The Great Mogul Part 3

The noise of the disturbance brought people running from Temple Bar.

Others hurried up from the direction of Charing Cross. Then, as now, Londoners dearly loved a street row.

Again, by well-planned strategy, the soldiers and some of the exquisites mingled with the crowd and gave lying a.s.surances that the rogues who fought had run off towards the Convent Garden. Roger recognized the silversmith's apprentice among the gapers.

"Here, lad," he said, beckoning him, "ask yon fellow holding a kerchief to his broken head who were the ladies he carried in the litter."

The man, thus appealed to, gathered his wits sufficiently to answer, and the honored names of Cave and Roe acted as sparks on tinder. Forthwith, a number of city youths gathered round Mowbray and Sainton to hear their version of the fray.

As soon as they knew that the girls had been taken into Gondomar's house, all the race hatred and religious bigotry of the time flamed forth in ungovernable fury.

"'Prentices! 'Prentices! Clubs! Clubs!" rang out the yell, and the war-cry of the guilds quickly reached to the city barrier, whence a torrent of youths poured headlong into the Strand.

"We'll have 'em out, if all the amba.s.sadors in St. James's barred the way," shouted the valiant silversmith, who contrived to keep very close to Roger in the press, and, when reinforcements arrived, a decided move was made towards the garden gate.

And now, indeed, a real fight was imminent. Seeing their ruse foiled, Gondomar's adherents banded together for the defense. The citizens were determined to rescue the daughters of two men respected of all honest burgesses, but, if more numerous, they were not properly armed to attack swordsmen and halberdiers. Hence, blood would be spilt in plenty before they won the gate, had not Roger pulled back Walter Mowbray, who headed the attack.

"Leave 'em to me," he said. "I'll side 'em!"

With that he leaped forward into the s.p.a.ce cleared by the halberdiers, and made play with his staff. A steel helmet was cracked like a potsherd, three unarmored gallants dropped beneath one blow, and two halberds were broken across as if they had been pipe-stems abhorred by the King.

Before this raging giant, with the tremendous sweep of his long arms and six-foot staff, ordinary swords and ceremonial battle-axes were of no avail. He mowed down his adversaries as a scythe cuts gra.s.s, and a few lightning circles described by the ashplant, cleared the way to the gate.

The door was really a wide postern, sunk in the wall, built of stout oak and studded with iron rivets. Without a moment's pause, Sainton leaned against it. There was a sound of rending wood-work, and the structure was torn from its hinges.

Mowbray parried a vengeful thrust made at his friend by a fallen Spaniard, and jammed the hilt of his sword into the man's face. Roger, bending his head, entered the garden. Behind him came Walter, and the exulting mob poured in at their heels.

The garden was empty. Leading to the house was a flight of broad steps; at the open door of the mansion stood a tall, grim-looking, clean-shaven priest, a Spaniard, of the ascetic type, a man of dignified appearance, in whose face decision and strength of character set their seal.

At his elbow Mowbray saw the young n.o.bleman who had addressed the girls.

He ran forward, fearing lest Roger should open the argument with his cudgel.

"Hold!" cried the ecclesiastic, in good English. "What want ye here in this unbridled fashion?"

"We seek two ladies, daughters of Sir Thomas Cave and Master Robert Roe, who were brought hither forcibly but a few minutes back."

"They are not here."

"That is a black lie, black as your own gown," put in Roger Sainton.

The priest's sallow face flushed. He was of high rank, and not used to being spoken to so curtly. Mowbray, already cooler now swords had given place to words, restrained Roger by a look and a hand on his arm.

"My friend is blunt of speech," he explained. "He only means that you are mistaken. It will avoid riot and bloodshed if the ladies are given over forthwith to the safe conduct of those who are acquainted with their parents."

"Who are you who can venture to speak on behalf of an ignorant and unmannerly gathering which dares to violate the sanctuary of an Emba.s.sy?" was the vehement response.

"My name is Walter Mowbray," was the calm answer. "There is no violation of sanctuary intended. We are here to rescue two ladies inveigled into this house by unworthy device. Either they come out or we come in."

"Aye, shaven-pate, 'tis ill disputing with him who commands an army,"

cried Roger.

The cleric, on whom Mowbray's reply seemed to have an extraordinary effect, shot glances at both which would have slain them if looks could kill. But the impatient mob was shouting for active measures: it would have asked no greater fun than the sack of Gondomar's residence; moreover, the majority of the Spaniards and their allies were routed in the street.

So the priest swallowed his wrath and muttered something in a low tone to the silken-clad person by his side. Then he faced Mowbray again.

"When I said there were no ladies here, I meant that none had been conveyed hither forcibly. Two young ladies were sheltered by his Excellency's retinue, it is true. If they choose they are at liberty to accompany you, and I shall now acquaint them therewith."

A hoa.r.s.e laugh from the crowd showed that the sophistry did not pa.s.s unheeded. Nevertheless, Mowbray's counsel of moderation swayed the mob into quiescence, and, a minute later, Anna Cave and Eleanor Roe, pale and trembling, hardly knowing what was toward, were carried in their litter to the city by an excited but good-tempered escort.

CHAPTER III

"The attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us."

_Shakespeare_, "Macbeth."

Anna's father, jogging along comfortably on the borrowed cob, overtook the rearmost of the rabble near St. Dunstan's. Anger made him red, and alarm made him white, when he heard the disjointed tales of those who sought to enlighten him.

That the daughter and niece of one who held high place in his native county, and whose brother in the city was loaded with civic dignities, should be waylaid in the Strand by a number of young profligates aping Rochester's license, was not to be endured. Therefore, Sir Thomas flushed like a turkey, and his right hand, long unaccustomed to more serious weapon than a carving-knife, tightened on the reins in a way that surprised his placid steed.

But it was an equally serious thing that certain youthful hot-heads, led by "a pair of Yorkshire gallants, one of whom was like unto Gog himself," should have stormed the house of the Spanish Amba.s.sador in order to rescue the two girls. The royal prerogative, already in grave dispute, was sadly abused by this disorder, and Gondomar was well fitted, by diplomatic skill and political ac.u.men, to make the most of the incident. When Sir Thomas thought of the way in which James, with his dagger-proof doublet unfastened and his points tied awry, would stamp up and down his council-chamber in maundering rage, the color fled from his ruddy cheeks and left him pallid, with drawn under lip.

Nevertheless, when he reached the house of Alderman Cave, situate on the north side of Draper's Garden, his natural dread of the King's wrath soon yielded to indignation. He found there not only Anna and Eleanor, but Walter Mowbray and Roger Sainton, with a concourse of friends and neighbors drawn together by news of the outrage.

The old knight's vanity was not proof against the knowledge of the peril from which the girls were saved. He swore roundly that he had been separated from them by a trick, and admitted that the King did not want him at all. With tears in his eyes he thanked the two young men for their timely aid.

"You will be the son of Sir Walter Mowbray who fell in the great sea-fight against the Spanish Armada?" he cried, seizing Walter's hand effusively.

"Yes. I scarce remember my father. I was but five years old when he died. Yet my mother taught me to regard all Spaniards as false men, so I scrupled the less to take part against Gondomar."

"Mercy-a-gad, she might justly have given thee sterner counsel. Thy father was a brave and proper man. I knew him well. Were there more of the like to-day these graceless rogues would not treat as courtezans the daughters of honest folk. And thy friend, if he be not Goliath come to life, how is he known?"

"Let me present to your worship Master Roger Sainton, of Wensleydale, in Yorkshire."

"Ecod, he is well named. I warrant him sain (wholesome) and I trow he weigheth nearest a ton of any man breathing."

Roger, seldom at a loss for a repartee, waited until the laugh raised by Sir Thomas's jest had pa.s.sed.

"'Tis an empty tun at this moment, your Honor," said he, glancing plainly at the row of shining tankards which graced a sideboard.

"Where are those la.s.ses?" shouted the knight, glad of the diversion afforded by the claims of hospitality. "Zounds! Here be their defenders athirst and not a flagon on the table."

In truth, Anna and Eleanor, flurried out of their self-possession by the turmoil of the past hour, had escaped to their apartments, whence they sent the excuse that they were engaged in exchanging their out-of-door dresses and cloaks for raiment more suited to the house.

There were servants in plenty, however, to bring wine enough for a regiment, and certain city magnates, arriving about this time, were emphatic in their advice that Mowbray and Sainton should not attempt to traverse the Strand a second time that day in their search for the residence of the North-country n.o.bleman whom Walter meant to visit.

"A bonny tale will have reached his Majesty ere this," ran their comment. "Were the pair of you to be haled before him after Gondomar had poisoned his mind you were like to lose your right hands within the hour for brawling in the streets."