CHAPTER 20
So for a little while Myles was disposed to congratulate himself
upon having come off so well from his adventure with the Earl.
But after a day or two had passed, and he had time for second
thought, he began to misdoubt whether, after all, he might not
have carried it with a better air if he had shown more chivalrous
boldness in the presence of his true lady; whether it would not
have redounded more to his credit if he had in some way asserted
his rights as the young dame's knight- errant and defender. Was
it not ignominious to resign his rights and privileges so easily
and tamely at a signal from the Earl?
"For, in sooth," said he to Gascoyne, as the two talked the
matter over, "she hath, in a certain way, accepted me for her
knight, and yet I stood me there without saying so much as one
single word in her behalf."
"Nay," said Gascoyne, "I would not trouble me on that score.
Methinks that thou didst come off wondrous well out of the
business. I would not have thought it possible that my Lord could
ha' been so patient with thee as he showed himself. Methinks,
forsooth, he must hold thee privily in right high esteem."
"Truly," said Myles, after a little pause of meditative silence,
"I know not of any esteem, yet I do think he was passing patient
with me in this matter. But ne'theless, Francis, that changeth
not my stand in the case. Yea, I did shamefully, so to resign my
lady without speaking one word; nor will I so resign her even
yet. I have bethought me much of this matter of late, Francis,
and now I come to thee to help me from my evil case. I would have
thee act the part of a true friend to me--like that one I have
told thee of in the story of the Emperor Justinian. I would have
thee, when next thou servest in the house, to so contrive that my
Lady Alice shall get a letter which I shall presently write, and
wherein I may set all that is crooked straight again."
"Heaven forbid," said Gascoyne, hastily, "that I should be such a
fool as to burn my fingers in drawing thy nuts from the fire!
Deliver thy letter thyself, good fellow!"
So spoke Gascoyne, yet after all he ended, as he usually did, by
yielding to Myles's superior will and persistence. So the letter
was written and one day the good-natured Gascoyne carried it with
him to the house, and the opportunity offering, gave it to one of
the young ladies attendant upon the Countess's family--a lass
with whom he had friendly intimacy--to be delivered to Lady
Alice.
But if Myles congratulated himself upon the success of this new
adventure, it was not for long. That night, as the crowd of pages
and squires were making themselves ready for bed, the call came
through the uproar for "Myles Falworth! Myles Falworth!"
"Here I be," cried Myles, standing up on his cot. "Who calleth
me?"
It was the groom of the Earl's bedchamber, and seeing Myles
standing thus raised above the others, he came walking down the
length of the room towards him, the wonted hubbub gradually
silencing as he advanced and the youngsters turning, staring, and
wondering.
"My Lord would speak with thee, Myles Falworth," said the groom,
when he had come close enough to where Myles stood. "Busk thee
and make ready; he is at livery even now."
The groom's words fell upon Myles like a blow. He stood for a
while staring wide-eyed. "My Lord speak with me, sayst thou!" he
ejaculated at last.
"Aye," said the other, impatiently; "get thee ready quickly. I
must return anon."
Myles's head was in a whirl as he hastily changed his clothes for
a better suit, Gascoyne helping him. What could the Earl want
with him at this hour? He knew in his heart what it was; the
interview could concern nothing but the letter that he had sent
to Lady Alice that day. As he followed the groom through the now
dark and silent courts, and across the corner of the great
quadrangle, and so to the Earl's house, he tried to brace his
failing courage to meet the coming interview. Nevertheless, his
heart beat tumultuously as he followed the other down the long
corridor, lit only by a flaring link set in a wrought-iron
bracket. Then his conductor lifted the arras at the door of the
bedchamber, whence came the murmuring sound of many voices, and
holding it aside, beckoned him to enter, and Myles passed within.
At the first, he was conscious of nothing but a crowd of people,
and of the brightness of many lighted candles; then he saw that
he stood in a great airy room spread with a woven mat of rushes.
On three sides the walls were hung with tapestry representing
hunting and battle scenes, at the farther end, where the bed
stood, the stone wall of the fourth side was covered with cloth
of blue, embroidered with silver goshawks. Even now, in the ripe
springtime of May, the room was still chilly, and a great fire
roared and crackled in the huge gaping mouth of the stone
fireplace. Not far from the blaze were clustered the greater part
of those present, buzzing in talk, now and then swelled by
murmuring laughter. Some of those who knew Myles nodded to him,
and two or three spoke to him as he stood waiting, whilst the
groom went forward to speak to the Earl; though what they said
and what he answered, Myles, in his bewilderment and trepidation,
hardly knew.
As was said before, the livery was the last meal of the day, and
was taken in bed. It was a simple repast--a manchette, or small
loaf of bread of pure white flour, a loaf of household bread,
sometimes a lump of cheese, and either a great flagon of ale or
of sweet wine, warm and spiced. The Earl was sitting upright in
bed, dressed in a furred dressing-gown, and propped up by two
cylindrical bolsters of crimson satin. Upon the coverlet, and
spread over his knees, was a large wide napkin of linen fringed
with silver thread, and on it rested a silver tray containing the
bread and some cheese. Two pages and three gentlemen were waiting
upon him, and Mad Noll, the jester, stood at the head of the bed,
now and then jingling his bawble and passing some quaint jest
upon the chance of making his master smile. Upon a table near by
were some dozen or so waxen tapers struck upon as many spiked
candlesticks of silver-gilt, and illuminating that end of the
room with their bright twinkling flames. One of the gentlemen was
in the act of serving the Earl with a goblet of wine, poured from
a silver ewer by one of the squires, as the groom of the chamber
came forward and spoke. The Earl, taking the goblet, turned his
head, and as Myles looked, their eyes met. Then the Earl turned
away again and raised the cup to his lips, while Myles felt his
heart beat more rapidly than ever.
But at last the meal was ended, and the Earl washed his hands and
his mouth and his beard from a silver basin of scented water held
by another one of the squires. Then, leaning back against the
pillows, he beckoned to Myles.
In answer Myles walked forward the length of the room, conscious
that all eyes were fixed upon him. The Earl said something, and
those who stood near drew back as he came forward. Then Myles
found himself standing beside the bed, looking down upon the
quilted counterpane, feeling that the other was gazing fixedly at
him.
"I sent for thee," said the Earl at last, still looking steadily
at him, "because this afternoon came a letter to my hand which
thou hadst written to my niece, the Lady Alice. I have it here,"
said he, thrusting his hand under the bolster, "and have just now
finished reading it." Then, after a moment's pause, whilst he
opened the parchment and scanned it again, "I find no matter of
harm in it, but hereafter write no more such." He spoke entirely
without anger, and Myles looked up in wonder. "Here, take it,"
said the Earl, folding the letter and tossing it to Myles, who
instinctively caught it, "and henceforth trouble thou my niece no
more either by letter or any other way. I thought haply thou
wouldst be at some such saucy trick, and I made Alice promise to
let me know when it happed. Now, I say, let this be an end of the
matter. Dost thou not know thou mayst injure her by such witless
folly as that of meeting her privily, and privily writing to
her?"
"I meant no harm," said Myles.
"I believe thee," said the Earl. "That will do now; thou mayst
go."
Myles hesitated.
"What wouldst thou say?" said Lord Mackworth.
"Only this," said Myles, "an I have thy leave so to do, that the
Lady Alice hath chosen me to be her knight, and so, whether I may
see her or speak with her or no, the laws of chivalry give me,
who am gentle born, the right to serve her as a true knight may."
"As a true fool may," said the Earl, dryly. "Why, how now, thou
art not a knight yet, nor anything but a raw lump of a boy. What
rights do the laws of chivalry give thee, sirrah? Thou art a
fool!"
Had the Earl been ever so angry, his words would have been less
bitter to Myles than his cool, unmoved patience; it mortified his
pride and galled it to the quick.
"I know that thou dost hold me in contempt," he mumbled.
"Out upon thee!" said the Earl, testily. "Thou dost tease me
beyond patience. I hold thee in contempt, forsooth! Why, look
thee, hadst thou been other than thou art, I would have had thee
whipped out of my house long since. Thinkest thou I would have
borne so patiently with another one of ye squires had such an one
held secret meeting with my daughter and niece, and tampered, as
thou hast done, with my household, sending through one of my
people that letter? Go to; thou art a fool, Myles Falworth!"
Myles stood staring at the Earl without making an effort to
speak. The words that he had heard suddenly flashed, as it were,
a new light into his mind. In that flash he fully recognized, and
for the first time, the strange and wonderful forbearance the
great Earl had shown to him, a poor obscure boy. What did it
mean? Was Lord Mackworth his secret friend, after all, as
Gascoyne had more than once asserted? So Myles stood silent,
thinking many things.
Meantime the other lay back upon the cylindrical bolsters,
looking thoughtfully at him. "How old art thou?" said he at last.
"Seventeen last April," answered Myles.
"Then thou art old enough to have some of the thoughts of a man,
and to lay aside those of a boy. Haply thou hast had foolish
things in thy head this short time past; it is time that thou put
them away. Harkee, sirrah! the Lady Alice is a great heiress in
her own right, and mayst command the best alliance in England--an
Earl--a Duke. She groweth apace to a woman, and then her kind
lieth in Courts and great houses. As for thee, thou art but a
poor lad, penniless and without friends to aid thee to open
advancement. Thy father is attainted, and one whisper of where he
lieth hid would bring him thence to the Tower, and haply to the
block. Besides that, he hath an enemy, as Sir James Lee hath
already told thee--an enemy perhaps more great and powerful than
myself. That enemy watcheth for thy father and for thee; shouldst
thou dare raise thy head or thy fortune ever so little, he would
haply crop them both, and that parlously quick. Myles Falworth,
how dost thou dare to lift thine eyes to the Lady Alice de
Mowbray?"
Poor Myles stood silent and motionless. "Sir," said he at last,
in a dry choking voice, "thou art right, and I have been a fool.
Sir, I will never raise mine eyes to look upon the Lady Alice
more."
"I say not that either, boy," said the Earl; "but ere thou dost
so dare, thou must first place thyself and thy family whence ye
fell. Till then, as thou art an honest man, trouble her not. Now
get thee gone.
As Myles crossed the dark and silent courtyards, and looked up at
the clear, still twinkle of the stars, he felt a kind of dull
wonder that they and the night and the world should seem so much
the same, and he be so different.
The first stroke had been given that was to break in pieces his
boyhood life--the second was soon to follow.
