Books: The Lances Of Lynwood
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Charlotte M. Yonge >> The Lances Of Lynwood
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"Then it is his uncle who hath brought him?" asked Joan.
"Yes," replied Edward, "he himself brought him to the hall, and even
had the presumption to claim the protection for him that I pledged to
his father, when I deemed far otherwise of this young Eustace."
"What account does he give of the length of time that he has spent
on the road?" asked the Princess.
"Ay, there is the strangest part of the tale," said Fulk Clarenham,
with a sneer, "since he left the poor simple men at Lynwood
believing that he was coming at full speed to seek my Lord the
Prince's protection for the child, a convenient excuse for eluding
the inquiries of justice into his brawls at the funeral, as well
as for the rents which he carried off with him; but somewhat
inconsistent when it is not for five months that he makes his
appearance at Bordeaux, and then in the society of a band of
_routiers_."
"It shall be inquired into," said the Prince.
"Nay, nay, my Lord," said Fulk, "may I pray you of your royal goodness
to press the matter no further. He is still young, and it were a pity
to cast dishonour on a name which has hitherto been honourable. Since
my young cousin is safe, I would desire no more, save to guard him
from his future machinations. For his brother's sake, my Lord, I
would plead with you."
"Little did I think such things of him," said the Prince, "when I
laid knighthood on his shoulder in the battle-field of Navaretta;
yet I remember even then old Chandos chid me for over-hastiness.
Poor old Chandos, he has a rough tongue, but a true heart!"
"And, under favour, I would say," answered Clarenham, "that it
might have been those early-won honours that turned the head of
such a mere youth, so entirely without guidance, or rather, with
the guidance of that dissolute Squire, who, I grieve to observe,
still haunts his footsteps. Knighthood, with nought to maintain
it, is, in truth, a snare."
"Well, I am weary of the subject," said the Prince, leaning back in
his chair. "The boy is safe, and, as you say, Fulk, that is all
that is of importance. Call hither the troubadour that was in the
hall at noon. I would have your opinion of his lay," he added,
turning to his wife.
The indignation may be imagined with which Arthur listened to this
conversation, as he stood on the spot to which Edward had signed to
him to advance, when he presented him to the Princess. He longed
ardently to break in with an angry refutation of the slanders cast
on his uncle, but he was too well trained in the rules of chivalry,
to say nothing of the awful respect with which he regarded the
Prince, to attempt to utter a word, and he could only edge himself
as far away as was possible from Clarenham, and cast at him glances
of angry reproach.
His uneasy movements were interpreted as signs of fatigue and
impatience of restraint by one of the ladies, who was sitting at no
great distance, a very beautiful and graceful maiden, the Lady Maude
Holland, daughter to the Princess of Wales, by her first marriage;
and she kindly held out her hand to him, saying, "Come hither, my
pretty page. You have not learnt to stand stiff and straight, like
one of the supporters of a coat-of-arms. Come hither, and let me
lead you to company better suited to your years."
Arthur came willingly, as there was no more to hear about his uncle;
and besides, it was away from the hateful Clarenham. She led him
across the hall to a tall arched doorway, opening upon a wide and
beautiful garden, filled with the plants and shrubs of the south of
France, and sloping gently down to the broad expanse of the blue
waves of the Garonne. She looked round on all sides, and seeing no
one, made a few steps forward on the greensward, then called aloud,
"Thomas!" no answer, "Edward! Harry of Lancaster!" but still her
clear silvery voice was unheeded, until a servant came from some
other part of the building, and, bowing, awaited her orders. "Where
are Lord Edward and the rest?" she asked.
"Gone forth," the servant believed, "to ride on the open space near
St. Ursula's Convent."
"None left at home?"
"None, noble Lady."
"None," repeated Lady Maude, "save the little Lord Richard, whose
baby company your pageship would hardly esteem. You must try to
endure the quietness of the lady's chamber, unless you would wish
to be at once introduced to the grave master of the Damoiseaux."
At this moment Arthur's eye fell upon a lady who had just emerged
from a long shady alley, up which she had been slowly walking, and
the bright look of recognition which lighted up his face, was so
different from the shy and constrained expression he had hitherto
worn, that Lady Maude remarked it, and following his gaze, said,
"Lady Agnes de Clarenham? Ah yes, she is of kin to you. Let us
go meet her." Then, as they approached, she said, "Here, Agnes, I
have brought you a young cousin of yours, whom the Prince has just
conducted into my mother's chamber, where he bore so rueful a
countenance that I grew pitiful enough to come forth on a bootless
errand after his fellow Damoiseaux, who, it seems, are all out riding.
So I shall even leave him to you, for there is a troubadour in the
hall, whose lay I greatly long to hear."
Away tripped Lady Maude, well pleased to be free from the burthen her
good-nature had imposed on her.
"Arthur," exclaimed Agnes, "what joy to see you! Is your uncle here?"
"Yes," said Arthur, "but oh, Cousin Agnes! if you had been by to hear
the foul slanders which Sir Fulk has been telling the Prince--oh,
Agnes! you would disown him for your brother."
"Arthur," said Agnes, with a voice almost of anguish, "how could he
--why did he tarry so long on the road?"
"How could we come on when the Duke of Brittany himself said it was
certain death or captivity? We were forced to wait for an escort.
And now, Agnes, think of your brother saying that Uncle Eustace
carried off the rents of Lynwood, when every man in the Castle
could swear it was only the money Father Cyril had in keeping for
his inheritance."
"Alas!" said Agnes.
"And the Prince will believe it--the Prince looks coldly on him
already, and my uncle loves the Prince like his own life. Oh, he
will be ready to die with grief! Agnes! Agnes! what is to be
done? But you don't believe it!" he proceeded, seeing that she
was weeping bitterly. "You do not believe it--you promised you
never would! Oh say you do not believe it!"
"I do not, Arthur; I never believed half they said of him; but oh,
that long delay was a sore trial to my confidence, and cruelly
confirmed their tales."
"And think of Fulk, too, hindering the Prince from inquiring, because
he says he would spare my uncle for my father's sake, when the truth
is, he only fears that the blackness of his own designs should be
seen! And Gaston, too, he slandered. Oh, Agnes! Agnes! that there
should be such wickedness, and we able to do nought!"
"Nought but weep and pray!" said Agnes. "And yet I can bear it
better now that you are here. Your presence refutes the worst
accusation, and removes a heavy weight from my mind."
"You distrust him too! I cannot love you if you do."
"Never, never! I only feared some evil had befallen you, and
grieved to see the use made of your absence. Your coming should
make my heart light again."
"Shall I often see you, Cousin Agnes? for there is none else in this
wide Castle that I shall care for."
"Oh yes, Arthur, there are full twenty pages little older than
yourself--Lord Thomas Holland, the Prince's stepson, brother to
the lady that led you to me; little Piers de Greilly, nephew to
the Captal de Buch; young Lord Henry of Lancaster; and the little
Prince Edward himself. You will have no lack of merry playmates."
"Ah, but to whom can I talk of my blessed mother and of Uncle Eustace,
and of Lynwood Keep, and poor old Blanc Etoile, that I promised Ralph
I would bear in mind?"
"Well, Arthur," said Agnes, cheerfully, "it is the pages' duty to wait
on the ladies in hall and bower, and the ladies' office to teach them
all courtly manners, and hear them read and say the Credo and Ave.
You shall be my own especial page and servant. Is it agreed?"
"Oh yes," said the boy. "I wonder if the master of the Damoiseaux
is as strict as that lady said, and I wonder when I shall see Uncle
Eustace again."
CHAPTER XI
If Arthur Lynwood felt desolate when he left his uncle's side, it
was not otherwise with Sir Eustace as he lost sight of the child,
who had so long been his charge, and who repaid his anxiety with
such confiding affection. The coveted fame, favour, and distinction
seemed likewise to have deserted him. The Prince's coldness hung
heavily on him, and as he cast his eyes along the ranks of familiar
faces, not one friendly look cheered him. His greetings were returned
with coldness, and a grave haughty courtesy was the sole welcome.
Chafed and mortified, he made a sign to Gaston, and they were soon
in the street once more.
"Coward clown!" burst forth Gaston at once. "Would that I could
send all his grinning teeth down the false throat of him!"
"Whose? What mean you?"
"Whose but that sulky recreant, Ashton? He has done well to obtain
knighthood, or I would beat him within an inch of his life with my
halbert, and if he dared challenge me, slay him as I would a carrion
crown! He a Knight! Thanks to his acres and to Lord Pembroke!"
"Patience, patience, Gaston--I have not yet heard of what he
accuses me."
"No! he has learnt policy--he saith it not openly! He would deny
it, as did his Esquire when I taxed him with it! Would that you
could not tell a letter! Sir Eustace, of your favour let me burn
every one of your vile books."
"My innocent friends! Nay, nay, Gaston--they are too knightly to
merit such measure. Then it is the old accusation of witchcraft,
I suppose. So I was in league with the Castilian witch and her
cats, was I?"
"Ay; and her broom-stick or her cats wafted you to Lynwood, where
you suddenly stood in the midst of the mourners, borne into the
hall on a howling blast! How I got there, I am sorry to say, the
craven declared not, lest I should give him the lie at once!"
"But surely, such a tale is too absurd and vulgar to deceive our
noble Prince."
"Oh, there is another version for his ears. This is only for the
lower sort, who might not have thought the worse of you for
kidnapping your nephew, vowing his mother should remain unburied
till he was in your hands, and carrying off all his rents."
"That is Clarenham's slander."
"Yes."
"And credited by the Prince? Oh! little did I think the hand which
laid knighthood on my shoulder should repent the boon that it gave!"
exclaimed Eustace, with a burst of sorrow rather than anger.
"Do you not challenge the traitor at once?"
"I trow not, unless he speaks the charge to my face. Father Cyril
declared that any outbreak on my part would damage our cause in the
eyes of the Chancellor; we must bide our time. Since Arthur is
safe, I will bear my own burden. I am guiltless in this matter,
and I trust that the blessing of Heaven on my deeds shall restore
a name, obscured, but not tarnished."
The resolution to forbear was tested, for time passed on without
vindicating him. With such art had the toils of his enemies been
spread, that no opening was left him for demanding an explanation.
The calumnies could only be brought home to the lowest retainers of
Clarenham and Ashton, and the only result of the zealous refutation
by the followers of Sir Eustace was a brawl between John Ingram and
a yeoman of Clarenham's, ending in their spending a week in the
custody of the Provost Marshal.
Had there been any tournament or like sport at Bordeaux, Eustace
could have asserted his place, and challenged the attention of
the court; but the state of the Prince's health prevented such
spectacles; nor had he any opportunity of acquiring honour by his
deeds in arms. No army took the field on either side, and the war
was chiefly carried on by expeditions for the siege or relief of
frontier castles; and here his unusual rank as Knight Banneret
stood in his way, since it was contrary to etiquette for him to put
himself under the command of a Knight Bachelor. He was condemned
therefore to a weary life of inaction, the more galling, because
his poverty made it necessary to seek maintenance as formerly at
the Prince's table, where he was daily reminded, by the altered
demeanour of his acquaintance, of the unjust suspicions beneath
which he laboured. He had hoped that a dismissal from his post
in the Prince's band would give him the much-desired opportunity
of claiming a hearing, but he was permitted to receive his pay and
allowance as usual, and seemed completely overlooked. It was
well that Gaston's gay temper could not easily be saddened by
their circumstances, and his high spirits and constant attachment
often cheered his Knight in their lonely evenings. Eustace had
more than once striven to persuade him to forsake his failing
fortunes; but to this the faithful Squire would never consent,
vowing that he was as deeply implicated in all their accusations
as Sir Eustace himself; and who would wish to engage a fellow-
servant of the black cats! There were two others whom Eustace
would fain believe still confided in his truth and honour, his
nephew Arthur, and Lady Agnes de Clarenham; but he never saw them,
and often his heart sank at the thought of the impression that the
universal belief might make on the minds of both. And to add to
his depression, a rumour prevailed throughout Bordeaux that the
Baron of Clarenham had promised his sister's hand to Sir Leonard
Ashton.
Nearly a year had passed since Eustace had left England, and his
situation continued unchanged. Perhaps the Prince regarded him
with additional displeasure, since news had arrived that Sir
Richard Ferrars had made application to the Duke of Lancaster to
interest the King in the cause of the guardianship; for there was,
at this time, a strong jealousy, in the mind of the Prince, of the
mighty power and influence of John of Gaunt, which he already feared
might be used to the disadvantage of his young sons.
The cause was, at length, decided, and a letter from good Father
Cyril conveyed to Eustace the intelligence that the Chancellor,
William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, having given due weight
to Sir Reginald's dying words and Lady Lynwood's testament, had
pronounced Sir Eustace Lynwood the sole guardian of the person and
estate of his nephew, and authorized all the arrangements he had
made on his departure.
Affairs altogether began to wear a brighter aspect. The first
indignation against Sir Eustace had subsided, and he was treated,
in general, with indifference rather than marked scorn. The
gallant old Chandos was again on better terms with the Prince,
and, coming to Bordeaux, made two or three expeditions, in which
Eustace volunteered to join, and gained some favourable, though
slight, notice from the old Knight. Fulk Clarenham, too, having
received from the Prince the government of Perigord, was seldom
at court, and no active enemy appeared to be at work against him.
Agnes de Clarenham, always retiring and pensive, and seldom sought
out by those who admired gayer damsels, was sitting apart in the
embrasure of a window, whence, through an opening in the trees of
the garden, she could catch a distant glimpse of the blue waters
of the river where it joined the sea, which separated her from her
native land, and from her who had ever been as a mother to her. She
was so lost in thought, that she scarce heard a step approaching,
till the unwelcome sound of "Fair greeting to you, Lady Agnes"
caused her to look up and behold the still more unwelcome form of
Sir Leonard Ashton. To escape from him was the first idea, for his
clownish manners, always unpleasant to her, had become doubly so,
since he had presumed upon her brother's favour to offer to her
addresses from which she saw no escape; and with a brief reply of
"Thanks for your courtesy, Sir Knight," she was about to rise and
mingle with the rest of the party, when he proceeded, bluntly,
"Lady Agnes, will you do me a favour?"
"I know of no favour in my power," said she.
"Nay," he said, "it is easily done, and it is as much to your brother
as to myself. It is a letter which, methinks, Fulk would not have
read out of the family, of which I may call myself one," and he gave
a sort of smirk at Agnes;--"but he writes so crabbedly, that I, for
one, cannot read two lines,--and I would not willingly give it to a
clerk, who might be less secret. So methought, as 'twas the Baron's
affair, I would even bring it here, and profit by your Convent-
breeding, Lady Agnes."
Agnes took the letter, and began to read:--
"For the hand of the Right Noble and Worshipful Knight, Sir
Leonard Ashton, at the court of my Lord the Prince of Wales,
these:--
"Fair Sir, and brother-in-arms--I hereby do you to wit, that the
affair whereof we spoke goes well. Both my Lord of Pembroke,
and Sir John Chandos, readily undertook to move the Prince to
grant the Banneret you wot of the government of the Castle, and
as he hath never forgotten the love he once bore to his brother,
he will the more easily be persuaded. Of the garrison we are
sure, and all that is now needful is, that the one-eyed Squire,
whereof you spoke to me, should receive warning before he
arrives at the Castle.
"Tell him to choose his time, and manage matters so that there
may be no putting to ransom. He will understand my meaning.
"Greeting you well, therefore,
"Fulk, Baron of Clarenham."
"What means this?" exclaimed Agnes, as a tissue of treachery opened
before her eyes.
"Ay, that you may say," said Leonard, his slow brain only fixed upon
Fulk's involved sentences, and utterly unconscious of the horror
expressed in her tone. "How is a man to understand what he would
have me to do? Send to Le Borgne Basque at Chateau Norbelle? Is
that it? Read it to me once again, Lady, for the love of the Saints.
What am I to tell Le Borgne Basque? No putting to ransom, doth he
say? He might be secure enough for that matter--Eustace Lynwood is
little like to ransom himself."
"But what mean you?" said Agnes, eagerly hoping that she had done
her brother injustice in her first horrible thought. "Sir Eustace
Lynwood, if you spake of him, is no prisoner, but is here at Bordeaux."
"He shall not long be so," said Leonard. "Heard you not this very
noon that the Prince bestows on him the government of Chateau Norbelle
on the marches of Gascony? Well, that is the matter treated of in
this letter. Let me see, let me see, how was it to be? Yes, that
is it! It is Le Borgne Basque who is Seneschal. Ay, true, that I
know,--and 'twas he who was to admit Clisson's men."
"Admit Clisson's men!"
"Ay--'tis one of those Castles built by the old Paladin, Renaud de
Montauban, that Eustace used to talk about. I ween he did not
know of this trick that will be played on himself--and all of them
have, they say, certain secret passages leading through the vaults
into the Castle. Le Borgne Basque knows them all, for he has served
much in those parts, and Fulk placed him as Seneschal for the very
purpose."
"For the purpose of admitting Clisson's men? Do I understand you
right, Sir Knight, or do my ears play me false?"
"Yes, I speak right. Do you not see, Lady Agnes, it is the only way
to free your house of this stumbling-block--this beggarly upstart
Eustace--who, as long as he lives, will never acknowledge Fulk's
rights, and would bring up his nephew to the same pride."
"And is it possible, Sir Leonard, that brother of mine, and belted
Knight, should devise so foul a scheme of treachery! Oh, unsay it
again! Let me believe it was my own folly that conjured up so
monstrous a thought!"
"Ay, that is the way with women," said Leonard; "they never look at
the sense of the matter. Why, this Eustace, what terms should be
kept with him, who has dealings with the Evil One? and--"
"I will neither hear a noble Knight maligned, nor suffer him to be
betrayed," interrupted Agnes. "I have listened to you too long,
Sir Leonard Ashton, and will stain my ears no longer. I thank you,
however, for having given me such warning as to enable me to traverse
them."
"What will you do?" asked Leonard, with a look of impotent anger.
"Appeal instantly to the Prince. Tell him the use that is made of
his Castles, and the falsehoods told him of his most true-hearted
Knight!" and Agnes, with glancing eyes, was already rising for the
purpose, forgetting, in her eager indignation, all that must follow,
when Leonard, muttering "What madness possessed me to tell her!"
stood full before her, saying, gloomily, "Do so, Lady, if you
choose to ruin your brother!" The timid girl stood appalled, as
the horrible consequences of such an accusation arose before her.
That same day Eustace was summoned to the Prince's presence.
"Sir Eustace Lynwood," said Edward, gravely, "I hear you have served
the King well beneath the banner of Sir John Chandos. Your friends
have wrought with me to give you occasion to prove yourself worthy
of your spurs, and I have determined to confer on you the government
of my Chateau of Norbelle, on the frontier of Gascony, trusting to
find you a true and faithful governor and Castellane."
"I trust, my Lord, that you have never had occasion to deem less
honourably of me," said Eustace; and his clear open eye and brow
courted rather than shunned the keen look of scrutiny that the
Prince fixed upon him. His heart leapt at the hope that the time
for inquiry was come, but the Prince in another moment sank his
eyes again, with more, however, of the weary impatience of illness
than of actual displeasure, and merely replied, "Kneel down, then,
Sir Knight, and take the oaths of fidelity."
Eustace obeyed, hardly able to suppress a sigh at the disappointment
of his hopes.
"You will receive the necessary orders and supplies from Sir John
Chandos, and from the Treasurer," said Edward, in a tone that
intimated the conclusion of the conference; and Eustace quitted
his presence, scarce knowing whether to be rejoiced or dissatisfied.
The former, Gaston certainly was. "I have often been heartily weary
of garrison duty," said he, "but never can I be more weary of aught,
than of being looked upon askance by half the men I meet. And we
may sometimes hear the lark sing too, as well as the mouse squeak,
Sir Eustace. I know every pass of my native county, and the herds
of Languedoc shall pay toll to us."
Sir John Chandos, as Constable of Aquitaine, gave him the requisite
orders and information. The fortifications, he said, were in good
condition, and the garrison already numerous; but a sum of money
was allotted to him in order to increase their numbers as much as
he should deem advisable, since it was not improbable that he might
have to sustain a siege, as Oliver de Clisson was threatening that
part of the frontier. Four days were allowed for his preparations,
after which he was to depart for his government.
Eustace was well pleased with all that he heard, and returned to
his lodging, where, in the evening twilight, he was deeply engaged
in consultation with Gaston, on the number of followers to be raised,
when a light step was heard hastily approaching, and Arthur, darting
into the room, flung himself on his neck, exclaiming, "Uncle! uncle!
go not to this Castle!"
"Arthur, what brings you here? What means this? No foolish frolic,
no escape from punishment, I trust?" said Eustace, holding him at
some little distance, and fixing his eyes on him intently.
"No, uncle, no! On the word of a true Knight's son," said the boy,
stammering, in his eagerness, "believe me, trust me, dear uncle--
and go not to this fearful Castle. It is a trap--a snare laid to
be your death, by the foulest treachery!"
"Silence, Arthur!" said the Knight, sternly. "Know you not what
treason you speak? Some trick has been played on your simplicity,
and yet you--child as you are--should as soon think shame of your
own father as of the Prince, the very soul of honour."
"Oh, it is not the Prince: he knows nought of it; it is those double
traitors, the Baron of Clarenham and Sir Leonard Ashton, who have
worked upon him and deceived him."
"Oh, ho!" said Gaston. "The story now begins to wear some semblance
of probability."
Arthur turned, looking perplexed. "Master d'Aubricour," said he,
"I forgot that you were here. This is a secret which should have
been for my uncle's ears alone."
"Is it so?" said Gaston; "then I will leave the room, if it please
you and the Knight--though methought I was scarce small enough to
be so easily overlooked; and having heard the half--"
"You had best hear the whole," said Arthur. "Uncle Eustace, what
think you?"
"I know not what to think, Arthur. You must be your own judge."
Arthur's young brow wore a look of deep thought; at last he said,
"Do not go then, Gaston. If I have done wrong, I must bear the
blame, and, be it as it may, my uncle needs must tell you all that
I may tell him."
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