"Was she old, too?" demanded Woodville.
"Too old for your wife, and too young for your mother," answered Ned--"somewhat on the touch of forty years."
As he spoke, there was a loud "hurrah!" from the ground adjacent to the Abbey door; a true, hearty, English shout, such as no other nation on the earth can give; and the royal procession was seen returning.
All pressed as near as they could; and Richard of Woodville gained a place in front, where he waited calmly, uncovered, for the pa.s.sing of the King.
On came the train, bishops and abbots, priests and n.o.bles, the pages, the knights, the bearers of the royal emblems; but all eyes were turned to one person, as--with a step, not haughty, but calm and firm, such as might well accord with a heart fixed and confident to keep the solemn vows so lately made, in scrupulous fidelity; with a brow elevated by high and n.o.ble purposes, more than by the splendour of the crown it bore; and with an eye lightening with genius and soul--Henry of Monmouth returned towards his palace, amidst the gratulating acclamations of his people.
Richard of Woodville saw Hal of Hadnock in the whole bearing of the monarch, as he had seen the Prince in the bearing of Hal of Hadnock, and he murmured to himself, "He is the same. "Tis but the dress is altered, either in mind or body. Excluded from the tasks of royalty, he a.s.sumed a less n.o.ble guise; but still the man was the same."
As he thus thought, the King pa.s.sed before him, looking to right and left upon the long lines of people that bordered his way, though, marching in his state, he distinguished no one by word or gesture. His eyes, indeed, fixed firmly for an instant upon Richard of Woodville, and a slight smile pa.s.sed over his lip; but he went on without farther notice; and the young gentleman turned, as soon as he had gone by, thinking, "I will seek some inn, and come to the palace tomorrow.
To-day, it is in vain."
The pressure of the mult.i.tude, however, prevented him from moving for some time, and he was forced to remain till the whole of the procession had gone by. He then made his way out of the crowd, which gradually became less compact, though few retired altogether, the greater number waiting either to discuss the events of the day, or to see if any other amus.e.m.e.nts would be afforded to the people; but it was some time before the young gentleman could find his horses, for the movements of the people had forced them from the place where they had been left. Just as he was, at length, putting his foot in the stirrup, Ned Dyram pulled his sleeve, saying, "There is a King"s page, my master, looking for some one in the crowd. Always give yourself a chance. It may be you he seeks."
"I think not," replied Richard of Woodville; "but you can join him, and inquire, if you will."
The man instantly ran off at full speed; and, though soon forced to slacken his pace amongst the people, he in the end reached the page, and asked for whom he was looking.
"A gentleman in black," replied the boy, "named Richard of Woodville."
"Then there he is," answered Ned, pointing with his hand to where his master stood; and, followed by the page, he walked quickly to the spot.
"If your name be Richard of Woodville, sir," said the boy, "the King will see you now, while he is putting off his heavy robes and taking some repose."
"I follow, young sir," replied Woodville; and, accompanying the page, he turned towards the palace, while Ned Dyram, after a moment"s hesitation, pursued the same course as his master, "in order," as he said mentally, "always to give himself a chance."
CHAPTER VIII.
THE DAY OF FESTIVAL.
Crossing through the great Hall of the palace of Westminster, where so many a varied scene has been enacted in the course of English history, where joy and sorrow, mirth, merriment, pageantry, fear, despair, and the words of death, have pa.s.sed for well nigh a thousand years, and do pa.s.s still, Richard of Woodville followed the page amidst tables and benches, serving-men, servers, guards, and ushers, till they reached a small door at the left angle, which, when opened, displayed the first steps of a small stone staircase. Up these they took their way, and then, through a corridor thronged with attendants, past the open door of a large room on the right, in which mitres and robes, crosses and swords of state, met the young gentleman"s eye, to a door at the end, which the page opened. Within was a small antechamber containing several squires and pages in their tabards, waiting either in silence, or at most talking to each other in whispers. They made way for their comrade, and the gentleman he brought with him, to pa.s.s, and, approaching an opposite door, the boy knocked. No one answered; but the door was immediately opened; and Richard of Woodville was ushered into a bedchamber, where, seated in a large chair, he found the King, attended by two men dressed in their habits of state. One of these had just given the visitor admission; but the other was engaged in pulling off the boots in which the monarch had walked to and from the Abbey, and in placing a pair of embroidered shoes upon his feet instead.
"Welcome, Richard of Woodville," said Henry, as soon as he beheld him; "so you have come to see Hal of Hadnock before you depart?"
"I have come to see my gracious Sovereign, Sire," replied Woodville, advancing, and bending the knee to kiss his hand, "and to wish him health and long life to wear his crown, for his own honour and the happiness of his people."
"Nay, rise, Richard, rise," said Henry, smiling kindly; "no court ceremonies here. And I will tell you, my good friend, that I do really believe, there is not one of all those who have shouted on my path to-day, or sworn to support my throne, who more sincerely wishes my prosperity than yourself. But say, did you guess, that Hal of Hadnock was the Prince of Wales?"
"I knew it, Sire," replied Woodville, "from the first moment you entered my uncle"s hall. I had served under your Grace"s command in Wales."
"I suspected as much," replied the monarch, "from some words you let fall."
"I do beseech you, Sire, to pardon me," continued Richard, "if I judged my duty wrongly; but I thought that so long as it was not your pleasure to give yourself your own state, it was my part, to know you only as you seemed."
"And you did right, my friend," replied the King; "but were you not tempted to breathe the secret to any one--not even to Mary Markham?"
"To no one, Sire," answered Woodville, boldly; "not for my right hand, would I have said one word to the best friend I had."
"You are wise and faithful, Richard of Woodville," said Henry, gravely; "G.o.d send me many such."
"Here is the other mantle, Sire," said the attendant who was dressing him, "will you permit me to unclasp that?"
Henry rose, and the man disengaged the royal mantle from his shoulders, replacing it with one less heavy, while the King continued his conversation with Woodville, after a momentary interruption, repeating, "G.o.d send me many such; for if I judge rightly, I shall have need of strong arms, and wise heads, and n.o.ble hearts about me.
Nor shall I fail to call for yours when I have need, my friend."
"Ah, Sire," answered Woodville, with a smile, "as far as a true heart and a strong arm may go, I can, perhaps, serve you; but for wise heads, I fear you must look elsewhere. I am but a singer of songs, you know, and a lover of old ballads."
"Like myself, Richard," replied Henry; "but none the worse for that. I know not why, but I always doubt the man that is not fond of music "Tis, perhaps, that I love it so well myself, that I cannot but think he who does not has some discordant principle in his heart that jars with sweet sounds. "Tis to me a great refreshment also; and when I have been sad or tired with all this world"s business, when my thoughts have grown misty, or my brain turned giddy, I have sat me down to the organ and played for a few moments till all has become clear again; and I have risen as a man does from a calm sleep. As for poesy, indeed, I love it well enough, but I am no poet:--and yet I think that a truly great poet is more powerful, and has a wider empire, than a king. We monarchs rule men"s bodies while we live; but their minds are beyond that sceptre, and death ends all our power. The poet rules their hearts, moulds their minds to his will, and stretches his arm over the wide future. He arrays the thoughts of countless mult.i.tudes for battle on the grand field of the world, and extends his empire to the end of time. Look at Homer,--has not the song of the blind Greek its influence yet? and so shall the verse of Chaucer be heard in years to come, long after the brow they have this day crowned shall have mouldered in the grave."
The thoughts which he had himself called up, seemed to take entire possession of the King, and he remained gazing in deep meditation for a few minutes upon the glittering emblems of royalty which lay upon the table before him, while Richard of Woodville stood silent by his side, not venturing to interrupt his reverie.
"Well, Richard," continued the King, at length rousing himself, "so you go to Burgundy? but hold yourself ready to join me when I have need."
"I am always ready, now or henceforward, Sire," answered the young gentleman, "to serve you with the best of my poor ability; and the day will be a happy one that calls me to you. I only go to seek honour in another land, because I had so resolved before I met your Highness, and because you yourself p.r.o.nounced it best for me."
"And so I think it still," replied Henry. "I would myself advance you, Woodville, but for two reasons; first, I find every office near my person filled with old and faithful servants of the crown; and, as they fall vacant, I would place in them men who have themselves won renown. Next, I think it better that your own arm and your own judgment should be your prop, rather than a King"s favour; and, as yet, there is here no opportunity. Besides, there are many other reasons why you will do well to go, in which I have not forgotten your own best interests. But keep yourself clear of long engagement to a foreign Prince, lest your own should need you."
"That I most a.s.suredly w ill, Sire," answered Richard of Woodville. "I go but to take service as a volunteer, holding myself free to quit it when I see meet. I ask no pay from any one; and if I gain honour or reward, it shall be for what I have done, not for what I am to do."
"You are right, you are right," said Henry; "but have you anything to ask of me?"
"Nothing, Sire," replied the young gentleman. "I did but wish to pay reverence to your state, and thank you for the gracious letters you have given me, before I went;" and he took a step back as if to retire. But Henry made a sign, saying--
"Stop! yet a moment; I have something to ask you.--Lay the gloves down there, Surtis. Tighten this point a little, and then retire with Baynard."
The attendants did as they were bid; and Henry then inquired, "What of Sir Henry Dacre, and of that dark evening"s work at which we were present?"
"Dacre goes with me, Sire," replied Richard of Woodville.
"Ha!" exclaimed the King; "then were we wrong in thinking he loved the other?"
"Not so," answered Woodville; ""tis a sad tale, Sire. He does love Isabel, I am sure--has long loved her, though struggling hard against such thoughts. But, as if to mar his whole happiness, that scoundrel, Roydon, whom you saw, when informed of poor Kate"s death, wrote, though he did not come, raising doubts as to whether her fate had been accidental."
"Doubts!" cried the King. "Do you entertain no doubts, Richard?"
"Many, Sire," answered the young gentleman; "but I never mention doubts that I cannot justify by proof, and will not support with my arm. But he did more; he pointed suspicion at one he knew too well to be innocent. He called up some accidental circ.u.mstances affecting Dacre--not as charges, indeed, but as matters of inquiry; made the wound and left the venom, but shrunk from the result."
"And what did Dacre?" asked the King.
"Gave him the lie, Sire," replied Woodville; "called upon him to come boldly forward, make his accusation, and support it in the lists."
"He avoided that, I"ll warrant," replied Henry; "I know him, Richard."