CHAPTER VII. HOW KING EDWARD ARRIVES AT THE CASTLE OF MIDDLEHAM.
On the ramparts of feudal Middleham, in the same place where Anne hadconfessed to Isabel the romance of her childish love, again the sistersstood, awaiting the coming of their father and the king. They had only,with their mother, reached Middleham two days before, and the precedingnight an advanced guard had arrived at the castle to announce theapproach of the earl with his royal comrade and visitor. From theheights, already they beheld the long array winding in glorious ordertowards the mighty pile.
"Look!" exclaimed Isabel, "look! already methinks I see the white steedof Clarence. Yes! it is he! it is my George, my husband! The bannerborne before shows his device."
"Ah, happy Isabel!" said Anne, sighing; "what rapture to await thecoming of him one loves!"
"My sweet Anne," returned Isabel, passing her arm tenderly round hersister's slender waist, "when thou hast conquered the vain folly of thychildhood, thou wilt find a Clarence of thine own. And yet," added theyoung duchess, smiling, "it must be the opposite of a Clarence to be tothy heart what a Clarence is to mine. I love George's gay humour,--thoulovest a melancholy brow. I love that charming weakness which supples tomy woman will,--thou lovest a proud nature that may command thine own.I do not respect George less, because I know my mind stronger than hisown; but thou (like my gentle mother) wouldst have thy mate lord andchief in all things, and live from his life as the shadow from the sun.But where left you our mother?"
"In the oratory, at prayer."
"She has been sad of late."
"The dark times darken her; and she ever fears the king's falseness orcaprice will stir the earl up to some rash emprise. My father's letter,brought last night to her, contains something that made her couchsleepless."
"Ha!" exclaimed the duchess, eagerly, "my mother confides in thee morethan me. Saw you the letter?"
"No."
"Edward will make himself unfit to reign," said Isabel, abruptly. "Thebarons will call on him to resign; and then--and then, Anne--sisterAnne,--Warwick's daughters cannot be born to be simple subjects!"
"Isabel, God temper your ambition! Oh, curb it, crush it down! Abusenot your influence with Clarence. Let not the brother aspire to thebrother's crown."
"Sister, a king's diadem covers all the sins schemed in the head thatwins it!"
As the duchess spoke, her eyes flashed and her form dilated. Her beautyseemed almost terrible.
The gentle Anne gazed and shuddered; but ere she found words to rebuke,the lovely shape of the countess-mother was seen moving slowly towardsthem. She was dressed in her robes of state to receive her kingly guest;the vest fitting high to the throat, where it joined the ermine tippet,and thickly sown with jewels; the sleeves tight, with the second or oversleeves, that, loose and large, hung pendent and sweeping even to theground; and the gown, velvet of cramousin, trimmed with ermine,--made acostume not less graceful than magnificent, and which, where compressed,set off the exquisite symmetry of a form still youthful, and whereflowing added majesty to a beauty naturally rather soft and femininethan proud and stately. As she approached her children, she lookedrather like their sister than their mother, as if Time, at least, shrunkfrom visiting harshly one for whom such sorrows were reserved.
The face of the countess was so sad in its aspect of calm and sweetresignation that even the proud Isabel was touched; and kissing hermother's hand, she asked if any ill tidings preceded her father'scoming.
"Alas, my Isabel, the times themselves are bad tidings! Your youthscarcely remembers the days when brother fought against brother, andthe son's sword rose against the father's breast. But I, recalling them,tremble to hear the faintest murmur that threatens a civil war." Shepaused, and forcing a smile to her lips, added, "Our woman fears mustnot, however, sadden our lords with an unwelcome countenance; for menreturning to their hearths have a right to a wife's smile; and so,Isabel, thou and I, wives both, must forget the morrow in to-day. Hark!the trumpets sound near and nearer! let us to the hall."
Before, however, they had reached the castle, a shrill blast rang at theouter gate. The portcullis was raised; the young Duke of Clarence, witha bridegroom's impatience, spurred alone through the gloomy arch, andIsabel, catching sight of his countenance lifted towards the ramparts,uttered a cry, and waved her hand. Clarence beard and saw, leaped fromhis steed, and had clasped Isabel to his breast, almost before Anne orthe countess had recognized the new comer.
Isabel, however, always stately, recovered in an instant from the joyshe felt at her lord's return, and gently escaping his embrace, sheglanced with a blush towards the battlements crowded with retainers;Clarence caught and interpreted the look.
"Well, belle mere," he said, turning to the countess, "and if yonfaithful followers do witness with what glee a fair bride inspiresa returning bridegroom, is there cause for shame in this cheek ofdamascene?"
"Is the king still with my father?" asked Isabel, hastily, andinterrupting the countess's reply.
"Surely, yes; and hard at hand. And pardon me that I forgot, dear lady,to say that my royal brother has announced his intention of addressingthe principal officers of the army in Middleham Hall. This news gave mefair excuse for hastening to you and Isabel."
"All is prepared for his highness," said the countess, "save our ownhomage. We must quicken our steps; come, Anne." The countess took thearm of the younger sister, while the duchess made a sign to Clarence. Helingered behind, and Isabel, drawing him aside, asked,
"Is my father reconciled to Edward?"
"No,--nor Edward to him."
"Good! The king has no soldiers of his own amidst yon armed train?"
"Save a few of Anthony Woodville's recruits, none. Raoul de Fulke andSt. John have retired to their towers in sullen dudgeon. But have you nosofter questions for my return, bella mia?"
"Pardon me, many--my king."
"King!"
"What other name should the successor of Edward IV. bear?"
"Isabel," said Clarence, in great emotion, "what is it you would temptme to? Edward IV. spares the life of Henry VI., and shall Edward IV.'sbrother conspire against his own?"
"Saints forefend!" exclaimed Isabel; "can you so wrong my honestmeaning? O George! can you conceive that your wife--Warwick'sdaughter--harbours the thought of murder? No! surely the career beforeyou seems plain and spotless! Can Edward reign? Deserted by the barons,and wearing away even my father's long-credulous love; odious! exceptin luxurious and unwarlike London, to all the commons--how reign? Whatother choice left? none,--save Henry of Lancaster or George of York."
"Were it so!" said the weak duke; and yet be added falteringly, "believeme, Warwick meditates no such changes in my favour."
"Time is a rapid ripener," answered Isabel; "but hark! they are loweringthe drawbridge for our guests."