Long Will Part 12

"And if I serve thee faithful? If I bring thee to the Prince? If I make these wrongs my wrongs, and plead to him?--Then--Calote--then--what wilt thou?"

"How can I tell?" she whispered.

CHAPTER IX

The King's Secret

Yet the days pa.s.sed, and 't was mid-June when there came to the door of the house on Cornhill a slender young squire on a slow and sober hack, with a stout and likewise sober gentlewoman afore him on the saddle. The youth had much ado to see his horse's head by peering this way and that around the circuit of his lady, the while he kept one hand at her waist in semblance of protection. And the good folk on Cornhill failed not to find, in all this, food for a jest.

A shoemaker's prentice came running to lend an awl, with:--

"An thou 'lt punch her with this and set thine eye to hole, thou 'lt not need wag thy head so giddily."

"Nay, master, my tools will serve thee better," cried a carpenter.

"What's an awl to pierce three feet o' flesh?"

"Hold, hold! Thy lady's a-slipping!" laughed another. "Lean on him, mistress,--he hath a stout arm!"

"Look how amorously he doth embrace the maid!"

And Hobbe, coming to the front of his shop, cried out:--

"A rape! a rape!--Rescue the damsel!"

"Ma foy, Etienne!" the lady protested, indignant. "Here 's a sweet neighbourhood to bring an unprotected damosel."

"Nay, madame, but thou dost me wrong," said the squire. "Am I not here to defend thee?"

He had pulled up his willing steed and lighted down, and now was come to the lady's side to a.s.sist her to dismount. Hobbe also was drawn nigh, and heard these words.

"Yea, mistress, thou dost most foully slander this knight," said he.

"I have seen him with his single arm put to rout a two thousand men and mo'. He 's well known i' these parts, and greatly feared."

They that stood by roared with laughter; and Stephen, crimson, and biting his nether lip,--yet not in anger,--made as to a.s.sist the lady from her saddle. Seeing this, Hobbe thrust himself to the fore, and said he:--

"Mistress, though you pity not this stripling, yet pity your own neck," and caught her by the middle with his two hands and set her on the ground, they both staggering. And the squire hurried her within doors.

When she had caught her breath, she saw a bare, damp room, and a man writing.

"Mother of G.o.d! What kennel is this, Etienne?" she gasped. "Didst not a.s.sure madame 't was a poet's daughter?"

"Yea, and truly, Dame Marguerite! This is the poet's self."

She looked on Langland, who was come up the room, and shook her head, saying:--

"I fear me thou hast fallen in evil company, Etienne. 'T will go ill with thee if aught befal me."

But Stephen had turned away and louted low before the clerk.

"Sir, since that day you gave me entertainment in your house I have many time related mine adventure to the Prince Richard, the puissant and n.o.ble. It is the tale he most delighteth in. I have likewise read to him from the Vision; there be parts he much affecteth. These several months he will give madame his mother no peace, but he will see your daughter, and hear from her lips concerning the poor, and the manner of her life."

"Wherefore my daughter?" asked Langland.

"I--I--sir, I have spoke of your daughter, she is very fair. The Prince, who is walled about with tapestry and richesse, he hath desired to see one, like himself young, who knoweth not these things.

To-day, for the old King afar in his manor is mayhap at death's door, and the gentlemen of our household are much occupied, the Prince hath got his way with madame. She is a most gentle lady and a true mother.

She sendeth this, her waiting-woman, to bring the maiden safe to the palace."

Long Will sunk his chin in his breast, and mused, the while the waiting-woman stood with her skirts upgathered off the floor. Then he lifted up his head and called:--

"Calote!--Calote!--Kitte!"

And presently there was a sound of pattering overhead, and down an outside stair, and the two came in from the alley.

"Here 's a message for Calote," said her father shortly. "She is bidden to Kennington Palace."

Kitte, just risen from a deep curtsey before the fine lady, showed more of consternation than joy in her visage; but the little maid caught Will's hand in both of hers and cried:--

"Oh, father, I may go?"

He looked gloomily upon her:--

"What wilt thou there?"

"Tell the Prince of us poor, father; teach him the Ploughman's tale; beg him to come on pilgrimage with us to Truth. Let me go!"

"'T is the Prince commandeth, wench," the waiting-woman interrupted.

"Is no need to ask leave."

"Madame," said Langland, "you mistake. Is great need. The Prince is not the King; neither is he mine overlord: I owe him no duty.

Natheless, the child may go. Yet"--and he turned him to Stephen, "if there come any evil to this my daughter"--

"Sir," said Stephen, "I pledge my life for to keep the honour of this maid."

"And of what use is thy life to me?" quoth Langland.

But Calote, who had fled away immediately, came now, walking softly.

She had put on her shoes of gray cloth, but she had no stockings. She had smoothed her yellow braids and set a clean kerchief atop.

"I am ready to go with you, madame," she said, and curtseyed.

Langland and the smith together got the waiting-woman upon her saddle, and Hobbe tossed Calote lightly up afore. So, with Stephen leading the horse, they went out of Cornhill.

Now, though this waiting-woman's soul was strait, her heart was big enough and kind, and when she had perforce to set her arms about Calote, and she felt that slim little body of the child, and the little b.r.e.a.s.t.s a-fluttering, because Calote's breath came too quick, and because her heart beat fast,--the Dame Marguerite could not but grow warm to the maid, and wiled the way with tales of the palace, and, "When thou art come into the presence of the Prince thou wilt do thus and so," and, "Thou art never to sit," and so with many instructions of court modes and manners.

They found the little Prince in a round chamber in one of the turrets, where he sat on a cushion within the splay of a narrow window, reading a book.