the caged lion-第17章

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The　boy　coloured　like　a　poppy；　and　answered　awkwardly　enough；　'The　Lady　Joan；　Sir？'

'Who　but　the　Lady　Joan；　thou　silly　lad？　　How　say'st　thou？　　Will　not　Scotland　forget　in　the　sight　of　that　fair　face　all　those　fule　phantasiesthe　only　folly　I　heard　at　Glenuskie？'

'Methinks；'　said　Malcolm；　looking　down　in　sheer　awkwardness；　'it　were　easier　to　bow　to　her　than　to　King　Harry's　dame。　　She　hath　more　of　stateliness。'

'Humph！'　said　James；　'dost　so　serve　thy　courtly　'prenticeship？　　Nay；　but　in　a　sort　I　see　thy　meaning。　　The　royal　blood　of　England　shows　itself　to　one　who　hath　an　eye　for　princeliness　of　nature。'

'Nay；'　said　Malcolm；　gratified；　'those　dark　eyes　and　swart　locks'

'Dark　eyesswart　locks！'　interrupted　the　King。　　'His　wits　have　gone　wool…gathering。'

'Indeed；　Sir！'　exclaimed　Malcolm；　'I　thought　you　meant　the　lady　who　stood　by　the　Queen's　table；　with　the　grand　turn　of　the　neck　and　the　white　wimple　and　veil。'

'Pshaw！'　said　James；　'the　foolish　callant！　he　hath　taken　that　great　brown　Luxemburg　nun　of　Dame　Jac's　for　the　Rose　of　Somerset。'

However；　James；　seeing　how　confounded　the　boy　was　by　this　momentary　displeasure；　explained　to　him　who　the　other　persons　he　had　seen　were…　…Jaqueline；　the　runaway　Countess　of　Hainault　in　her　own　right；　and　Duchess　of　Brabant　by　marriage；　Humfrey；　duke　of　Gloucester；　the　King's　young；　brilliant　brother；　the　grave；　melancholy　Duke　of　Orleans；　who　had　been　taken　captive　at　Agincourt；　and　was　at　present　quartered　at　Pontefract；　the　handsome；　but　stout　and　heavy…looking　Earl　of　March；　brave　Lord　Warwick；　Sir　Lewis　Robsart；　the　old　knight　to　whose　charge　the　Queen　had　been　specially　committed　from　the　moment　of　her　betrothal；　and　a　young；　bold；　gay…looking　lad；　of　Malcolm's　own　age；　but　far　taller　and　stouter；　and　with　a　merry；　half…defiant；　half…insouciant　air；　who　had　greatly　taken　his　fancy；　was；　he　was　told；　Ralf　Percy；　the　second　son　of　Sir　Harry　Percy。

'Of　him　they　called　Hotspur？who　was　taken　captive　at　Otterburn；　who　died　a　rebel！'　exclaimed　Malcolm。

'Ay；'　said　James；　'but　King　Harry　had　learnt　the　art　of　war　as　a　boy；　first　under　Hotspur；　in　Wales；　nor　doth　he　love　that　northern　fashion　of　ours　of　keeping　up　feud　from　generation　to　generation。　　So　hath　he　restored　the　eldest　son　to　his　barony；　and　set　him　to　watch　our　Borders；　and　the　younger；　Ralf；　he　is　training　in　his　own　school　of　chivalry。'

More　wonders　for　Malcolm　Stewart；　who　had　learnt　to　believe　it　mere　dishonour　and　tameness　to　forgive　the　son　for　his　father's　deeds。　　A　cloistered　priest　could　hardly　do　so：　　pardon　to　a　hostile　family　came　only　with　the　last　mortal　throe；　and　here　was　this　warlike　king　forgiving　as　a　mere　matter　of　course！

'But；'　added　James；　'you　had　best　not　speak　of　your　bent　conventwards　in　the　Court　here。　　I　should　not　like　to　have　you　called　the　monkling！'

Malcolm　crimsoned；　with　the　resolution　never　to　betray　himself。



CHAPTER　V：　　WHITTINGTON　S　FEAST



The　next　day　the　royal　train　set　forth　from　Pontefract；　and　ere　mounting；　James　presented　his　young　kinsman　to　the　true　Joan　Beaufortfair…haired；　soft…featured；　blue…eyed；　and　with　a　lovely　air　of　graciousness；　as　she　greeted　him　with　a　sweet；　blushing；　sunny　smile；　half　that　of　the　queen　in　anticipation；　half　that　of　the　kindly　maiden　wishing　to　set　a　stranger　at　ease。　　So　beautiful　was　she；　that　Malcolm　felt　annihilated　at　the　thought　of　his　blunder　of　last　night。

As　they　rode　on；　James　was　entirely　occupied　with　the　lady；　and　Malcolm　was　a　good　deal　left　to　himself；　for；　though　the　party　was　numerous；　he　knew　no　one　except　the　Duke　of　Bedford；　who　was　riding　with　the　King　and　Lord　Warwick；　in　deep　consultation；　while　Sir　Nigel　Baird；　Lord　Marmion；　and　the　rest　were　in　the　rear。　　He　fell　into　a　mood　of　depression　such　as　had　not　come　upon　him　since　he　passed　the　border；　thinking　himself　despised　by　all　for　being　ill…favoured　and　ill…dressed；　and　chafing；　above　all；　at　the　gay　contempt　he　fancied　in　young　Ralf　Percy's　eye。　　He　became　constantly　more　discontented　with　this　noisy　turmoil；　and　more　resolved　to　insist　on　returning　to　the　peaceful　cloister　where　alone　he　could　hide　his　head　and　be　at　rest。

The　troop　halted　for　what　they　called　their　noon　meat　at　the　abode　of　a　hospitable　Yorkshire　knight；　but　King　Henry；　in　order　that　the　good　gentleman's　means　should　not　be　overtasked；　had　given　directions　that　only　the　ladies　and　the　princes　should　enter　the　house；　while　the　rest　of　the　suite　should　take　their　meal　at　the　village　inn。

King　James；　in　attending　to　Joan；　had　entirely　forgotten　his　cousin；　and　Malcolm；　doubtful　and　diffident；　was　looking　hesitatingly　at　the　gateway；　when　Ralf　Percy　called　out；　'Ha！　you　there；　this　is　our　way。　That　is　only　for　the　royal　folk；　but　there's　good　sack　and　better　sport　down　here！　　I'll　show　you　the　way；'　he　added；　good…naturedly；　softened；　as　most　were；　by　the　startled；　wistful；　timid　look。

Malcolm；　ashamed　to　say　he　was　royal；　but　surprised　at　the　patronage；　was　gratefully　following；　when　old　Bairdsbrae　indignantly　laid　his　hand　on　the　rein。　　'Not　so；　Sir；　this　is　no　place　for　you！'

'Let　me　alone！'　entreated　Malcolm；　as　he　saw　Percy's　amazed　look　and　whistle　of　scorn。　　'They　don't　want　me。'

'You　will　never　have　your　place　if　you　do　not　take　it；'　said　the　old　gentleman；　and　leading　the　trembling；　shrinking　boy　up　to　the　door；　he　continued；　'For　the　honour　of　Scotland；　Sir！'　and　then　announcing　Malcolm　by　his　rank　and　title；　he　almost　thrust　him　in。

Fancying　he　detected　a　laugh　on　Ralf　Percy's　face；　and　a　sneer　on　that　of　the　stout　English　porter；　Malcolm　felt　doubly　wretched　as　he　was　ushered　into　the　hall　and　the　buzz　of　talk　and　the　confusion　made　by　the　attendance　of　the　worthy　knight　and　his　many　sons；　one　of　whom；　waiting　with　better　will　than　skill；　had　nearly　run　down　the　shy　limping　Scotsman；　who　looked　wildly　for　refuge　at　some　table。　　In　his　height　of　distress；　a　kindly　gesture　of　invitation　beckoned　to　him；　and　he　found　himself　seated　and　addressed；　first　in　French；　and　then　in　careful　foreign　English；　by　the　same　lady　whom　he　had　yesterday　taken　for　Joan　of　Somerset；　namely；　Esclairmonde　de　Luxemburg。

He　was　too　much　confused　to　look　up　till　the　piece　of　pasty　and　the　wine　with　which　the　lady　had　caused　him　to　be　supplied　were　almost　consumed；　and　it　was　not　till　she　had　made　some　observations　on　the　journey　that　he　became　at　ease　enough　to　hazard　any　sort　of　answer；　and　then　it　was　in　his　sweet　low　Scottish　voice；　with　that　irresistibly　attractive　look　of　shy　wistful　gratitude　in　his　great　soft　brown　eyes；　while　his　un…English　accent　caused　her　to　say；　'I　am　a　stranger　here；　like　yourself；　my　Lord；'　and　at　the　same　moment　he　first　raised　his　eyes　to　behold　what　seemed　to　him　perfect　beauty　and　dignity；　an　oval　face；　richly…tinted　olive　complexion；　dark　pensive　eyes；　a　sweet　grave　mouth　smiling　with　encouraging　kindness；　and　a　lofty　brow　that　gave　the　whole　face　a　magnificent　air；　not　so　much　stately　as　above　and　beyond　this　world。　　It　might　have　befitted　St。　Barbara　or　St。　Katherine；　the　great　intellectual　virgin　visions　of　purity　and　holiness　of　the　middle　ages；　but　the　kindness　of　the　smile　went　to　Malcolm's　heart；　and　emboldened　him　to　answer　in　his　best　French；　'You　are　from　Holland；　lady？'

'Not　from　the　fens；'　she　answered。　　'My　home　lies　in　the　borders　of　the　forest　of　Ardennes。'

And　then　they　found　that　they　understood　each　other　best　when　she　spoke　French；　and　Malcolm　English；　or　rather　Scotch；　and　their　acquaintance　made　so　much　progress；　that　when　the　signal　was　again　given　to　mount；　the　Lady　Esclairmonde　permitted　Malcolm　to　assist　her　to　her　saddle；　and　as　he　rode　beside　her　he　felt　pleased　with　himself；　and　as　if　Ralf　Percy　were　welcome　to　look　at　him　now。

On　Esclairmonde's　other　hand　there　rode　a　small；　slight　girl；　whom　Malcolm　took　for　quite　a　child；　and　paid　no　attention　to；　but　presently　old　Sir　Lewis　Robsart　rode　back　with　a　message　that　my　Lady　of　Westmoreland　wished　to　know　where　the　Lady　Alice　Montagu　was。　　A　gentle；　timid　voice　answered；　'O　Sir；　I　am　well　here　with　Lady　Esclairmonde。　　Pray　tell　my　good　lady　so。'

And　therewith　Sir　Lewis　smiled；　and　said；　'You　could　scarcely　be　in　better　hands；　fair　damsel；'　and　rode