CHAPTER 29
That night Myles lodged at Mackworth House. The next morning, as
soon as he had broken his fast, which he did in the privacy of
his own apartments, the Earl bade him and Gascoyne to make ready
for the barge, which was then waiting at the river stairs to take
them to Scotland Yard.
The Earl himself accompanied them, and as the heavy snub-nosed
boat, rowed by the six oarsmen in Mackworth livery, slid slowly
and heavily up against the stream, the Earl, leaning back in his
cushioned seat, pointed out the various inns of the great priests
or nobles; palatial town residences standing mostly a little
distance back from the water behind terraced high-walled gardens
and lawns. Yon was the Bishop of Exeter's Close; yon was the
Bishop of Bath's; that was York House; and that Chester Inn. So
passing by gardens and lawns and palaces, they came at last to
Scotland Yard stairs, a broad flight of marble steps that led
upward to a stone platform above, upon which opened the gate-way
of the garden beyond.
The Scotland Yard of Myles Falworth's day was one of the more
pretentious and commodious of the palaces of the Strand. It took
its name from having been from ancient times the London inn which
the tributary Kings of Scotland occupied when on their periodical
visits of homage to England. Now, during this time of Scotland's
independence, the Prince of Wales had taken up his lodging in the
old palace, and made it noisy with the mad, boisterous mirth of
his court.
As the watermen drew the barge close to the landing-place of the
stairs, the Earl stepped ashore, and followed by Myles and
Gascoyne, ascended to the broad gate-way of the river wall of the
garden. Three men-at-arms who lounged upon a bench under the
shade of the little pent roof of a guard-house beside the wall,
arose and saluted as the well-known figure of the Earl mounted
the steps. The Earl nodded a cool answer, and passing
unchallenged through the gate, led the way up a pleached walk,
beyond which, as Myles could see, there stretched a little grassy
lawn and a stone-paved terrace. As the Earl and the two young men
approached the end of the walk, they were met by the sound of
voices and laughter, the clinking of glasses and the rattle of
dishes. Turning a corner, they came suddenly upon a party of
young gentlemen, who sat at a late breakfast under the shade of a
wide-spreading lime-tree. They had evidently just left the
tilt-yard, for two of the guests--sturdy, thick-set young
knights--yet wore a part of their tilting armor.
Behind the merry scene stood the gray, hoary old palace, a steep
flight of stone steps, and a long, open, stone-arched gallery,
which evidently led to the kitchen beyond, for along it hurried
serving- men, running up and down the tall flight of steps, and
bearing trays and dishes and cups and flagons. It was a merry
sight and a pleasant one. The day was warm and balmy, and the
yellow sunlight fell in waving uncertain patches of light,
dappling the table-cloth, and twinkling and sparkling upon the
dishes, cups, and flagons.
At the head of the table sat a young man some three or four years
older than Myles, dressed in a full suit of rich blue brocaded
velvet, embroidered with gold-thread and trimmed with black fur.
His face, which was turned towards them as they mounted from the
lawn to the little stone-flagged terrace, was frank and open; the
cheeks smooth and fair; the eyes dark and blue. He was tall and
rather slight, and wore his thick yellow hair hanging to his
shoulders, where it was cut square across, after the manner of
the times. Myles did not need to be told that it was the Prince
of Wales.
"Ho, Gaffer Fox!" he cried, as soon as he caught sight of the
Earl of Mackworth, "what wind blows thee hither among us wild
mallard drakes? I warrant it is not for love of us, but only to
fill thine own larder after the manner of Sir Fox among the
drakes. Whom hast thou with thee? Some gosling thou art about to
pluck?"
A sudden hush fell upon the company, and all faces were turned
towards the visitors.
The Earl bowed with a soft smile. "Your Highness," said he,
smoothly, "is pleased to be pleasant. Sir, I bring you the young
knight of whom I spoke to you some time since--Sir Myles
Falworth. You may be pleased to bring to mind that you so
condescended as to promise to take him into your train until the
fitting time arrived for that certain matter of which we spoke."
"Sir Myles," said the Prince of Wales, with a frank, pleasant
smile, "I have heard great reports of thy skill and prowess in
France, both from Mackworth and from others. It will pleasure me
greatly to have thee in my household; more especially," he added,
"as it will get thee, callow as thou art, out of my Lord Fox's
clutches. Our faction cannot do without the Earl of Mackworth's
cunning wits, Sir Myles; ne'theless I would not like to put all
my fate and fortune into his hands without bond. I hope that thou
dost not rest thy fortunes entirely upon his aid and
countenance."
All who were present felt the discomfort of the Prince's speech,
It was evident that one of his mad, wild humors was upon him. In
another case the hare-brained young courtiers around might have
taken their cue from him, but the Earl of Mackworth was no
subject for their gibes and witticisms. A constrained silence
fell, in which the Earl alone maintained a perfect ease of
manner.
Myles bowed to hide his own embarrassment. "Your Highness," said
he, evasively, "I rest my fortune, first of all, upon God, His
strength and justice."
"Thou wilt find safer dependence there than upon the Lord of
Mackworth," said the Prince, dryly. "But come," he added, with a
sudden change of voice and manner, "these be jests that border
too closely upon bitter earnest for a merry breakfast. It is ill
to idle with edged tools. Wilt thou not stay and break thy fast
with us, my Lord?"
"Pardon me, your Highness," said the Earl, bowing, and smiling
the same smooth smile his lips had worn from the first--such a
smile as Myles had never thought to have seen upon his haughty
face; "I crave your good leave to decline. I must return home
presently, for even now, haply, your uncle, his Grace of
Winchester, is awaiting my coming upon the business you wot of.
Haply your Highness will find more joyance in a lusty young
knight like Sir Myles than in an old fox like myself. So I leave
him with you, in your good care."
Such was Myles's introduction to the wild young madcap Prince of
Wales, afterwards the famous Henry V, the conqueror of France.
For a month or more thereafter he was a member of the princely
household, and, after a little while, a trusted and honored
member. Perhaps it was the calm sturdy strength, the courage of
the young knight, that first appealed to the Prince's royal
heart; perhaps afterwards it was the more sterling qualities that
underlaid that courage that drew him to the young man; certain it
was that in two weeks Myles was the acknowledged favorite. He
made no protestation of virtue; he always accompanied the Prince
in those madcap ventures to London, where he beheld all manner of
wild revelry; he never held himself aloof from his gay comrades,
but he looked upon all their mad sports with the same calm gaze
that had carried him without taint through the courts of Burgundy
and the Dauphin. The gay, roistering young lords and gentlemen
dubbed him Saint Myles, and jested with him about hair-cloth
shirts and flagellations, but witticism and jest alike failed to
move Myles's patient virtue; he went his own gait in the habits
of his life, and in so going knew as little as the others of the
mad court that the Prince's growing liking for him was, perhaps,
more than all else, on account of that very temperance.
Then, by-and-by, the Prince began to confide in him as he did in
none of the others. There was no great love betwixt the King and
his son; it has happened very often that the Kings of England
have felt bitter jealousy towards the heirs-apparent as they have
grown in power, and such was the case with the great King Henry
IV. The Prince often spoke to Myles of the clashing and jarring
between himself and his father, and the thought began to come to
Myles's mind by degrees that maybe the King's jealousy accounted
not a little for the Prince's reckless intemperance.
Once, for instance, as the Prince leaned upon, his shoulder
waiting, whilst the attendants made ready the barge that was to
carry them down the river to the city, he said, abruptly: "Myles,
what thinkest thou of us all? Doth not thy honesty hold us in
contempt?"
"Nay, Highness," said Myles. "How could I hold contempt?"
"Marry," said the Prince, "I myself hold contempt, and am not as
honest a man as thou. But, prithee, have patience with me, Myles.
Some day, perhaps, I too will live a clean life. Now, an I live
seriously, the King will be more jealous of me than ever, and
that is not a little. Maybe I live thus so that he may not know
what I really am in soothly earnest."
The Prince also often talked to Myles concerning his own affairs;
of the battle he was to fight for his father's honor, of how the
Earl of Mackworth had plotted and planned to bring him face to
face with the Earl of Alban. He spoke to Myles more than once of
the many great changes of state and party that hung upon the
downfall of the enemy of the house of Falworth, and showed him
how no hand but his own could strike that enemy down; if he fell,
it must be through the son of Falworth. Sometimes it seemed to
Myles as though he and his blind father were the centre of a
great web of plot and intrigue, stretching far and wide, that
included not only the greatest houses of England, but royalty and
the political balance of the country as well, and even before the
greatness of it all he did not flinch.
Then, at last, came the beginning of the time for action. It was
in the early part of May, and Myles had been a member of the
Prince's household for a little over a month. One morning he was
ordered to attend the Prince in his privy cabinet, and, obeying
the summons, he found the Prince, his younger brother, the Duke
of Bedford, and his uncle, the Bishop of Winchester, seated at a
table, where they had just been refreshing themselves with a
flagon of wine and a plate of wafers.
"My poor Myles," said the Prince, smiling, as the young knight
bowed to the three, and then stood erect, as though on duty. "It
shames my heart, brother--and thou, uncle--it shames my heart to
be one privy to this thing which we are set upon to do. Here be
we, the greatest Lords of England, making a cat's-paw of this
lad--for he is only yet a boy--and of his blind father, for to
achieve our ends against Alban's faction. It seemeth not
over-honorable to my mind."
"Pardon me, your Highness," said Myles, blushing to the roots of
his hair; "but, an I may be so bold as to speak, I reck nothing
of what your aims may be; I only look to restoring my father's
honor and the honor of our house."
"Truly," said the Prince, smiling, "that is the only matter that
maketh me willing to lay my hands to this business. Dost thou
know why I have sent for thee? It is because this day thou must
challenge the Duke of Alban before the King. The Earl of
Mackworth has laid all his plans and the time is now ripe.
Knowest that thy father is at Mackworth House?"
"Nay," said Myles; "I knew it not."
"He hath been there for nearly two days," said the Prince. "Just
now the Earl hath sent for us to come first to Mackworth House.
Then to go to the palace, for he hath gained audience with the
King, and hath so arranged it that the Earl of Alban is to be
there as well. We all go straightway; so get thyself ready as
soon as may be."
Perhaps Myles's heart began beating more quickly within him at
the nearness of that great happening which he had looked forward
to for so long. If it did, he made no sign of his emotion, but
only asked, "How must I clothe myself, your Highness?"
"Wear thy light armor," said the Prince, "but no helmet, a juppon
bearing the arms and colors that the Earl gave thee when thou
wert knighted, and carry thy right-hand gauntlet under thy belt
for thy challenge. Now make haste, for time passes."
