True Stories of Girl Heroines Part 20

Quickly ascending the steps once more, she shut all the doors behind her, and again made the round of all the apartments, to make sure that all was still and silent. Then, being satisfied on this score, she possessed herself of a very large crimson cushion from the chapel, carefully unripped a seam, and took out a considerable quant.i.ty of the stuffing which she burnt upon her fire in the stove. This, to be sure, made an unpleasant smell, but Helen was glad of it, for should any of the girls awake or the guards of the castle come to inquire what was being burnt she could point to the wool and hair in the stove, and tell some story of how she was burning up some old oddments of the Queen's.

Then with her velvet cushion in her arms she stole down to the vault once more.

There lay the sacred crown that Helen had seen once upon the brow of the late King Albert! Pan Vilga and his servant were carefully removing all trace of their work, replacing filed chains and bars and broken padlocks by new ones brought for the purpose, and renewing all the seals with the Queen's own signet.

As for Helen, she rushed at the crown and fairly clasped it in her arms, crying out in her heart: "Ah, my Mistress, my dear, dear Mistress--you are safe for a time from the menaced peril!" Then, whilst the men completed their task, and set the vault in order, completely obliterating the traces of their work, Helen carefully placed the crown within the ample cushion, arranging the stuffing so as to keep it from injury, and finally sewing up the ripped seam.

What a journey that was upon the next day; when Helen with her precious cushion in the sledge behind her travelled back to her Royal Mistress at the castle of Komorn! A thousand times her heart was in her mouth; for every time the cushion was touched or moved she could scarce refrain from crying out; once crown and lady, knight and all were in deadly danger of perishing in the deep and treacherous Danube, which they had to cross upon the ice. For the spring was at hand, and the frost was yielding; and the ice cracked so ominously beneath their horses' feet, that the terrified driver lashed them into a gallop, and they saw a chasm yawning behind them as they fled.

But there was commotion and joy in the castle of Kormorn when Helen entered, carrying with her a big cushion that she declined to entrust to any servant. For a little son had been born that very day to the Queen; and she had said that when the Lady Helen returned she was to come instantly to see her.

Cushion in hand, brave Helen entered the Royal presence, and, going up to the bedside, saw the Queen with the tiny babe beside her. The light sprang into her eyes at the sight.

"I have brought my little King his crown," she said; and, sinking on her knees beside the bed, she told the whole tale to the Queen.

When a few weeks later the little King Wladislas was solemnly anointed and crowned by the Archbishop of Gran, it was Helen who held the babe in her arms, whilst the sacred crown of St. Stephen was placed upon his brow.

MAID LILLYARD

"What!" she cried, the indignant blood leaping to her cheek, "hast thou taken the Red Cross? Why, shame upon thee! Shame upon thee! Thou art not worthy the name thou dost bear!"

The young fellow stood before her twisting his bonnet between his hands in somewhat shamefaced fashion. From the likeness between them it was plain that they were brother and sister: but there was a courage and loftiness of purpose in the aspect of the girl which bespoke a higher nature than that of the stalwart lad, who looked half-afraid to face her.

"Others have done it before. They are all doing it," he argued. "They say 'tis the only way of safety now that the English King is so mighty in wrath, and will win by force what he cannot get by friendship. They say he will come himself, and carry away our young Queen to England, to wed her to his son; and that all who seek to withstand him will be slain."

Lillyard's lip curled; her eyes shot forth fire.

"England's Kings have tried ere this to conquer Bonny Scotland. Let them come again, and see the welcome they will get!"

"It is all very fine for thee to talk!" grumbled the lad; "thou art a woman. Thou dost sit at home at ease. It is us men who have to go forth and take all the hard blows. Thou knowest the fate that has befallen hundreds of us Border men at the hands of the English. Why should we suffer it? What care I who gets the best of this quarrel? We are well-nigh as much English as Scotch. What matters it on which side we fight? Thou needst not glower like that at me. Others say the same. It is better to take the Red Cross and serve with Sir Ralph Evers or Sir Brian Latoun, than to be slaughtered like sheep by their trained bands."

The girl was looking away from him over the smiling landscape. The expression of her face was one her brother could scarcely read aright.

He cowered a little before it; and yet her voice was quiet enough when she spoke; quiet and almost dreamy.

"It is better to die a soldier's death on the field of battle, than to turn a traitor to one's home and country, and sell one's sword to an alien King!"

"Oh, ay, you talk--you talk!" answered Gregory in a tone of offence; "women can always talk. But if it came to fighting, then they would sing to a very different tune!"

The girl's eyes flashed; she turned their light full upon her brother, who moved uneasily beneath the gaze.

"Then let the men don women's attire and take the distaff and spindle in their hands!" she cried; "and let us women go forth and fight the foe! I trow we should make the better soldiers, if thou art a specimen of the lads of the Border!"

"Go to, for a sharp-tongued shrew!" cried Gregory angrily; "I am none worse than others. Duncan has taken the Red Cross too. Small peace would there have been at home had I refused it. And have a care how thou dost talk to him, Lillyard. He will have thee to the cucking-stool for a scold, an' thou treat him to such words as thou hast treated me!"

Lillyard's hands dropped to her sides, and her eyes dilated. She had not perhaps a very exalted opinion of her half-brother, Duncan; but at least she gave him credit for personal courage.

"Duncan has taken the Red Cross!" she repeated at last. "Art sure of that, Gregory?"

"I saw it pinned upon his arm myself," answered the big lad; "'twas he who called me up and bid me do the same. He told me how the English were mustering, and that there would be another great raid; and that he had no mind to have his house burned about his ears, and all his crops carried off, with the cattle and horses, and nothing left us save bare life, even if we escape with that. And I don't see but what he's in the right," added the youth defiantly, "for all thy black looks, Maid Lillyard."

"Duncan taken the Red Cross," breathed the girl softly, as she stood looking out straight before her with that inscrutable look of hers.

"Then this place is no longer a home for me."

"What meanest thou?" cried Gregory angrily. "Thou dost talk like a silly wench, not like our wise Lillyard. What other home couldst thou find?

And, as I tell thee, we shall be safe here now; for the English are not to harry the homestead of any of those who have taken the Red Cross."

She did not seem to hear him. She had turned back into the house and was putting together a few of her private belongings. Her brother watched her uneasily, shifting from foot to foot.

"Lillyard, be not so rash. Duncan will never forgive. He will never take thee back if thou dost go now."

"I shall not ask him," responded Lillyard quietly; and then, looking fixedly at Gregory, she said half sadly: "I would that thou wouldst come with me, and tear that badge from off thine arm. Better a thousand times death than dishonour--if that be the choice."

"Women cannot judge of these things," answered Gregory, with masculine arrogance of s.e.x. Lillyard gave a little smile, and urged him no more.

The sun was setting over Ancram Moor as the girl stepped forth with her modest possessions in a bundle. She had no wish to encounter the half-brother, with whom she and Gregory had made a home ever since their father's death. He had been a more autocratic ruler at home than ever the father was. Lillyard did not greatly love him; but she had never before doubted his personal courage or his loyalty to Scotland's cause.

Those were evil days for the dwellers upon the Border; and it cannot be wondered at, if many in that region sought to trim their sails to the favouring breeze of the moment. There had been sufficient admixture of the two races here to lessen somewhat the pa.s.sionate loyalty to country that ruled in more distant parts. When the Scotch ravaged the English borders, the inhabitants sometimes preferred to make terms with them than to fight, and to bribe them to retire; and when the English forces invaded Scotland, burning, plundering, and butchering through the devastated land, it was scarcely to be wondered at that some willingly temporised. If it were true that the little Queen was to marry the King of England's son, and unite the two countries in one, what need to cherish such strong hatred and angry feeling?

But the war was felt to be unjust and unprovoked, and much irritation was aroused. Henry VIII. of England had shown his intolerant and impatient temper in a fashion which brought about the defeat of his cherished plan. He angered the Scots by his demand to have the little Queen in his own keeping; and, by his persistence and autocratic conduct, he drove the adverse party into the arms of France, and caused a rupture in those very negotiations by which he had set such store.

Even then had he shown moderation and patience, he might still have won a diplomatic victory, when the proposed scheme had so much to recommend it; but the haughty monarch had never learned the meaning of that word, and in his ripening years was losing the self-control which in his younger days he had sometimes exercised over himself. Upon hearing the news of the negotiations with France, he had declared instant war, and had sent two bold knights to start a Border raid, whilst his ships should convey an army to their aid by way of the Frith of Forth.

All the Border country was in a tumult of alarm. Help was promised them from the Scottish army; but meantime this terrible raid had been made, in which above a thousand men had been either slain or made prisoners, nearly two hundred houses and towers destroyed, and such quant.i.ties of sheep and cattle slaughtered or driven away as to render the area of country completely desolate.

It was therefore perhaps no great wonder that those of the Border folk who did not feel very keenly with regard to this war, should gladly avail themselves of the offer made by the English commanders, and promise to befriend them and to fight on their side if their persons and goods might be saved from hurt. Those who made this concession were decorated with a Red Cross, which they undertook to wear in battle, to distinguish them, and which they were glad enough to have on at other times, as it was impossible to know at what moment a band of raiders might not appear, and how soon it might not be needful to display the badge of friendship.

But to the high spirit of Lillyard this kind of compromise was odious.

As is sometimes the case in families, she seemed to have inherited everything that was distinctively and vehemently Scotch. The admixture of English blood seemed not to have touched her. To think of making such a compromise with the English was to her mind an act of black treachery.

Perhaps her feelings on this point had been unconsciously strengthened by her attachment to a young Highlander, whose mother had somewhat recently come to live in this Border country, where a little property had unexpectedly come to her.

Young Gordon was a Scotchman to the very marrow of his bones, and his mother was full of the legends and traditions of the Highland home they had quitted, to which Lillyard would sit and listen by the hour together. And so close a bond of sympathy had sprung up between the two, that when Gordon spoke openly of his love, and begged Lillyard to look upon herself as his promised bride, his mother was almost as eager as the son for her consent.

It was natural that Lillyard, in her trouble and dismay, should bend her steps towards that humble homestead, where the widow, Madge Gordon, had been settled by her son, ere he went forth to join one of those bands of soldiers that fought sometimes here, sometimes there, as occasion demanded, and helped to keep in seething life and activity those terrors and those enthusiasms of patriotism which were the life and soul of the struggle.

The old woman looked up with a smile as Lillyard entered her cottage; but she spoke no word, for something in the girl's face restrained her.

"Duncan and Gregory have ta'en the Red Cross," said Lillyard, in a low, hard tone.

"The deil fly away with all cowards who would sell their country to the usurper!" breathed the fierce old woman.

"So I have come to thee, mother," added Lillyard simply.