine in theirdelicacy, and with a wonderful purity and sweetness in the expressionof the mouth and blue eyes, so that he struck Eleanor as resembling theangels in the illuminations that she had been studying, as he removedhis dark green velvet jewelled cap on entering, and gave a cousinly, respectful kiss lightly to each of the young ladies on her cheek, somewhat as if he were afraid of them. Then after greeting the Cardinal, who had risen on his entrance, he said that, hearing that his faircousins were arrived, he had come to welcome them, and to entreat themto let him do them such honour as was possible in a court without aqueen. 

'The which lack will soon be remedied, ' put in his grand-uncle. 

'Truly you are in holy keeping here, ' said the pious young King, crossing himself, 'but I trust, my sweet cousins, that you will favourmy poor house at Westminster with your presence at a supper, and sharesuch entertainment as is in our power to provide. '

'My nieces are keeping their mourning for their mother, from which theyhave hitherto been hindered by the tumults of their kingdom, ' said theCardinal. 

'Ah!' said the King, crossing himself, and instantly moved, 'far be itfrom me to break into their holy retirement for such a purpose. ' (Jeancould have bitten the Cardinal. ) 'But I will take order with my LordAbbot of Westminster for a grand requiem mass for the good Queen Joanna, at which they will, I trust, be present, and they will honour my poortable afterwards. '

To refuse this was quite impossible, and the day was to be fixed afterreference to the Abbess. Meantime the King's eye was caught by theilluminated breviary. He was a connoisseur in such arts, and eagerlystood up to look at it as it lay on the desk. Eleanor could not but comeand direct him to the pages with which she had been most delighted. Shefound him looking at Jacob's dream on the one side, the Ascension on theother. 

'How marvellous it is!' she said. 'It is like the very light from thesky!'

'Light from heaven, ' said the King; 'Jacob has found it among thestones. Wandering and homelessness are his first step in the ladder toheaven!'

'Ah, sir, did you say that to comfort and hearten us?' said Eleanor. 

There was a strange look in the startled blue eyes that met hers. 'Nay, truly, lady, I presumed not so far! I was but wondering whether thosewho are born to have all the world are in the way of the stair toheaven. '

Meantime the King of Wight had made his request for the presence ofthe ladies at a supper at Warwick House, and Jean, clasping her hands, implored her uncle to consent. 

'I am sure our mother cannot be the better for our being thus mewed up, 'she cried, 'and I'll rise at prime, and tell my beads for her. '

She looked so pretty and imploring that the old man's heart was melted, all the more that the King was paying more attention to the book and thefar less beautiful Eleanor, than to her and the invitation was accepted. 

The convent bell rang for nones, and the King joined the devotions ofthe nuns, though he was not admitted within the choir; and just asthese were over, the Countess of Salisbury arrived to take the Lady ofGlenuskie to see their old friend, the Mother Clare at St. Katharine's, bringing a sober palfrey for her conveyance. 

'A holy woman, full of alms-deeds, ' said the King. 'The lady is happy inher friendship. '

Which words were worth much to Lady Drummond, for the Prioress sent alay-sister to invite Mother Clare to a refection at the convent. 

CHAPTER 5. THE MEEK USURPER

 'Henry, thou of holy birth, Thou to whom thy Windsor gave Nativity and name and grave! Heavily upon his head Ancestral crimes were visited. '--SOUTHEY. 

It suits not with the main thread of our story to tell of the happy andpeaceful meetings between the Lady of Glenuskie and her old friend, whohad given up almost princely rank and honour to become the servantof the poor and suffering strangers at the wharves of London. To DameLilias, Mother Clare's quiet cell at St. Katharine's was a blessed havenof rest, peace, and charity, such as was neither the guest-chamber northe Prioress's parlour at St. Helen's, with all the distractions ofthe princesses' visitors and invitations, and with the Lady Joannacontinually pulling against the authority that the Cardinal, her uncle, was exerting over his nieces. 

His object evidently was to keep them back, firstly, from the Yorkparty, and secondly, from the King, under pretext of their mourning fortheir mother; and in this he might have succeeded but for the interestin them that had been aroused in Henry by his companion, namesake, andalmost brother, the King of Wight. The King came or sent each day to St. Helen's to arrange about the requiem at Westminster, and when their latetravelling companions invited the young ladies to dinner or to supperexpressly to meet the King and the Cardinal--not in state, but atwhat would be now called a family party--Beaufort had no excuse for arefusal, such as he could not give without dire offence. And, indeed, hewas even then obliged to yield to the general voice, and, recalling hisown nephew from Normandy, send the Duke of York to defend the remnant ofthe English conquests. 

He could only insist that the requiem should be the first occasion ofthe young ladies going out of the convent; but they had so many visitorsthere that they had not much cause for murmuring, and the Frenchinstructions of Sister Beata did not amount to much, even with Eleanor, while Jean loudly protested that she was not going to school. 

The great day of the requiem came at last. The Cardinal had, throughSir Patrick Drummond and the Lady, provided handsome robes of black andpurple for his nieces, and likewise palfreys for their conveyance toWestminster; and made it understood that unless Lady Joanna submitted tobe completely veiled he should send a closed litter. 

'The doited auld carle!' she cried, as she unwillingly hooded and veiledherself. 'One would think we were basilisks to slay the good folk ofLondon with our eyes. '

The Drummond following, with fresh thyme sprays, beginning to turnbrown, were drawn up in the outer court, all with black scarves acrossthe breast--George Douglas among them, of course--and they presentlyunited with the long train of clerks who belonged to the household ofthe Cardinal of Winchester. Jean managed her veil so as to get more thanone peep at the throng in the streets through which they passed, so asto see and to be seen; and she was disappointed that no acclamationsgreeted the fair face thus displayed by fits. She did not understandEnglish politics enough to know that a Beaufort face and Beaufort trainwere the last things the London crowd was likely to applaud. They hadnot forgotten the penance of the popular Duke Humfrey's wife, which, justly or unjustly, was imputed to the Cardinal and his nephews ofSomerset. 

But the King, in robes of purple and black, came to assist her from herpalfrey before the beautiful entry of the Abbey Church, and led her upthe nave to the desks prepared around what was then termed 'a herce, 'but which would now be called a catafalque, an erection supposed tocontain the body, and adorned with the lozenges of the arms of Scotlandand Beaufort, and of the Stewart, in honour of the Black Knight of Lorn. 

The Cardinal was present, but the Abbot of Westminster celebrated. Allwas exceedingly solemn and beautiful, in a far different style from themaimed rites that had been bestowed upon poor Queen Joanna in Scotland. The young King's face was more angelic than ever, and as psalm andsupplication, dirge and hymn arose, chanted by the full choir, speakingof eternal peace, Eleanor bowed her head under her veil, as her bosomswelled with a strange yearning longing, not exactly grief, and largetears dropped from her eyes as she thought less of her mother than ofher noble-hearted father; and the words came back to her in which FatherMalcolm Stewart, in his own bitter grief, had told the desolate childrento remember that their father was waiting for them in Paradise. EvenJean was so touched by the music and carried out of herself that sheforgot the spectators, forgot the effect she was to produce, forgot herstruggle with her uncle, and sobbed and wept with all her heart, perhapswith the more abandon because she, like all the rest, was fasting. 

With much reverence for her emotion, the King, when the service wasover, led her out of the church to the adjoining palace, where the Queenof Wight and the Countess of Suffolk, a kinswoman through the motherof the Beauforts, conducted the ladies to unveil themselves before theywere to join the noontide refection with the King. 

There was no great state about it, spread, as it was, not in the greathall, but in the richly-tapestried room called Paradise. The King'smanner was most gently and sweetly courteous to both sisters. His threelittle orphan half-brothers, the Tudors, were at table; and his kindcare to send them dainties, and the look with which he repressed anunseasonable attempt of Jasper's to play with the dogs, and Edmund'sroughness with little Owen, reminded the sisters of Mary with 'herweans, ' and they began to speak of them when the meal was over, whilehe showed them his chief treasures, his books. There was St. Augustine'sCity of God, exquisitely copied; there was the History of St. Louis, bythe bon Sire de Joinville; there were Sir John Froissart's Chronicles, the same that the good Canon had presented to King Richard of Bordeaux. 

Jean cast a careless glance at the illuminations, and exclaimed at QueenIsabel's high headgear and her becloaked greyhound. Eleanor looked andlonged, and sighed that she could not read the French, and only a verylittle of the Latin. 

'This you can read, ' said Henry, producing the Canterbury Tales; 'thefair minstrelsy of my Lady of Suffolk's grandsire. '

Eleanor was enchanted. Here were the lines the King of Wight hadrepeated to her, and she was soon eagerly listening as Henry read to herthe story of 'Patient Grisell. '

'Ah! but is it well thus tamely to submit?' she asked. 

'Patience is the armour and conquest of the godly, ' said Henry, quotinga saying that was to serve 'the meek usurper' well in after-times. 

'May not patience go too far?' said Eleanor. 

'In this world, mayhap, ' said he; 'scarcely so in that which is tocome. '

'I would not be the King's bride to hear him say so, ' laughed the Ladyof Suffolk. 'Shall I tell her, my lord, that this is your Grace's ladderto carry her to heaven?'

Henry blushed like a girl, and said that he trusted never to be solacking in courtesy as the knight; and the King of Wight, wishing tochange the subject, mentioned that the Lady Eleanor had sung or saidcertain choice ballads, and Henry eagerly entreated for one. It was thepathetic 'Wife of Usher's Well' that Eleanor chose, with the three sonswhose hats were wreathen with the birk that

 'Neither grew in dyke nor ditch, Nor yet in any shaugh, But at the gates of Paradise That birk grew fair eneugh. '

Henry was greatly delighted with the verse, and entreated her, if itwere not tedious, to repeat it over again. 

In return he promised to lend her some of the translations from theLatin of Lydgate, the Monk of Bury, and sent them, wrapped in a silkenneckerchief, by the hands of one of his servants to the convent. 

'Was that a token?' anxiously asked young Douglas, riding up to DavidDrummond, as they got into order to ride back to Winchester House, afterescorting the ladies to St. Helen's. 

'Token, no; 'tis a book for Lady Elleen. Never fash yourself, man; theKing, so far as I might judge, is far more taken with Elleen than everhe is with Jean. He seems but a bookish sort of bodie of Malcolm'ssort. '

'My certie, an' that be sae, we may look to winning back Roxburgh andBerwick!' returned the Douglas, his eye flashing. 'He's welcome to LadyElleen! But that ane should look at her in presence of her sister! Hemaun be mair of a monk than a man!'

Such was, in truth, Jean's own opinion when she flounced into herchamber at the Priory and turned upon her sister. 

'Weel, Elleen, and I hope ye've had your will, and are a bit shamed, taking up his Grace so that none by yersell could get in a word wi'him. '

'Deed, Jeanie, I could not help it; if he would ask me about ourballants and buiks, that ye would never lay your mind to--'

'Ballants and buiks! Bonnie gear for a king that should be thinking ofspears and jacks, lances and honours. Ye're welcome to him, Elleen, sinye choose to busk your cockernnonny at ane that's as good as wedded!I'll never have the man who's wanting the strick of carle hemp in themaking of him!'

Eleanor burst into tears and pleaded that she was incapable of any suchintentions towards a man who was truly as good as married. She declaredthat she had only replied as courtesy required, and that she wouldnot have her harp taken to Warwick House the next day, as she had beenrequested to do. 

Dame Lilias here interposed. With a certain conviction that Jean'sdislike to the King was chiefly because the grapes were sour, shedeclared that Lady Elleen had by no means gone beyond the demeanour ofa douce maiden, and that the King had only shown due attention to guestsof his own rank, and who were nearly of his own age. In fact, she said, it might be his caution and loyalty to his espoused lady that made himavoid distinguishing the fairest. 

It was not complimentary to Eleanor, but Jean's superior beauty wasas much an established fact as her age, and she was pacified in somedegree, agreeing with the Lady of Glenuskie that Eleanor was bound totake her harp the next day. 

Warwick House was a really magnificent place, its courts, gardens, and offices covering much of the ground that still bears the name in theCity, and though the establishment was not quite as extensive as itbecame a few years later, when Richard Nevil had succeeded hisbrother-in-law, it was already on a magnificent scale. 

All the party who had travelled together from Fotheringay were present, besides the King, young Edmund and Jasper Tudor, and the Earl andCountess of Suffolk; and the banquet, though not a state one, norencumbered with pageants and subtilties, was even more refined andelegant than that at Westminster, showing, as all agreed, the hand of amistress of the household. The King's taste had been consulted, for inthe gallery were the children of St. Paul's choir and of the chapel ofthe household, who sang hymns with sweet trained voices. Afterwards, onthe beautiful October afternoon, there was walking in the garden, whereEdmund and Jasper played with little Lady Anne Beauchamp, and again KingHenry sought out Eleanor, and they had an enjoyable discussion of theTale of Troie, which he had lent her, as they walked along the gardenpaths. Then she showed him her cousin Malcolm, and told of BishopKennedy and the schemes for St. Andrews, and he in return describedWinchester College, and spoke of his wish to have such anotherfoundation as Wykeham's under his own eye near Windsor, to train up thegodly clergy, whom he saw to be the great need and lack of the Church atthat day. 

By and by, on going in from the garden, the King and Eleanor found thata tall, gray-haired gentleman, richly but darkly clad, had entered thehall. He had been welcomed by the young King and Queen of Wight, who hadintroduced Jean to him. 'My uncle of Gloucester, ' said the King, aside. 'It is the first time he has come among us since the unhappy affair ofhis wife. Let me present you to him. '

Going forward, as the Duke rose to meet him, Henry bent his kneeand asked his fatherly blessing, then introduced the Lady Eleanor ofScotland--'who knows all lays and songs, and loves letters, as you toldme her blessed father did, my fair uncle, ' he said, with sparkling eyes. 

Duke Humfrey looked well pleased as he greeted her. 'Ever the scholar, Nevoy Hal, ' he said, as if marvelling at the preference above thebeauty, 'but each man knows his own mind. So best. ' Eleanor's heartbegan to beat high! What did this bode? Was this King fully pledged? Shehad to fulfil her promise of singing and playing to the King, which shedid very sweetly, some of the pathetic airs of her country, which reachback much farther than the songs with which they have in later timesbeen associated. The King thoroughly enjoyed the music, and the Duke ofYork came and paid her several compliments, begging for the song she hadonce begun at Fotheringay. Eleanor began--not perhaps so willingly asbefore. Strangely, as she sang--

 'Owre muckle blinking blindeth the ee, lass, Owre muckle thinking changeth the mind, '--

her face and voice altered. Something of the same mist of tears andblood seemed to rise before her eyes as before--enfolding all around. Such a winding-sheet which had before enwrapt the King of Wight, shesaw it again--nay, on the Duke of Gloucester there was such another, mounting--mounting to his neck. The face of Henry himself grew dimand ghastly white, like that of a marble saint. She kept herself fromscreaming, but her voice broke down, and she gave a choking sob. 

King Henry's arm was the first to support her, though she shuddered ashe touched her, calling for essences, and lamenting that they had askedtoo much of her in begging her to sing what so reminded her of her homeand parents. 

'She hath been thus before. It was that song, ' said Jean, and the Ladyof Glenuskie coming up at the same time confirmed the idea, and declinedall help except to take her back to the Priory. The litter that hadbrought the Countess of Salisbury was at the door, and Henry would notbe denied the leading her to it. She was recovering herself, and couldsee the extreme sweetness and solicitude of his face, and feel that shehad never before leant on so kind and tender a supporting arm, sinceshe had sat on her father's knee. 'Ah! sir, you mind me of my blessedfather, ' she said. 

'Your father was a holy man, and died well-nigh a martyr's death, ' saidHenry. ''Tis an honour I thank you for to even me to him--such as I am. '

'Oh, sir! the saints guard you from such a fate, ' she said, trembling. 

'Was it so sad a fate--to die for the good he could not work in hislife?' said Henry. 

 They had reached the arch into the court. A crowd was roundthem, and no more could be said. Henry kissed Eleanor's hand, as heassisted her into the litter, and she was shut in between the curtains, alone, for it only held one person. There was a strange tumult offeeling. She seemed lifted into a higher region, as if she had been incontact with an angel of purity, and yet there was that strange sense ofawful fate all round, as if Henry were nearer being the martyr than theangel. And was she to share that fate? The generous young soul seemedto spring forward with the thought that, come what might, it would behallowed and sweetened with such as he! Yet withal there was a sense oflonging to protect and shield him. 

As usual, she had soon quite recovered, but Jean pronounced it 'one ofElleen's megrims--as if she were a Hielander to have second sight. '

'But, ' said the young lady, 'it takes no second sight to spae ill toyonder King. He is not one whose hand will keep his head, and there arethose who say that he had best look to his crown, for he hath no moreright thereto than I have to be Queen of France!'

'Fie, Jean, that's treason. '

'I'm none of his, nor ever will be! I have too much spirit for a gudemanwho cares for nothing but singing his psalter like a friar. '

Jean was even more of that opinion when, the next day, at York House, only Edmund and Jasper Tudor appeared with their brother's excuses. He had been obliged to give audience to a messenger from the Emperor. 'Moreover, ' added Edmund disconsolately, 'to-morrow he is going to St. Albans for a week's penitence. Harry is always doing penance, I cannotthink what for. He never eats marchpane in church--nor rolls ballsthere. '

'I know, ' said Jasper sagely. 'I heard the Lord Cardinal rating him forbeing false to his betrothed--that's the Lady Margaret, you know. '

'Ha!' said the Duke of York, before whom the two little boys werestanding. 'How was that, my little man?'

'Hush, Jasper, ' said Edmund; 'you do not know. '

'But I do, Edmund; I was in the window all the time. Harry said he didnot know it, he only meant all courtesy; and then the Lord Cardinalasked him if he called it loyalty to his betrothed to be playing thefool with the Scottish wench. And then Harry stared--like thee, Ned, when thy bolt had hit the Lady of Suffolk: and my Lord went on to saythat it was perilous to play the fool with a king's sister, and his ownniece. Then, for all that Harry is a king and a man grown, he wept likeOwen, only not loud, and he went down on his knees, and he cried, "Meapeccata, mea peccata, mea infirmitas, " just as he taught me to do atconfession. And then he said he would do whatever the Lord Cardinalthought fit, and go and do penance at St. Albans, if he pleased, and notsee the lady that sings any more. '

'And I say, ' exclaimed Edmund, 'what's the good of being a king and aman, if one is to be rated like a babe?'

'So say I, my little man, ' returned the Duke, patting him on the head, then adding to his own two boys, 'Take your cousins and play ball withthem, or spin tops, or whatever may please them. '

'There is the king we have, ' quoth Richard Nevil 'to be at the beck ofany misproud priest, and bewail with tears a moment's following of hisown will, like other men. '

Most of the company felt such misplaced penitence and submission, asthey deemed it, beneath contempt; but while Eleanor had pride enough tohold up her head so that no one might suppose her to be disappointed, she felt a strange awe of the conscientiousness that repented whenothers would only have felt resentment--relief, perhaps, at not againcoming into contact with one so unlike other men as almost to alarm her. 

Jean tossed up her head, and declared that her brother knew better thanto let any bishop put him into leading-strings. By and by there was agreat outcry among the children, and Edmund Tudor and Edward of Yorkwere fighting like a pair of mastiff-puppies because Edward had laughedat King Harry for minding what an old shaveling said. Edward, though theyounger, was much the stronger, and was decidedly getting the best ofit, when he was dragged off and sent into seclusion with his tutor formisbehaviour to his guest. 

No one was amazed when the next day the Cardinal arrived, and told hisgrand-nieces and the Lady of Glenuskie that he had arranged that theyshould go forward under the escort of the Earl and Countess of Suffolk, who were to start immediately for Nanci, there to espouse and bring homethe King's bride, the Lady Margaret. There was reason to think that theFrench Royal Family would be present on the occasion, as the Queen ofFrance was sister to King Rene of Sicily and Jerusalem, and thus theopportunity of joining their sister was not to be missed by the twoScottish maidens. The Cardinal added that he had undertaken, and madeSir Patrick Drummond understand, that he would be at all charges forhis nieces, and further said that merchants with women's gear wouldpresently be sent in, when they were to fit themselves out as befittedtheir rank for appearance at the wedding. At a sign from him a largebag, jingling heavily, was laid on the table by a clerk in attendance. There was nothing to be done but to make a low reverence and returnthanks. 

Jean had it in her to break out with ironical hopes that they would seesomething beyond the walls of a priory abroad, and not be ordered offthe moment any one cast eyes on them; but my Lord of Winchester was notthe man to be impertinent to, especially when bringing gifts as a kindlyuncle, and when, moreover, King Henry had the bad taste to be moreoccupied with her sister than with herself. 

It was Eleanor who chiefly felt a sort of repugnance to being thus, as it were, bought off or compensated for being sent out of reach. Shecould have found it in her heart to be offended at being thought likelyto wish to steal the King's heart, and yet flattered by being, forthe first time, considered as dangerous, even while her awe, alike ofHenry's holiness and of those strange visions that had haunted her, madeher feel it a relief that her lot was not to be cast with him. 

The Cardinal did not seem to wish to prolong the interview with hisgrand-nieces, having perhaps a certain consciousness of injury towardsthem; and, after assuring brilliant marriages for them, and graciouslyblessing them, he bade them farewell, saying that the Lady of Suffolkwould come and arrange with them for the journey. No doubt, though hemight have been glad to place a niece on the throne, it would have beenfatal to the peace he so much desired for Henry to break his pledges toso near a kinswoman of the King of France. And when the bag was opened, and the rouleaux of gold and silver crowns displayed, his liberalitycontradicted the current stories of his avarice. 

And by and by arrived a succession of merchants bringing horned hoods, transparent veils, like wings, supported on wire projections, longtrained dresses of silk and sendal, costly stomachers, bands of velvet, buckles set with precious stones, chains of gold and silver--all thefashions, in fact, enough to turn the head of any young lady, and inwhich the staid Lady Prioress seemed to take quite as much interest asif she had been to wear them herself--indeed, she asked leave to sendSister Mabel to fetch a selection of the older nuns given to needleworkand embroidery to enjoy the exhibition, though it was to be carefullykept out of sight of the younger ones, and especially of the novices. 

The excitement was enough to put the Cardinal's offences out of mind, while the delightful fitting and trying on occupied the maidens, wholooked at themselves in the little hand-mirrors held up to them by theadmiring nuns, and demanded every one's opinion. Jean insisted thatAnnis should have her share, and Eleanor joined in urging it, when DameLilias shook her head, and said that was not the use the Lord Cardinalintended for his gold. 

'He gave it to us to do as we would with it, ' argued Eleanor. 

'And she is our maiden, and it befits us not that she should look likeane scrub, ' added Jean, in the words used by her brother's descendant, acentury later. 

'I thank you, noble cousins, ' replied Annis, with a little haughtiness, 'but Davie would never thole to see me pranking it out of English gold. '

'She is right, Jeanie, ' cried Eleanor. 'We will make her braw with whatwe bought at York with gude Scottish gold. '

'All the more just, ' added Jean, 'that she helped us in our need withher ain. '

'And we are sib--near cousins after a', ' added Eleanor; 'so we may wellgive and take. '

So it was settled, and all was amicable, except that there was a slightcontest between the sisters whether they should dress alike, as Eleanorwished, while Jean had eyes and instinct enough to see that the coloursand forms that set her fair complexion and flaxen tresses off toperfection were damaging to Elleen's freckles and general auburncolouring. Hitherto the sisters had worn only what they could get, happyif they could call it ornamental, and the power of choice was a noveltyto them. At last the decision fell to the one who cared most about it, namely Jean. Elleen left her to settle for both, being, after the firstdazzling display, only eager to get back again to Saint Marie Maudelinbefore the King should reclaim it. 

There was something in the legend, wild and apocryphal as it is, together with what she had seen of the King, that left a deep impressionupon her. 

 'And by these things ye understand maun The three best things which this Mary chose, As outward penance and inward contemplation, And upward bliss that never shall cease, Of which God said withouten bees That the best part to her chose Mary, Which ever shall endure and never decrease, But with her abideth eternally. '

Stiff, quaint, and awkward sounds old Bokenham's translation of the'Golden Legend, ' but to Eleanor it had much power. The whole history wasnew to her, after her life in Scotland, where information had been slowto reach her, and books had been few. The gewgaws spread out before Jeanwere to her like the gloves, jewels, and braiding of hair with whichMartha reproached her sister in the days of her vanity, and the cloisterwith its calm services might well seem to her like the better part. These nuns indeed did not strike her as models of devotion, and therewas something in the Prioress's easy way of declaring that being safethere might prevent any need of special heed, which rung false on herear; and then she thought of King Henry, whose rapt countenance had somuch struck her, turning aside from enjoyment to seclude himself at thefirst hint that his pleasure might be a temptation. She recollected toowhat Lady Drummond had told her of Father Malcolm and Mother Clare, andhow each had renounced the world, which had so much to offer them, andchosen the better part! She remembered Father Malcolm's sweet smile andkind words, and Mother Clare's face had impressed her deeply with itslofty peace and sweetness. How much better than all these agitationsabout princely bridegrooms! and broken lances and queens of beautyseemed to fade into insignificance, or to be only incidents in thetumult of secular life and worldly struggle, and her spirit quailed atthe anticipation of the journey she had once desired, the gay court withits follies, empty show, temptations, coarsenesses and cruelties, andthe strange land with its new language. The alternative seemed to herfrom Maudelin in her worldly days to Maudelin at the Saviour's feet, andhad Mother Margaret Stafford been one whit more the ideal nun, perhapsevery one would have been perplexed by a vehement request to secludeherself at once in the cloister of St. Helen's. 

Looking up, she saw a figure slowly pacing the turf walk. It was theMother Clare, who had come to see the Lady of Glenuskie, but finding allso deeply engaged, had gone out to await her in the garden. 

Much indeed had Dame Lilias longed to join her friend, and make the mostof these precious hours, but as purse-bearer and adviser to her LadyJoanna, it was impossible to leave her till the arrangements with themerchants were over. And the nuns of St. Helen's did not, as has alreadybeen seen, think much of an uncloistered sister. In her twenty years'toils among the poor it had been pretty well forgotten that Mother Clarewas Esclairmonde de Luxembourg, almost of princely rank, so that noone took the trouble to entertain her, and she had slipped out almostunperceived to the quiet garden with its grass walks. And thereEleanor came up to her, and with glistening tears, on a sudden impulseexclaimed, 'Oh, holy Mother, keep me with you, tell me to choose thebetter part. '

'You, lady? What is this?'

'Not lady, daughter--help me! I kenned it not before--but all is vanity, turmoil, false show, except the sitting at the Lord's feet. '

'Most true, my child. Ah! have I not felt the same? But we must wait Histime. '

'It was I--it was I, ' continued Eleanor, 'who set Jean upon thisjourney, leaving my brother and Mary and the bairns. And the farther wego, the more there is of vain show and plotting and scheming, and I amweary and heartsick and homesick of it all, and shall grow worse andworse. Oh! shelter me here, in your good and holy house, dear ReverendMother, and maybe I could learn to do the holy work you do in my owncountry. '

How well Esclairmonde knew it all, and what aspirations had been hers!She took Elleen's hand kindly and said, 'Dear maid, I can only aid youby words! I could not keep you here. Your uncle the Cardinal would notsuffer you to abide here, nor can I take sisters save by consent of theQueen--and now we have no Queen, of the King, and--'

'Oh no, I could not ask that, ' said Eleanor, a deep blush mounting, asshe remembered what construction might be put on her desire to remainin the King's neighbourhood. 'Ah! then must I go on--on--on farther fromhome to that Court which they say is full of sin and evil and vanity?What will become of me?'

'If the religious life be good for you, trust me, the way will open, however unlikely it may seem. If not, Heaven and the saints will showwhat your course should be. '

'But can there be such safety and holiness, save in that higher path?'demanded Eleanor. 

'Nay, look at your own kinswoman, Dame Lilias--look at the Lady ofSalisbury. Are not these godly, faithful women serving God through theirduty to man--husband, children, all around? And are the longings andtemptations to worldly thoughts and pleasures of the flesh so wholly putaway in the cloister?'

'Not here, ' began Eleanor, but Mother Clare hushed her. 

'Verily, my child, ' she added, 'you must go on with your sister on thisjourney, trusting to the care and guidance of so good a woman as mybeloved old friend, Dame Lilias; and if you say your prayers with allyour heart to be guarded from sin and temptation, and led into the paththat is fittest for you, trust that our blessed Master and our Lady willlead you. Have you the Pater Noster in the vulgar tongue?' she added. 

'We--we had it once ere my father's death. And Father Malcolm taught us;but we have since been so cast about that--that--I have forgotten. '

'Ah! Father Malcolm taught you, ' and Esclairmonde took the girl's hand. 'You know how much I owe to Father Malcolm, ' she softly added, as sheled the maiden to a carved rood at the end of the cloister, and, beforeit, repeated the vernacular version of the Lord's Prayer till Eleanorknew it perfectly, and promised to follow up her 'Pater Nosters' withit. 

And from that time there certainly was a different tone and spirit inEleanor. 

David, urged by his father, who still publicly ignored the youngDouglas, persuaded him to write to his father now that there could be nolonger any danger of pursuit, and the messenger Sir Patrick was sendingto the King would afford the last opportunity. George growled andgroaned a good deal, but perhaps Father Romuald pressed the duty onhim in confession, for in his great relief at his lady's going offunplighted from London, he consented to indite, in the chamber FatherRomuald shared with two of the Cardinal's chaplains, in a crooked andcrabbed calligraphy and language much more resembling Anglo-Saxon thanmodern English, a letter to the most high and mighty, the Yerl of Angus, 'these presents. '

But when he was entreated to assume his right position in the troop, he refused. 'Na, na, Davie, ' he said, 'gin my father chooses to sendme gear and following, 'tis all very weel, but 'tisna for the creditof Scotland nor of Angus that the Master should be ganging about like aland-louper, with a single laddie after him--still less that he shouldbe beholden to the Drummonds. '

'Ye would win to the speech of the lassie, ' suggested David, 'gin thatbe what ye want!'

'Na kenning me, she willna look at me. Wait till I do that which may garher look at me, ' said the chivalrous youth. 

He was not entirely without means, for the links of a gold chain whichhe had brought from home went a good way in exchange, and though he hadspoken of being at his own charges, he had found himself compelled tolive as one of the train of the princesses, who were treated as theguests first of the Duke of York, then of the Cardinal, who had givenSir Patrick a sum sufficient to defray all possible expenses as far asBourges, besides having arranged for those of the journey with Suffolkwhose rank had been raised to that of a Marquis, in honour of hisactivity as proxy for the King. 

CHAPTER 6. THE PRICE OF A GOOSE

 'We would have all such offenders cut off, and we give express charge that, in the marches through the country, there be nothing compelled from the villages. ' --King Henry V. 

The Marquis of Suffolk's was a slow progress both in England and abroad, with many halts both on account of weather and of feasts and festivals. Cardinal Beaufort had hurried the party away from London partly in orderto make the match with Margaret of Anjou irrevocable, partly for thesake of removing Eleanor of Scotland, the only maiden who had everproduced the slightest impression on the monastic-minded Henry ofWindsor. 

When once out of London there were, however, numerous halts on theroad, --two or three days of entertainment at every castle, and then along delay at Canterbury to give time for Suffolk's retainers, and allthe heralds, pursuivants, and other adjuncts of pomp and splendour, tojoin them. They were the guests of Archbishop Stafford, one of the peaceparty, and a friend of Beaufort and Suffolk, so that their entertainmentwas costly and magnificent, as befitted the mediaeval notions of ahigh-born gentleman, Primate of all England. A great establishment forthe chase was kept by almost all prelates as a necessity; and wheneverthe weather was favourable, hunting and hawking could be enjoyed bythe princesses and their suite. Indeed Jean, if not in the saddle, waspretty certain to be visiting the hawks all the morning, or else playingat ball or some other sport with her cousins or some of the younggentlemen of Suffolk's train, who were all devoted to her. 

Lady Drummond found that to try to win her to quieter occupations was invain. The girl would not even try to learn French from Father Romualdby reading, though she would pick up words and phrases by laughing andchattering with the young knights who chanced to know the language. But as by this time Dame Lilias had learnt that there were bounds thatprincely pride and instinct prevented from overpassing, she contentedherself with seeing that there was fit attendance, either by herdaughter Annis, Sir Patrick himself, or one or other of Lady Suffolk'sladies. 

To some degree Eleanor shared in her sister's outdoor amusements, butshe was far more disposed to exercise her mind than her body. After having pined in weariness for want of intellectual food, heropportunities were delightful to her. Not only did she read with FatherRomuald with intense interest the copy of the bon Sire Jean Froissart inthe original, which he borrowed from the Archbishop's library, butshe listened with great zest to the readings which the Lady of Suffolkextracted from her chaplains and unwilling pages while the ladies satat work, for the Marchioness, a grandchild of Geoffrey Chaucer, had astrong taste for literature. Moreover, from one of the choir Eleanorobtained lessons on the lute, as well as her beloved harp, and wastaught to train her voice, and sing from 'pricke-song, ' so that she muchenjoyed this period of her journey. 

Nothing could be more courteous and punctilious than the Marquis ofSuffolk to the two princesses, and indeed to every one of his owndegree; but there was something of the parvenu about him, and, unlikethe Duke of York or Archbishop Stafford, who were free, bright, andgood-natured to the meanest persons, he was haughty and harsh to everyone below the line of gentle blood, and in his own train he kept up adiscipline, not too strict in itself, but galling in the manner in whichit was enforced by those who imitated his example. By the time the suitewas collected, Christmas and the festival of St. Thomas a Becket were sonear that it would have been neglect of a popular saint to have left hisshrine without keeping his day. And after the Epiphany, though theparty did reach Dover in a day's ride, a stormy period set in, puttingcrossing out of the question, and detaining the suite within the massivewalls of the castle. 

At last, on a brisk, windless day of frost, the crossing to Calaiswas effected, and there was another week of festivals spread by thehospitality of the Captain of Calais, where everything was as Englishas at Dover. When they again started on their journey, Suffolk severelyinsisted on the closest order, riding as travellers in a hostilecountry, where a misadventure might easily break the existing truce, although the territories of the Duke of Burgundy, through which theirroute chiefly lay, were far less unfavourable to the English than actualFrench countries; indeed, the Flemings were never willingly at war withthe English, and some of the Burgundian nobles and knights had been onintimate terms with Suffolk. Still, he caused the heralds always to keepin advance, and allowed no stragglers behind the rearguard that camebehind the long train of waggons loaded with much kitchen apparatus, andwith splendid gifts for the bride and her family, as well as equipmentsfor the wedding-party, and tents for such of the troop as could notfind shelter in the hostels or monasteries where the slowly-moving partyhalted for the night. It was unsafe to go on after the brief hours ofdaylight, especially in the neighbourhood of the Forest of Ardennes, forwolves might be near on the winter nights. It was thus that the firsttrouble arose with Sir Patrick Drummond's two volunteer followers. Ringan Raefoot had become in his progress a very different looking beingfrom the wild creature who had come with 'Geordie of the Red Peel, ' butthere was the same heart in him. He had endured obedience to the Knightof Glenuskie as a Scot, and with the Duke of York and through Englandthe discipline of the troop had not been severe; but Suffolk, though acourtly, chivalrous gentleman to his equals, had not the qualities ofpopularity, and chafed his inferiors. 

There were signs of confusion in the cavalcade as they passed betweensome of the fertile fields of Namur, and while Suffolk was haltingand about to send a squire to the rear to interfere, a couple of hisretainers hurried up, saying, 'My Lord, those Scottish thieves willbring the whole country down on us if order be not taken with them. '

Sir Patrick did not need the end of the speech to gallop off at fullspeed to the rear of all the waggons, where a crowd might be seen, andthere was a perfect Babel of tongues, rising in only too intelligibleshouts of rage. Swords and lances were flashing on one side among thehorsemen, on the other stones were flying from an ever-increasing numberof leather-jerkined men and boys, some of them with long knives, axes, and scythes. 

George Douglas's high head seemed to be the main object of attack, and he had Ringan Raefoot before him across his horse, apparentlyretreating, while David, Malcolm, and a few more made charges on thecrowd to guard him. When he was seen, there was a cry of which he coulddistinguish nothing but 'Ringan! Geordie! goose--Flemish hounds. '

Riding between, regardless of the stones, he shouted in the BurgundianFrench he had learnt in his campaigns, to demand the cause of theattack. The stones ceased, and the head man of the village, a stoutpeasant, came forward and complained that the varlet, as he calledRingan, had been stealing the village geese on their pond, and whenthey were about to do justice on him, yonder man-at-arms had burst in, knocked down and hurt several, and carried him off. 

Before there had been time for further explanation, to Sir Patrick'sgreat vexation, the Marshal of the troop and his guard came up, and thecomplaint was repeated. George, at the same time, having handed Ringanover to some others of the Scots, rode up with his head very high. 

'Sir Patrick Drummond, ' said the Marshal stiffly, 'you know my Lord'srules for his followers, as to committing outrages on the villeins ofthe country. '

'We are none of my Lord of Suffolk's following, ' began Douglas; but SirPatrick, determined to avoid a breach if possible, said--

'Sir Marshal, we have as yet heard but one side of the matter. If wronghave been done to these folk, we are ready to offer compensation, but weshould hear how it has been--'

'Am I to see my poor laddie torn to bits, stoned, and hanged by thesesavage loons, ' cried George, 'for a goose's egg and an old gander?'

Of course his defence was incomprehensible to the Flemings, but on theirside a man with a bound-up head and another limping were produced, and the head man spoke of more serious damage to others who could notappear, demanding both the aggressors to be dealt with, i. E. To behanged on the next tree. 

'These men are of mine, Master Marshal, ' said Sir Patrick. 

'My Lord can permit no violence by those under his banner, ' said theMarshal stiffly. 'I must answer it to him. '

'Do so then, ' said Sir Patrick. 'This is a matter for him. '

The Marshal, who had much rather have disposed of the Scottish thieveson his own responsibility, was forced to give way so far as to let theappeal be carried to the Marquis of Suffolk, telling the Flemings, insomething as near their language as he could accomplish, that his Lordwas sure to see justice done, and that they should follow and make theircomplaint. 

Suffolk sat on his horse, tall, upright, and angry. 'What is this Ihear, Sir Patrick Drummond, ' said he, 'that your miscreants of wildScots have been thieving from the peaceful peasant-folk, and thenbeating them and murdering them? I deemed you were a better man than tostand by such deeds and not give up the fellows to justice. '

'It were shame to hang a man for one goose, ' said Sir Patrick. 

'All plunder is worthy of death, ' returned the Englishman. 'Your Borderlaw may be otherwise, but 'tis not our English rule of honest men. Andhere's this other great lurdane knave been striking the poor rogues downright and left! A halter fits both. '

'My Lord, they are no subjects of England. I deny your rights overthem. '

'Whoever rides in my train is under me, I would have you to know, sir. '

'Hark ye, my Lord of Suffolk, ' said Sir Patrick, coming near enoughto speak in an undertone, 'that lurdane, as you call him, is heir of anoble house in Scotland, come here on a young man's freak of chivalry. You will do no service to the peace of the realms if you give him up tothese churls, for making in to save his servant. '

Before Sir Patrick had done speaking, while Suffolk was frowning grimlyin perplexity, a wild figure, with blood on the face, rushed forth witha limping run, crying 'Let the loons hang me and welcome, if they setsuch store by their lean old gander, but they shanna lay a finger on theMaster. '

And he had nearly precipitated himself into the hands of the sturdyrustics, who shouted with exultation, but with two strides Geordiecaught him up. 'Peace, Ringan! They shall no more hang thee than me, 'and he stood with one hand on Ringan's shoulder and his sword in theother, looking defiant. 

'If he be a young gentleman masking, I am not bound to know it, ' saidSuffolk impatiently to Drummond; 'but if he will give up that rascal, and make compensation, I will overlook it. '

'Who touches my fellow does so at his peril, ' shouted George, menacingwith his sword. 

'Peace, young man!' said Sir Patrick. 'Look here, my Lord of Suffolk, we Scots are none of your men. We need no favour of you English with ourallies. There be enough of us to make our way through these peasantsto the French border, so unless you let us settle the matter with a fewcrowns to these rascallions, we part company. '

'The ladies were entrusted to my charge, ' began Lord Suffolk. 

At that instant, however, both Jean and Eleanor came on the scene, riding fast, having in truth been summoned by Malcolm, who shrewdlysuspected that thus an outbreak might be best averted. 

It was Eleanor who spoke first. In spite of all her shyness, when herblood was up, she was all the princess. 

What is this, my Lord of Suffolk?' she said. 'If one of our followinghave transgressed, it is the part of ourselves and of Sir PatrickDrummond to see to it, as representing the King my brother. '

'Lady, ' replied Suffolk, bowing low and doffing his cap, 'yonderill-nurtured knave hath been robbing the country-folk, and the--theman-at-arms there not only refuses to give him up to justice, but hashurt, well-nigh slain, some of them in violently taking him from them. They ride in my train and I am responsible. '

Jean broke in: 'He only served the cowardly loons right. A wholecrowd of the rogues to hang one poor laddie for one goose! Shame on agentleman for hearkening to the foul-mouthed villains one moment. Comehere, Ringan. King Jamie's sister will never see them harm thee. '

Perhaps Suffolk was not sorry to see a way out of the perplexity. 'Far be it from a knight to refuse a boon to a fair lady in herselle, farther still to _two_ royal damsels. The lives are granted, sosatisfaction in coin be made to yon clamorous hinds. '

'I do not call it a boon but a right, said Eleanor gravely;'nevertheless I thank you, my Lord Marquis. '

George would have thrown himself at their feet, but Jean coldly said, 'Spare thanks, sir. It was for my brother's right, ' and she turned herhorse away, and rode off at speed, while Eleanor could not help pausingto say, 'She is more blithe than she lists to own! Sir Patrick, what thefellows claim must come from my uncle's travelling purse. '

George's face was red. This was very bitter to him, but he could onlysay, 'It shall be repaid so soon as I have the power. '

The peasants meanwhile were trying to make the best bargain they couldby representing that they were tenants of an abbey, so that the death ofthe gander was sacrilegious on that account as well as because it was inLent. To this, however, Sir Patrick turned a deaf ear: he threw thema couple of gold pieces, with which, as he told them, they were muchbetter off than with either the live goose or the dead Ringan. 

Suffolk had halted for the mid-day rest and was waiting for him tillthis matter was disposed of. 'Sir Patrick Drummond, ' he said with someceremony, 'this company of yours may be Scottish subjects, but whilethey are riding with me I am answerable for them. It may be the wont inScotland, but it is not with us English, to let unnamed adventurers rideunder our banner. '

'The young man is not unnamed, ' said Sir Patrick, on his mettle. 

'You know him?'

'I'll no say, but I have an inkling. My son David kenn'd him andanswered for him when he joined himself to my following; nor has hehitherto done aught to discredit himself. '

'What is his name, or the name he goes by?'

'George Douglas. '

'H'm! Your Scottish names may belong to any one, from your earls down toyour herdboys; and they, forsooth, are as like as not to call themselvesgentlemen. '

'And wherefore not, if theirs is gentle blood?' said Sir Patrick. 

'Nay, now, Sir Patrick, stand not on your Scotch pride. Gentlemen all, if you will, but you gave me to understand that this was none of yourbarefoot gentlemen, and I ask if you can tell who he truly is?'

'I have never been told, my Lord, and I had rather you put the questionto himself than to me. '

'Call him then, an' so please you. '

Sir Patrick saw no alternative save compliance; and he found Ringanundergoing a severe rating, not unaccompanied by blows from the wood ofhis master's lance. The perfect willingness to die for one another wasa mere natural incident, but the having transgressed, and caused sucha serious scrape, made George very indignant and inflict condignpunishment. 'Better fed than he had ever been in his life, the rogue'(and he looked it, though he muttered, 'A bannock and a sup of barleybrose were worth the haill of their greasy beeves!'). 'Better fed thanever before. Couldn't the daft loon keep the hands of him off poorfolks' bit goose? In Lent, too!' (by far the gravest part of theoffence). 

George did, however, transfer Ringan's explanation to Sir Patrick, andmake some apology. A nest of goose eggs apparently unowned had been toomuch for him, incited further by a couple of English horseboys, who werewilling to share goose eggs for supper, and let the Scotsman bear thewyte of it. The goose had been nearer than expected, and summoned herkin; the gander had shown fight; the geese had gabbled, the gooseherdand his kind came to the rescue, the horseboys had made off; Ringan, impeded by his struggle with the ferocious gander, was caught; andGeordie had come up just in time to see him pricked with goads and axesto a tree, where a halter was making ready for him. Of course, withoutasking questions, George hurried to save him, pushing his horse amongthe angry crew, and striking right and left, and equally of course theother Scots came to his assistance. 

Sir Patrick agreed that he could not have done otherwise, though betterthings might have been hoped of Ringan by this time. 

'But, ' said he, 'there's not an end yet of the coil. Here has my Lordof Suffolk been speiring after your name and quality, till I told him hemust ask at you and not at me. '

'Tell'd you the dour meddling Englishman my name?' asked George. 

'I told him only what ye told me yerself. In that there was no lie. But bethink you, royal maidens dinna come to speak for lads without acause. '

George's colour mounted high in his sunburnt, freckled cheek. 

'Kens--ken they, trow ye, Sir Pate?'

'Cannie folk, even lassies, can ken mair than they always tell, ' saidthe knight of Glenuskie. 'Yonder is my Lord Marquis, as they ca' him; sobethink you weel how you comport yerself with him, and my counsel is totell him the full truth. He is a dour man towards underlings, whom heviews as made not of the same flesh and blood with himself, but he isthe very pink of courtesy to men of his own degree. '

'Set him up, ' quoth the heir of the Douglas, with a snort. 'His owndegree, indeed! scarce even a knight's son!'

'What he deems his own degree, then, ' corrected Sir Patrick; 'but heholds himself full of chivalry to them, and loves a spice of the errantknight; ye may trust his honour. And mind ye, ' he added, laughing, 'I'venever been told your name and quality. '

Which the Master of Angus returned with an equally canny laugh. Theyoung man, as he approached the Marquis, drew his head up, straightenedhis tall form, brushed off the dust that obscured the bloody heart onhis breast, and altogether advanced with a step and bearing farmore like the great Earl's son than the man-at-arms of the Glenuskiefollowing; his eyes bespoke equality or more as they met those ofWilliam de la Pole, and yet there was that in the glance which forbadethe idea of insolence, so that Suffolk, instead of remaining seated roseto meet him and took him aside, standing as they talked. 

'Sir Squire, ' he said, 'for such I understand your degree in chivalry tobe. '

'I have not won my spurs, ' said George. 

'It is not our rule to take to foreign courts gentlemen from anotherrealm unknown to us, ' proceeded Suffolk, with much civility; 'therefore, unless any vow of chivalry binds you, I should be glad to know who it iswho does my banner the honour of riding in its company for a time. If asecret, it is safe with me. '

George gave his name. 

'That is the name of one of the chief nobles in Scotland, ' said Suffolk. 'Do I see before me his son?' George bowed. 

'Then, my Lord Douglas, am I permitted to ask wherefore this meandisguise? Is it for some vow of chivalry, or for that which is theguerdon of chivalry?' the Marquis added in a lower, softer tone, which, however, extremely chafed the proud young Scot, all the more that hefelt himself blushing. 

'My Lord, ' he said, 'I am not bound to render a reason to any save myfather, from whom I hope for letters shortly. '

To his further provocation Suffolk smiled meaningly, and answered--

'I understand. But if my Lord Douglas would honour my suite by assumingthe place that befits him, I should be happy that aught of mine shouldserve--'

'I am beholden to you, my Lord, for the offer, ' replied George, somewhatroughly. 'Whatever I make use of must be my father's or my own. All Icrave of you is to keep my secret, and not make me the common talk. Have I your licence to depart?'

Wherewith, tall, irate, and shamefaced, the Master of Angus stalked awayto meet David Drummond, to whom he confided his disgusts. 

'The parlous fulebody! As though I were like to make myself a mere sportfor ballad-mongers, such as Lady Elleen is always mooning after; or asif I would stoop to borrow a following of the English blackguard, tobolster up my state like King Herod in a mystery play. If my fatherlists, he may send me out a band, but the Douglas shall have Douglas'smen, or none at all. '

David approved the sentiment, but added--

'Ye could win to Jeanie if ye took your right place. '

'What good would that do me while she is full of her fine daffing, singing, clacking, English knights, that would only gibe at thered-haired Scot? Let her wait to see what the Red Douglas's hand can doin time of need! But, Davie, you that can speak to her, let her know howdeeply I thank her for what she did even now on my behalf, or rather onpuir Ringan's, and that I am trebly bound to her service though I makeno minstrel fule's work. '

David delivered his message, but did not obtain much by it for hisfriend's satisfaction, for Jeanie only tossed her head and answered--

'Does the gallant cock up his bonnet because he thinks it was for hissake. It was Elleen's doing there, firstly; and next, wadna we have donethe like for the meanest of Jamie's subjects?'

'Dinna credit her, Davie, ' said Eleanor. 'Ye should have seen her startin her saddle, and wheel round her palfrey at Malcolm's first word. '

'It wasna for him, ' replied Jean hotly. 'They dinna hang the like of himfor twisting a goose's neck; it was for the puir leal laddie; and ye maytak' that to him. '

'Shall I, Elleen?' asked David, with a twinkle in his eye of cousinlyteasing. 

'An' ye do not, I shall proclaim ye in the lists at Nanci as a corbiemessenger and mansworn squire, unworthy of your spurs, ' threatenedJeanie, in all good humour however. 

Suffolk, baffled in his desire to patronise the young Master of Angus, examined both Sir Patrick and Lady Drummond as far as their cautionwould allow, telling that the youth had confessed his rank and admittedthe cause--making inquiry whether the match would be held suitable inScotland, and why it had not taken place there--a matter difficultto explain, since it did not merely turn upon the young lady'sambition--which would have gone for nothing--but on the danger to theCrown of offending rival houses. Suffolk had a good deal about him ofthe flashy side of chivalry, and loved its brilliance and romance; hewas an honourable man, and the weak point about him was that he neverunderstood that knighthood should respect men of meaner birth. He wasgreatly flattered by the idea of having the eldest son of the great Earlof Angus riding as an unknown man-at-arms in his troop, and on the waylikewise to the most chivalrous of kings. His scheme would have been toequip the youth fully with horse and arms, and at some brilliant tourneysee him carry all before him, like Du Gueselin in his boyhood, and thatthe eclat of the affair should reflect itself upon his sponsor. Butthere were two difficulties in the way--the first that the proud youngScot showed no intention of being beholden to any Englishman, andsecondly, that the tall, ungainly youth did not look as if he hadattained to the full strength or management of his own limbs; and thoughin five or ten years' time he might be a giant in actual warfare, he didnot appear at all likely to be a match for the highly-trained championsof the tilt-yard. Moreover, he was not a knight as yet, and on soundingSir Patrick it was elicited that he was likely to deem it high treasonto be dubbed by any hand save that of his King or his father. 

So the Marquis could only feel sagacious, and utter a hint or twobefore the ladies which fell the more short, since he was persuaded, by Eleanor's having been the foremost in the defence, that she was theobject of the quest; and he now and then treated her to hints whichshe was slow to understand, but which exasperated while they amused hersister. 

The journey was so slow that it was not until the fourth week in Lentthat they were fairly in Lorraine. It had of course been announced bycouriers, and at Thionville a very splendid herald reached them, coveredall over with the blazonry of Jerusalem and the Two Sicilies, to saynothing of Provence and Anjou. He brought letters from King Rene, explaining that he and his daughters were en route from Provence, andhe therefore designated a nunnery where he requested that the Scottishprincesses and their ladies would deign to be entertained, and amonastery where my Lord Marquis of Suffolk and his suite would bewelcomed, and where they were requested to remain till Easter week, bywhich time the King of France, the Dauphin, and Dauphiness would be nearat hand, and there could be a grand entrance into Nanci. Of course therewas nothing to be done but to obey though the Englishmen muttered thatthe delay was in order to cast the expense upon the rich abbeys, and tomuster all the resources of Lorraine and Provence to cover the povertyof the many-titled King. 

The Abbey where the gentlemen were lodged was so near Nanci that it waseasy to ride into the city and make inquiries whether any tidings hadarrived from Scotland; but nothing had come from thence for either theprincesses, Sir Patrick, or Geordie of the Red Peel, so that the strangesituation of the latter must needs continue as long as he insisted onbeing beholden for nothing to the English upstart, as he scrupled notto call Lord Suffolk, whose new-fashioned French title was an offence inScottish ears. 

The ladies on their side had not the relaxation of these expeditions. The Abbey was a large and wealthy one, but decidedly provincial. Onlythe Lady Abbess and one sister could speak 'French of Paris, ' theothers used a dialect so nearly German that Lady Suffolk could barelyunderstand them, and the other ladies, whose French was not strong, could hold no conversation with them. 

To insular minds, whether Scottish or English, every deviation of theGallican ritual from their own was a sore vexation. If Lady Drummond haddevotion enough not to be distracted by the variations, the young ladiescertainly had not, and Jean very decidedly giggled during some of themost solemn ceremonies, such as the creeping to the cross--the largecarved cross in the middle of the graveyard, to which all in turn wentupon their knees on Good Friday and kissed it. 

Last year, at this season, they had been shut up in their prison-castle, and had not shared in any of these ceremonies; and Eleanor tried tothink of King Henry and Sister Esclairmonde, and how they were throwingtheir hearts into the great thoughts of the day, and she felt distressedat being infected by Jean's suppressed laughter at the movements of thefat Abbess, and at the extraordinary noises made by the younger nunswith clappers, as demonstrations against Judas on the way to the EasterSepulchre. 

She was so much shocked at herself that she wanted to confess; butFather Romuald had gone with the male members of the party, andthe chaplain did not half understand her French, though he gave herabsolution. 

Meantime all the nuns were preparing Easter eggs, whereof there wasa great exchange the next day, when the mass was as splendid as theresources of the Abbey could furnish, and all were full of joy andcongratulation, the sense of oneness for once inspiring all. 

Moreover, after mass, Sir Patrick and an Englishman rode over withtidings that King Rene had sent a messenger, who was on the Tuesday toguide them all to a glade where the King hoped to welcome the ladiesas befitted their rank and beauty, and likewise to meet the royaltravellers from Bourges, so that all might make their entry into Nancitogether. 

The King himself, it was reported, did nothing but ride backwards andforwards between Nanci and the convent where he had halted, arrangingthe details of the procession, and of the open-air feast at therendezvous upon the way. 

'I hope, ' said Lady Suffolk, 'that King Rene's confections will not beas full of rancid oil as those of the good sisters. I know not whichwas more distasteful--their Lenten Fast or their Easter Feast. We have, certes, done our penance this Lent!'

To which the rest of the ladies could not but agree, though LadyDrummond felt it somewhat treasonable to the good nuns, theirentertainers; and both she and Eleanor recollected how differentlyEsclairmonde would have felt the matter, and how little these matters ofdaily fare would have concerned her. 

'To-day we shall see her!' exclaimed Eleanor, springing to the floor, as, early on a fine spring morning, the ladies in the guest-chamber ofthe nunnery began to bestir themselves at the sound of one of the manyconvent bells. 'They are at Toul, and we shall meet this afternoon. Ihave not slept all night for thinking of it. '

'No, and hardly let me sleep, ' said Jean, slowly sitting up in bed. 'Thou hast waked me so often that I shall be pale and heavy-eyed for thepageant. '

'Little fear of that, my bonnie bell, ' said old Christie, laughing. 

'Besides, ' said Eleanor, 'nobody will fash themselves to look at us inthe midst of the pageant. There will be the King to see, and the bride. Oh, I wish we were not to ride in it, and could see it instead at ourease. '

'Thou wast never meant for a princess, ' said Jean; 'Christie, Annis, forpity's sake, see till her. She is busking up her hair just as was gudeenough for the old nuns, but no for kings and queens. '

'I hate the horned cap, in which I feel like a cow, and methought Megwad feel the snood a sight for sair een, ' said Eleanor. 

'Meg indeed! Thou must frame thy tongue to Madame la Dauphine. '

'Before the lave of them, but not with sweet Meg herself. '

'Our sister behoves to have learnt what suits her station, and winnabide sic ways from an ower forward sister. Dinna put us all to shame, and make the folk trow we came from some selvage land, ' said Jean, tossing her head. 

'Hast ever seen me carry myself unworthy of King James's daughter?'proudly demanded Eleanor. 

'Nay, now, bairnies, fash not yoursells that gate, ' interfered oldChristie; 'nae fear but Lady Elleen will be douce and canny enow whenfolks are there to see. She kens what fits a king's daughter. '

Jean made a little hesitation over kirtles and hoods, but fortunatelyladies, however royal, had no objection to wearing the same robes twice, and both she and her sister were objects to delight the eyes of thecrowding and admiring nuns when they mounted their palfreys in thequadrangle, and, attended by the Lady of Glenuskie and her daughter, rode forth with the Marchioness of Suffolk at the great gateway to jointhe cavalcade, headed by Suffolk and Sir Patrick. 

After about two miles' riding on a woodland road they became aware offitful strains of music and a continuous hum of voices, heard throughthe trees and presently a really beautiful scene opened before them, asthe trees seemed to retreat, so as to unfold a wide level space, furtherenclosed by brilliant tapestry hangings, their scarlet, blue, gold andsilver hues glittering in an April sun, and the fastenings concealed bygarlands of spring flowers. An awning of rich gold embroidery on a greenground was spread so as to shelter a cloth glittering with plate andbestrewn with flowers; horses, in all varieties of ornamental housings, were being led about; there was a semicircle of musicians in the rear;and, as soon as the guests came in sight, there came forward, doffinghis embroidered and jewelled cap, a gentleman of middle stature andof exceeding grace and courtesy, whose demeanour, no less than theattendance around him, left no doubt that this was no other than Rene, Duke of Anjou and of Lorraine, Count of Provence, and King of the TwoSicilies and of Jerusalem. 

'Welcome, ' he exclaimed in French, 'welcome, fair and royal maidens;welcome, noble lord, the representative of our dear brother and son ofEngland. Deign on your journey to partake of the humble and rural fareof the poor minstrel shepherd. '

Wherewith the music broke out in strains of welcome from the grove, withvoices betweenwhiles Rene himself assisted each princess to dismount, and respectfully kissed her on the cheek as she stood on the ground. Then, taking a hand of each, he led them to a great chestnut tree, theshade of whose branches was assisted by hangings of blue embroideredwith white, beneath which cushions, mantles, and seats were spread, anda bevy of ladies in bright garments stood. From these came forward twobeautiful young girls, with fair complexions and flowing golden hair, scarcely confined by the bands whence transparent veils descended. KingRene presented them as his two daughters, Yolande and Margaret, to thetwo Scottish maidens, and there were kindly as well as courtly embraceson either side. The Lady of Glenuskie, as a king's grand-daughter, withAnnis and Lady Suffolk, had likewise been led up to take their places;the four royal maidens were seated together. Yolande, the most regularlybeautiful, but with an anxious look on her face, talked to Eleanorof her journey; Margaret, who had one of those very simple, innocent-looking child-faces that sometimes form the mask of immenseenergy of character, was more absent and inattentive to her dutiesas hostess; moreover, she and Jean did not understand one another'slanguage so well as did the other two. Delicate little cakes, and tallVenice glasses, spirally ornamented, and containing light wines, wereserved to them on the knee by a tall, large, fair-haired youth, who wasnamed to them as the Duke Sigismund, of Alsace and the Tyrol. 

Jean had time to look about, and heartily wish that her beautiful flaxenhair was loose, and not encumbered with the rolled headgear with twoprojecting horns, against which Elleen had rebelled; since York and evenLondon were evidently behind the fashion. Margaret's hair was bound witha broad band of daisies, and Yolande's with violets, both in allusionto their names, Yolande being the French corruption of Violante, herProvencal name, in allusion to the golden violet. Jean thought of theScottish thistle, and studied the dresses, tight-fitting 'cotte hardis'of bright, deep, soft, rose colour, edged with white fur, and whiteskirts embroidered with their appropriate flowers. She wondered how soonthis could be imitated, casting a few glances at Duke Sigismund, who stood waiting, as if desirous of attracting Yolande's attention. Eleanor, on the other hand, even while answering Yolande, had a feelingas if she had arrived at the completion of the very vision which she hadimagined on the dreary tower of Dunbar. Here was the warm spring sun, shining on a scene of unequalled beauty and brilliancy, set in thespring foliage and blossom, whence, as if to rival the human performers, gushes of nightingales' song came in every interval. Hearing Eleanor'seager question whether that were the nightingale whose liquid trillingsshe heard, King Rene realised that the Scottish maidens knew not thenote, and signed to the minstrels to cease for a time, then came and saton a cushion beside the young lady, and enjoyed her admiration. 

'Ah!' she said, 'that is the king of the minstrel birds. '

He smiled. 'The royal lady then has her orders and ranks for the birds. '

'Oh yes. If the royal eagle is the king, and the falcon is the trueknight, the nightingale and mavis, merle and lark, are the minstrels. And the lovely seagull, oh, how call you it?--with the long whitefloating wings rising and falling, is the graceful dancer. '

'Guifette, ' Rene gave the word, 'or in Provence, Rondinel dellamar--hirondelle de la mer!'

'Swallow! Ah, the pilgrim birds, who visit the Holy Land. '

'Lady, you should be of our court of the troubadours, ' said Rene; 'yourwords should be a poem. '

He was called away at the moment, and craved her licence so politelythat the chivalrous minstrel king seemed to Elleen all she had dreamtof. The whole was perfect, nothing wanting save that for which herheart was all the time beating high, the presence of her belovedsister Margaret. It was as if a scene out of a romance of fairylandhad suddenly taken reality, and she more than once closed her eyes andsqueezed her hands to try whether she was awake. 

A fanfaron of trumpets came on the wind, and all were on the alert, while Eleanor's heart throbbed so that she could hardly stand, andcaught at Margaret's arm, as she murmured with a gasp, 'My sister! Mysister!'

'Ah! you are happy to meet once more, ' said Margaret. 'The saints onlyknow whether Yolande and I shall ever see one another's faces again whenonce I am carried away to your dreary England. '

'England is not mine, lady, ' said Eleanor, rather sharply. 'We reckonthe English as our bitterest foes. '

'You have come with an Englishman though, ' said Margaret, 'whom I am totake for my husband, ' and she laughed a gay innocent laugh. A grizzledold knight, whom I am not like to mistake for my true spouse. Have youseen him? What like is he?'

'The gentlest and sweetest of kings, ' returned Eleanor; 'as fond of allthat is good and fair and holy as is your own royal father. '

Margaret coughed a little. 'My husband should be a gallant warlikeknight, ' she said, 'such as was this king's father. '

'Oh, see! cried Eleanor. 'I saw the glitter of the spears through thetrees. There's another blast of the trumpets! Oh! oh! it is a gallantsight! If only Jamie, my little brother, could see it! It stirs one'sblood. '

'Ah yes, Elleen, ' cried Jean. 'This is something to have come for. '

'And Margaret, sweet Madge, ' repeated Eleanor to herself, in her nativeScotch, while King Rene's trumpets, harps, and hautbois burst forth withan answering peal, so exciting her that her yellow-brown eyes sparkledand the colour rose in her cheeks, giving her a strange beauty full ofeager spirit. Duke Sigismund turned and gazed at her in surprise, and anold herald who was waiting near observed, 'Is that the daughter of thecaptive King of Scotland? She has his very countenance and bearing. '

The trumpeters and other attendants, bearing the blue-lilied banner ofFrance, appeared among the trees, and dividing, formed a lane for theadvance of the royal personages. King Rene went forward to meet them, foremost, so as to be ready to hold the stirrup for his sister the Queenof France. Duke Sigismund seemed about to give his hand to the InfantaViolante, as the Provencaux called Yolande, but she was beforehand withhim, linking her arm into Jean's, while Margaret took Eleanor's, andsaid in her ear, 'The great awkward German! He is come here to pay hiscourt to Yolande, but she will none of him. She has better hopes. '

Eleanor hardly attended, for her whole soul was bent on the partyarriving. King Charles, riding on a handsome bay horse, closely followedby a conveyance such as was called in England a whirlicote, from whichthe Queen was handed out by her brother, and then, on a sorrel palfrey, in a blue gold-embroidered riding-suit--could that be Margaret ofScotland? The long reddish-yellow hair and the tall figure had afamiliar look. King Rene was telling her something as he helped her toalight, and with one spring, regardless of all, and of all ceremony, she sprang forward. 'My wee Jeanie! My Elleen! My titties! Mine ain weethings, ' she cried in her native tongue, as she embraced them by turns, as if she would have devoured them, with a gush of tears. 

Though these were times of great state and ceremony, yet they were alsovery demonstrative times, when tears and embracings were expected ofnear kindred; and, indeed, the King and Queen were equally occupiedwith their brother and nieces; but presently Eleanor heard a low voiceobserve, with a sort of sarcastic twang, 'If Madame has sufficientlysatiated her tenderness, perhaps she will remember the due of others. 'Margaret started as if stung, and Eleanor, looking up, beheld a face, young but sharp, and with a keen, hard, set look in the narrow eyes, contracted brow, and thin lips, that made her feel as though the serpenthad found his way into her paradise. Hastily turning, Margaret presentedher sisters to her husband, who bowed, and kissed each with thosestrange thin lips, that again made Eleanor shudder, perhaps because ofhis compliment, 'We are graced by these ladies, in whom we have anotherMadame la Dauphine, as well as an errant beauty. '

Jean appropriated the last words, but Elleen felt sure that the earlierones were ironical, both to her and to the Dauphiness, on whose cheeksthey brought a flush. The two kings, however, turned to receive thesisters, and nothing could be kinder than the tone of King Charles andQueen Marie towards the sisters of their good daughter, as they termedthe Dauphiness, who on her side was welcomed by Rene as the sweet niece, sharer of his tastes, who brought minstrelsy and poetry in her train. 

'Trust her for that, my fair uncle, ' said her husband in a cold, drytone. 

All the royal personages sat down on the cushions spread on the grassto the 'rural fare, ' as King Rene called it, which he had elaboratelyprepared for them, while the music sounded from the trees in welcome. 

All was, as the kind prince announced, without ceremony, and he placedLord Suffolk, as the representative of Henry VI. , next to the youngInfanta Margaret, and contrived that the Dauphiness should sit betweenher two sisters, whose hands she clasped from time to time within herown in an ecstasy of delight, while inquiries came from time to time, low breathed in her native tongue, for wee Mary and Jamie and babyAnnaple. 'The very sound of your tongues is music to my lugs, ' she said. 'And how much mair when ye speak mine ain bonnie Scotch, sic as I neverhear save by times when one archer calls to another. Jeanie, you favourour mother. 'Tis gude for ye! I am blithe one of ye is na like puirMarget!'

'Dinna say that, ' cried Jean, in an access of feeling. ''Tis hame, andit's hame to see sic a sonsie Scots face--and it minds me of my blessedfather. '

It was true that Margaret and Eleanor both were thorough Scotswomen, andwith the expressive features, the auburn colouring, and tall figures oftheir father; but there was for the rest a melancholy contrast betweenthem, for while Elleen had the eager, hopeful, lively healthfulness ofearly youth, giving a glow to her countenance and animation to the lithebut scarcely-formed figure, Margaret, with the same original mould, had the pallor and puffiness of ill-health in her complexion, and alargeness of growth more unsatisfactory than leanness, and though herface was lighted up and her eyes sparkled with the joy of meeting hersisters, there were lines about the brow and round the mouth ill suitedto her age, which was little over twenty years. 

CHAPTER 7. THE MINSTREL KING'S COURT

 'Where throngs of knights and barons bold, In weeds of peace, high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend. '--L'Allegro. 

The whole of the two Courts had to be received in the capital ofLorraine in full state under the beautiful old gateway, but as mediaevalpageants are wearisome matters this may be passed over, though it wasexceptionally beautiful and poetic, owing to the influence ofKing Rene's taste, and it perfectly dazzled the two Scottishprincesses--though, to tell the truth, they were somewhat disappointedin the personal appearance of their entertainers, who did not come up totheir notion of royalty. Their father had been a stately and magnificentman; their mother a beautiful woman. Henry VI. Was a tall, well-made, handsome man, with Plantagenet fairness and regularity of feature and asweetness all his own; but both these kings were, like all the house ofValois, small men with insignificant features and sallow complexions. Rene, indeed, had a distinction about him that compensated for want ofbeauty, and Charles had a good-natured, easy, indolent look and gracioussmile that gave him an undefinable air of royalty. Rene's daughterswere both very lovely, but their beauty came from the other side of thehouse, with the blood of Charles the Great, through their mother, theheiress of Lorraine. 

There was a curious contrast between the brothers-in-law, Charles, whendismounting at the castle gate, not disguising his weariness and reliefthat it was over, and Rene, eager and anxious, desirous of making allhis bewildering multitude of guests as happy as possible, while theDauphin Louis stood by, half interested and amused, half mocking. Hewas really fond of his uncle, though in a contemptuous superior sortof manner, despising his religious and honourable scruples as meresimplicity of mind. 

Rene of Anjou has been hardly dealt with, as is often the case withprinces upright, religious, and chivalrous beyond the average of theirtime, yet without the strength or the genius to enforce their rights andopinions, and therefore thrust aside. After his early unsuccessful warshis lands of Provence and Lorraine were islands of peace, prosperity, and progress, and withal he was an extremely able artist, musician, and poet, striving to revive the old troubadour spirit of Provence, andeverywhere casting about him an atmosphere of refinement and kindliness. 

The hall of his hotel at Nanci was a beautiful place, with all thegorgeous grace of the fifteenth century, and here his guests assembledfor supper soon after their arrival, all being placed as much aspossible according to rank. Eleanor found herself between a deaf oldChurch dignitary and Duke Sigismund, on whose other side was Yolande, the Infanta, as the Provencals called the daughter of Rene; while Jeanfound the Dauphin on one side of her and a great French Duke onthe other. Louis amused himself with compliments and questions thatsometimes nettled her, sometimes pleased her, giving her a sense that hemight admire her beauty, but was playing on her simplicity, and tryingto make her betray the destitution of her home and her purpose incoming. 

Eleanor, on the other hand, found her cavalier more simple than herself. In fact, he properly belonged to the Infanta, but she paid no attentionto him, nor did the Bishop try to speak to the Scottish princess. Sigismund's French was very lame, and Eleanor's not perfect, but she hada natural turn for languages, and had, in the convent, picked up someGerman, which in those days had many likenesses to her own broad Scotch. They made one another out, between the two languages, with signs, smiles, and laughter, and whereas the subtilties along the tablerepresented the entire story of Sir Gawain and his Loathly Lady, shecontrived to explain the story to him, greatly to his edification; andthey went on to King Arthur, and he did his best to narrate the Germanreading of Sir Parzival. The difficulties engrossed them till therose-water was brought in silver bowls to wash their fingers, on whichSigismund, after observing and imitating the two ladies, remarked thatthey had no such Schwarmerci in Deutschland, and Yolande looked as ifshe could well believe it, while Elleen, though ignorant of the meaningof his word, laughed and said they had as little in Scotland. 

There was still an hour of daylight to come, and moon-rise would notbe far off, so that the hosts proposed to adjourn to the garden, wherefresh music awaited them. 

King Rene was an ardent gardener. His love of flowers was viewed as oneof his weaknesses, only worthy of an old Abbot, but he went his own way, and the space within the walls of his castle at Nanci was lovely withbright spring flowers, blossoming trees, and green walks, where, as LadySuffolk said, her grandfather could have mused all day and all nightlong, to the sound of the nightingales. 

But what the sisters valued it for was that they could ramble awaytogether to a stone bench under the wall, and there sit at perfect easetogether and pour out their hearts to one another. Margaret, indeed, touched them as they leant against her as if to convince herself oftheir reality, and yet she said that they knew not what they did whenthey put the sea between themselves and Scotland, nor how sick the heartcould be for its bonnie hills. 

'O gin I could see a mountain top again, I feel as though I could layme down and die content. What garred ye come daundering to these wearyflats of France?'

'Ah, sister, Scotland is not what you mind it when our blessed fatherlived!'

And they told her how their lives had been spent in being hurried fromone prison-castle to another. 

'Prison-castles be not wanting here, ' replied Margaret with asigh. Then, as Elleen held up a hand in delight at the thrill of aneighbouring nightingale, she cried, 'What is yon sing-song, seesaw, gurgling bird to our own bonnie laverock, soaring away to the sky, without making such a wark of tuning his pipes, and never thinkinghimself too dainty and tender for a wholesome frost or two! So Jamiesent you off to seek for husbands here, did he? Couldna ye put up with aleal Scot, like Glenuskie there?'

'There were too many of them, ' said Jean. 

'And not ower leal either, ' said Eleanor. 

'Lealty is a rare plant ony gate, ' sighed Margaret, 'and where saelittle is recked of our Scots royalty, mayhap ye'll find that tocherlesslasses be less sought for than at hame. Didna I see thee, Elleen, clavering with that muckle Archduke that nane can talk with?'

'Ay, ' said Eleanor. 

'He is come here a-courting Madame Yolande, with his father's goodwill, for Alsace and Tyrol be his, mountains that might be in our ainHielands, they tell me. '

'Methougnt, ' said Eleanor, 'she scunnered from him, as Jeanie doesat--shall I say whom?'

'And reason gude, ' said Margaret. 'She has a joe of her ain, Count Ferryde Vaudemont, that is the heir male of the line, and a gallant laddie. At the great joust the morn methinks ye'll see what may well be sung byminstrels, and can scarce fail to touch the heart of a true troubadour, as is my good uncle Rene. '

Margaret became quite animated, and her sisters pressed her to tell themif she knew of any secret; but she playfully shook her head, and saidthat if she did know she would not mar the romaunt that was to be playedout before them. 

'Nay, ' said Eleanor, 'we have a romaunt of our own. May I tell, Jeanie?'

'Who recks?' replied Jean, with a little toss of her head. 

Thus Eleanor proceeded to tell her sister what--since the adventure ofthe goose--had gone far beyond a guess as to the tall, red-haired youngman-at-arms who had ridden close behind David Drummond. 

'Douglas, Douglas, tender and true, ' exclaimed Margaret. 'He loves youso as to follow for weeks, nay, months, in this guise without word orlook. Oh, Jeanie, Jeanie, happy lassie, did ye but ken it! Nay, put noton that scornful mou'. It sorts you not weel, my bairn. He is of degreebefitting a Stewart, and even were he not, oh, sisters, sisters, betterto wed with a leal loving soul in ane high peel-tower than to bear abroken heart to a throne!' and she fell into a convulsive fit of chokedand bitter weeping, which terrified her sisters. 

At the sound of a lute, apparently being brought nearer, accompaniedwith footsteps, she hastily recovered herself, and rose to her feet, while a smile broke out over her face, as the musician, a slender, graceful figure, appeared on the path in the moonlight. 

'Answering the nightingales, Maitre Alain?' she said. 

'This is the court of nightingales, Madame, ' he replied. 'It ispresumption to endeavour to rival them even though the heart be tornlike that of Philomel. ' Wherewith he touched his lute, and began to singfrom his famous idyll--

 'Ainsi mon coeur se guermentait De la grande douleur qu'il portait, En ce plaisant lieu solitaire Ou un doux ventelet venait, Si seri qu'on le sentait Lorsque la violette mieux flaire. '

Again, as Eleanor heard the sweet strains, and saw the long shadows ofthe trees and the light of the rising moon, it was like the attainmentof her dreamland; and Margaret proceeded to make known to her sistersMaitre Alain Chartier, the prince of song, adding, 'Thou, too, wast asongster, sister Elleen, even while almost a babe. Dost sing as of old?'

'I have brought my father's harp, ' said Eleanor. 

'Ah! I must hear it, ' she cried with effusion. 'The harp. It will be hisvoice again. '

'Madame! Madame! Madame la Dauphine. Out here! Ever reckless of dew--ay, and of waur than dew. '

These last words were added in Scotch, as a tall, dark-cloaked figureappeared on the scene from between the trees. Margaret laughed, with alittle annoyance in her tone, as she said, 'Ever my shadow, good Madame, ever wearying yourself with care. Here, sisters, here is my trusty andwell-beloved Dame de Ste. Petronelle, who takes such care of me that shedogs my footsteps like a messan. '

'And reason gude, ' replied the lady. 'Here is the muckle hall allalight, and this King Rene, as they call him, twanging on his lute, andbut that the Seigneur Dauphin is talking to the English Lord on somequestion of Gascon boundaries, we should have him speiring for you. Isaw the eye of him roaming after you, as it was. '

'His eye seeking me!' cried Margaret, springing up from her languidattitude with a tone like exultation in her voice, such as evoked a lowsigh from the old dame, as all began to move towards the castle. Shewas the widow of a Scotch adventurer who had won lands and honours inFrance; and she was now attached to the service of the Dauphiness, notas her chief lady--that post was held by an old French countess--butstill close enough to her to act as her guardian and monitor whenever itwas possible to deal with her. 

The old lady, in great delight at meeting a compatriot, poured out herconfidences to Dame Lilias of Glenuskie. Infinitely grieved and annoyedwas she when, early as were the ordinary hours of the Court of Nanci, itproved that the Dauphiness had called up her sisters an hour before, andtaken them across the chace which surrounded the castle to hear mass ata convent of Benedictine nuns. 

It was perfectly safe, though only a tirewoman and a page followed theDauphiness, and only Annis attended her two sisters, for the groundswere enclosed, and King Rene's domains were far better ruled and morepeaceful than those of the princes who despised him. It was an exquisitespring morning, with grass silvery with dew and enamelled with flowers, birds singing ecstatically on every branch, squirrels here and thereracing up a trunk. Margaret was in joyous spirits, and almost dancedbetween her sisters. Eleanor was amazed at the luxuriant beauty of thescene, and could not admire enough. Jean, though at first a little crossat the early summons, could not but be infected with their delight, andthe three laughed and frolicked together with almost childish glee inthe delight of their content. 

The great, gentle-eyed, long-horned kine were being driven in at theconvent-yard to be milked by the lay-sisters; at another entrance, peasants, beggars, and sick were congregating; the bell from thelace-works spire rang out, and the Dauphiness led the way to thegateway, where, at her knock on the iron-studded door, a lay-sisterlooked through the wicket. 

'Good sister, here are some early pilgrims to the shrine of St. Scolastique, ' she began. 

'To the other gate, ' said the portress hastily. Margaret's face twinkledwith fun. 'I wad fain take a turn with the beggar crew, ' she said toher sisters in Scotch; 'but it might cause too great an outcry if I werekenned. Commend me to the Mere St. Antoine, ' she added in French, 'andtell her that the Dauphiness would fain hear mass with her. '

The portress cast an anxious doubtful glance, but being apparentlyconvinced, cried out for pardon, while hastily unlocking her door, andsending a message to the Abbess. 

As they entered the cloistered quadrangle the nuns in black processionwere on their way to mass, but turned aside to receive their visitors. Margaret knelt for a moment for the blessing and kiss of the Abbess, then greeted the nun whom she had mentioned, but begged for no furtherceremony, and then was led into church. 

It was a brief festival mass, and was not really over before she, witha restlessness of which her sisters began to be conscious, began to riseand make her way out. A nun followed and entreated her to stay and breakher fast, but she would accept nothing save a draught of milk, swallowedhastily, and with signs of impatience as her sisters took their turn. 

She walked quickly, rather as one guilty of an escapade, againsurprising her sisters, who fancied the liberty of a married princessillimitable. 

Jean even ventured to ask her why she went so fast, 'Would the King ofFrance be displeased?'

'He! Poor gude sire Charles! He heeds not what one does, good or bad;no, not the murdering of his minion before his eyes, ' said Margaret, half laughing. 

'Thy husband, would he be angered?' pressed on Jean. 

'My husband? Oh no, it is not in the depth and greatness of is thoughtsto find fault with his poor worm, ' said Margaret, a strange look, halfof exultation, half of pain, on her face. 'Ah! Jeanie, woman, none kensin sooth how great and wise my Dauphin is, nor how far he sees beyondall around him, so that he cannot choose but scorn them and make themhis tools. When he has the power, he will do more for this poor realm ofFrance than any king before him. '

'As our father would have done for Scotland, ' said Eleanor. 

'Then he tells thee of his plans?'

'Me!' said Margaret, with the suffering look returning. 'How should hetalk to me, the muckle uncouthie wife that I am, kenning nought but awheen ballads and romaunts--not even able to give him the heir for whomhe longs, ' and she wrung her hands together, 'how can I be aught but apain and grief to him!'

'Nay, but thou lovest him?' said Jean, over simply. 

'Lassie!' exclaimed Margaret hotly, 'what thinkest thou I am made of?How should a wife not love her man, the wisest, canniest prince inChristendom, too! Love him! I worship him, as the trouveres say, withall my heart, and wad lay down my life if I could win one kind blush ofhis eye; and yet--and yet--such a creature am I that I am ever wittinglyor unwittingly transgressing these weary laws, and garring him think mea fool, or others report me such, ' clenching her hands again. 

'Madame de Ste. Petronelle?' asked Jean. 

'She! Oh no! She is a true loyal Lindsay, heart and soul, dour andwearisome; but she would guard me from every foe, and most of all, asshe is ever telling me, from mine ain self, that is my worst enemy. Onlyshe sets about it in such guise that, for very vexation, I am drivenfarther! No, it is the Countess de Craylierre, who is forever spitingme, and striving to put whatever I do in a cruel light, if I dinna walkafter her will--hers, as if she could rule a king's daughter!'

And Margaret stamped her foot on the ground, while a hot flush arose inher cheeks. Her sisters, young girls as they were, could not understandher moods, either of wild mirth, eager delight in poetry and music, childish wilfulness and petulant temper or deep melancholy, allcoming in turn with feverish alternation and vehemence. As the ladiesapproached the castle they were met by various gentlemen, among whomwas Maitre Alain Chartier, and a bandying of compliments and witticismsbegan in such rapid French that even Eleanor could not follow it; butthere was something in the ring of the Dauphiness's hard laugh thatpained her, she knew not why. 

At the entrance they found the chief of the party returning fromthe cathedral, where they had heard mass, not exactly in state, butpublicly. 

'Ha! ha! good daughter, ' laughed the King, 'I took thee for a slug abed, but it is by thy errant fashion that thou hast cheated us. '

'I have been to mass at St Mary's, ' returned Margaret, 'with my sisters. I love the early walk across the park. '

'No wonder, ' came from between the thin lips of the Dauphin, as his keenlittle eye fell on Chartier. Margaret drew herself up and vouchsafed notto reply. Jean marvelled, but Eleanor felt with her, that she was tooproud to defend herself from the insult. Madame de Ste. Petronelle, however, stepped forward and began: 'Madame la Dauphine loves notattendance. She made her journey alone with Mesdames ses soeurs with nomale company, till she reached home. '

But before the first words were well out of the good lady's mouth Louishad turned away, with an air of the most careless indifference, to acourtier in a long gown, longer shoes, and a jewelled girdle, who becameknown to the sisters as Messire Jamet de Tillay. Eleanor felt indignant. Was he too heedless of his wife to listen to the vindication. 

Madame de Ste. Petronelle took the Lady of Glenuskie aside and pouredout her lamentations. That was ever the way, she said, the Dauphinesswould give occasion to slanderers, by her wilful ways, and there werethose who would turn all she said or did against her, poisoning the earof the Dauphin, little as he cared. 

'Is he an ill man to her?' asked Dame Lilias little prepossessed by hislooks. 

'He! Madame, mind you an auld tale of the Eatin wi' no heart in hisbody! I verily believe he and his father both were created like thatgiant. No that the King is sair to live with either, so that he can eatand drink and daff, and be let alone to take his ease. I have seen him;and my gude man and them we kenned have marked him this score of years;and whether his kingdom were lost or won, whether his best friends werefree or bound, dead or alive, he recked as little as though it were agame of chess, so that he can sit in the ingle neuk at Bourges and toywith Madame de Beaute, shameless limmer that she is! and crack his fistswith yon viper, Jamet de Tillay, and the rest of the crew. But he'lllet you alone, and has a kindly word for them that don't cross him--andthere be those that would go through fire and water for him. He is nothat ill! But for his son, he has a sneer and a spite such as never hisfather had. He is never a one to sit still and let things gang theirgate; but he has as little pity or compassion as his father, and if KingCharles will not stir a finger to hinder a gruesome deed, Dauphin Louiswill not spare to do it so that he can gain by it, and I trow verilythat to give pain and sting with that bitter tongue of his is joy tohim. '

'Then is there no love between him and our princess?'

'Alack, lady, there is love, but 'tis all on one side of the house. Idoubt me whether Messire le Dauphin hath it in him to love any livingcreature. I longed, when I saw your maidens, that my poor lady had beenas bonnie as her sister Joanna; but mayhap that would not have servedher better. If she were as dull as the Duchess of Brittany--who they saycan scarce find a word to give to a stranger at Nantes--she might evenanger him less than she does with her wit and her books and her verses, sitting up half the night to read and write rondeaux, forsooth!'

'Her blessed father's own daughter!'

'That may be; but how doth it suit a wife? It might serve here, whereevery one is mad after poesy, as they call it; but such ways are inno good odour with the French dames, who never put eye to book, pen topaper, nor foot to ground if they can help it; and when she behoves togang off roaming afoot, as she did this morn, there's no garring theill-minded carlines believe that there's no ill purpose behind. '

'It is scarce wise. '

'Yet to hear her, 'tis such walking and wearing herself out that keepsthe life in her and alone gives her sleep. My puir bairn, worshippingthe very ground her man sets foot on, and never getting aught but a gibeor a girn from him, and, for the very wilfulness of her sair heart, everputting herself farther from him!'

Such was the piteous account that Madame de Ste. Petronelle (otherwiseDame Elspeth Johnstone) gave, and which the Lady of Glenuskie soonperceived to be only too true during the days spent at Nanci. To thetwo young sisters the condition of things was less evident. To Margarettheir presence was such sunshine, that they usually saw her in herhighest, most flighty, and imprudent spirits, taking at times absolutedelight in shocking her two duennas; and it was in this temper that, onehot noon day, coming after an evening of song and music, finding AlainChartier asleep on a bench in the garden, she declared that she mustkiss the mouth from which such sweet strains proceeded, and bendingdown, imprinted so light a kiss as not to waken him, then turned round, her whole face rippling with silent laughter at the amusement of Jeanand Margaret of Anjou, Elleen's puzzled gravity, and the horror anddismay of her elder ladies. But Dame Lilias saw what she did not--a lookof triumphant malice on the face of Jamet de Tillay. Or at other timesshe would sit listening, with silent tears in her eyes, to plaintiveScottish airs on Eleanor's harp, which she declared brought back herfather's voice to her, and with it the scent of the heather, and thevery sight of Arthur's Seat or the hills of Perth. Elleen had somesudden qualms of heart lest her sister's blitheness should be coveringwounds within; but she was too young to be often haunted by suchthoughts in the delightful surroundings in which that Easter week wasspent--the companionship of their sister and of the two young Infantasof Anjou, as well as all the charm of King Rene's graceful attention. Eleanor had opened to her fresh stores of beauty, exquisiteilluminations, books of all kinds--legend, history, romance, poetry--allfreely displayed to her by her royal host, who took an elderly man'sdelight in an intelligent girl; nor, perhaps, was the pleasure lessenedby the need of explaining to Archduke Sigismund, in German everimproving, that which he could not understand. There was a delightfulfreedom about the Court--not hard, rugged, always on the defence, likethat of Scotland; nor stiffly ecclesiastical, as had been that of Henryof Windsor; but though there was devotion every morning, there was forthe rest of the day holiday-making according to each one's taste--nothawking, for the 'bon roi Rene' was merciful to the birds in nestingtime, for which he was grumbled and laughed at by the young nobles, andit may be feared by Jean, who wanted to exhibit Skywing's prowess;but there was riding at the ring, and jousting, or long rides in theenvirons, minstrelsy in the gardens, and once a graceful ballet of theKing's own composition; and the evenings, sometimes in-doors, sometimesout-of-doors, were given to song and music. Altogether it was a land ofenchantment to most, whether gaily or poetically inclined. 

Only there were certain murmurs by the rugged Scots and fierce Gasconsamong the guests. George observed to David Drummond that he felt as ifthis was a nest of eider-ducks, all down and fluff. Davie responded thatit was like a pasteboard town in a mystery play, and that he longed tostrike at it with his good broadsword. The English squire who stoodby, in his turn compared it to a castle of flummery and blanc-manger. A French captain of a full company declared that he wished he had theplundering of it; and a fierce-looking mountaineer of the Vosges ofAlsace growled that if the harping old King of Nowhere flouted hismaster, Duke Sigismund, maybe they should have a taste of plunder. 

There was actually to be a tournament on the Monday, the day before thewedding, and a first tournament was a prodigious event in the life of ayoung lady. Jean was in the utmost excitement, and never looked ather own pretty face of roses and lilies in the steel mirror withoutcomparing it with those of the two Infantas in the hope of being chosenQueen of Beauty; but, to her great disappointment, King Rene prudentlyordained that there should be no such competition, but that the prizesshould be bestowed by his sister, the Queen of France. 

The Marquess of Suffolk requested Sir Patrick to convey to young Douglasa free offer of fitting him out for the encounter, with armour and horseif needful, and even of conferring knighthood on him, so that he mighttake his place on equal terms in the lists. 

'He would like to do it, the insolent loon!' was Geordie's grim comment. 'Will De la Pole dare to talk of dubbing the Red Douglas! When I bidehis buffet, it shall be in another sort. When I take knighthood, itshall be from my lawful King or my father. '

'So I shall tell him, ' replied Sir Patrick, 'and I deem you wise, forthere be tricks of French chivalry that a man needs to know ere he canacquit himself well in the lists; and to see you fail would scarce raiseyou in the eyes of your lady. '

'More like they would find too much earnest in the midst of their sham?'returned Geordie. 'You had best tell your English Marquis, as he callshimself, that he had better not trust a lance in a Scotsman hand, if hewouldna have all the shams that fret me beyond my patience about theirears. '

This was not exactly what Sir Patrick told the Marquis; though he wasfar from disapproving of the resolution. He kept an eye on this strangefollower, and was glad to see that there was no evil or licence in hisconduct, but that he chiefly consorted with David and a few otheryoung squires to whom this week, so delightful to the ladies, wasinexpressibly wearisome. 

Tournaments have been described, so far as the nineteenth centurycan describe them, so often that no one wishes to hear more of theirdetails. These had nearly reached their culmination in the middle ofthe fifteenth century. Defensive armour had become highly ornamental andvery cumbrous, so that it was scarcely possible for the champions todo one another much harm, except that a fall under such a weightwas dangerous. Thus it was only an exercise of skill in arms andhorsemanship on which the ladies gazed as they sat in the galleryaround Queen Marie, the five young princesses together forming, as theminstrels declared, a perfect wreath of loveliness. The Dauphiness, witha flush on her cheek and an eager look on her face, her tall form, anddress more carefully arranged than usual, looked well and princely;Eleanor, very like her, but much developed in expression and improvedin looks since she left home, and a beauty of her own; but the palm laybetween the other three--Yolande, tall, grave, stately, and anxious, with darker blue eyes and brown hair than her sister, who, with herinnocent childish face, showing something of the shyness of a bride, satsomewhat back, as if to conceal herself between Yolande and Jean, whowas all excitement, her cheeks flushed, and her sunny hair seeming toglow with a radiance of its own. Duke Sigismund was among the defenders, in a very splendid suit of armour, made in Italy, and embossed in thatnew taste of the Cinquecento that was fast coming in. 

The two kings began with an amicable joust, in which Rene had the bestof it. Then they took their seats, and as usual there was a good dealof riding one against the other at the lists, and shivering of lances;while some knights were borne backwards, horse and all, others had theirhelmets carried off; but Rene, who sat in great enjoyment, with hisstaff in hand, between his sister and her husband, King Charles, hadtaken care that all the weapons should be blunted. Sigismund, a tall, large, strongly made man, was for some time the leading champion. Perhaps there was an understanding that the Lion of Hapsburg and famedEagle of the Tyrol was to carry all before him and win, in an undoubtedmanner, the prize of the tourney, and the hand of the Infanta Yolande. Certainly the colour rose higher and higher in her delicate cheek, butthose nearest could see that it was not with pleasure, for she bit herlip with annoyance, and her eyes wandered in search of some one. 

Presently, in a pause, there came forward on a tall white horse amagnificently tall man, in plain but bright armour, three allerions orbeakless eagles on his breast, and on his shield a violet plant, withthe motto, Si douce est la violette. The Dauphiness leant across hersister and squeezed Yolande's hand vehemently, as the knight inclinedhis lance to the King, and was understood to crave permission to showhis prowess. Charles turned to Rene, whose good-humoured face lookedannoyed, but who could not withhold his consent. The Dauphiness, whosevehement excitement was more visible than even Yolande's, whispered toEleanor that this was Messire Ferry de Vaudemont, her true love, come towin her at point of the lance. 

History is the parent of romance, and romance now and then becomeshistory. It is an absolute and undoubted fact that Count Frederic orFerry de Vaudemont, the male representative of the line of Charles theGreat, did win his lady-love, Yolande of Anjou, by his good lance withinthe lists, and that thus the direct descent was brought eventually backto Lorraine, though this was not contemplated at the time, since Yolandehad then living both a brother and a nephew, and it was simply for herown sake that Messire Ferry, in all the strength and beauty thatdescended to the noted house of Guise, was now bearing down all beforehim, touching shield after shield, only to gain the better of theirowners in the encounter. Yolande sat with a deep colour in her cheeks, and her hands clasped rigidly together without a movement, while theLorrainer spectators, with a strong suspicion who the Knight of theViolet really was, and with a leaning to their own line, loudlyapplauded each victory. 

King Rene, long ago, had had to fight for his wife's inheritance withthis young man's father, who, supported by the strength of Burgundy, haddefeated and made him prisoner, so that he was naturally disinclined tothe match, and would have preferred the Hapsburg Duke, whose Alsatianpossessions were only divided from his own by the Vosges; but hisgenerous and romantic spirit could not choose but be gained by theproceeding of Count Ferry, and the mute appeal in the face and attitudeof his much-loved daughter. 

He could not help joining in the applause at the grace and ease of theyoung knight, till by and by all interest became concentrated on thelast critical encounter with Sigismund. 

Every one watched almost breathlessly as the big heavy Austrian, mountedon a fresh horse, and the slim Lorrainer in armour less strong but lessweighty, had their meeting. Two courses were run with mere splinteringof lance; at the third, while Rene held his staff ready to throw ifsigns of fighting _a l'outrance_ appeared, Ferry lifted his lance alittle, and when both steeds recoiled from the clash, the azure eagle ofthe Tyrol was impaled on the point of his lance, and Sigismund, thoughnot losing his saddle, was bending low on it, half stunned by the forceof the blow. Down went Rene's warder. Loud were the shouts, 'Vive theKnight of the Violet! Victory to the Allerions!'

The voice of Rene was as clear and exulting as the rest, as the heralds, with blast of trumpet, proclaimed the Chevalier de la Violette thevictor of the day, and then came forward to lead him to the feet of theQueen of France. His helmet was removed, and at the face of manly beautythat it revealed, the applause was renewed; but as Marie held out theprize, a splendidly hilted sword, he bowed low, and said, 'Madame, oneboon alone do I ask for my guerdon. ' And withal, he laid the blue eagleon his lance at the feet of Yolande. 

Rene was not the father to withstand such an appeal. He leapt from hischair of state, he hurried to Yolande in her gallery, took her by thehand, and in another moment Ferry had sprung from his horse, and on thesteps knight and lady, in their youthful glory and grace, stood handin hand, all blushes and bliss, amid the ecstatic applause of themultitude, while the Dauphiness shed tears of joy. Thus brilliantlyended the first tournament witnessed by the Scottish princesses. Eleanorhad been most interested on the whole in Duke Sigismund, and had exultedin his successes, and been sorry to see him defeated, but then she knewthat Yolande dreaded his victory, and she suspected that he did notgreatly care for Yolande, so that, since he was not hurt, and wascertainly the second in the field, she could look on with complacency. 

Moreover, at the evening's dance, when Margaret and Suffolk, Ferryand Yolande stood up for a stately pavise together, Sigismund came toEleanor, and while she was thinking whether or not to condole withhim, he shyly mumbled something about not regretting--being free--theDauphin, her brother, enduring a beaten knight. It was all in a mixtureof French and German, mostly of the latter, and far less comprehensiblethan usual, unless, indeed, maidenly shyness made her afraid tounderstand or to seem to do so. He kept on standing by her, bothof them, mute and embarrassed, not quite unconscious that they wereobserved, perhaps secretly derided by some of the lookers-on. The firstrelief was when the Dauphiness came and sat down by her sister, andbegan to talk fast in French, scarce heeding whether the Duke understoodor answered her. 

One question he asked was, who was the red-faced young man with stubblysunburnt hair, and a scar on his cheek, who had appeared in the lists invery gaudy but ill-fitting armour, and with a great raw-boned, snortinghorse, and now stood in a corner of the hall with his eyes steadilyfixed on the Lady Joanna. 

'So!' said Sigismund. 'That fellow is the Baron Rudiger von BatchburgDer Schelm! How has he the face to show himself here?'

'Is he one of your Borderers--your robber Castellanes?' asked Margaret. 

'Even so! His father's castle of Balchenburg is so cunningly placed onthe march between Elsass and Lothringen that neither our good host norI can fully claim it, and these rogues shelter themselves behind oneor other of us till it is, what they call in Germany a Rat Castle, therefuge of all the ecorcheurs and routiers of this part of the country. They will bring us both down on them one of these days, but the place iswell-nigh past scaling by any save a gemsbock or an ecorcheur!'

Jean herself had remarked the gaze of the Alsatian mountaineer. It wasthe chief homage that her beauty had received, and she was somewhatmortified at being only viewed as part of the constellation of royaltyand beauty doing honour to the Infantas. She believed, too, that if G he could have brought her out in as effective and romantic a light asthat in which Yolande had appeared, and she was in some of her moodshurt and angered with him for refraining, while in others she supposedsometimes that he was too awkward thus to venture himself, and at othersshe did him the justice of believing that he disdained to appear inborrowed plumes. 

The wedding was by no means so splendid an affair as the tournament, as, indeed, it was merely a marriage by proxy, and Yolande and her Count ofVaudemont were too near of kin to be married before a dispensation couldbe procured. 

The King and Queen of France would leave Nanci to see the bride partlyon her way. The Dauphin and his wife were to tarry a day or two behind, and the princesses belonged to their Court. Sir Patrick had fulfilledhis charge of conducting them to their sister, and he had now to availhimself of the protection of the King's party as far as possible onthe way to Paris, where he would place Malcolm at the University, andlikewise meet his daughter's bridegroom and his father. 

Dame Lilias did not by any means like leaving her young cousins, so longher charge, without attendants of their own; but the Dauphinessgave them a tirewoman of her own, and undertook that Madame de Ste. Petronelle should attend them in case of need, as well as that she wouldendeavour to have Annis, when Madame de Terreforte, at her Court aslong as they were there. They also had a squire as equerry, and GeorgeDouglas was bent on continuing in that capacity till his outfit from hisfather arrived, as it was sure to do sooner or later. 

Margaret knew who he was, and promised Sir Patrick to do all in herpower for him, as truly his patience and forbearance well deserved. 

It was a very sorrowful parting between the two maidens and the Lady ofGlenuskie, who for more than half a year had been as a mother to them, nay, more than their own mother had ever been; and bad done much tomitigate the sharp angles of their neglected girlhood by her influence. In a very few months more she would see James, and Mary, and the'weans'; and the three sisters loaded her with gifts, letters, andmessages for all. Eleanor promised never to forget her counsel, andto strive not to let the bright new world drive away all those devoutfeelings and hopes that Mother Clare and King Henry had inspired, andthat Lady Drummond had done her best to keep up. 

Duke Sigismund had communicated to Sir Patrick his intention of making aformal request to King James for the hand of the Lady Eleanor. He wasto find an envoy to make his proposal in due form, who would join SirPatrick at Terreforte after the wedding was over, so as to go with theparty to Scotland. 

Meantime, with many fond embraces and tears, Lady Drummond took leaveof her princesses, and they owned themselves to feel as if a protectingwall had been taken away in her and her husband. 

'It is folly, though, thus to speak, ' said Jean, 'when we have oursister, and her husband, and his father, and all his Court to protectus. '

'We ought to be happy, ' said Eleanor gravely. 'Outside here at Nanci, it is all that my fancy ever shaped, and yet--and yet there is a strangesense of fear beyond. '

'Oh, talk not that gate, ' cried Jean, 'as thou wilt be having thygruesome visions!'

'No; it is not of that sort, ' returned Eleanor. 'I trow not! It may berather the feeling of the vanity of all this world's show. '

'Oh, for mercy's sake, dinna let us have clavers of that sort, or weshall have thee in yon nunnery!' exclaimed Jean. 'See this girdle ofMaggie's, which she has given me. Must I not make another hole to drawit up enough for my waist?'

'Jean herself was much disappointed when Margaret, with great regret, told her that the Dauphin had to go out of his way to visit some castleson his way to Chalons sur Marne, and that he could not encumber hishosts with so large a train as the presence of two royal ladies renderedneedful. They were, therefore, to travel by another route, leadingthrough towns where there were hostels. Madame de Ste. Petronelle was togo with them, and an escort of trusty Scots archers, and all would meetagain in a fortnight's time. 

All sounded simple and easy, and Margaret repeated, 'It will be a troopquite large enough to defend you from all ecorcheurs; indeed, they darenot come near our Scottish archers, whom Messire, my husband, has toldoff for your escort. And you will have your own squire, ' she added, looking at Jean. 

'That's as he lists, ' said Jean scornfully. 

'Ah, Jeanie, Jeanie, thou mayst have to rue it if thou turn'st lightlyfrom a leal heart. '

'I'm not damsel-errant of romance, as thou and Elleen would fain be, 'said Jean. 

'Nay, ' said Margaret, 'love is not mere romance. And oh, sister, creditme, a Scots lassie's heart craves better food than crowns and coronets. Hard and unco' cold be they, where there is no warmth to meet theyearning soul beneath, that would give all and ten times more for oneglint of a loving eye, one word from a tender lip. ' Again she had one ofthose hysteric bursts of tears, but she laughed herself back, crying, 'But what is the treason wifie saying of her gudeman--her Louis, thatnever yet said a rough word to his Meg?'

Then came another laugh, but she gathered herself up at a summons tocome down and mount. 

She was tenderly embraced by all, King Rene kissing her and calling herhis dear niece and princess of minstrelsy, who should come to him atToulouse and bestow the golden violet. 

She rode away, looking back smiling and kissing her hand, but Eleanor'seyes grew wide and her cheeks pale. 

'Jean, ' she murmured, low and hoarsely, 'Margaret's shroud is up to herthroat. '

'Hoots with thy clavers, ' exclaimed Jeanie in return. 'I never let theesing that fule song, but Meg's fancies have brought the megrims intothine head! Thou and she are pair. '

'That we shall be nae longer, ' sighed Eleanor. 'I saw the shroud asclear as I see yon cross on the spire. '

CHAPTER 8. STINGS

 'Yet one asylum is my own, Against the dreaded hour; A long, a silent, and a lone, Where kings have little power. '--SCOTT. 

At Chalons, the Sieur de Terreforte and his son Olivier, a veryquiet, stiff, and well-trained youth, met Sir Patrick and the Lady ofGlenuskie. Terreforte was within the province of Champagne, and aslong as the Court remained at Chalons the Sieur felt bound to remain inattendance on the King--lodging at his own house, or hotel, as he calledit, in the city. Dame Lilias did not regret anything which gave her alittle more time with her daughter, and enabled Annis to make a littlemore acquaintance with her bridegroom and his family before beingleft alone with them. Moreover, she hoped to see something more of hercousins the princesses. 

But they came not. The Dauphin and his wife arrived from their excursionand took up their abode in the Castle of Surry le Chateau, at a shortdistance from thence and thither went the Lady of Glenuskie with herhusband to pay her respects, and present the betrothed of her daughter. 

Margaret was sitting in a shady nook of the walls, under the shade of atall, massive tower, with a page reading to her, but in that impulsivemanner which the Court of France thought grossiere and sauvage; sheran down the stone stairs and threw herself on the neck of her cousin, exclaiming, however, 'But where are my sisters?'

'Are they not with your Grace? I thought to find them here!'

'Nay! They were to start two days after us, with an escort of archers, while we visited the shrine of St. Menehould. They might have been herebefore us, ' exclaimed Margaret, in much alarm. 'My husband thought ourtrain would be too large if they went with us. '

'If we had known that they were not to be with your Grace, we would havetarried for them, ' said Dame Lilias. 

'Oh, cousin, would that you bad!'

'Mayhap King Rene and his daughter persuaded them to wait a few days. '

That was the best hope, but there was much uneasiness when another daypassed and the Scottish princesses did not appear. Strange whispers, coming from no one knew where, began to be current that they haddisappeared in company with some of those wild and gay knights who hadmet at the tournament at Nanci. 

In extreme alarm and indignation, Margaret repaired to her husband. He was kneeling before the shrine of the Lady in the Chapel of Surry, telling his beads, and he did not stir, or look round, or relax onemurmur of his Aves, while she paced about, wrung her hands, and vainlytried to control her agitation. At last he rose, and coldly said, 'Iknew it could be no other who thus interrupted my devotions. '

'My sisters!' she gasped. 

'Well, what of them?'

'Do you know what wicked things are said of them--the dear maids?Ah!'--as she saw his strange smile--'you have heard! You will silencethe fellows, who deserve to have their tongues torn out for defaming aking's daughters. '

'Verily, ma mie, ' said Louis, 'I see no such great improbability in thetale. They have been bred up to the like, no doubt a mountain kite ofthe Vosges is a more congenial companion than a chevalier bien courtois. '

'You speak thus simply to tease your poor Margot, ' she said, pleadingyet trembling; 'but I know better than to think you mean it. '

'As my lady pleases, ' he said. 

'Then will I send Sir Patrick with an escort to seek them at Nanci andbring them hither?'

'Where is this same troop to come from?' demanded Louis. 

'Our own Scottish archers, who will see no harm befall my blessedfather's daughters. '

'Ha! say you so? I had heard a different story from Buchan, from theGrahams, the Halls. Revenge is sweet--as your mother found it. '

'The murderers had only their deserts. '

Louis shrugged his shoulders, 'That is as their sons may think. '

'No one would be so dastardly as to wreak vengeance on two younghelpless maids, ' cried Margaret. 'Oh! sir, help me; what think you?'

'Madame knows better than I do the spirit alike of her sisters and ofher own countrymen. '

'Nay, nay, Monsieur, husband, do but help me! My poor sisters in thisstrange land! You, who are wiser than all, tell me what can have becomeof them?'

'What can I say, Madame? Love--love of the minstrel kind seems to runin the family. You all have supped full thereof at Nanci. If report saidtrue, there was a secret lover in their suite. What so likely as thatthe May game should have become earnest?'

'But, sir, we are accountable. My sisters were entrusted to us. '

'Not to me, ' said Louis. 'If the boy, your brother, expected me tofind husbands and dowers for a couple of wild, penniless, feather-pateddamsels-errant, he expected far too much. I know far too well what areScotch manners and ideas of decorum to charge myself with the like. '

'Sir, do you mean to insult me?' demanded Margaret, rising to the fullheight of her tall stature. 

'That is as Madame may choose to fit the cap, ' he said, with a bow; 'Iaccuse her of nothing, ' but there was an ironical smile on his thin lipswhich almost maddened her. 

'Speak out; oh, sir, tell me what you dare to mean!' she said, with astamp of her foot, clasping her hands tightly. He only bowed again. 

'I know there are evil tongues abroad, ' said Margaret, with a desperateeffort to command her voice; 'but I heeded them no more than the midgesin the air while I knew my lord and husband heeded them not! But--oh!say you do not. '

'Have I said that I did?'

'Then for a proof--dismiss and silence that foul-slandering wretch, Jamet de Tillay. '

'A true woman's imagination that to dismiss is to silence, ' he laughed. 

'It would show at least that you will not brook to have your wifedefamed! Oh! sir, sir, ' she cried, 'I only ask what any other husbandwould have done long ago of his own accord and rightful anger. Smile notthus--or you will see me frenzied. '

'Smiles best befit woman's tears, ' said Louis coolly. 'One moment foryour sisters, the next for yourself. '

'Ah! my sisters! my sisters! Wretch that I am, to have thought ofmy worthless self for one moment. Ah! you are only teasing your poorMargot! You will act for your own honour and theirs in sending out toseek them!'

'My honour and theirs may be best served by their being forgotten. '

Margaret became inarticulate with dismay, indignation, disappointment, as these envenomed stings went to her very soul, further pointed by thecurl of Louis's thin lips and the sinister twinkle of his little eyes. Almost choked, she stammered forth the demand what he meant, only tobe answered that he did not pretend to understand the Scottish errantnature, and pointing to a priest entering the church, he bade her notmake herself conspicuous, and strolled away. 

Margaret's despair and agony were inexpressible. She stood for someminutes leaning against a pillar to collect her senses. Then her firstthought was of consulting the Drummonds, and she impetuously dashedback to her own apartments and ordered her palfrey and suite to be readyinstantly to take her to Chalons. 

Madame la Dauphine's palfreys were all gone to Ghalons to be shod. In fact, there were some games going on there, and trusting to theeasy-going habits of their mistress, almost all her attendants hadlounged off thither, even the maidens, as well as the pages, who feltMadame de Ste. Petronelle's sharp eyes no longer over them. 

'Tell me, ' said Margaret, to the one lame, frightened old man who aloneseemed able to reply to her call, 'do you know who commanded the escortwhich were with my sisters, the Princesses of Scotland?'

The old man threw up his hands. How should he know? 'The escort was ofthe savage Scottish archers. '

'I know that; but can you not tell who they were--nor their commander?'

'Ah! Madame knows that their names are such as no Christian ears canunderstand, nor lips speak!'

'I had thought it was the Sire Andrew Gordon who was to go with them. Hewith the blue housings on the dapple grey. '

'No, Madame; I heard the Captain Mercour say Monsieur le Dauphinhad other orders for him. It was the little dark one--how call theyhim?--ah! with a more reasonable name--Le Halle, who led the party ofMesdames. Madame! Madame! let me call some of Madame's women!'

'No, no, ' gasped Margaret, knowing indeed that none whom she wished tosee were within call. 'Thanks, Jean, here--now go, ' and she flung him acoin. 

She knew now that whatever had befallen her sisters had been by theconnivance if not the contrivance of her husband, unwilling to have thecharge and the portioning of the two penniless maidens imposed upon him. And what might not that fate be, betrayed into the hands of one who hadso deadly a blood-feud with their parents! For Hall was the son of oneof the men whose daggers had slain James I. , and whose crime had beenvisited with such vindictive cruelty by Queen Joanna. The man's eyeshad often scowled at her, as if he longed for vengeance--and thus had itbeen granted him. 

Margaret, with understanding to appreciate Louis's extraordinaryability, had idolised him throughout in spite of his constant coldnessand the satire with which he treated all her higher tastes andaspirations, continually throwing her in and back upon herself, andblighting her instincts wherever they turned. She had accepted all thisas his superiority to her folly, and though the thwarted and unfosteredinclinations in her strong unstained nature had occasioned thoseaberrations and distorted impulses which brought blame on her, she hadaccepted everything hitherto as her own fault, and believed in, andadored the image she had made of him throughout. Now it was as if heridol had turned suddenly into a viper in her bosom, not only stingingher by implied acquiescence in the slanders upon her discretion, if notupon her fair fame, but actually having betrayed her innocent sisters bymeans of the deadly enemy of their family--to what fate she knew not. 

To act became an immediate need to the unhappy Dauphiness at once, asthe only vent to her own misery, and because she must without loss oftime do something for the succour of her young sisters, or ascertaintheir fate. 

She did not spend a moment's thought on the censure any imprudentmeasure of her own might bring on her, but hastily summoning the onlytirewoman within reach, she exchanged her blue and gold embroidered robefor a dark serge which she wore on days of penance, with a mantle andhood of the same, and, to Linette's horror and dismay, bade her attendher on foot to the Hotel de Terreforte, in Chalons. 

Linette was in no position to remonstrate, but could only follow, as thelady, wrapped in her cloak, descended the steps, and crossed the emptyhall. The porter let her pass unquestioned, but there were a few guardsat the great gateway, and one shouted, 'Whither away, pretty Linette?'

Margaret raised her hood and looked full at him, and he fell back. Heknew her, and knew that Madame la Dauphine did strange things. The roadwas stony and bare and treeless, unfrequented at first, and it was verysultry, the sun shining with a heavy melting heat on Margaret's weightygarments; but she hurried on, never feeling the heat, or hearingLinette's endeavours to draw her attention to the heavy bank of grayclouds tinged with lurid red gradually rising, and whence threateninggrowls of thunder were heard from time to time. She really seemed torush forward, and poor, panting Linette toiled after her, feeling readyto drop, while the way was as yet unobstructed, as the two beautifulsteeples of the Cathedral and Notre Dame de l'Epine rose before them;but after a time, as they drew nearer, the road became obstructed bycarts, waggons, donkeys, crowded with country-folks and their wares, with friars and ragged beggars, all pressing into the town, and jostlingone another and the two foot-passengers all the more as rain-drops beganto fall, and the thunder sounded nearer. 

Margaret had been used to walking, but it was all within parks andpleasances, and she was not at all used to being pushed about andjostled. Linette knew how to make her way far better, and it was wellfor them that their dark dresses and hoods and Linette's elderly facegave the idea of their being votaresses of some sacred order, and sosecured them from actual personal insult; but as they clung togetherthey were thrust aside and pushed about, while the throng grew thicker, the streets narrower, the storm heavier, the air more stifling andunsavoury. 

A sudden rush nearly knocked them down, driving them under a gargoyle, whose spout was streaming with wet, and completed the drenching; butthere was a porch and an open door of a church close behind, and intothis Linette dragged her mistress. Dripping, breathless, bruised, sheleant against a pillar, not going forward, for others, much more gailydressed, had taken refuge there, and were chattering away, for littlereverence was paid at that date to the sanctity of buildings. 

'Will the King be there, think you?' eagerly asked a young girl, who hadbeen anxiously wiping the wet from her pink kirtle. 

'Certes--he is to give the prizes, ' replied a portly dame in crimson. 

'And the Lady of Beauty? I long to see her. '

'Her beauty is passing--except that which was better worth the solidcastle the King gave her, ' laughed the stout citizen, who seemed to bein charge of them. 

'The Dauphiness, too--will she be there?'

'Ah, the Dauphiness!' said the elder woman, with a meaning sound andshake of the head. 

'Scandal--evil tongues!' growled the man. 

'Nay, Master Jerome, there's no denying it, for a merchant of Bourgestold me. She runs about the country on foot, like no discreet woman, letalone a princess, with a good-for-nothing minstrel after her. Ah, youmay grunt and make signs, but I had it from the Countess de Craylierre'sown tirewoman, who came for a bit of lace, that the Dauphin is about to the Sire Jamet de Tillay caught her kissing the minstrel on a bench inthe garden at Nanci. '

'I would not trust the Sire de Tillay's word. He is in debt to everymerchant of the place--a smooth-tongued deceiver. Belike he is bribedto defame the poor lady, that the Dauphin may rid himself of a childlesswife. '

The young girl was growing restless, declaring that the rain was over, and that they should miss the getting good places at the show. Margarethad stood all this time leaning against her pillar, with hands clenchedtogether and teeth firm set, trying to control the shuddering ofhorror and indignation that went through her whole frame. She startedconvulsively when Linette moved after the burgher, but put a force uponherself when she perceived that it was in order to inquire how best toreach the Hotel de Terreforte. 

He pointed to the opposite door of the church, and Linette, reconnoitring and finding that it led into a street entirely quiet anddeserted, went back to the Dauphiness, whom she found sunk on her knees, stiff and dazed. 

'Come, Madame, ' she entreated, trying to raise her, 'the Hotel deTerreforte is near, these houses shelter us, and the rain is nearlyover. '

Margaret did not move at first; then she looked up and said, 'What wasit that they said, Linette?'

'Oh! no matter what they said, Madame; they were ignorant creatures, who knew not what they were talking about. Come, you are wet, you areexhausted. This good lady will know how to help you. '

'There is no help in man, ' said Margaret, wildly stretching out herarms. 'Oh, God! help me--a desolate woman--and my sisters! Betrayed!betrayed!'

Very much alarmed, Linette at last succeeded in raising her to her feet, and guiding her, half-blinded as she seemed, to the portal of the Hotelde Terreforte--an archway leading into a courtyard. It was by great goodfortune that the very first person who stood within it was old Andrewof the Cleugh, who despised all French sports in comparison with thecompleteness of his master's equipment, and was standing at the gate, about to issue forth in quest of leather to mend a defective strap. Hiseyes fell on the forlorn wanderer, who had no longer energy to keep herhood forward. 'My certie! he exclaimed, in utter amaze. 

The Scottish words and voice seemed to revive Margaret, and she totteredforward, exclaiming, 'Oh! good man, help me! take me to the Lady. '

Fortunately the Lady of Glenuskie, being much busied in preparations forher journey, had sent Annis to the sports with the Lady of Terreforte, and was ready to receive the poor, drenched, exhausted being, who almoststumbled into her motherly arms, weeping bitterly, and incoherentlymoaning something about her sisters, and her husband, and 'betrayed. '

Old Christie was happily also at home, and dry clothing, a warm posset, and the Lady's own bed, perhaps still more her soothing caresses, brought Margaret back to the power of explaining her distressintelligibly--at least as regarded her sisters. She had discovered thattheir escort had been that bitter foe of their house, Robert Hall, andshe verily believed that he had betrayed her sisters into the hands ofsome of the routiers who infested the roads. 

Dame Lilias could not but think it only too likely; but she said 'theworst that could well befall the poor lassies in that case would betheir detention until a ransom was paid, and if their situation wasknown, the King, the Dauphin, and the Duke of Brittany would be certainone or other to rescue them by force of arms, if not to raise themoney. ' She saw how Margaret shuddered at the name of the Dauphin. 

'Oh! I have jewels--pearls--gold, ' cried Margaret. 'I could pay the sumwithout asking any one! Only, where are they, where are they? What arethey not enduring--the dear maidens! Would that I had never let them outof my sight!'

'Would that I had not!' echoed Dame Lilias. 'But cheer up, dear Lady, Madame de Ste. Petronelle is with them and will watch over them; andshe knows the ways of the country, and how to deal with these robbers, whoever they may be. She will have a care of them. '

But though the Lady of Glenuskie tried to cheer the unhappy princess, she was full of consternation and misgivings as to the fate of heryoung cousins, whom she loved heartily, and she was relieved when, inaccordance with the summons that she had sent, her husband's spurs wereheard ringing on the stair. 

He heard the story with alarm. He knew that Sir Andrew Gordon had beentold off to lead the convoy, and had even conversed with him on thesubject. 

'Who exchanged him for Hall?' he inquired. 

'Oh, do not ask, ' cried the unhappy Margaret, covering her face withher hands, and the shrewder Scots folk began to understand, as glancespassed between them, though they spared her. 

She had intended throwing herself at the feet of the King, who had neverbeen unkind to her, and imploring his succour; but Sir Patrick broughtword that the King and Dauphin were going forth together to visit theAbbot of a shrine at no great distance, and as soon as she heard thatthe Dauphin was with his father, she shrank together, and gave up herpurpose for the present. Indeed, Sir Patrick thought it advisable forhim to endeavour to discover what had really become of the princessesbefore applying to the King, or making their loss public. Nor was theDauphiness in a condition to repair to Court. Dame Lilias longed tokeep her and nurse and comfort her that evening; but while the spitefulwhispers of De Tillay were abroad, it was needful to be doubly prudent, and the morning's escapade must if possible be compensated by a publicreturn to Chateau le Surry. So Margaret was placed on Lady Drummond'spalfrey, and accompanied home by all the attendants who could be gottogether. She could hardly sit upright by the time the short ride wasover, for pain in the side and stitch in her breath. Again Lady Drummondwould have stayed with her, but the Countess de Craylierre, who had beenextremely offended and scandalised by the expedition of the Dauphiness, made her understand that no one could remain there except by theinvitation of the Dauphin, and showed great displeasure at any one butherself attempting the care of Madame la Dauphine, who, as all knew, wassubject to megrims. 

Margaret entreated her belle cousine to return in the morning and tellher what had been done, and Dame Lilias accordingly set forth with Annisimmediately after mass and breakfast with the news that Sir Patrickhad taken counsel with the Sieur de erreforte, and that they had gottogether such armed attendants as they could, and started with theirsons for Nanci, where they hoped to discover some traces of the lostladies. 

Indeed, he had brought his wife on his way, and was waiting in the courtin case the Princess should wish to see him before he went; but Liliasfound poor Margaret far too ill for this to be of any avail. She hadtossed about all night, and now was lying partly raised on a pile ofembroidered, gold-edged pillows, under an enormous, stiff, heavy quilt, gorgeous with heraldic colours and devices, her pale cheeks flushed withfever, her breath catching painfully, and with a terrible short cough, murmuring strange words about her sisters, and about cruel tongues. Acrowd of both sexes and all ranks filled the room, gazing and listening. 

She knew her cousin at her entrance, clasped her hand tight, and seemedto welcome her native tongue, and understand her assurance that SirPatrick was gone to seek her sisters; but she wandered off into, 'Don'tlet him ask Jamet. Ah, Katie Douglas, keep the door! They are coming. '

Her husband, returning from the morning mass, had way made for him as headvanced to the bed, and again her understanding partly returned, as hesaid in his low, dry voice, 'How now, Madame?'

She looked up at him, held out her hot hand, and gasped, 'Oh, sir, sir, where are they?'

'Be more explicit, ma mie, ' he said, with an inscrutable face. 

'You know, you know. Oh, husband, my Lord, you do not believe it. Sayyou do not believe it. Send the whispering fiend away. He has hidden mysisters. '

'She raves, ' said Louis. 'Has the chirurgeon been with her?'

'He is even now about to bleed her, my Lord, ' said Madame de Craylierre, 'and so I have sent for the King's own physician. '

Louis's barber-surgeon (not yet Olivier le Dain) was a little, crookedold Jew, at sight of whom Margaret screamed as if she took him for thewhispering fiend. He would fain have cleared the room and relieved theair, but this was quite beyond his power; the ladies, knights, pages andall chose to remain and look on at the struggles of the poor patient, while Madame de Craylierre and Lady Drummond held her fast and forcedher to submit. Her husband, who alone could have prevailed, did not orwould not speak the word, but shrugged his shoulders and left the room, carrying off with him at least his own attendants. 

When she saw her blood flow, Margaret exclaimed, 'Ah, traitors, take meinstead of my father--only--a priest. '

Presently she fainted, and after partly reviving, seemed to doze, andthis, being less interesting, caused many of the spectators to depart. 

When she awoke she was quite herself, and this was well, for the Kingcame to visit her. Margaret was fond of her father-in-law, who hadalways been kind to her; but she was too ill, and speech hurt her toomuch, to allow her to utter clearly all that oppressed her. 

'My sisters! my poor sisters!' she moaned. 

'Ah! ma belle fille, fear not. All will be well with them. No doubt, mygood brother Rene has detained them, that Madame Eleanore may study alittle more of his music and painting. We will send a courier to Nanci, who will bring good news of them, ' said the King, in a caressing voicewhich soothed, if it did not satisfy, the sufferer. 

She spoke out some thanks, and he added, 'They may come any moment, daughter, and that will cheer your little heart, and make you well. Onlytake courage, child, and here is my good physician, Maitre Bertrand, come to heal you. '

Margaret still held the King's hand, and sought to detain him. 'Beaupere, beau pere, ' she said, 'you will not believe them! You will silencethem. '

'Whom, what, ma mie?'

'The evil-speakers. Ah! Jamet. '

'I believe nothing my fair daughter tells me not to believe. '

'Ah! sire, he speaks against me. He says--'

'Hush! hush, child. Whoever vexes my daughter shall have his tongue slitfor him. But here we must give place to Maitre Bertrand. '

Maitre Bertrand was a fat and stolid personage, who, nevertheless, hada true doctor's squabble with the Jew Samiel and drove him out. Histreatment was to exclude all the air possible, make the patient breatheall sorts of essences, and apply freshly-killed pigeons to the painfulside. 

Margaret did not mend under this method. She begged for Samiel, who hadseveral times before relieved her in slight illnesses; but she was givento understand that the Dauphin would not permit him to interfere withMaitre Bertrand. 

'Ah!' she said to Dame Lilias, in their own language, 'my husband callsBertrand an old fool! He does not wish me to recover! A childless wifeis of no value. He would have me dead! And so would I--if my fame werecleared. If my sisters were found! Oh! my Lord, my Lord, I loved himso!'

Poor Margaret! Such was her cry, whether sane or delirious, hour afterhour, day after day. Only when delirious she rambled into Scotch andtalked of Perth; went over again her father's murder, or fancied hersisters in the hands of some of the ferocious chieftains of the North, and screamed to Sir Patrick or to Geordie Douglas to deliver them. Wherewas all the chivalry of the Bleeding Heart?

Or, again, she would piteously plead her own cause with her husband--notthat he was present, a morning glance into her room sufficed him; butshe would excuse her own eager folly--telling him not to be angered withher, who loved him wholly and entirely, and begging him to silence thewicked tongues that defamed her. 

When sensible she was very weak, and capable of saying very little; butshe clung fast to Lady Drummond, and, Dauphin or no Dauphin, Dame Liliaswas resolved on remaining and watching her day and night, Madame deCraylierre becoming ready to leave the nursing to her when it becamesevere. 

The King came to see his daughter-in-law almost every day, and alwaysspoke to her in the same kindly but unmeaning vein, assuring her thather sisters must be safe, and promising to believe nothing againstherself; but, as the Lady of Glenuskie knew from Olivier de Terreforte, taking no measures either to discover the fate of the princesses or tobanish and silence Jamet de Tillay, though it was all over the Courtthat the Dauphiness was dying for love of Alain Chartier. Was it thathis son prevented him from acting, or was it the strange indifferenceand indolence that always made Charles the Well-Served bestir himselffar too late?

Any way, Margaret of Scotland was brokenhearted, utterly weary of life, and with no heart or spirit to rally from the illness caused by thechill of her hasty walk. She only wished to live long enough to knowthat her sisters were safe, see them again, and send them under safecare to Brittany. She exacted a promise from Dame Lilias never to leavethem again till they were in safe hands, with good husbands, or backin Scotland with their brother and good Archbishop Kennedy. 'Bid Jeanienever despise a true heart; better, far better, than a crown, ' shesighed. 

Louis concerned himself much that all the offices of religion should beprovided. He attended the mass daily celebrated in her room, and causedpriests to pray in the farther end continually. Lady Drummond, who hadnot given up hope, and believed that good tidings of her sisters mightalmost be a cure, thought that he really hurried on the last offices, atwhich he devoutly assisted. However, the confession seemed to have givenMargaret much comfort. She told Dame Lilias that the priest had shownher how to make an offering to God of her sore suffering from slanderand evil report, and reminded her that to endure it patiently wastreading in the steps of her Master. She was resolved, therefore, tomake no further struggle nor complaint, but to trust that her silenceand endurance would be accepted. She could pray for her sisters andtheir safety, and she would endeavour to yield up even that last earthlydesire to be certified of their safety, and to see their bonnie facesonce more. So there she lay, a being formed by nature and intellect tohave been the inspiring helpmeet of some noble-hearted man, the stay ofa kingdom, the education of all around her in all that was beautiful andrefined, but cast away upon one of the most mean and selfish-hearted ofmankind, who only perceived her great qualities to hate and dread theirmanifestation in a woman, to crush them by his contempt; and finally, though he did not originate the cruel slander that broke her heart, he envenomed it by his sneers, so as to deprive her of all power ofresistance. 

The lot of Margaret of Scotland was as piteous as that of any of thedoomed house of Stewart. And there the Lady of Glenuskie and Annisde Terreforte watched her sinking day by day, and still there were notidings of Jean and Eleanor from Nanci, no messenger from Sir Patrick totell where the search was directed. 

CHAPTER 9. BALCHENBURG

 'In these wylde deserts where she now abode There dwelt a salvage nation, which did live On stealth and spoil, and making nightly rade Into their neighbours' borders. '--SPENSER. 

A terrible legacy of the Hundred Years' War, which, indeed, was not yetentirely ended by the Peace of Tours, was the existence of bands of mentrained to nothing but war and rapine, and devoid of any other means ofsubsistence than freebooting on the peasantry or travellers, whence theywere known as routiers--highwaymen, and ecorcheurs--flayers. They werea fearful scourge to France in the early part of the reign of CharlesVII. , as, indeed, they had been at every interval of peace ever sincethe battle of Creci, and they really made a state of warfare preferableto the unhappy provinces, or at least to those where it was not actuallyraging. In a few years more the Dauphin contrived to delude many ofthem into an expedition, where he abandoned them and left them to bemassacred, after which he formed the rest into the nucleus of a standingarmy; but at this time they were the terror of travellers, who onlydurst go about any of the French provinces in well-armed and largeparties. 

The domains of King Rene, whether in Lorraine or Provence, were, however, reckoned as fairly secure, but from the time the little troop, with the princesses among them, had started from Nanci, Madame de Ste. Petronelle became uneasy. She looked up at the sun, which was shiningin her face, more than once, and presently drew the portly mule she wasriding towards George Douglas. 

'Sir, ' she said, 'you are the ladies' squire?'

'I have that honour, Madame. '

'And a Scot?'

'Even so. '

'I ask you, which way you deem that we are riding?'

'Eastward, Madame, if the sun is to be trusted. Mayhap somewhat to thesouth. '

'Yea; and which side lies Chalons?'

This was beyond George's geography. He looked up with open mouth andshook his head. 

'Westward!' said the lady impressively. 'And what's yon in thedistance?'

'Save that this land is as flat as a bannock, I'd have said 'twasmountains. '

'Mountains they are, young man!' said Madame de Ste. Petronelleemphatically--'the hills between Lorraine and Alsace, which we should beleaving behind us. '

'Is there treachery?' asked George, reining up his horse. 'Ken ye who isthe captain of this escort?'

'His name is Hall; he is thick with the Dauphin. Ha! Madame, is he sibto him that aided in the slaughter of Eastern's Eve night?'

'Just, laddie. 'Tis own son to him that Queen Jean made dae sic afearful penance. What are ye doing?'

'I'll run the villain through, and turn back to Nanci while yet there istime, ' said George, his hand on his sword. 

'Hold, ye daft bodie! That would but bring all the lave on ye. There'snothing for it but to go on warily, and maybe at the next halt we mightescape from them. '

But almost while Madame de Ste. Petronelle spoke there was a cry, andfrom a thicket there burst out a band of men in steel headpieces andbuff jerkins, led by two or three horsemen. There was a confused outcryof 'St. Denys! St. Andrew!' on one side, 'Yield!' on the other. Madame'srein was seized, and though she drew her dagger, her hand was caughtbefore she could strike, by a fellow who cried, 'None of that, you oldhag, or it shall be the worse for thee!'

'St. Andrew! St. Andrew!' screamed Eleanor. 'Scots, to the rescue ofyour King's sisters!'

'Douglas--Douglas, help!' cried Jean. But each was surrounded by a swarmof the ruffians; and as George Douglas hastily pushed down some withhis horse, and struck down one or two with his sword, he was felled by amighty blow on the head, and the ecorcheurs thronged over him, dragginghim off his horse, any resistance on the part of the Scottish archers, their escort, they could not tell; they only heard a tumult of shoutsand cries, and found rude hands holding them on their horses anddragging them among the trees. Their screams for help were answered bya gruff voice from a horseman, evidently the leader of the troop. 'Holdthat noise, Lady! No ill is meant to you, but you must come with us. No;screams are useless! There's none to come to you. Stop them, or I must!'

'There is none!' said Madame de Ste. Petronelle's voice in her owntongue; 'best cease to cry, and not fash the loons more. '

The sisters heard, and in her natural tone Eleanor said in French, 'Sir, know you who you are thus treating? The King's daughter--sisters of theDauphiness!'

He laughed. 'Full well, ' he answered, in very German-sounding French. 

'Such usage will bring the vengeance of the King and Dauphin on you. '

He laughed yet more loudly. His face was concealed by his visor, but theill-fitting armour and great roan horse made Jean recognise the knightwhose eyes had dwelt on her so boldly at the tournament, and she addedher voice. 

'Your Duke of the Tirol will punish this. '

'He has enough to do to mind his own business, ' was the answer. 

'Come, fair one, hold your tongue! There's no help for it, and the lesstrouble you give us the better it will be for you. '

'But our squire!' Jean exclaimed, looking about her. 'Where is he?'

Again there was a rude laugh. 

'Showed fight. Disposed of. See there!' and Jean could not but recognisethe great gray horse from the Mearns that George Douglas had alwaysridden. Had she brought the gallant youth to this, and without word orlook to reward his devotion? She gave one low cry, and bowed her head, grieved and sick at heart. While Eleanor, on her side, exclaimed, 'Felon, thou hast slain a nobleman's brave heir! Disgrace toknighthood!'

'Peace, maid, or we will find means to silence thy tongue, ' growled theleader; and Madame de Ste. Petronelle interposed, 'Whisht--whisht, mybairn; dinna anger them. ' For she saw that there was more dispositionto harshness towards Eleanor than towards Jean, whose beauty seemed tocommand a sort of regard. 

Eleanor took the hint. Her eyes filled with tears, and her bosom heavedat the thought of the requital of the devotion of the brave young man, lying in his blood, so far from his father and his home; but she wouldnot have these ruffians see her weep and think it was for herself, and she proudly straightened herself in her saddle and choked down therising sob. 

On, on they went, at first through the wood by a tangled path, then overa wide moor covered with heather, those mountains, which had at firstexcited the old lady's alarm, growing more distinct in front of them;going faster, too, so that the men who held the reins were half running, till the ground began to rise and grow rougher, when, at an order inGerman from the knight, a man leapt on in front of each lady to guideher horse. 

Where were they going? No one deigned to ask except Madame de Ste. Petronelle, and her guard only grunted, 'Nicht verstand, ' or somethingequivalent. 

A thick mass of wood rose before them, a stream coming down from it, andhere there was a halt, the ladies were lifted down, and the party, whonumbered about twelve men, refreshed themselves with the provisions thatthe Infanta Yolande had hospitably furnished for her guests. The knightawkwardly, but not uncivilly, offered a share to his captives, butEleanor would have moved them off with disdain, and Jean sat with herhead in her hands, and would not look up. 

The old lady remonstrated. 'Eat--eat, ' she said. 'We shall need all ourspirit and strength, and there's no good in being weak and spent withfasting. '

Eleanor saw the prudence of this, and accepted the food and wine offeredto her; but Jean seemed unable to swallow anything but a long draught ofwine and water, and scarcely lifted her head from her sister's shoulder. Eleanor held her rosary, and though the words she conned overwere Latin, all her heart was one silent prayer for protection anddeliverance, and commendation of that brave youth's soul to bis Maker. 

The knight kept out of their way, evidently not wishing to beinterrogated, and he seemed to be the only person who could speak Frenchafter a fashion. By and by they were remounted and led across somemarshy ground, where the course of the stream was marked by tall fernsand weeds, then into a wood of beeches, where the sun lighted thedelicate young foliage, while the horses trod easily among the brownfallen leaves. This gave place to another wood of firs, and though thedays were fairly long, here it was rapidly growing dark under the heavybranches, so that the winding path could only have been followed bythose well used to it. As it became steeper and more stony the treesbecame thinner, and against the eastern sky could be seen, dark andthreatening, the turrets of a castle above a steep, smooth-looking, grassy slope, one of the hills, in fact, called from their shape by theFrench, ballons. 

Just then Jean's horse, weary and unused to mountaineering, stumbled. The man at its head was perhaps not attending to it, for the sudden pullhe gave the rein only precipitated the fall. The horse was up again in amoment, but Jean lay still. Her sister and the lady were at her sidein a moment; but when they tried to raise her she cried out, at firstinarticulately, then, 'Oh, my arm!' and on another attempt to lift hershe fainted away. The knight was in the meantime swearing in German atthe man who had been leading her, then asking anxiously in French howit was with the maiden, as she lay with her head on her sister's lap, Madame answered, 'Hurt--much hurt. '

'But not to the death?'

'Who knows? No thanks to you. ' He tendered a flask where only a fewdrops of wine remained, growling something or other about the Schelm;and when Jean's lips had been moistened with it she opened her eyes, butsobbed with pain, and only entreated to be let alone. This, of course, was impossible; but with double consternation Eleanor looked up at what, in the gathering darkness, seemed a perpendicular height. The knightmade them understand that all that could be done was to put thesufferer on horseback and support her there in the climb upwards, andhe proceeded without further parley to lift her up, not entirely withoutheed to her screams and moans, for he emitted such sounds as those withwhich he might have soothed his favourite horse, as he placed her on theback of a stout, little, strong, mountain pony. Eleanor held her there, and he walked at its head. Madame de Ste. Petronelle would fain havekept up on the other side, but she had lost her mountain legs, andcould not have got up at all without the mule on which she was replaced. Eleanor's height enabled her to hold her arm round her sister, and resther head on her shoulder, though how she kept on in the dark, draggedalong as it were blindly up and up, she never could afterwardsrecollect; but at last pine torches came down to meet them, there wasa tumult of voices, a yawning black archway in front, a light or twoflitting about. Jean lay helplessly against her, only groaning now andthen; then, as the arch seemed to swallow them up, Eleanor was aware ofan old man, lame and rugged, who bawled loud and seemed to be thehighly displeased master; of calls for 'Barbe, ' and then of an elderly, homely-looking woman, who would have assisted in taking Jean off thepony but that the knight was already in the act. However, he resignedher to her sister and Madame de Ste. Petronelle, while Barbe led theway, lamp in hand. It was just as well poor Jeanie remained unconsciousor nearly so while she was conveyed up the narrow stairs to a roundchamber, not worse in furnishing than that at Dunbar, though very unliketheir tapestried rooms at Nanci. 

It was well to be able to lay her down at all, and old Barbe was notonly ready and pitying, but spoke French. She had some wine ready, andhad evidently done her best in the brief warning to prepare a bed. Thetone of her words convinced Madame de Ste. Petronelle that at any rateshe was no enemy. So she was permitted to assist in the investigationof the injuries, which proved to be extensive bruises and a dislocatedshoulder. Both had sufficient experience in rough-and-ready surgery, as well as sufficient strength, for them to be able to pull in theshoulder, while Eleanor, white and trembling, stood on one side with thelamp, and a little flaxen-haired girl of twelve years old held bandagesand ran after whatever Barbe asked for. 

This done, and Jean having been arranged as comfortably as might be, Barbe obeyed some peremptory summonses from without, and presently cameback. 

'The seigneur desires to speak with the ladies, ' she said; 'but I havetold him that they cannot leave la pauvrette, and are too much spent tospeak with him to-night. I will bring them supper and they shall rest. '

'We thank you, ' said Madame de Ste. Petronelle, 'Only, de grace, tell uswhere we are, and who this seigneur is, and what he wants with us poorwomen. '

'This is the Castle of Balchenburg, ' was the reply; 'the seigneur is theBaron thereof. For the next'--she shrugged her shoulders--'it must beone of Baron Rudiger's ventures. But I must go and fetch the ladies somesupper. Ah! the demoiselle surely needs it. '

'And some water!' entreated Eleanor. 

'Ah yes, ' she replied; 'Trudchen shall bring some. '

The little girl presently reappeared with a pitcher as heavy asshe could carry. She could not understand French, but looked muchinterested, and very eager and curious as she brought in several of thebundles and mails of the travellers. 

'Thank the saints, ' cried the lady, 'they do not mean to strip us of ourclothes!'

'They have stolen us, and that is enough for them, ' said Eleanor. 

Jean lay apparently too much exhausted to take notice of what was goingon, and they hoped she might sleep, while they moved about quietly. Theroom seemed to be a cell in the hollow of the turret, and there were twoloophole windows, to which Eleanor climbed up, but she could see nothingbut the stars. 'Ah! yonder is the Plough, just as when we looked out atit at Dunbar o'er the sea!' she sighed. 'The only friendly thing I cansee! Ah! but the same God and the saints are with us still!' and sheclasped her rosary's cross as she returned to her sister, who wassighing out an entreaty for water. 

By and by the woman returned, and with her the child. She made a lowreverence as she entered, having evidently been informed of the rank ofher captives. A white napkin was spread over the great chest that servedfor a table--a piece of civilisation such as the Dunbar captivity hadnot known--three beechen bowls and spoons, and a porringer containing anot unsavoury stew of a fowl in broth thickened with meal. They triedto make their patient swallow a little broth, but without much success, though Eleanor in the mountain air had become famished enough to make ahearty meal, and feel more cheered and hopeful after it. Barbe's evidentsympathy and respect were an element of comfort, and when Jean revivedenough to make some inquiry after poor Skywing, and it was translatedinto French, there was an assurance that the hawk was cared for--hopeseven given of its presence. Barbe was not only compassionate, but readyto answer all the questions in her power. She was Burgundian, but herhome having been harried in the wars, her husband had taken service asa man-at-arms with the Baron of Balchenburg, she herself becoming thebower-woman of the Baroness, now dead. Since the death of the good lady, whose influence had been some restraint, everything had become muchrougher and wilder, and the lords of the castle, standing on thefrontier as it did, had become closely connected with the feuds ofGermany as well as the wars in France. The old Baron had been lamed in araid into Burgundy, since which time he had never left home; and Barbe'shusband had been killed, her sons either slain or seeking their fortuneelsewhere, so that nothing was left to her but her little daughterGertrude, for whose sake she earnestly longed to find her way down tomore civilised and godly life; but she was withheld by the difficultiesin the path, and the extreme improbability of finding a maintenanceanywhere else, as well as by a certain affection for her two Barons, and doubts what they would do without her, since the elder was in brokenhealth and the younger had been her nursling. In fact, she was thehighest female authority in the castle, and kept up whatever semblanceof decency or propriety remained since her mistress's death. All thiscame out in the way of grumbling or lamentation, in the satisfaction ofhaving some woman to confide in, though her young master had made heraware of the rank of his captives. Every one, it seemed, had beentaken by surprise. He was in the habit of making expeditions on hisown account, and bringing home sometimes lawless comrades or followers, sometimes booty; but this time, after taking great pains to furbish upa suit of armour brought home long ago, he had set forth to thefestivities at Nanci. The lands and castle were so situated, that theold Baron had done homage for the greater part to Sigismund as Duke ofElsass, and for another portion to King Rene as Duke of Lorraine, aswhose vassal the young Baron had appeared. No more had been heard of himtill one of his men hurried up with tidings that Herr Rudiger had takena bevy of captives, with plenty of spoil, but that one was a lady muchhurt, for whom Barbe must prepare her best. 

Since this, Barbe had learnt from her young master that the injured ladywas the sister of the Dauphiness, and a king's daughter, and that everycare must be taken of her and her sister, for he was madly in love withher, and meant her to be his wife. 

Eleanor and Madame de Ste. Petronelle cried out at this with horror, ina stifled way, as Barbe whispered it. 

'Too high, too dangerous game for him, I know, ' said the old woman. 'Sosaid his father, who was not a little dismayed when he heard who theseladies were. '

'The King, my brother, the Dauphin, the Duke of Brittany--' beganEleanor. 

'Alas! the poor boy would never have ventured it but for encouragement, 'sighed Barbe. 'Treacherous I say it must be!'

'I knew there was treachery, 'exclaimed Madame de Ste. Petronelle, 'sosoon as I found which way our faces were turned. '

'But who could or would betray us?' demanded Eleanor. 

'You need not ask that, when your escort was led by Andrew Hall, 'returned the elder lady. 'Poor young George of the Red Peel had onlyjust told me so, when the caitiffs fell on him, and he came to hisbloody death. '

'Hall! Then I marvel not, ' said Eleanor, in a low, awe-struck voice. 'Mybrother the Dauphin could not have known. '

The old Scotswoman refrained from uttering her belief that he knew onlytoo well, but by the time all this had been said Barbe was obliged toleave them, having arranged for the night that Eleanor should sleep inthe big bed beside her sister, and their lady across it at their feet--anot uncommon arrangement in those days. 

Sleep, however, in spite of weariness, was only to be had in snatches, for poor Jean was in much pain, and very feverish, besides being greatlyterrified at their situation, and full of grief and self-reproach forthe poor young Master of Angus, never dozing off for a moment withoutfancying she saw him dying and upbraiding her, and for the most parttossing in a restless misery that required the attendance of one orboth. She had never known ailment before, and was thus all the morewretched and impatient, alarming and distressing Eleanor extremely, though Madame de Ste. Petronelle declared it was only a matter ofcourse, and that the lassie would soon be well. 

'Ah, Madame, our comforter and helper, ' said Elleen. 

'Call me no French names, dearies. Call me the Leddy Lindsay or DameElspeth, as I should be at home. We be all Scots here, in one sorestour. If I could win a word to my son, Ritchie, he would soon have usout of this place. '

'Would not Barbe help us to a messenger?'

'I doubt it. She would scarce bring trouble on her lords; but we mightbe worse off than with her. '

'Why does she not come? I want some more drink, ' moaned Jean. Barbe didcome, and, moreover, brought not only water but some tisane of herbsthat was good for fever and had been brewing all night, and she waswonderfully good-humoured at the patient's fretful refusal, thoughbetween coaxing and authority 'Leddy Lindsay' managed to get it takenat last. After Margaret's experience of her as a stern duenna, hertenderness in illness and trouble was a real surprise. 

No keys were turned on them, but there was little disposition to gobeyond the door which opened on the stone stair in the gray wall. Theview from the windows revealed that they were very high up. There wasa bit of castle wall to be seen below, and beyond a sea of forest, thedark masses of pine throwing out the lighter, more delicate sweeps ofbeech, and pale purple distance beyond--not another building withinview, giving a sense of vast solitude to Eleanor's eyes, more drearythan the sea at Dunbar, and far more changeless. An occasional bird wasall the variety to be hoped for. 

By and by Barbe brought a message that her masters requested the ladies'presence at the meal, a dinner, in fact, served about an hour beforenoon. Eleanor greatly demurred, but Barbe strongly advised consent, 'Ormy young lord will be coming up here, ' she said; 'they both wish to havespeech of you, and would have been here before now, if my old lord werenot so lame, and the young one so shy, the poor child!'

'Shy, ' exclaimed Eleanor, 'after what he has dared to do to us!'

'All the more for that very reason, ' said Barbe. 

'True, ' returned Madame; 'the savage who is most ferocious in his actsis most bashful in his breeding. '

'How should my poor boy have had any breeding up here in the forests?'demanded Barbe. 'Oh, if he had only fixed his mind on a maiden of hisown degree, she might have brought the good days back; but alas, nowhe will be only bringing about his own destruction, which the saintsavert. '

It was agreed that Eleanor had better make as royal and imposing anappearance as possible, so instead of the plain camlet riding kirtlesthat she and Lady Lindsay had worn, she donned a heraldic sort ofgarment, a tissue of white and gold thread, with the red lion rampingon back and breast, and the double tressure edging all the hems, partof the outfit furnished at her great-uncle's expense in London, but toogaudy for her taste, and she added to her already considerable height bythe tall, veiled headgear that had been despised as unfashionable. 

Jean from her bed cried out that she looked like Pharaoh's daughter inthe tapestry, and consented to be left to the care of little Trudchen, since Madame de Ste. Petronelle must act attendant, and Barbe evidentlythought her young master's good behaviour might be the better secured byher presence. 

So, at the bottom of the narrow stone stair, Eleanor shook out herplumes, the attendant lady arranged her veil over her yellow hair, anddrew out her short train and long hanging sleeves, a little behind thefashion, but the more dignified, as she swept into the ball, and thoughher heart beat desperately, holding her head stiff and high, and lookingevery inch a princess, the shrewd Scotch lady behind her flatteredherself that the two Barons did look a little daunted by the bearing ofthe creature they had caught. 

The father, who had somewhat the look of an old fox, limped forwardwith a less ungraceful bow than the son, who had more of the wolf. Somegreeting was mumbled, and the old man would have taken her hand to leadher to the highest place at table, but she would not give it. 

'I am no willing guest of yours, sir, ' she said, perhaps alarmed at herown boldness, but drawing herself up with great dignity. 'I desire toknow by what right my sister and I, king's daughters, on our way to KingCharles's Court, have thus been seized and detained?'

'We do not stickle as to rights here on the borders, Lady, ' said theelder Baron in bad French; 'it would be wiser to abate a little of thatoutre-cuidance of yours, and listen to our terms. '

'A captive has no choice save to listen, ' returned Eleanor; 'but asto speaking of terms, my brothers-in-law, the Dauphin and the Duke ofBrittany, may have something to say to them. '

'Exactly so, ' replied the old Baron, in a tone of some irony, which shedid not like. 'Now, Lady, our terms are these, but understand first thatall this affair is none of my seeking, but my son here has been backedup in it by some whom'--on a grunt from Sir Rudiger--'there is no needto name. He--the more fool he--has taken a fancy to your sister, though, if all reports be true, she has nought but her royal blood, not so muchas a denier for a dowry nor as ransom for either of you. However, this Iwill overlook, dead loss as it is to me and mine, and so your sister, so soon as she recovers from her hurt, will become my son's wife, andI will have you and your lady safely conducted without ransom to theborders of Normandy or Brittany, as you may list. '

'And think you, sir, ' returned Eleanor, quivering with indignation, 'that the daughter of a hundred kings is like to lower herself bylistening to the suit of a petty robber baron of the Marches?'

'I do not think! but I know that though I am a fool for giving in to myson's madness, these are the only terms I propose; and if you, Lady, sodeal with her as to make her accept them, you are free without ransom togo where you will. '

'You expect me to sell my sister, ' said Eleanor disdainfully. 

'Look you here, ' broke in Rudiger, bursting out of his shyness. 'She isthe fairest maiden, gentle or simple, I ever saw; I love her with all myheart. If she be mine, I swear to make her a thousand times more caredfor than your sister the Dauphiness; and if all be true your Scottisharchers tell me, you Scottish folk have no great cause to disdain anElsass forest castle. '

An awkward recollection, of the Black Knight of Lorn came acrossEleanor, but she did not lose her stately dignity. 

'It is not the wealth or poverty that we heed, ' she said, 'but thenobility and princeliness. '

'There is nothing to be done then, son, ' said the old Baron, 'but towait a day or two and see whether the maiden herself will be less proudand more reasonable. Otherwise, these ladies understand that there willbe close imprisonment and diet according to the custom of the bordertill a thousand gold crowns be paid down for each of these sisters of aScotch king, and five hundred for Madame here; and when that is like tobe found, the damoiselle herself may know, ' and he laughed. 

'We have those who will take care of our ransom, ' said Eleanor, thoughher heart misgave her. 'Moreover, Duke Sigismund will visit such anoffence dearly!' and there was a glow on her cheeks. 

'He knows better than to meddle with a vassal of Lorraine, ' said the oldman. 

'King Rene--' began Eleanor. 

'He is too wary to meddle with a vassal of Elsass, ' sneered the Baron. 'No, no, Lady, ransom or wedding, there lies your choice. '

With this there appeared to be a kind of truce, perhaps in consequenceof the appearance of a great pie; and Eleanor did not refuse to sitdown to the table and partake of the food, though she did not choose toconverse; whereas Madame de Ste. Petronelle thought it wiser to be asagreeable as she could, and this, in the opinion of the Court of theDauphiness, was not going very far. 

Long before the Barons and their retainers had finished, little Trudchencame hurrying down to say that the lady was crying and calling for hersister, and Eleanor was by no means sorry to hasten to her side, thoughonly to receive a petulant scolding for the desertion that had lasted sovery long, according to the sick girl's sensations. 

Matters remained in abeyance while the illness continued; Jean had anight of fever, and when that passed, under the experienced managementof Dame Elspie, as the sisters called her more and more, she was veryweak and sadly depressed. Sometimes she wept and declared she should diein these dismal walls, like her mother at Dunbar, and never see Jamieand Mary again; sometimes she blamed Elleen for having put this madscheme into her head; sometimes she fretted for her cousins Lilias andAnnis of Glenuskie, and was sure it was all Elleen's fault for havinglet themselves be separated from Sir Patrick; while at others shedeclared the Drummonds faithless and disloyal for having gone aftertheir own affairs and left the only true and leal heart to die forher; and then came fresh floods of tears, though sometimes, as shepassionately caressed Skywing, she declared the hawk to be the onlyfaithful creature in existence. 

Baron Rudiger was evidently very uneasy about her; Barbe reported howgloomy and miserable he was, and how he relieved his feelings by beatingthe unfortunate man who had been leading the horse, and in a wisermanner by seeking fish in the torrent and birds on the hills forher refreshment, and even helping Trudchen to gather the mountainstrawberries for her. This was, however, so far from a recommendation toJean, that after the first Barbe gave it to be understood that all wereTrudchen's providing. 

They suspected that Barbe nattered and soothed 'her boy, ' as she termedhim, with hopes, but they owed much to the species of authority withwhich she kept him from forcing himself upon them. Eleanor sometimestried to soothe her sister, and while away the time with her harp. TheScotch songs were a great delight to Dame Elspie, but they made Jeanweep in her weakness, and Elleen's great resource was King Rene'sparting gift of the tales of Huon de Bourdeaux, with its wonderfulchivalrous adventures, and the appearances of the dwarf Oberon; and shegreatly enjoyed the idea of the pleasure it would give Jamie--if evershe should see Jamie again; and she wondered, too, whether the Duke ofthe Tirol knew the story--which even at some moments amused Jean. 

There was a stair above their chamber, likewise in the thickness ofthe wall, which Barbe told them they might safely explore, andthence Eleanor discovered that the castle was one of the small butregularly-built fortresses not uncommon on the summit of hills. It wasan octagon--as complete as the ground would permit--with a huge wall anda tower at each angle. One face, that on the most accessible side, wasoccupied by the keep in which they were, with a watch-tower raising itsfinger and banner above them, the little, squat, round towers around notlifting their heads much above the battlements of the wall. The descenton most of the sides was almost precipitous, on two entirely so, whilein the rear another steep hill rose so abruptly that it seemed to frownover them though separated by a ravine. 

Nothing was to be seen all round but the tops of trees--dark pines, beeches, and chestnuts in the gay, light green of spring, a hopeless andoppressive waste of verdure, where occasionally a hawk might be seen tosoar, and whence the howlings of wolves might be heard at night. 

Jean was, in a week, so well that there was no cause for deferring theinterview any longer, and, indeed, she was persuaded that Elleen had notbeen half resolute or severe enough, and that she could soon show thetwo Barons that they detained her at their peril. Still she looked whiteand thin, and needed a scarf for her arm, when she caused herself to bearrayed as splendidly as her sister had been, and descended to the hall, where, like Eleanor, she took the initiative by an appeal against thewrong and injustice that held two free-born royal ladies captive. 

'He who has the power may do as he wills, my pretty damsel, ' replied theold Baron. 'Once for all, as I told your sister, these threats are ofno avail, though they sound well to puff up your little airs. Your ownkingdom is a long way off, and breeds more men than money; and as toour neighbours, they dare not embroil themselves by meddling with usborderers. You had better take what we offer, far better than aught yourbarbarous northern lords could give, and then your sister will be free, without ransom, to depart or to stay here till she finds another boldbaron of the Marches to take her to wife. Ha, thou Rudiger! why doststand staring like a wild pig in a pit? Canst not speak a word forthyself?'

'She shall be my queen, ' said Rudiger hoarsely, bumping himself down onhis knees, and trying to master her hand, but she drew it away from him. 

'As if I would be queen of a mere nest of robbers and freebooters, ' shesaid. 'You forget, Messires, that my sister is daughter-in-law to theKing of France. We must long ago have been missed, and I expect everyhour that my brother, the Dauphin, will be here with his troops. '

'That's what you expect. So you do not know, my proud demoiselle, thatmy son would scarce have been rash enough to meddle with such loftygear, for all his folly, if he had not had a hint that maidens withroyal blood but no royal portions were not wanted at Court, and might behad for the picking up!'

'It is a brutal falsehood, or else a mere invention of the traitorHall's, our father's murderer!' said Jean, with flashing eyes. 'I wouldhave you to know, both of you, my Lords, that were we betrayed andforsaken by every kinsman we have, I will not degrade the blood royal ofScotland by mating it with a rude and petty freebooter. You may keep uscaptives as you will, but you will not break our spirit. '

So saying, Jean swept back to the stairs, turning a deaf ear to theBaron's chuckle of applause and murmur, 'A gallant spirited dame shewill make thee, my junker, and hold out the castle well against allfoes, when once she is broken in. '

Jean and Eleanor alike disbelieved that Louis could have encouraged thisaudacious attempt, but they were dismayed to find that Madame de Ste. Petronelle thought it far from improbable, for she believed him capableof almost any underhand treachery. She did, however, believe that thoughthere might be some delay, a stir would be made, if only by her ownson, which would end in their situation being publicly known, and finalrelease coming, if Jean could only be patient and resolute. 

But to the poor girl it seemed as if the ground were cut from under herfeet; and as her spirits drooped more and more, there were times whenshe said, 'Elleen, I must consent. I have been the death of the one trueheart that was mine! Why should I hold out any longer, and make thee andDame Elspie wear out your days in this dismal forest hold? Never shall Ibe happy again, so it matters not what becomes of me. '

'It matters to me, ' said Elleen. 'Sister, thinkest thou I could go awayto be happy, leaving thee bound to this rude savage in his donjon? Fie, Jean, this is not worthy of King James's daughter; he spent all thoseyears of patience in captivity, and shall we lose heart in a few days?'

'Is it a few days? It is like years!'

'That is because thou hast been sick. See now, let us dance and sing, sothat the jailers may know we are not daunted. We have been shut up erenow, God brought us out, and He will again, and we need not pine. '

'Ah, then we were children, and had seen nothing better; and--and therewas not his blood on me!'

And Jean fell a-weeping. 

CHAPTER 10. TENDER AND TRUE

 'For I am now the Earlis son, And not a banished, man. '--The Nut-Brown Maid. 

'O St. Andrew! St. Bride! Our Lady of Succour! St. Denys!--all the laveof you, that may be nearest in this fremd land, --come and aid him. Itis the Master of Angus, ye ken--the hope of his house. He'll build youchurches, gie ye siller cups and braw vestments gin ye'll bring himback. St. Andrew! St. Rule! St. Ninian!--you ken a Scots tongue! Stayhis blood, --open his een, --come to help ane that ever loved you and didyou honour!'

So wailed Ringan of the Raefoot, holding his master's head on his knees, and binding up as best he might an ugly thrust in the side, and a blowwhich had crushed the steel cap into the midst of the hair. When he sawhis master fall and the ladies captured, he had, with the better partof valour, rushed aside and hid himself in the thicket of thorns andhazels, where, being manifestly only a stray horseboy, no search wasmade for him. He rightly concluded that, dead or alive, his master mightthus be better served than by vainly struggling over his fallen body. 

It seemed as though, in answer to his invocation, a tremor began to passthrough Douglas's frame, and as Ringan exclaimed, 'There! there!--helives! Sir, sir! Blessings on the saints! I was sure that a Frenchreiver's lance could never be the end of the Master, ' George opened hiseyes. 

'What is it?' he said faintly. 'Where are the ladies?'

'Heed not the leddies the noo, sir, but let me bind your head. That caphas crushed like an egg-shell, and has cut you worse than the sword. Bide still, sir, I say, if ye mean to do any gude another time!'

'The ladies--Ringan--'

'The loons rid aff wi' them, sir--up towards the hills yonder. Nay! butif ye winna thole to let me bind your wound, how d'ye think to win totheir aid, or ever to see bonnie Scotland again?'

George submitted to this reasoning; but, as his senses returned, askedif all the troop had gone. 

'Na, sir; the ane with that knight who was at the tourney--a plaguelight on him--went aff with the leddies--up yonder; but they, as theycalled the escort--the Archers of the Guard, as they behoved to callthemselves--they rid aff by the way that we came by--the traitor loons!'

'Ah! it was black treachery. Follow the track of the ladies, Ringan;--heed not me. '

'Mickle gude that wad do, sir, if I left you bleeding here! Na, na; Imaun see you safely bestowed first before I meet with ony other. I'm theDouglas's man, no the Stewart's. '

'Then will I after them!' cried George of Angus, starting up; but hestaggered and had to catch at Ringan. 

There was no water near; nothing to refresh or revive him had been left. Ringan looked about in anxiety and distress on the desolate scene--bareheath on one side, thicket, gradually rising into forest and mountain, on the other. Suddenly he gave a long whistle, and to his great joythere was a crackling among the bushes and he beheld the shaggy-facedpony on which he had ridden all the way from Yorkshire, and which hadno doubt eluded the robbers. There was a bundle at the saddle-bow, andafter a little coquetting the pony allowed itself to be caught, anda leathern bottle was produced from the bag, containing somethingexceedingly sour, but with an amount of strength in it which didsomething towards reviving the Master. 

'I can sit the pony, ' he said; 'let us after them. '

'Nae sic fulery, ' said Ringan. 'I ken better what sorts a green woundlike yours, sir! Sit the pony ye may, but to be safely bestowed, ere Istir a foot after the leddies. '

George broke out into fierce language and angry commands, none of whichRingan heeded in the least. 

'Hist:' he cried, 'there's some one on the road. Come into shelter, sir. '

He was half dragging, half supporting his master to the concealmentof the bushes, when he perceived that the new-comers were two friars, cowled, black gowned, corded, and barefooted. 

'There will be help in them, ' he muttered, placing his master with hisback against a tree; for the late contention had produced such freshexhaustion that it was plain the wounds were more serious than he hadthought at first. 

The two friars, men with homely, weather-beaten, but simple good faces, came up, startled at seeing a wounded man on the way-side, and ready toproffer assistance. 

Need like George Douglas's was of all languages, and besides, Ringanhad, among the exigencies of the journey, picked up something by whichhe could make himself moderately well understood. The brethren stoopedover the wounded man and examined his wounds. One of them produced someoil from a flask in his wallet, and though poor George's own shirt wasthe only linen available, they contrived to bandage both hurts far moreeffectually than Ringan could. 

They asked whether this was the effect of a quarrel or the work ofrobbers. 

'Routiers, ' Ringan said. 'The ladies--we guarded them--they carried themoff--up there. '

'What ladies?--the Scottish princesses?' asked one of the friars; forthey had been at Nanci, and knew who had been assembled there; besidesthat, the Scot was known enough all over France for the nationality ofRingan and his master to have been perceived at once. 

George understood this, and answered vehemently, 'I must follow them andsave them!'

'In good time, with the saints' blessing, ' replied Brother Benignesoothingly, 'but healing must come first. We must have you to our poorhouse yonder, where you will be well tended. '

George was lifted to the pony's back, and supported in the saddle byRingan and one of the brethren. He had been too much dazed by the cuton the head to have any clear or consecutive notion as to what they weredoing with him, or what passed round him; and Ringan did his best toexplain the circumstances, and thought it expedient to explain that hismaster was 'Grand Seigneur' in his own country, and would amplyrepay whatever was done for him; the which Brother Gerard gave himto understand was of no consequence to the sons of St. Francis. Thebrothers had no doubt that the outrage was committed by the BalchenburgBaron, the ally of the ecorcheurs and routiers, the terrors of thecountry, in his impregnable castle. No doubt, they said, he meant todemand a heavy ransom from the good King and Dauphin. For the honourof Scotland, Ringan, though convinced that Hall had his share in thetreason, withheld that part of the story. To him, and still more to hismaster, the journey seemed endless, though in reality it was not morethan two miles before they arrived at a little oasis of wheat andorchards growing round a vine-clad building of reddish stone, with aspire rising in the midst. 

Here the porter opened the gate in welcome. The history was volublytold, the brother-infirmarer was summoned, and the Master of Angus wasdeposited in a much softer bed than the good friars allowed themselves. There the infirmarer tended him in broken feverish sleep all night, Ringan lying on a pallet near, and starting up at every moan or murmur. But with early dawn, when the brethren were about to sing prime, the ladrose up, and between signs and words made them understand that he mustbe released, pointing towards the mountains, and comporting himself muchlike a dog who wanted to be let out. 

Perceiving that he meant to follow the track of the ladies, the friarsnot only opened the doors to him, but gave him a piece of black barleybread, with which he shot off, like an arrow from a bow, towards theplace where the catastrophe had taken place. 

George Douglas's mind wandered a good deal from the blow on his head, and it was not till two or three days had elapsed that he was ableclearly to understand what his follower had discovered. Almost with theinstinct of a Red Indian, Ringan had made his way. At first, indeed, thebushes had been sufficiently trampled for the track to be easy to find, but after the beech-trees with no underwood had been reached, he hadoften very slight indications to guide him. Where the halt had takenplace, however, by the brook-side, there were signs of trampling, andeven a few remnants of food; and after a long climb higher, he had comeon the marks of the fall of a horse, and picked up a piece of a tornveil, which he recognised at once as belonging to the Lady Joanna. Heinferred a struggle. What had they been doing to her?

Faithful Ringan had climbed on, and at length had come below the castle. He had been far too cautious to show himself while light lasted, butavailing himself of the shelter of trees and of the projections, he hadpretty well reconnoitred the castle as it stood on its steep slopes ofturf, on the rounded summit of the hill, only scarped away on one side, whence probably the materials had been taken. 

There could be no doubt that this was the prison of the princesses, andthe character of the Barons of Balchenburg was only too well known tothe good Franciscans. 

'Soevi et feroces, ' said the Prior to George, for Latin had turnedout to be the most available medium of communication. Spite of Scott'saverment in the mouth of George's grandson, Bell the Cat, that--

 'Thanks to St Bothan, son of mine, Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line, '

the Douglases were far too clever to go without education, and youngnobles who knew anything knew a little Latin. There was a consultationover what was to be done, and the Prior undertook to send one of hisbrethren into Nanci with Ringan, to explain the matter to King Rene, or, if he had left Nanci for Provence, to the governor left in charge. But afrontier baron like Balchenburg was a very serious difficulty to one soscrupulous in his relations with his neighbours as was good King Rene. 

'A man of piety, peace, and learning, ' said the Prior, 'and thereforedespised by lawless men, like a sheep among wolves, though happy are wein living under such a prince. '

'Then what's the use of him and all his raree shows, ' demanded the Scot, 'if he can neither hinder two peaceful maids from being carried off, nor will stir a finger to deliver them? Much should we heed borders andkings if it had been a Ridley or a Graeme who had laid hands on them. '

However, he consented to the Prior's proposal, and the incongruous pairset out together, --the sober-paced friar on the convent donkey, andRingan on his shaggy pony, --both looking to civilised eyes equally roughand unkempt. At the gates they heard that King Rene had the day beforeset forth on his way to Aix, which boded ill for them, since more mightbe hoped from the impulsive chivalry of the King than from the strictscrupulosity of a responsible governor. 

But they had not gone far on their way across the Place de La Carriere, where the tournament had been held, before Ringan startled his companionwith a perfect howl, which had in it, however, an element of ecstasy, as he dashed towards a tall, bony figure in a blue cap, buff coat, andshepherd's plaid over one shoulder. 

'Archie o' the Brake. Archie! Oh, ye're a sight for sair een! How cam'ye here?'

'Eh!' was the answer, equally astonished. 'Wha is it that cries on mehere? Eh! eh! 'Tis never Ringan of the Raefoot-sae braw and grand?'

For Ringan was a wonderful step before him in civilisation. 

Queries--'How cam' ye here?' and 'Whar' is the Master?'--were rapidlyexchanged, while the friar looked on in amaze at the two wild-lookingmen, about whom other tall Scots, more or less well equipped, began togather, coming from a hostelry near at hand. 

The Earl of Angus, as they told him, had been neither to have nor tohold when first his embassy to Dunbar came back, and his son was foundto be missing. He had been very near besieging the young King, untilBishop Kennedy had convinced him that no one of the Court had suspectedthe Master's presence, far less connived at his disappearance. The truthhad been suspected before long, though there was no certainty until theletter that George Douglas had at last vouchsafed to write had, afterspending a good deal of time on the road, at last reached Tantallon. Then the Earl had declared that, since his son had set out on thisfool's errand, he should be suitably furnished for the heir of Angus, and should play his part as became him in their sports at Nanci, whitherhis letter said he was bound, instead of figuring as a mere groom ofDrummond of Glenuskie, and still worse, in the train of a low-bornEnglishman like De la Pole. 

So he had sent off ten lances, under a stout kinsman who had campaignedin France before--Sir Robert Douglas of Harside--with all theirfollowers, and full equipment, such as might befit the heir of a branchof the great House of the Bleeding Heart. But their voyage had not beenprosperous, and after riding from Flanders they had found the weddingover, and no one in the hostel having heard of the young Master ofAngus, nor even having distinguished Sir Patrick Drummoud, though therewas a vague idea that the Scottish king's sisters had been there. 

Sir Robert Douglas had gone to have an interview with the governor leftin charge. Thus the separation of the party became known to him--how theDrummonds had gone to Paris, and the Scottish ladies had set forth forChalons; but there was nothing to show with whom the Master had gone. No sooner, then, had he come forth than half his men were round himshouting that here was Ringan of the Raefoot, that the Master had beenfoully betrayed, and that he was lying sair wounded at a Priory not faroff. 

Ringan, a perfectly happy man among those who not only had Scotstongues, but the Bleeding Heart on shield and breast, was brought upto him and told of the attack and capture of the princesses, and of theMaster's wounds. 

Sir Robert, after many imprecations, turned back to the governor, whoheard the story in a far more complete form than if it had been relatedto him by Ringan and the friar. 

But his hands were tied till he could communicate with King Rene, forborder warfare was strictly forbidden, and unfortunately Duke Sigismundhad left Nanci some days before for Luxembourg to meet the Duke ofBurgundy. 

However, just as George Douglas had persuaded the infirmarer to let himput on his clothes, there had been a clanging and jangling in the outercourt, and the Lion and Eagle banner was visible. Duke Sigismund haddrawn up there to water the horses, and to partake of any hospitalitythe Prior might offer him. 

The first civilities were passing between them, when a tall figure, his red hair crossed by a bandage, his ruddy face paled, his stepsfaltering, came stumbling forward to the porch, crying, in his wonderfuldialect between Latin and French, 'Sire, Domine Dux! Justitia! Youloved the Lady Eleanor. Free her! They are prisoners to latroni--unroutier--sceleratissimo--reiver--Balchenburg!'

Sigismund, ponderous and not very rapid, opened wide his big blue eyes, while the Prior explained in French, 'It is even so, beau sire. Thispoor man-at-arms was found bleeding on the way-side by our brethren, having been left for dead by the robbers of Balchenburg, who, it seems, descended on the ladies, dispersed their escort, and carried them off tothe castle. '

Sigismund made some tremendously emphatic exclamation in German, andturned upon Douglas to interrogate him. They had very little of commonlanguage, but Sigismund knew French, though he hated it, and was notdevoid of Latin, so that the narrative was made tolerably clear to him, and he had no doubts or scruples as to instantly calling the latronesto account, and releasing the ladies. He paced up and down theguest-chamber, his spurs clattering against the stone pavement, growlingimprecations in guttural German, now and then tugging at his long fairhair as he pictured Eleanor in the miscreants' power, putting queries toGeorge, more than could be understood or answered, and halting at dooror window to shout orders to his knights to be ready at once forthe attack. George was absolutely determined that, whatever his owncondition, he would not be left behind, though he could only go uponRingan's pony, and was evidently in Sigismund's opinion only a faithfulgroom. 

It was hard to say whether he was relieved or not when there wasevidently a vehement altercation in German between the Duke and a tough, grizzled old knight, the upshot of which turned out to be that theRitter Gebhardt von Fuchstein absolutely refused to proceed throughthose pine and beech forests so late in the day; since it would be onlytoo easy to lose the way, and there might be ambuscades or the like ifBalchenburg and his crew were on the watch, and there was no doubt thatthey were allied with all the rentiers in the country. 

Sigismund raged, but he was in some degree under the dominion of hisprudent old Marskalk, and had to submit, while George knew that anothernight would further restore him, and would besides bring back hisattendant. 

The next hour brought more than he had expected. Again there was aclattering of hoofs, a few words with the porter, and to the utteramazement of the Prior, as well as of Duke Sigismund, who had just beenserved with a meal of Franciscan diet, a knight in full armour, with thecrowned heart on his breast, dashed into the hall, threw a hasty bow tothe Prior, and throwing his arms round the wounded man-at-arms, criedaloud, 'Geordie--the Master--ye daft callant! See what you have broughtyourself to! What would the Yerl your father say?'

'I trow that I have been striving to do my devoir to my liege'ssisters, ' answered George. 'How does my father?--and my mother? Makeyour obeisance to the Duke of the Tirol, Rab. Ye can knap the Frenchwith him better than I. Now I can go with him as becomes a yerl's son, for the freedom of the lady!'

Sir Robert, a veteran Scot, who knew the French world well, was soonexplaining matters to Duke Sigismund, who presently advanced to the heirof Angus, wrung his hand, and gave him to understand that he acceptedhim as a comrade in their doughty enterprise, and honoured hisproceeding as a piece of knight-errantry. He was free from any questionwhether George was to be esteemed a rival by hearing it was the LadyJoanna for whose sake he thus adventured himself, whereas it was not herbeauty, but her sister's intellect that had won the heart of Sigismund. Perhaps Sir Robert somewhat magnified the grandeur of the house ofDouglas, for Sigismund seemed to view the young man as an equal, whichhe was not, as the Hapsburgs of Alsace and the Tirol were sovereignprinces; but, on the other hand, George could count princesses amonghis ancestresses, and only Jean's personal ambition had counted his as amesalliance. 

It was determined to advance upon the Castle of Balchenburg the nextmorning, the ten Scottish lances being really forty men, making theDouglas's troop not much inferior to the Alsatian. 

A night's rest greatly restored George, and equipments had been broughtfor him, which made him no longer appear only the man-at-arms, but thegallant young nobleman, though not yet entitled to the Golden Spurs. 

Ringan served as their guide up the long hills, through the woods, upsteep slippery slopes, where it became expedient to leave behind thebig heavy war-horses under a guard, while the rest pushed forward, theMaster of Angus's long legs nearly touching the ground, as, not to wastehis strength, he was mounted on Ringan's sure-footed pony, which seemedat home among mountains. Sigismund himself, and the Tirolese among hisfollowers, were chamois-hunters and used enough to climbing, and thus atlength they found themselves at the foot of the green rounded slopesof the talchen or ballon, crowned by the fortress with its eightcorner-turrets and the broader keep. 

Were Elleen and Jean looking out--when the Alsatian trumpeter cameforward in full array, and blew three sonorous blasts, echoing amongthe mountains, and doubtless bringing hope to the prisoners? The ruggedwalls of the castle had, however, an imperturbable look, and there wasnothing responsive at the gateway. 

A pursuivant then stood forth--for Sigismund had gone in full state tohis intended wooing at Nanci--and called upon the Baron of Balchenburgto open his gates to his liege lord the Duke of Alsace. 

On this a wicket was opened in the gate; but the answer, in a hoarseshout, was that the Baron of Balchenburg owned allegiance only, underthe Emperor Frederick, to King Rene, Duke of Lorraine. 

What hot words were thereupon spoken between Sigismund, Gebhardt, and the two Douglases it scarcely needs to tell; but, looking at thestrength of the castle, it was agreed that it would be wiser to couplewith the second summons an assurance that, though Duke Sigismund was thelawful lord of the mountain, and entrance was denied at the peril of theBaron, yet he would remit his first wrath, provided the royal ladies, foully and unjustly detained there in captivity, were instantlydelivered up in all safety. 

To this the answer came back, with a sound of derisive mockery--One wasthe intended wife of Baron Rudiger; the other should be delivered up tothe Duke upon ransom according to her quality. 

'The ransom I will pay, ' roared Sigismund in German, 'shall be by theaxe and cord!'

The while George Douglas gnashed his teeth with rage when the reply asto Jean had been translated to him. The Duke hurled his fierce defianceat the castle. It should be levelled with the ground, and the robbersshould suffer by cord, wheel, and axe. 

But what was the use of threats against men within six or eight feetevery way of stone wall, with a steep slippery slope leading up to it?Heavily armed horsemen were of no avail against it. Even if there werenothing but old women inside, there was no means of making an entrance. Sigismund possessed three rusty cannon, made of bars of iron hoopedtogether; but they were no nearer than Strasburg, and if they had beenat hand, there was no getting them within distance of those walls. 

There was nothing for it but to blockade the castle while sendingafter King Rene for assistance and authority. The worst of it was, thatstarving the garrison would be starving the captives; and likewise, sofar up on the mountain, a troop of eighty or ninety men and horseswere as liable to lack of provisions as could be the besieged garrison. Villages were distant, and transport not easy to find. Money was neverabundant with Duke Sigismund, and had nearly all been spent on theentertainments at Nanci; nor could he make levies as lord of thecountry-folk, since the more accessible were not Alsatian, butLorrainers, and to exasperate their masters by raids would bring freshdanger. Indeed, the two nearest castles were on Lorraine territory;their masters had not a much better reputation than the Balchenburgs, and, with the temptation of war-horses and men in their most holidayequipment, were only too likely to interpret Sigismund's attack as aninvasion of their dukedom, and to fall in strength upon the party. 

All this Gebhardt represented in strong colours, recommending that thisuntenable position should not be maintained. 

Sigismund swore that nothing should induce him to abandon the unhappyladies. 

'Nay, my Lord Duke, it is only to retreat till King Rene sends hisforces, and mayhap the French Dauphin. '

'To retreat would be to prolong their misery. Nay, the felons wouldthink them deserted, and work their will. Out upon such craven counsel!'

'The captive ladies may be secured from an injury if your lordship holdsa parley, demands the amount of ransom, and, without pledging yourself, undertakes to consult the Dauphin and their other kinsmen on thematter. '

'Detained here in I know not what misery, exposed to insults endless?Never, Gebhardt! I marvel that you can make such proposals to any beltedknight!'

Gebhardt grumbled out, 'Rather to a demented lover! The Lord Duke willsing another tune ere long. '

Certainly it looked serious the next day when Sir Robert Douglas had hadthe greatest difficulty in hindering a hand-to-hand fight between theScots and Alsatians for a strip of meadow land for pasture for theirhorses; when a few loaves of black bread were all that could beobtained from one village, and in another there had been a fray with thepeasants, resulting in blows by way of payment for a lean cow and calfand four sheep. The Tirolese laid the blame on the Scots, the Scotsupon the Tirolese; and though disputes between his Tirolese and Alsatianfollowers had been the constant trouble of Sigismund at Nanci, theynow joined in making common cause against the Scots, so that Gebhardtstrongly advised that these should be withdrawn to Nanci for thepresent, the which advice George Douglas hotly resented. He had as gooda claim to watch the castle as the Duke. He was not going to desert hisKing's sisters, far less the lady he had followed from Scotland. If anyone was to be ordered off, it should be the fat lazy Alsatians, who weregood for nothing but to ride big Flemish horses, and were useless on amountain. 

Gebhardt and Robert Douglas, both experienced men of the world, found itone of their difficulties to keep the peace between their young lords;and each day was likely to render it more difficult. They began torepresent that it could be made a condition that the leaders should bepermitted to see the ladies and ascertain whether they were treated withcourtesy; and there was a certain inclination on Sigismund's part, whenhe was driven hard by his embarrassments, to allow this to be proposed. 

The very notion of coming to any terms made Geordie furious. If thecraven Dutchman chose to sneak off and go in search of a ransom, forsooth, he would lie at the foot of the castle till he had burrowedthrough the walls or found a way over the battlements. 

'Ay, ' said Douglas of Harside drily, 'or till the Baron sticks you inthe thrapple, or his next neighbour throws you into his dungeon. '

In the meantime the captives themselves were suffering, as may well bebelieved, agonies of suspense. Their loophole did not look out towardsthe gateway, but they heard the peals of the trumpet, started up withjoy, and thought their deliverance was come. Eleanor threw herself onher knees; Lady Lindsay began to collect their properties; Jean made arush for the stair leading to the top of the turret, but she found herway barred by one of the few men-at-arms, who held his pike towards herin a menacing manner. 

She tried to gaze from the window, but it told her nothing, except thata certain murmur of voices broke upon the silence of the woods. Nothingmore befell them. They eagerly interrogated Barbe. 

'Ah yes, lady birds!' she said, 'there is a gay company without, all inglittering harness, asking for you, but my Lords know 'tis like a poorfrog smelling at a walnut, for any knight of them all to try to make wayinto this castle!'

'Who are they? For pity's sake, tell us, dear Barbe, ' entreated Eleanor. 

'They say it is the Duke himself; but he has never durst meddle with myLords before. All but the Hawk's tower is in Lorraine, and my Lordcan bring a storm about his ears if he lifts a finger against us. Amessenger would soon bring Banget and Steintour upon him. But never youfear, fair ladies, you have friends, and he will come to terms, ' saidgood old Barbe, divided between pity for her guests and loyalty to hermasters. 

'If it is the Duke, he will free you, Elleen, ' said Jean weeping; 'hewill not care for me!'

'Jeanie, Jeanie, could you think I would be set free without you?'

'You might not be able to help yourself. 'Tis you that the Germanwants. '

'Never shall he have me if he be such a recreant, mansworn fellow as toleave my sister to the reiver. Never!'

'Ah! if poor Geordie were there, he would have moved heaven and earth tosave me; but there is none to heed me now, ' and Jean fell into a passionof weeping. 

When they had to go down to supper, the younger Baron received them withthe news--'So, ladies, the Duke has been shouting his threats at us, butthis castle is too hard a nut for the like of him. '

'I have seen others crack their teeth against it, ' said his father; andthey both laughed, a hoarse derisive laugh. 

The ladies vouchsafed not a word till they were allowed to retire totheir chamber. 

 They listened in the morning for the sounds of an assault, butnone came; there was absolutely nothing but an occasional hum of voicesand clank of armour. When summoned to the mid-day meal, it was scanty. 

'Ay, ' said the elder Baron, we shall have to live hard for a day or two, but those outside will live harder. '

'Till they fall out and cut one another's throats, ' said his son. 'Fasting will not mend the temper of Hans of Schlingen and Michel au Becrouge. '

'Or till Banget descends on him for meddling on Lorraine ground, ' addedold Balchenburg. 'Eat, lady, ' he added to Jean; 'your meals are not solarge that they will make much odds to our stores. We have corn and beerenough to starve out those greedy knaves outside!'

Poor Jean was nearly out of her senses with distress and uncertainty, and being still weak, was less able to endure. She burst into violenthysterical weeping, and had to be helped up to her own room, where shesometimes lay on her bed; sometimes raged up and down the room, heapingviolent words on the head of the tardy cowardly German; sometimestalking of loosing Skywing to show they were in the castle and cognisantof what was going on; but it was not certain that Skywing, with the lionrampant on his hood, would fly down to the besiegers, so that she wouldonly be lost. 

Eleanor, by the very need of soothing her sister, was enabled to be moretranquil. Besides, there was pleasure in the knowledge that Sigismundhad come after her, and there was imagination enough in her nature totrust to the true knight daring any amount of dragons in his lady'scause. And the lady always had to be patient. 

CHAPTER 11. FETTERS BROKEN

 Then long and loud the victor shout From turret and from tower rang out; The rugged walls replied. SCOTT, Lord of the Isles. 

'Sir, I have something to show you. '

It was the early twilight of a summer's morning when Ringan crept up tothe shelter of pine branches under which George Douglas was sleeping, after hotly opposing Gebhardt, who had nearly persuaded his master thatretreat was inevitable, unless he meant to be deserted by more than halfhis men. 

George sat up. 'Anent the ladies?' he said. 

Ringan bowed his head, with an air of mystery and George doubted nolonger, but let him lead the way, keeping among the brushwood to thefoot of the quarry whence the castle had been built. It had once beenabsolutely precipitous, no doubt, but the stone was of a soft quality, on which weather told: ivy and creepers had grown on it, and Ringanpointed to what to dwellers on plains might have seemed impracticable, but to those who had bird's-nested on the crags of Tantallon had quite adifferent appearance. True, there was castle wall and turret above, buton this, the weather side, there had likewise been a slight crumbling, which had been neglected, perhaps from over security, perhaps on accountof the extreme difficulty of repairing, where there was the merest ledgefor foothold above the precipitous quarry; indeed, the condition of theplace might never even have been perceived by the inhabitants, as therewere no traces of the place below having been frequented. 

'Tis a mere staircase as far as the foot of the walls compared with theGuillemot's crag, ' observed Ringan. 

'And a man with a heart and a foot could be up the wall in the cornerwhere the ivy grows, ' added George. 'It is well, Ringan, thou hast donegood service. Here is the way. '

'With four or five of our own tall carles, we may win the castle, andlaugh at the German pock-puddings, ' added Ringan. 'Let them gang theirgate, and we'll free our leddies. '

George was tempted, but he shook his head. 'That were scarce knightlytowards the Duke, ' he said. 'He has been gude friend to me, and I maynot thus steal a march on him. Moreover, we ken na the strength of theloons within. '

'I misdoot there being mair than ten of them, ' said Ringan. 'I haveseen the same faces too often for there to be many. And what there be weshall take napping. '

That was true; nevertheless George Douglas felt bound in honour not toundertake the enterprise without the cognisance of his ally, thoughhe much doubted the Germans being alert or courageous enough to takeadvantage of such a perilous clamber. 

Sigismund had a tent under the pine-trees, and a guard before theentrance, who stood, halbert in hand, like a growling statue, whenthe young Scot would have entered, understanding not one word of hisobjurgations in mixed Scotch and French, but only barring the way, tillSigismund's own 'Wer da?' sounded from within. 

'Moi--George of Angus!' shouted that individual in his awkward French. 'Let me in, Sir Duke; I have tidings!'

Sigismund was on foot in a moment. 'And from King Eene?' he asked. 

'Far better, strong heart and steady foot can achieve the adventure andsave the ladies unaided! Come with me, beau sire! Silently. '

George had fully expected to see the German quail at the frightfulprecipice and sheer wall before him, but the Hapsburg was primarilya Tirolean mountaineer, and he measured the rock with a glisteningtriumphant eye. 

'Man can, ' he said. 'That will we. Brave sire, your hand on it. '

The days were almost at their longest, and it was about five in themorning, the sun only just making his way over the screen of the higherhills to the north-east, though it had been daylight for some time. 

Prudence made the two withdraw under the shelter of the woods, and therethey built their plan, both young men being gratified to do so withouttheir two advisers. 

Neither of them doubted his own footing, and George was sure thatthree or four of the men who had come with Sir Robert were equally goodcragsmen. Sigismund sighed for some Tirolese whom he had left at home, but he had at least one man with him ready to dare any height; and hethought a rope would make all things sure. Nothing could be attemptedtill the next night, or rather morning, and Sigismund decided on sendinga messenger down to the Franciscans to borrow or purchase a rope, whileGeorge and Ringan, more used to shifts, proceeded to twist together allthe horses' halters they could collect, so as to form a strong cable. 

To avert suspicion, Sigismund appeared to have yielded to the murmursof his people, and sent more than half his troop down the hill, in theexpectation that he was about to follow. The others were withdrawn underone clump of wood, the Scotsmen under another, with orders to advanceupon the gateway of the castle so soon as they should hear a summonsfrom the Duke's bugle, or the cry, 'A Douglas!' Neither Sir Gebhardt norSir Robert was young enough or light enough to attempt the climb, eachwould fain have withheld his master, had it been possible, but theywould have their value in dealing with the troop waiting below. 

So it came to pass that when Eleanor, anxious, sorrowful, heated, andweary, awoke at daydawn and crept from the side of her sleeping sisterto inhale a breath of morning breeze and murmur a morning prayer, as shegazed from her loophole over the woods with a vague, never-quenchablehope of seeing something, she became aware of something very stealthybelow--the rustling of a fox, or a hare in the fern mayhap, though shecould not see to the bottom of the quarry, but she clung to thebar, craned forward, and beheld far down a shaking of the ivy andwhite-flowered rowan; then a hand, grasping the root of a little sturdybirch, then a yellow head gradually drawn up, till a thin, bony, alertfigure was for a moment astride on the birch. Reaching higher, thesunburnt, freckled face was lifted up, and Eleanor's heart gave a greatthrob of hope. Was it not the wild boy, Ringan Raefoot? She could notturn away her head, she durst not even utter a word to thosewithin, lest it should be a mere fancy, or a lad from the countrybird's-nesting. Higher, higher he went, lost for a moment among theleaves and branches, then attaining a crag, in some giddy manner. But, but--what was that head under a steel cap that had appeared on the tree?What was that face raised for a moment? Was it the face of the dead?Eleanor forced back a cry, and felt afraid of wakening herself from whatshe began to think only a blissful dream, --all the more when that lengthof limb had reared itself, and attained to the dizzy crag above. Afairer but more solid face, with a long upper lip, appeared, mounting inits turn. She durst not believe her eyes, and she was not conscious ofmaking any sound, unless it was the vehement beating of her own heart;but perhaps it was the power of her own excitement that communicateditself to her sleeping sister, for Jean's voice was heard, 'What is it, Elleen; what is it?'

She signed back with her hand to enjoin silence, for her sense began totell her that this must be reality, and that castles had before nowbeen thus surprised by brave Scotsmen. Jean was out of bed and at theloophole in a moment. There was room for only one, and Eleanor yieldedthe place, the less reluctantly that the fair head had reached thepart veiled by the tree, and Jean's eyes would be an evidence that sheherself might trust her own sight. 

Jean's glance first fell on the backs of the ascending figures, nowabove the crag. 'Ah! ah!' she cried, under her breath, 'a surprise--arescue! Oh! the lad--stretching, spreading! The man below is holding hisfoot. Oh! that tuft of grass won't bear him. His knees are up. Yes--yes!he is even with the top of the wall now. Elleen! Hope! Brave laddie!Why--'tis--yes--'tis Ringan. Now the other, the muckle carle--Ah!' andthen a sudden breathless silence came over her. 

Eleanor knew she had recognised that figure!

Madame de Ste. Petronelle was awake now, asking what this meant. 

'Deliverance!' whispered Eleanor. 'They are scaling the wall. Oh, Jean, one moment--'

'I canna, I canna, ' cried Jean, grasping the iron bar with all hermight: 'I see his face; he is there on the ledge, at fit of the wall, inlife and strength. Ringan--yes, Ringan is going up the wall like a cat!'

'Where is he? Is he safe--the Duke, I would say?' gasped Eleanor. 'Oh, let me see, Jeanie. '

'The Duke, is it? Ah! Geordie is giving a hand to help him on theground. Tak' tent, tak' tent, Geordie. Dinna coup ower. Ah! they arebaith there, and one--two--three muckle fellows are coming after them. '

'Climbing up there!' exclaimed the Dame, bustling up. 'God speed them. Those are joes worth having, leddies!'

'There! there--Geordie is climbing now. St. Bride speed him, and hidethem. Well done, Duke! He hoisted him so far. Now his hand is onthat broken stone. Up! up! His foot is in the cleft now! Hishand--oh!--clasps the ivy! God help him! Ah, he feels about. Yes, he hasit. Now--now the top of the battlement. I see no more. They are lettingdown a rope. Your Duke disna climb like my Geordie, Elleen!'

'Oh, for mercy's sake, to your prayers, dinna wrangle about your joes, bairns, ' cried Madame de Ste. Petronelle. 'The castle's no won yet!'

'But is as good as won, ' said Eleanor. 'There are barely twelve fightingmen in it, and sorry loons are the maist. How many are up yet, Jeanie?'

'There's a fifth since the Duke yet to come up, ' answered Jean, 'eightaltogether, counting the gallant Ringan. There!'

''Tis the warder's horn. They have been seen!' and the poor womenclasped their hands in fervent prayer, with ears intent; but Jeansuddenly darted towards her clothes, and they hastily attiredthemselves, then cautiously peeped out at their door, since neithersight nor sound came to them from either window. The guard who hadhindered their passage was no longer there, and Jean led the way downthe spiral stairs. At the slit looking into the court they heardcries and the clash of arms, but it was too high above their heads foranything to be seen, and they hastened on. 

There also in the narrow court was a fight going on--but nearlyended. Geordie Douglas knelt over the prostrate form of Rudiger vonBalchenburg, calling on him to yield, but meeting no answer. One or twoother men lay overthrown, three or four more were pressed up againsta wall, howling for mercy. Sigismund was shouting to them inGerman--Ringan and the other assailants standing guard over them; butevidently hardly withheld from slaughtering them. The maidens stoodfor a moment, then Jean's scream of welcome died on her lips, for ashe looked up from his prostrate foe, and though he had not yet eitherspoken or risen, Sigismund had stepped to his side, and laid his swordon his shoulder. 

'Victor!' said he, 'in the name of God and St. Mary, I make theeChevalier. Rise, Sire George of Douglas!'

'True knight!' cried Jean, leaping to his side. 'Oh, Geordie, Geordie, thou hast saved us! Thou noblest knight!'

'Ah! Lady, it canna be helpit, ' said the new knight. ''Tis no treasonto your brother to be dubbed after a fair fight, though 'tis by a Dutchprince. '

'Thy King's sister shall mend that, and bind your spurs, ' said Jean. 'Isthe reiver dead, Geordie?'

'Even so, ' was the reply. 'My sword has spared his craig from thehalter. '

Such were the times, and such Jean's breeding, that she looked at thefallen enemy much as a modern lady may look at a slain tiger. 

Eleanor had meantime met Sigismund with, 'Ah! well I knew that you wouldcome to our aid. So true a knight must achieve the adventure!'

'Safe, safe, I am blessed and thankful, ' said the Duke, falling on oneknee to kiss her hand. 'How have these robbers treated my Lady?'

'Well, as well as they know how. That good woman has been very kindto us, ' said Eleanor, as she saw Barbe peeping from the stair. 'Comehither, Barbe and Trudchen, to the Lord Duke's mercy. '

They were entering the hall, and, at the same moment, the gates werethrown open, and the men waiting with Gebhardt and Robert Douglas beganto pour in. It was well for Barbe and her daughter that they could takeshelter behind the ladies, for the men were ravenous for some prize, orsomething to wreak their excitement upon, besides the bare walls of thecastle, and its rude stores of meal and beer. The old Baron was hauleddown from his bed by half-a-dozen men, and placed before the Duke withbound hands. 

'Hola, Siege!' said he in German, all unabashed. 'You have got me atlast--by a trick! I always bade Rudiger look to that quarry; but youngmen think they know best. '

'The old traitor!' said George in French. 'Hang him from his tower for awarning to his like, as we should do in Scotland. '

'What cause have you to show why we should not do as saith the knight?'said Sigismund. 

'I care little how it goes with my old carcase now, ' returnedBalchenburg, in the spirit of the Amalekite of old. 'I only mourn thatI shall not be there to see the strife you will breed with thelute-twanger or his fellows at Nanci. '

Gebhardt here gave his opinion that it would be wise to reserve the oldman for King Rene's justice, so as to obviate all peril of dissension. The small garrison, to be left in the castle under the most prudentknight whom Gebhardt could select, were instructed only to professto hold it till the Lords of Alsace and Lorraine should jointly havedetermined what was to be done with it. 

It was not expedient to tarry there long. A hurried meal was made, andthen the victors set out on the descent. George had found his good steedin the stables, together with the ladies' palfreys, and there had beengreat joy in the mutual recognition; but Jean's horse was found to showtraces of its fall, and her arm was not yet entirely recovered, so thatshe was seated on Ringan's sure-footed pony, with the new-made knightwalking by her side to secure its every step, though Ringan grumbledthat Sheltie would be far safer if left to his own wits. 

Sigismund was proposing to make for Sarrebourg, when the glitteringof lances was seen in the distance, and the troop was drawn closelytogether, for the chance that, as had been already thought probable, some of the Lorrainers had risen as to war and invasion. However, thebanner soon became distinguishable, with the many quarterings, showingthat King Rene was there in person; and Sigismund rode forward to greethim and explain. 

The chivalrous King was delighted with the adventure, only wishing hehad shared in the rescue of the captive princesses. 'Young blood, ' hesaid. 'Youth has all the guerdons reserved for it, while age is laggingbehind. '

Yet so soon as Sir Patrick Drummond had overtaken him at Epinal, he hadturned back to Nanci, and it was in consequence of what he there heardthat he had set forth to bring the robbers of Balchenburg to reason. Tohim there was no difficulty in accepting thankfully what some would haveregarded as an aggression on the part of the Duke of Alsace, and thoughold Balchenburg, when led up before him, seemed bent upon aggravatinghim. 'Ha! Sir King, so a young German and a wild Scot have done whatyou, with all your kingdoms, have never had the wit to do. '

'The poor old man is distraught, ' said the King, while Sigismund putin--

'Mayhap because you never ventured on such audacious villainy andoutrecuidance before. '

'Young blood will have its way, ' repeated the old man. 'Nay, I toldthe lad no good would come of it, but he would have it that he had hisbackers, and in sooth that escort played into his hands. Ha! ha! muchwill the fair damsels' royal beau-frere thank you for overthrowing hisplan for disposing of them. '

'Hark you, foul-mouthed fellow, ' said King Rene; 'did I not pity youfor your bereavement and ruin, I should requite that slander of a nobleprince by hanging you on the nearest tree. '

'Your Grace is kindly welcome, ' was the answer. 

Rene and Sigismund, however, took counsel together, and agreed that theold man should, instead of this fate, be relegated to an abbey, where hemight at least have the chance of repenting of his crimes, and be keptin safe custody. 

'That's your mercy, ' muttered the old mountain wolf when he heard theirdecision. 

All this was settled as they rode back along the way where Madame deSte. Petronelle had first become alarmed. She had now quite resumed herauthority and position, and promised protection and employment to Barbeand Trudchen. The former had tears for 'her boy, ' thus cut off in hissins; but it was what she always foreboded for him, and if her oldmaster was not thankful for the grace offered him, she was for him. 

King Rene, who believed not a word against his nephew, intended himselfto conduct the ladies to the Court of his sister, and see them in safetythere. Jean, however, after the first excitement, so drooped as sherode, and was so entirely unable to make answer to all the kindnessaround her, that it was plain that she must rest as soon as possible, and thus hospitality was asked at a little country castle, around whichthe suite encamped. A pursuivant was, however, despatched by Rene tothe French Court to announce the deliverance of the princesses, and SirPatrick sent his son David with the party, that his wife and the poorDauphiness might be fully reassured. 

There was a strange stillness over Chateau le Surry when David rode intriumphantly at the gate. A Scottish archer, who stood on guard, lookedup at him anxiously with the words, 'Is it weel with the lassies?' andon his reply, 'They are sain and safe, thanks, under Heaven, to GeordieDouglas of Angus!' the man exclaimed, 'On, on, sir squire, the saintsgrant ye may not be too late for the puir Dolfine! Ah! but she has beensair misguided. '

'Is my mother here?' asked David. 

'Ay, sir, and with the puir lady. Ye may gang in without question. A'the doors be open, that ilka loon may win in to see a princess die. '

The pursuivant, hearing that the King and Dauphin were no longer in thecastle, rode on to Chalons, but David dismounted, and followed a streamof persons, chiefly monks, friars, and women of the burgher class, upthe steps, and on into the vaulted room, the lower part shut off by arail, against which crowded the curious and only half-awed multitude, who whispered to each other, while above, at a temporary altar, brightwith rows of candles, priests intoned prayers. The atmosphere wasinsufferably hot, and David could hardly push forward; but as heexclaimed in his imperfect French that he came with tidings of Madame'ssisters, way was made, and he heard his mother's voice. 'Is it? Is it myson? Bring him. Oh, quickly!'

He heard a little, faint, gasping cry, and as a lane was opened for him, struggled onwards. In poor Margaret's case the etiquette that banishedthe nearest kin from Royalty in articulo mortis was not much to beregretted. David saw her--white, save for the death-flush called up bythe labouring breath, as she lay upheld in his mother's arms, a priestholding a crucifix before her, a few ladies kneeling by the bed. 

'Good tidings, I see, my son, ' said Lady Drummond. 

'Are--they--here?' gasped Margaret. 

'Alack, not yet, Madame; they will come in a few days' time. ' She gave apiteous sigh, and David could not hear her words. 

'Tell her how and where you found them, ' said his mother. 

David told his story briefly. There was little but a quivering of theheavy eyelids and a clasping of the hands to show whether the dyingwoman marked him, but when he had finished, she said, so low that onlyhis mother heard, 'Safe! Thank God! Nunc dimittis. Who was it--youngAngus?'

'Even so, ' said David, when the question had been repeated to him by hismother. 

'So best!' sighed Margaret. 'Bid the good father give thanks. '

Dame Lilias dismissed her son with a sign. Margaret lay far more serene. For a few minutes there was a sort of hope that the good news mightinspire fresh life, and yet, after the revelation of what her conditionwas in this strange, frivolous, hard-hearted Court, how could life bedesired for her weary spirit? She did not seem to wish--far less tostruggle to wish--to live to see them again; perhaps there was aninstinctive feeling that, in her weariness, there was no power ofrousing herself, and she would rather sink undisturbed than hear of theterror and suffering that she knew but too well her husband had caused. 

Only, when it was very near the last, she said, 'Safe! safe in lealhands. Oh, tell my Jeanie to be content with them--never seek earthlycrowns--ashes--ashes--Elleen--Jeanie--all of them--my love-oh! safe, safe. Now, indeed, I can pardon--'

'Pardon!' said the French priest, catching the word. 'Whom, Madame, theSieur de Tillay?'

Even on the gasping lips there was a semi-smile. 'Tillay--I hadforgotten! Tillay, yes, and another. '

If no one else understood, Lady Drummond did, that the forgiveness wasfor him who had caused the waste and blight of a life that mighthave been so noble and so sweet, and who had treacherously prepared aterrible fate for her young innocent sisters. 

It was all ended now; there was no more but to hear the priest commendthe parting Christian soul, while, with a few more faint breaths, the soul of Margaret of Scotland passed beyond the world of sneers, treachery, and calumny, to the land 'where the wicked cease fromtroubling, and where the weary are at rest. '

CHAPTER 12. SORROW ENDED

 'Done to death by slanderous tongues Was the Hero that here lies: Death, avenger of wrongs, Gives her fame which never dies. ' Much Ado About Nothing. 

A day's rest revived Jean enough to make her eager to push on toChalons, and enough likewise to revive her coquettish and petulanttemper. 

Sigismund and Eleanor might ride on together in a species of paradise, as having not only won each other's love, but acted out a bit of theromance that did not come to full realisation much more often in thosedays than in modern ones. They were quite content to let King Rene gloryin them almost as much as he had arrived at doing in his own daughterand her Ferry, and they could be fully secure; Sigismund had no one'sconsent to ask, save a formal licence from his cousin, the EmperorFrederick III. , who would pronounce him a fool for wedding a pennilessprincess, but had no real power over him; while Eleanor was certain thatall her kindred would feel that she was fulfilling her destiny, and highsweet thoughts of thankfulness and longing to be a blessing to him wholoved her, and to those whom he ruled, filled her spirit as she rodethrough the shady woods and breezy glades, bright with early summer. 

Jean, however, was galled by the thought that every one at home wouldsmile and say that she might have spared her journey, and that, in spiteof all her beauty, she had just ended by wedding the Scottish laddiewhom she had scorned. True, her heart knew that she loved him and noneother, and that he truly merited her; but her pride was not willing thathe should feel that he had earned her as a matter of course, and she wasquite as ungracious to Sir George Douglas, the Master of Angus, asever she had been to Geordie of the Red Peel, and she showed all thepetulance of a semi-convalescent. She would not let him ride beside her, his horse made her palfrey restless, she said; and when King Rene talkedabout her true knight, she pretended not to understand. 

'Ah!' he said, 'be consoled, brave sire; we all know it is the part ofthe fair lady to be cruel and merciless. Let me sing you a roman bothsad and true!'

Which good-natured speech simply irritated George beyond bearing. 'Thedaft old carle, ' muttered he to Sir Patrick, 'why cannot he let me gangmy ain gate, instead of bringing all their prying eyes on me? If Jeancasts me off the noo, it will be all his fault. '

These small vexations, however, soon faded out of sight when thedrooping, half-hoisted banner was seen on the turrets of Chateau leSurry, and the clang of a knell came slow and solemn on the wind. 

No one was at first visible, but probably a warder had announced theirapproach, for various figures issued from the gateway, some coming upto Rene, and David Drummond seeking his father. The tidings were in onemoment made known to the two poor girls--a most sudden shock, for theyhad parted with their sister in full health, as they thought, and SirPatrick had only supposed her to have been chilled by the thunderstorm. Yet Eleanor's first thought was, 'Ah! I knew it! Would that I hadclung closer to her and never been parted. ' But the next moment she wasstartled by a cry--Jean had slid from her horse, fainting away in GeorgeDouglas's arms. 

Madame de Ste. Petronelle was at hand, and the Lady of Glenuskie quicklyon the spot; and they carried her into the hall, where she revived, and soon was in floods of tears. These were the days when violentdemonstration was unchecked and admired as the due of the deceased, andall stood round, weeping with her. King Charles himself leaning forwardto wring her hands, and cry, 'My daughter, my good daughter!' As soonas the first tempest had subsided, the King supported Eleanor to thechapel, where, in the midst of rows of huge wax candles, Margaret laywith placid face, and hands clasped over a crucifix, as if on a tomb, the pall that covered all except her face embellished at the sides withthe blazonry of France and Scotland. Her husband, with his thin handsclasped, knelt by her head, and requiems were being sung around byrelays of priests. There was fresh weeping and wailing as the sisterscast sprinklings of holy water on her, and then Jean, sinking down quiteexhausted, was supported away to a chamber where the sisters could hearthe story of these last sad days from Lady Drummond. 

The solemnities of Margaret's funeral took their due course--a lengthyone, and then, or rather throughout, there was the consideration whatwas to come next. Too late, all the Court seemed to have wakened toregret for Margaret. She had been open-handed and kindly, and theattendants had loved her, while the ladies who had gossiped about herhabits now found occupation for their tongues in indignation againstwhosoever had aspersed her discretion. The King himself, who had alwaysbeen lazily fond of the belle fille who could amuse him, was stirred, perhaps by Rene, into an inquiry into the scandalous reports, the resultof which was that Jamet de Tillay was ignominiously banished from theCourt, and Margaret's fair fame vindicated, all too late to save herheart from breaking. The displeasure that Charles expressed to his sonin private on the score of poor Margaret's wrongs, is, in fact, believedto have been the beginning of the breach which widened continually, tillfinally the unhappy father starved himself to death in a morbid dread ofbeing poisoned by his son. 

However, for the present, the two Scottish princesses reaped the fullbenefit of all the feeling for their sister. The King and Queen calledthem their dearest daughters, and made all sorts of promises of marryingand endowing them, and Louis himself went outwardly through all theforms of mourning and devotion, and treated his two fair sisters withextreme civility, such as they privately declared they could hardlybear, when they recollected how he had behaved before Margaret. 

Jean in especial flouted him with all the sharpness and pertness ofwhich she was capable; but do what she would, he received it all with asmiling indifference and civility which exasperated her all the more. 

The Laird and Lady of Glenuskie were in some difficulty. They could notwell be much longer absent from Scotland, and yet Lilias had promisedthe poor Dauphiness not to leave her sisters except in some security. Eleanor's fate was plain enough, Sigismund followed her about as herbetrothed, and the only question was whether, during the period ofmourning, he should go back to his dominions to collect a trainworthy of his marriage with a king's daughter; but this he was plainlyreluctant to do. Besides the unwillingness of a lover to lose sight ofhis lady, the catastrophe that had befallen the sisters might wellleave a sense that they needed protection. Perhaps, too, he might expectmurmurs at his choice of a dowerless princess from his vassals of theTirol. 

At any rate, he lingered and accompanied the Court to Tours, where inthe noble old castle the winter was to be spent. 

There Sir Patrick and his wife were holding a consultation. Their meanswere well-nigh exhausted. What they had collected for their journeywas nearly spent, and so was the sum with which Cardinal Beaufort hadfurnished his nieces. It was true that Eleanor and Jean were reckonedas guests of the French King, and the knight and lady and attendants aspart of their suite; but the high proud Scottish spirits could notbe easy in this condition, and they longed to depart, while still byselling the merely ornamental horses and some jewels they could paytheir journey. But then Jean remained a difficulty. To take her back toScotland was the most obvious measure, where she could marry George ofAngus as soon as the mourning was ended. 

'Even if she will have him, ' said Dame Lilias, 'I doubt me whether herproud spirit will brook to go home unwedded. '

'Dost deem the lassie is busking herself for higher game? That were anevil requital for his faithful service and gallant daring. '

'I cannot tell, ' said Lilias. 'The maid has always been kittle to dealwith. I trow she loves Geordie in her inmost heart, but she canna tholeto feel herself bound to him, and it irks her that when her sisters arewedded to sovereign princes, she should gang hame to be gudewife to amere Scots Earl's son. '

'The proud unthankful peat! Leave her to gang her ain gate, Lily. Andyet she is a bonny winsome maid, that I canna cast off. '

'Nor I, Patie, and I have gi'en my word to her sister. Yet gin someprince cam' in her way, I'd scarce give much for Geordie's chance. '

'The auld king spake once to me of his younger son, the Duke of Berry, as they call him, ' said Sir Patrick; 'but the Constable told me that wasall froth, the young duke must wed a princess with a tocher. '

'I trust none will put it in our Jeanie's light brain, ' sighed Lily, 'orshe will be neither to have nor to hold. '

The consultation was interrupted by the sudden bursting in of Jeanherself. She flew up to her friends with outstretched hands, and hid herface in Lilias's lap. 

'Oh, cousins, cousins! tak' me away out of his reach. He has been thedeath of poor Meg, now he wants to be mine. '

They could not understand her at first, and indeed shame as well asdismay made her incoherent--for what had been proposed to her was atthat time unprecedented. It is hard to believe it, yet French historiansaver that the Dauphin Louis actually thought of obtaining a dispensationfor marrying her. In the unsettled condition of the Church, when itwas divided by the last splinterings, as it were, of the great schism, perhaps the astute Louis deemed that any prince might obtain anythingfrom whichever rival Pope he chose to acknowledge, though it wasreserved for Alexander Borgia to grant the first licence of this kind. To Jean the idea was simply abhorrent, alike as regarded her instinctsand for the sake of the man himself. His sneering manner towards hersister had filled her with disgust and indignation, and he had, in thosedays, been equally contemptuous towards herself--besides which she wasaware of his share in her capture by Balchenburg, and whispers had notrespected the manner in which his silence had fostered the slanders thathad broken Margaret's heart. 

'I would sooner wed a viper!' she said. 

What was Louis's motive it is very hard to guess. Perhaps there was somereal admiration of Jean's beauty, and it seems to have been his desirethat his wife should be a nonentity, as was shown in his subsequentchoice of Charlotte of Savoy. Now Jean was in feature very like hersister Isabel, Duchess of Brittany, who was a very beautiful woman, butnot far from being imbecile, and Louis had never seen Jean display anysuperiority of intellect or taste like Margaret or Eleanor, but ratherimpatience of their pursuits, and he therefore might expect her to beequally simple with the other sister. However that might be, SirPatrick was utterly incredulous; but when his wife asked Madame Ste. Petronelle's opinion, she shook her head, and said the Sire Dauphin wasa strange ower cannie chiel, and advised that Maitre Jaques Coeur shouldbe consulted. 

'Who may he be?'

'Ken ye not Jaques Coeur? The great merchant of Bourges--the man towhom, above all others, France owes it that we be not under the Englishyoke. The man, I say, for it was the poor Pucelle that gave the firstmove, and ill enough was her reward, poor blessed maiden as she was. Asaint must needs die a martyr's death, and they will own one of thesedays that such she was! But it was Maitre Coeur that stirred the Kingand gave him the wherewithal to raise his men--lending, they called it, but it was out of the free heart of a true Frenchman who never looked tosee it back again, nor even thanks for it!'

'A merchant?' asked Sir Patrick. 

'Ay, the mightiest merchant in the realm. You would marvel to see hishouse at Bourges. It would fit a prince! He has ships going to Egypt andAfrica, and stores of silk enough to array all the dames and demoisellesin France! Jewels fit for an emperor, perfumes like a very grove ofcamphire. Then he has mines of silver and copper, and the King has givenhim the care of the coinage. Everything prospers that he sets his handto, and he well deserves it, for he is an honest man where honest menare few. '

'Is he here?'

'Yea; I saw his green hood crossing the court of the castle this verynoon. The King can never go on long without him, though there are thosethat so bate him that I fear he may have a fall one of these days. Methinks I heard that he ay hears his morning mass when here at thelittle chapel of St. James, close to the great shrine of St. Martin, atsix of the clock in the morning, so as to be private. You might find himthere, and whatever he saith to you will be sooth, whether it be as youwould have it, or no. '

On consideration Sir Patrick decided to adopt the lady's advice, andon her side she reflected that it might be well to take care that theinterview did not fail for want of recognition. 

The glorious Cathedral of Tours was standing up dark, but withglittering windows, from the light within deepening the stained glass, and throwing out the beauty of the tracery, while the sky, brighteningin the autumn morning, threw the towers into relief, when, littlerecking of all this beauty, only caring to find the way, Sir Patrick onthe one hand, the old Scots French lady on the other, went their way tothe noble west front, each wrapped in a long cloak, and not knowing oneanother, till their eyes met as they gave each other holy water at thedoor, after the habit of strangers entering at the same time. 

Then Madame de Ste. Petronelle showed the way to the little side chapel, close to the noble apse. There, beneath the six altar-candles, a priestwas hurrying through a mass in a rapid ill-pronounced manner, while, besides his acolyte, worshippers were very few. Only the light fellon the edges of a dark-green velvet cloak and silvered a grizzled headbowed in reverence, and Madame de Ste. Petronelle touched Sir Patrickand made him a significant sign. 

Daylight was beginning to reveal itself by the time the brief servicewas over. Sir Patrick, stimulated by the lady, ventured a few stepsforward, and accosted Maitre Coeur as he rose, and drawing forward hishood was about to leave the church. 

'Beau Sire, a word with you. I am the kinsman and attendant of theScottish King's sisters. '

'Ah! one of them is to be married. My steward is with me. It is to himyou should speak of her wardrobe, ' said Jaques Coeur, an impatient lookstealing over his keen but honest visage. 

'It is not of Duke Sigismund's betrothed that I would speak, ' returnedthe Scottish knight; 'it is of her sister. '

Jaques Coeur's dark eyes cast a rapid glance, as of one who knew not whomight lurk in the recesses of a twilight cathedral. 

'Not here, ' he said, and he led Sir Patrick away with him down theaisle, out into the air, where a number of odd little buildingsclustered round the walls of the cathedral, even leaning against it, heedless of the beauty they marred. 

'By your leave, Father, ' he said, after exchanging salutations with apriest, who was just going out to say his morning's mass, and leavinghis tiny bare cell empty. Here Sir Patrick could incredulously tellhis story, and the merchant could only sigh and own that he feared thatthere was every reason to believe that the intention was real. JaquesCoeur, religiously, was shocked at the idea, and, politically, wishedthe Dauphin to make a more profitable alliance. He whispered that thesooner the lady was out of reach the better, and even offered to advancea loan to facilitate the journey. 

There followed a consultation in the securest place that could bedevised, namely, in the antechamber where Sir Patrick and Lady Drummondslept to guard their young princesses, in the palace at Tours, Jean, Eleanor, and Madame de Ste. Petronelle having a bedroom within. 

Sir Patrick's view was that Jean might take her leave in full stateand honour, leaving Eleanor to marry her Duke in due time; but the girlshuddered at this. 'Oh no, no; he would call himself my brother for thenonce and throw me into some convent! There is nothing for it but tomake it impossible. Sir Patie, fetch Geordie, and tell him, an' he lovesme, to wed me on the spot, and bear me awa' to bonnie Scotland. Wouldthat I had never been beguiled into quitting it. '

'Geordie Douglas! You were all for flouting him a while ago, ' saidEleanor, puzzled. 

'Dinna be sae daft like, Elleen, that was but sport, and--and a maid maynot hold herself too cheap! Geordie that followed me all the way fromhome, and was sair hurt for me, and freed me from yon awsome castle. Oh, could ye trow that I could love ony but he?'

It was not too easy to refrain from saying, 'So that's the end of allyour airs, ' but the fear of making her fly off again withheld LadyDrummond, and even Eleanor. 

George did not lodge in the castle, and Sir Patrick could not sound himtill the morning; but for a long space after the two sisters had laidtheir heads on the pillow Jean was tossing, sometimes sobbing; and toher sister's consolations she replied, 'Oh, Elleen, he can never forgiveme! Why did my hard, dour, ungrateful nature so sport with his lealloving heart? Will he spurn me the now? Geordie, Geordie, I shall neversee your like! It would but be my desert if I were left behind to thattreacherous spiteful prince, --I wad as soon be a mouse in a cat's claw!'

But George of Angus made no doubt. He had won his ladylove at last, andthe only further doubt remained as to how the matter was to be carriedout. Jaques Coeur was consulted again. No priest at Tours would, hethought, dare to perform the ceremony, for fear of after-vengeance ofthe Dauphin; and Sir Patrick then suggested Father Romuald, who had beenlingering in his train waiting to cross the Alps till his Scotch friendsshould have departed and winter be over; but the deed would hardly besafely done within the city. 

The merchant's advice was this: Sir Patrick, his Lady, and the Master ofAngus had better openly take leave of the Court and start on the way toBrittany. No opposition would be made, though if Louis suspected LadyJean's presence in their party, he might close the gates and detainher; Jaques Coeur therefore thought she had better travel separately atfirst. For Eleanor, as the betrothed bride of Sigismund, there was no might therefore remain at Court with the Queen. Jaques Coeur, thegreatest merchant of his day, had just received a large train of waggonsloaded with stuffs and other wares from Bourges, on the way to Nantes, and he proposed that the Lady Jean should travel with one attendantfemale in one of these, passing as the wife and daughter of the foreman. These two personages had actually travelled to Tours, and were contentto remain there, while their places were taken by Madame de Ste. Petronelle and Jean. 

We must not describe the parting of the sisters, nor the many messagessent by Elleen to bonny Scotland, and the brothers and sisters she waswilling to see no more for the sake of her Austrian Duke. Of her allthat needs to be said is that she lived and died happy and honoured, delighting him by her flow of wit and poetry, and only regretting thatshe was a childless wife. 

Barbe and Trudchen were to remain in her suite, Barbe still grieving for'her boy, ' and hoping to devote all she could obtain as wage or largesseto masses for his soul, and Trudchen, very happy in the new world, though being broken in with some difficulty to civilised life. 

Having been conveyed by by-streets to the great factory or shop ofMaltre Coeur at Tours, a wonder in itself, though far inferior to hismain establishment at Bourges, Madame de Ste. Petronelle and Jean, withher faithful Skywing nestled under her cloak, were handed by Jaqueshimself to seats in a covered wain, containing provisions for them andalso some more delicate wares, destined for the Duchess of Brittany. Hewas himself in riding gear, and a troop of armed servants awaited him onhorseback. 

'Was he going with them?' Jean asked. 

'Not all the way, ' he said; but he would not part with the lady till hehad resigned her to the charge of the Sire de Glenuskie. The state of should accompany any valuable convoy, that his going with the partywould excite no suspicion. 

So they journeyed on in the wain at the head of a quarter of a mile ofwaggons and pack-horses, slowly indeed, but so steadily that they weresure of a good start before the princess's departure was known to theCourt. 

It was at the evening halt at a conventual grange that they came up withthe rest of the party, and George Douglas spurred forward to meet them, and hold out his eager arms as Jean sprang from the waggon. Wisdomas well as love held that it would be better that Jean should enterBrittany as a wife, so that the Duke might not be bribed or intimidatedinto yielding her to Louis. It was in the little village church, veryearly the next morning, that George Douglas received the reward of hislong patience in the hand of Joanna Stewart, a wiser, less petulant, and more womanly being than the vain and capricious lassie whom he hadfollowed from Scotland two years previously.