CHAPTER VII.
THE FEAR AND THE FLIGHT.
King Edward feasted high, and Sibyll sat in her father's chamber,--she
silent with thought of love, Adam silent in the toils of science. The
Eureka was well-nigh finished, rising from its ruins more perfect,
more elaborate, than before. Maiden and scholar, each seeming near to
the cherished goal,--one to love's genial altar, the other to fame's
lonely shrine.
Evening advanced, night began, night deepened. King Edward's feast
was over, but still in his perfumed chamber the wine sparkled in the
golden cup. It was announced to him that Sir Marmaduke Nevile, just
arrived from the earl's house, craved an audience. The king, pre-
occupied in deep revery, impatiently postponed it till the morrow.
"To-morrow," said the gentleman in attendance, "Sir Marmaduke bids me
say, fearful that the late hour would forbid his audience, that Lord
Warwick himself will visit your Grace. I fear, sire, that the
disturbances are great indeed, for the squires and gentlemen in Lady
Anne's train have orders to accompany her to Calais to-morrow."
"To-morrow, to-morrow!" repeated the king--"well, sir, you are
dismissed."
The Lady Anne (to whom Sibyll had previously communicated the king's
kindly consideration for Master Warner) had just seen Marmaduke, and
learned the new dangers that awaited the throne and the realm. The
Lancastrians were then openly in arms for the prince of her love, and
against her mighty father!
The Lady Anne sat a while, sorrowful and musing, and then, before yon
crucifix, the Lady Anne knelt in prayer. Sir Marmaduke Nevile
descends to the court below, and some three or four busy, curious
gentlemen, not yet a-bed, seize him by the arm, and pray him to say
what storm is in the wind.
The night deepened still. The wine is drained in King Edward's
goblet; King Edward has left his chamber; and Sibyll, entreating her
father, but in vain, to suspend his toil, has kissed the damps from
his brow, and is about to retire to her neighbouring room. She has
turned to the threshold, when, hark! a faint--a distant cry, a woman's
shriek, the noise of a clapping door! The voice--it is the voice of
Anne! Sibyll passed the threshold, she is in the corridor; the winter
moon shines through the open arches, the air is white and cold with
frost. Suddenly the door at the farther end is thrown wide open, a
form rushes into the corridor, it passes Sibyll, halts, turns round.
"Oh, Sibyll!" cried the Lady Anne, in a voice wild with horror, "save
me--aid--help! Merciful Heaven, the king!"
Instinctively, wonderingly, tremblingly, Sibyll drew Anne into the
chamber she had just quitted, and as they gained its shelter, as Anne
sank upon the floor, the gleam of cloth-of-gold flashed through the
dim atmosphere, and Edward, yet in the royal robe in which he had
dazzled all the eyes at his kingly feast, stood within the chamber.
His countenance was agitated with passion, and its clear hues flushed
red with wine. At his entrance Anne sprang from the floor, and rushed
to Warner, who, in dumb bewilderment, had suspended his task, and
stood before the Eureka, from which steamed and rushed the dark, rapid
smoke, while round and round, labouring and groaning, rolled its fairy
wheels. [The gentle reader will doubtless bear in mind that Master
Warner's complicated model had but little resemblance to the models of
the steam-engine in our own day, and that it was usually connected
with other contrivances, for the better display of the principle it
was intended to illustrate.]
"Sir," cried Anne, clinging to him convulsively, "you are a father; by
your child's soul, protect Lord Warwick's daughter!"
Roused from his abstraction by this appeal, the poor scholar wound his
arm round the form thus clinging to him, and raising his head with
dignity, replied, "Thy name, youth, and sex protect thee!"
"Unhand that lady, vile sorcerer," exclaimed the king, "I am her
protector. Come, Anne, sweet Anne, fair lady, thou mistakest,--come!"
he whispered. "Give not to these low natures matter for guesses that
do but shame thee. Let thy king and cousin lead thee back to thy
sweet rest."
He sought, though gently, to loosen the arms that wound themselves
round the old man; but Anne, not heeding, not listening, distracted by
a terror that seemed to shake her whole frame and to threaten her very
reason, continued to cry out loudly upon her father's name,--her great
father, wakeful, then, for the baffled ravisher's tottering throne!
Edward had still sufficient possession of his reason to be alarmed
lest some loiterer or sentry in the outer court might hear the cries
which his attempts to soothe but the more provoked. Grinding his
teeth, and losing patience, he said to Adam, "Thou knowest me,
friend,--I am thy king. Since the Lady Anne, in her bewilderment,
prefers thine aid to mine, help to bear her back to her apartment; and
thou, young mistress, lend thine arm. This wizard's den is no fit
chamber for our high-born guest."
"No, no; drive me not hence, Master Warner--that man--that king--give
me not up to his--his--"
"Beware!" exclaimed the king.
It was not till now that Adam's simple mind comprehended the true
cause of Anne's alarm, which Sibyll still conjectured not, but stood
trembling by her friend's side, and close to her father.
"Do not fear, maiden;" said Adam Warner, laying his hand upon the
loosened locks that swept over his bosom, "for though I am old and
feeble, God and his angels are in every spot where virtue trembles and
resists. My lord king, thy sceptre extends not over a human soul!"
"Dotard, prate not to me!" said Edward, laying his hand on his dagger.
Sibyll saw the movement, and instinctively placed herself between her
father and the king. That slight form, those pure, steadfast eyes,
those features, noble at once and delicate, recalled to Edward the awe
which had seized him in his first dark design; and again that awe came
over him. He retreated.
"I mean harm to none," said he, almost submissively; "and if I am so
unhappy as to scare with my presence the Lady Anne, I will retire,
praying you, donzell, to see to her state, and lead her back to her
chamber when it so pleases herself. Saying this much, I command you,
old man, and you, maiden, to stand back while I but address one
sentence to the Lady Anne."
With these words he gently advanced to Anne, and took her hand; but,
snatching it from him, the poor lady broke from Adam, rushed to the
casement, opened it, and seeing some figures indistinct and distant in
the court below, she called out in a voice of such sharp agony that it
struck remorse and even terror into Edward's soul.
"Alas!" he muttered, "she will not listen to me! her mind is
distraught! What frenzy has been mine! Pardon--pardon, Anne,--oh,
pardon!"
Adam Warner laid his hand on the king's arm, and he drew the imperious
despot away as easily as a nurse leads a docile child.
"King!" said the brave old man, "may God pardon thee; for if the last
evil hath been wrought upon this noble lady, David sinned not more
heavily than thou."
"She is pure, inviolate,--I swear it!" said the king, humbly. "Anne,
only say that I am forgiven."
But Anne spoke not: her eyes were fixed, her lips had fallen; she was
insensible as a corpse,--dumb and frozen with her ineffable dread.
Suddenly steps were heard upon the stairs; the door opened, and
Marmaduke Nevile entered abruptly.
"Surely I heard my lady's voice,--surely! What marvel this?--the
king! Pardon, my liege!" and he bent his knee.
The sight of Marmaduke dissolved the spell of awe and repentant
humiliation which had chained a king's dauntless heart. His wonted
guile returned to him with his self-possession.
"Our wise craftsman's strange and weird invention"--and Edward pointed
to the Eureka--"has scared our fair cousin's senses, as, by sweet
Saint George, it well might! Go back, Sir Marmaduke, we will leave
Lady Anne for the moment to the care of Mistress Sibyll. Donzell,
remember my command. Come, sir"--(and he drew the wondering Marmaduke
from the chamber); but as soon as he had seen the knight descend the
stairs and regain the court, he returned to the room, and in a low,
stern voice, said, "Look you, Master Warner, and you, damsel, if ever
either of ye breathe one word of what has been your dangerous fate to
hear and witness, kings have but one way to punish slanderers, and
silence but one safeguard!--trifle not with death!"
He then closed the door, and resought his own chamber. The Eastern
spices, which were burned in the sleeping-rooms of the great, still
made the air heavy with their feverish fragrance. The king seated
himself, and strove to recollect his thoughts, and examine the peril
he had provoked. The resistance and the terror of Anne had
effectually banished from his heart the guilty passion it had before
harboured; for emotions like his, and in such a nature, are quick of
change. His prevailing feeling was one of sharp repentance and
reproachful shame. But as he roused himself from a state of mind
which light characters ever seek to escape, the image of the dark-
browed earl rose before him, and fear succeeded to mortification; but
even this, however well-founded, could not endure long in a
disposition so essentially scornful of all danger. Before morning the
senses of Anne must return to her. So gentle a bosom could be surely
reasoned out of resentment, or daunted, at least, from betraying to
her stern father a secret that, if told, would smear the sward of
England with the gore of thousands. What woman will provoke war and
bloodshed? And for an evil not wrought, for a purpose not fulfilled?
The king was grateful that his victim had escaped him. He would see
Anne before the earl could, and appease her anger, obtain her silence!
For Warner and for Sibyll, they would not dare to reveal; and, if they
did, the lips that accuse a king soon belie themselves, while a rack
can torture truth, and the doomsman be the only judge between the
subject and the head that wears a crown.
Thus reasoning with himself, his soul faced the solitude. Meanwhile
Marmaduke regained the courtyard, where, as we have said, he had been
detained in conferring with some of the gentlemen in the king's
service, who, hearing that he brought important tidings from the earl,
had abstained from rest till they could learn if the progress of the
new rebellion would bring their swords into immediate service.
Marmaduke, pleased to be of importance, had willingly satisfied their
curiosity, as far as he was able, and was just about to retire to his
own chamber, when the cry of Anne had made him enter the postern-door
which led up the stairs to Adam's apartment, and which was fortunately
not locked; and now, on returning, he had again a new curiosity to
allay. Having briefly said that Master Warner had taken that untoward
hour to frighten the women with a machine that vomited smoke and
howled piteously, Marmaduke dismissed the group to their beds, and was
about to seek his own, when, looking once more towards the casement,
he saw a white hand gleaming in the frosty moonlight, and beckoning to
him.
The knight crossed himself, and reluctantly ascended the stairs, and
re-entered the wizard's den.
The Lady Anne had so far recovered herself, that a kind of unnatural
calm had taken possession of her mind, and changed her ordinary sweet
and tractable nature into one stern, obstinate resolution,--to escape,
if possible, that unholy palace. And as soon as Marmaduke re-entered,
Anne met him at the threshold, and laying her hand convulsively on his
arm, said, "By the name you bear, by your love to my father, aid me to
quit these walls."
In great astonishment, Marmaduke stared, without reply. "Do you deny
me, sir?" said Anne, almost sternly.
"Lady and mistress mine," answered Marmaduke, "I am your servant in
all things. Quit these walls, the palace!--How?--the gates are
closed. Nay, and what would my lord say, if at night--"
"If at night!" repeated Anne, in a hollow voice; and then pausing,
burst into a terrible laugh. Recovering herself abruptly, she moved
to the door, "I will go forth alone, and trust in God and Our Lady."
Sibyll sprang forward to arrest her steps, and Marmaduke hastened to
Adam, and whispered, "Poor lady, is her mind unsettled? Hast thou, in
truth, distracted her with thy spells and glamour?"
"Hush!" answered the old man; and he whispered in Nevile's ear.
Scarcely had the knight caught the words, than his cheek paled, his
eyes flashed fire. "The great earl's daughter!" he exclaimed.
"Infamy--horror--she is right!" He broke from the student, approached
Anne, who still struggled with Sibyll, and kneeling before her, said,
in a voice choked with passions at once fierce and tender,--
"Lady, you are right. Unseemly it may be for one of your quality and
sex to quit this place with me, and alone; but at least I have a man's
heart, a knight's honour. Trust to me your safety, noble maiden, and
I will cut your way, even through yon foul king's heart, to your great
father's side!"
Anne did not seem quite to understand his words; but she smiled on him
as he knelt, and gave him her hand. The responsibility he had assumed
quickened all the intellect of the young knight. As he took and
kissed the hand extended to him, he felt the ring upon his finger,--
the ring intrusted to him by Alwyn, the king's signet-ring, before
which would fly open every gate. He uttered a joyous exclamation,
loosened his long night-cloak, and praying Anne to envelop her form in
its folds, drew the hood over her head; he was about to lead her forth
when he halted suddenly.
"Alack," said he, turning to Sibyll, "even though we may escape the
Tower, no boatman now can be found on the river. The way through the
streets is dark and perilous, and beset with midnight ruffians."
"Verily," said Warner, "the danger is past now. Let the noble
demoiselle rest here till morning. The king dare not again--"
"Dare not!" interrupted Marmaduke. "Alas! you little know King
Edward."
At that name Anne shuddered, opened the door, and hurried down the
stairs; Sibyll and Marmaduke followed her.
"Listen, Sir Marmaduke," said Sibyll. "Close without the Tower is the
house of a noble lady, the dame of Longueville, where Anne may rest in
safety, while you seek Lord Warwick. I will go with you, if you can
obtain egress for us both."
"Brave damsel!" said Marmaduke, with emotion; "but your own safety--
the king's anger--no--besides a third, your dress not concealed, would
create the warder's suspicion. Describe the house."
"The third to the left, by the river's side, with an arched porch, and
the fleur-de-lis embossed on the walls."
"It is not so dark but we shall find it. Fare you well, gentle
mistress."
While they yet spoke, they had both reached the side of Anne. Sibyll
still persisted in the wish to accompany her friend; but Marmaduke's
representation of the peril to life itself that might befall her
father, if Edward learned she had abetted Anne's escape, finally
prevailed. The knight and his charge gained the outer gate.
"Haste, haste, Master Warder!" he cried, beating at the door with his
dagger till it opened jealously,--"messages of importance to the Lord
Warwick. We have the king's signet. Open!"
The sleepy warder glanced at the ring; the gates were opened; they
were without the fortress, they hurried on. "Cheer up, noble lady;
you are safe, you shall be avenged!" said Marmaduke, as he felt the
steps of his companion falter. But the reaction had come. The effort
Anne had hitherto made was for escape, for liberty; the strength
ceased, the object gained; her head drooped, she muttered a few
incoherent words, and then sense and life left her. Marmaduke paused
in great perplexity and alarm. But lo, a light in a house before him!
That house the third to the river,--the only one with the arched porch
described by Sibyll. He lifted the light and holy burden in his
strong arms, he gained the door; to his astonishment it was open; a
light burned on the stairs; he heard, in the upper room, the sound of
whispered voices, and quick, soft footsteps hurrying to and fro.
Still bearing the insensible form of his companion, he ascended the
staircase, and entered at once upon a chamber, in which, by a dim
lamp, he saw some two or three persons assembled round a bed in the
recess. A grave man advanced to him, as he paused at the threshold.
"Whom seek you?"
"The Lady Longueville."
"Hush?"
"Who needs me?" said a faint voice, from the curtained recess.
"My name is Nevile," answered Marmaduke, with straightforward brevity.
"Mistress Sibyll Warner told me of this house, where I come for an
hour's shelter to my companion, the Lady Anne, daughter of the Earl of
Warwick."
Marmaduke resigned his charge to an old woman, who was the nurse in
that sick-chamber, and who lifted the hood and chafed the pale, cold
hands of the young maiden; the knight then strode to the recess. The
Lady of Longueville was on the bed of death--an illness of two days
had brought her to the brink of the grave; but there was in her eye
and countenance a restless and preternatural animation, and her voice
was clear and shrill, as she said,--
"Why does the daughter of Warwick, the Yorkist, seek refuge in the
house of the fallen and childless Lancastrian?"
"Swear by thy hopes in Christ that thou will tend and guard her while
I seek the earl, and I reply."
"Stranger, my name is Longueville, my birth noble,--those pledges of
hospitality and trust are stronger than hollow oaths. Say on!"
"Because, then," whispered the knight, after waving the bystanders
from the spot, "because the earl's daughter flies dishonour in a
king's palace, and her insulter is the king!"
Before the dying woman could reply, Anne, recovered by the cares of
the experienced nurse, suddenly sprang to the recess, and kneeling by
the bedside, exclaimed wildly,--"Save me! bide me! save me!"
"Go and seek the earl, whose right hand destroyed my house and his
lawful sovereign's throne,--go! I will live till he arrives!" said
the childless widow, and a wild gleam of triumph shot over her haggard
features.
