Read The Last of the Barons — Complete Page 77


  CHAPTER V. THE MEETING OF HASTINGS AND KATHERINE.

  The next morning, while Edward was engaged in levying from his opulentcitizens all the loans he could extract, knowing that gold is the sinewof war; while Worcester was manning the fortress of the Tower, in whichthe queen, then near her confinement, was to reside during the campaign;while Gloucester was writing commissions to captains and barons to raisemen; while Sir Anthony Lord Rivers was ordering improvements in hisdainty damasquine armour, and the whole Fortress Palatine was animatedand alive with the stir of the coming strife,--Lord Hastings escapedfrom the bustle, and repaired to the house of Katherine. Withwhat motive, with what intentions, was not known clearly tohimself,--perhaps, for there was bitterness in his very love forKatherine, to enjoy the retaliation due to his own wounded pride, andsay to the idol of his youth, as he had said to Gloucester, "Time is,time was;" perhaps with some remembrance of the faith due to Sibyll,wakened up the more now that Katherine seemed actually to escape fromthe ideal image into the real woman,--to be easily wooed and won. But,certainly, Sibyll's cause was not wholly lost, though greatly shaken andendangered, when Lord Hastings alighted at Lady Bonville's gate; but hisface gradually grew paler, his mien less assured, as he drew nearer andnearer to the apartment and the presence of the widowed Katherine.

  She was seated alone, and in the same room in which he had lastseen her. Her deep mourning only served, by contrasting the pale andexquisite clearness of her complexion, to enhance her beauty. Hastingsbowed low, and seated himself by her side in silence.

  The Lady of Bonville eyed him for some moments with an unutterableexpression of melancholy and tenderness. All her pride seemed to havegone; the very character of her face was changed: grave severity hadbecome soft timidity, and stately self-control was broken into theunmistaken struggle of hope and fear.

  "Hastings--William!" she said, in a gentle and low whisper, and at thesound of that last name from those lips, the noble felt his veins thrilland his heart throb. "If," she continued, "the step I have taken seemsto thee unwomanly and too bold, know, at least, what was my design andmy excuse. There was a time" (and Katherine blushed) "when, thou knowestwell, that, had this hand been mine to bestow, it would have been hiswho claimed the half of this ring." And Katherine took from a smallcrystal casket the well-remembered token.

  "The broken ring foretold but the broken troth," said Hastings, avertinghis face.

  "Thy conscience rebukes thy words," replied Katherine, sadly; "I pledgedmy faith, if thou couldst win my father's word. What maid, and that maida Nevile, could so forget duty and honour as to pledge thee more? Wewere severed. Pass--oh, pass over that time! My father loved me dearly;but when did pride and ambition ever deign to take heed of the wildfancies of a girl's heart? Three suitors, wealthy lords, whose alliancegave strength to my kindred in the day when their very lives depended ontheir swords, were rivals for Earl Salisbury's daughter. Earl Salisburybade his daughter choose. Thy great friend and my own kinsman, DukeRichard of York, himself pleaded for thy rivals. He proved to me that mydisobedience--if, indeed, for the first time, a child of my House coulddisobey its chief--would be an external barrier to thy fortune; thatwhile Salisbury was thy foe, he himself could not advance thy valiancyand merit; that it was with me to forward thy ambition, though I couldnot reward thy love; that from the hour I was another's, my mightykinsmen themselves--for they were generous--would be the first to aidthe duke in thy career. Hastings, even then I would have prayed, atleast, to be the bride, not of man, but God. But I was trained--as whatnoble demoiselle is not?--to submit wholly to a parent's welfare and hiswill. As a nun, I could but pray for the success of my father's cause;as a wife, I could bring to Salisbury and to York the retainers andstrongholds of a baron. I obeyed. Hear me on. Of the three suitors formy hand, two were young and gallant,--women deemed them fair and comely;and had my choice been one of these, thou mightest have deemed that anew love had chased the old. Since choice was mine, I chose the manlove could not choose, and took this sad comfort to my heart, 'He, theforsaken Hastings, will see in my very choice that I was but the slaveof duty, my choice itself my penance.'"

  Katherine paused, and tears dropped fast from her eyes. Hastings heldhis hand over his countenance, and only by the heaving of his heart washis emotion visible. Katherine resumed:--

  "Once wedded, I knew what became a wife. We met again; and to thy firstdisdain and anger (which it had been dishonour in me to soothe by oneword that said, 'The wife remembers the maiden's love'),--to these,thy first emotions, succeeded the more cruel revenge, which would havechanged sorrow and struggle to remorse and shame. And then, then--weakwoman that I was!--I wrapped myself in scorn and pride. Nay, I felt deepanger--was it unjust?--that thou couldst so misread and so repay theheart which had nothing left save virtue to compensate for love. Andyet, yet, often when thou didst deem me most hard, most proof againstmemory and feeling--But why relate the trial? Heaven supported me, andif thou lovest me no longer, thou canst not despise me."

  At these last words Hastings was at her feet, bending over her hand, andstifled by his emotions. Katherine gazed at him for a moment through herown tears, and then resumed:--

  "But thou hadst, as man, consolations no woman would desire or covet.And oh, what grieved me most was, not--no, not the jealous, thewounded vanity, but it was at least this self-accusation, thisremorse--that--but for one goading remembrance, of love returned andlove forsaken,--thou hadst never so descended from thy younger nature,never so trifled with the solemn trust of TIME. Ah, when I have heard orseen or fancied one fault in thy maturer manhood, unworthy of thy brightyouth, anger of myself has made me bitter and stern to thee; and ifI taunted or chid or vexed thy pride, how little didst thou know thatthrough the too shrewish humour spoke the too soft remembrance! Forthis--for this; and believing that through all, alas! my image was notreplaced, when my hand was free, I was grateful that I might still--"(the lady's pale cheek grew brighter than the rose, her voice faltered,and became low and indistinct)--"I might still think it mine to atoneto thee for the past. And if," she added, with a sudden and generousenergy, "if in this I have bowed my pride, it is because by pride thouwert wounded; and now, at last, thou hast a just revenge."

  O terrible rival for thee, lost Sibyll! Was it wonderful that, whilethat head drooped upon his breast, while in that enchanted change whichLove the softener makes in lips long scornful, eyes long proud and cold,he felt that Katherine Nevile--tender, gentle, frank without boldness,lofty without arrogance--had replaced the austere dame of Bonville, whomhe half hated while he wooed,--oh, was it wonderful that the soul ofHastings fled back to the old time, forgot the intervening vows and morechill affections, and repeated only with passionate lips, "Katherine,loved still, loved ever, mine, mine, at last!"

  Then followed delicious silence, then vows, confessions, questions,answers,--the thrilling interchange of hearts long divided, and nowrushing into one. And time rolled on, till Katherine, gently breakingfrom her lover, said,--

  "And now that thou hast the right to know and guide my projects,approve, I pray thee, my present purpose. War awaits thee, and we mustpart a while!" At these words her brow darkened and her lip quivered."Oh, that I should have lived to mourn the day when Lord Warwick,untrue to Salisbury and to York, joined his arms with Lancaster andMargaret,--the day when Katherine could blush for the brother she haddeemed the glory of her House! No, no" (she continued, as Hastingsinterrupted her with generous excuses for the earl, and allusion to theknown slights he had received),--"no, no; make not his cause the worseby telling me that an unworthy pride, the grudge of some thwart to hispolicy or power, has made him forget what was due to the memory of hiskinsman York, to the mangled corpse of his father Salisbury. Thinkestthou that but for this I could--" She stopped, but Hastings divined herthought, and guessed that, if spoken, it had run thus: "That I could,even now, have received the homage of one who departs to meet, withbanner and clarion, my brother as his foe?"

  The lovely sweetness of
the late expression had gone from Katherine'sface, and its aspect showed that her high and ancestral spirit hadyielded but to one passion. She pursued,--

  "While this strife lasts, it becomes my widowhood and kindred positionwith the earl to retire to the convent my mother founded. To-morrow Idepart."

  "Alas!" said Hastings, "thou speakest of the strife as if but a singlefield. But Warwick returns not to these shores, nor bows himself toleague with Lancaster, for a chance hazardous and desperate, as Edwardtoo rashly deems it. It is in vain to deny that the earl is prepared fora grave and lengthened war, and much I doubt whether Edward can resisthis power; for the idolatry of the very land will swell the ranks of sodread a rebel. What if he succeed; what if we be driven into exile, asHenry's friends before us; what if the king-maker be the king-dethroner?Then, Katherine, then once more thou wilt be at the best of thy hostilekindred, and once more, dowered as thou art, and thy womanhood still inits richest bloom, thy hand will be lost to Hastings."

  "Nay, if that be all thy fear, take with thee this pledge,--thatWarwick's treason to the House for which my father fell dissolveshis power over one driven to disown him as a brother,--knowing EarlSalisbury, had he foreseen such disgrace, had disowned him as a son.And if there be defeat and flight and exile, wherever thou wanderest,Hastings, shall Katherine be found beside thee. Fare thee well, and OurLady shield thee! may thy lance be victorious against all foes,--saveone. Thou wilt forbear my--that is, the earl!" And Katherine, softenedat that thought, sobbed aloud.

  "And come triumph or defeat, I have thy pledge?" said Hastings, soothingher.

  "See," said Katherine, taking the broken ring from the casket; "now, forthe first time since I bore the name of Bonville, I lay this relic on myheart; art thou answered?"