The White Lady of Hazelwood Part 32

Sir G.o.dfrey struggled to his feet with an exclamation of surprise. His elder son turned round from the window; the younger said, "_Ha, jolife_!

Now, Gille, go on thy perch, sweet heart!" and set the falcon on its perch. Agatha's work went down in a moment. Lady Foljambe alone seemed insensible to the news. At the same moment, the great doors at the end of the hall were flung open, and the seneschal, with a low bow to his master and mistress, cried--

"Room for the Duke's Grace of Brittany!"

As the new arrivals entered the hall, Lady Ba.s.set came in from the opposite end. The Duke, a fine, rather stern-looking man, strode forward until he reached the dais where the family sat; and then, doffing his crowned helmet, addressed himself to Sir G.o.dfrey Foljambe.

"Sir, I give you good even. King Edward your Lord greets you by me, and bids you give good heed to that which you shall find herein."

At a motion from the Duke, quick and peremptory, one of his knights stepped forth and delivered the royal letter.

Sir G.o.dfrey took it into his hands with a low reverence, and bade his seneschal fetch Father Jordan, without whose a.s.sistance it was impossible for him to ascertain his Sovereign's bidding.

Father Jordan hastened in, cut the silken string, and read the letter.

"Messire,--Our will and pleasure is, that you shall entertain in your Manor of Hazelwood, for such time as shall be his pleasure, our very dear and well-beloved son, John, Duke of Brittany and Count de Montfort, neither letting nor deferring the said Duke from intercourse with our prisoner his mother, Margaret, d.u.c.h.ess of Brittany, but shall suffer him to speak with her at his will. And for so doing this shall be your warrant. By the King. At our Castle of Winchester, the morrow of Saint Roma.n.u.s."

Lady Foljambe turned to the Duke and inquired when it would be his pleasure to speak with the prisoner.

"When her physician counts it meet," said he, with a slight movement of his shapely shoulders, which did not augur much gratification at the prospect before him. "By my faith, had not King Edward my father insisted thereon, then had I never come on so idle a journey. When I looked every morrow for news from Bretagne, bidding me most likely thither, to trot over half England for an old dame's diversion were enough to try the patience of any knight on earth! I shall not tarry long here, I do ensure you, his Highness' bidding fulfilled; and I trust your physician shall not long tarry me."

Sir G.o.dfrey and Lady Foljambe were full of expressions of sympathy.

Lady Ba.s.set came forward, and spoke in a slightly cynical tone.

"Good morrow, my Lord," said she to her brother. "You came not to see me, I think, more in especial as I shall one of these days be an old woman, when your Grace's regard for me shall perish. Father Jordan, I pray you, let it not be long ere you give leave for this loving son to have speech of his mother. 'Twere pity he should break his heart by tarrying."

Father Jordan nervously intimated that if the Countess were not asleep, he saw no reason why his Grace's visit should be delayed at all.

"Nay, but under your leave, my good host, I will eat first," said the Duke; "were it but to strengthen me for the ordeal which waiteth me."

Lady Foljambe disappeared at once, on hospitable thoughts intent, and Sir G.o.dfrey was profuse in apologies that the suggestion should have needed to come from the Duke. But the only person in the hall who, except his sister, was not afraid of the Duke, stepped forth and spoke her mind.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

SATISFIED AT LAST.

"I am not eager, bold, Nor strong--all that is past: I'm ready _not_ to do, At last--at last.

"My half-day's work is done, And this is all my part; I give a patient G.o.d My patient heart.

"And grasp His banner still, Though all its blue be dim: These stripes, no less than stars, Lead after Him."

"Fair Lord," said Perrote de Carhaix, in the native tongue of both herself and the Duke, "I am your old nurse, who held you in her arms as a babe, and who taught your infant lips to speak. I taught you the Ten Commandments of G.o.d; have you forgotten them? or do you call such words as you have spoken honouring your mother? Is this the reward you pay her for her mother-love, for her thousand anxieties, for her risked life? If it be so, G.o.d pardon you as He may! But when you too reach that point which is the common lot of all humanity--when you too lie awaiting the dread summons of the inevitable angel who shall lead you either into the eternal darkness or the everlasting light, beware lest your dearest turn away from you, and act by you as you have done by her!"

The Duke's black eyes shot forth fire. He was an exceedingly pa.s.sionate man.

"Mademoiselle de Carhaix, do you know that you are my subject?"

"I am aware of it, my Lord."

"And that I could order your head struck off in yonder court?"

"You could, if yonder court were in Bretagne. In the realm of another sovereign, I scarcely think so, under your gracious pleasure. But do you suppose I should be silent for that? When G.o.d puts His words into the lips of His messengers, they must speak them out, whatever the result may be."

"Mademoiselle considers herself, then, an inspired prophetess?" was the contemptuous response.

"The Lord put His words once into the mouth of an a.s.s," replied Perrote, meekly. "I think I may claim to be an a.s.s's equal. I have spoken, fair Lord, and I shall add no more. The responsibility lies now with you.

My message is delivered, and I pray G.o.d to give you ears to hear."

"Sir G.o.dfrey Foljambe, is this the manner in which you think it meet that one of your household should address a Prince?"

"Most gracious Lord, I am deeply distressed that this gentlewoman should so far have forgotten herself. But I humbly pray your Grace to remember that she is but a woman; and women have small wit and much spitefulness."

"In good sooth, I have need to remember it!" answered the Duke, wrathfully. "I never thought, when I put myself to the pains to journey over half England to satisfy the fancies of a sick woman, that I was to be received with insult and contumely after this fashion. I pray you to send this creature out of my sight, as the least reparation that can be offered for such an injury."

"You need not, Sir," was the immediate reply of Perrote. "I go, for mine errand is done. And for the rest, may G.o.d judge between us, and He will."

The Duke sat down to the collation hastily spread before him, with the air of an exceedingly injured man. He would not have been quite so angry, if his own conscience had not been so provoking as to second every word of Perrote's reprimand. And as it is never of the least use for a man to quarrel with his conscience, he could do nothing but make Perrote the scape-goat, unless, indeed, he had possessed sufficient grace and humility to accept and profit by the rebuke:--which in his eyes, was completely out of the question. Had the Archbishop of York been the speaker, he might possibly have condescended so far. But the whims of an old nurse--a subject--a woman--he told himself, must needs be utterly beneath the notice of any one so exalted. The excellence of the medicine offered him could not even be considered, if it were presented in a vessel of common pottery, chipped at the edges.

Notwithstanding his wrath, the Duke did sufficient justice to the collation; and he then demanded, if it must be, to be taken to his mother at once. The sooner the ordeal was over, the better, and he did not mean to remain at Hazelwood an hour longer than could be helped.

Lady Foljambe went up to prepare the Countess for the interview. In her chamber she found not only Amphillis, who was on duty, but the Archbishop also. He sat by the bed with the book of the Gospels in his hands--a Latin version, of course--from which he had been translating a pa.s.sage to the invalid.

"Well, what now, Avena?" faintly asked the Countess, who read news in Lady Foljambe's face.

There was no time to break it very gradually, for Lady Foljambe knew that the Duke's impatience would not brook delay.

"Dame," she said, shortly, "my Lord your son--"

"Bring him in!" cried the Countess, in a voice of ecstasy, without allowing Lady Foljambe to finish her sentence. How it was to end she seemed to have no doubt, and the sudden joy lent a fict.i.tious strength to her enfeebled frame. "Bring him in! my Jean, my darling, my little lad! Said I not the lad should never forsake his old mother? Bring him in!"

Lady Foljambe drew back to allow the Duke to enter, for his step was already audible. He came in, and stood by the bed--tall, upright, silent.

"My Jean!" cried the dying mother.

"Madame!" was the answer, decorous and icy.

"Kiss me, my Jean! Why dost thou not kiss me? Lad, I have not seen thee all these weary years!"

The Duke, in a very proper manner, kissed the weak old hand which was stretched out towards him. His lips were warm, but his kiss was as cold as a kiss well could be.

"Madame," said the Duke, mindful of the proprieties, "it gives me indescribable grief to find you thus. I am also deeply distressed that it should be impossible for me to remain with you. I expect news from Bretagne every day--almost every hour--which I hope will summon me back thither to triumph over my rebellious subjects, and to resume my throne in victory. You will, therefore, grant me excuse if it be impossible for me to do more than kiss your hand and entreat your blessing."

"Not stay, my Jean!" she said, in piteous accents. "Not stay, when thou hast come so far to see me! Dost thou know that I am dying?"

"Madame, I am infinitely grieved to perceive it. But reasons of state are imperative and paramount."

"My Lord will pardon me for observing," said the Archbishop's voice, "with a royal kinsman of his own, that G.o.d may grant him many kingdoms, but he can never have but one mother."