*CHAPTER V.*
*A CHANGE IN ROGER'S DESTINY.*
"We shall be together, my Lord and I, While the crowds around us come and go; When false hearts wander, and true hearts die, My Friend will still be mine own, I know." --SARAH DOUDNEY.
On the wide cushioned seat in the window, Mr. Robesart sat down, andLawrence placed himself in front, waiting to be questioned. He had towait in silence for a few moments, while the priest seemed lost inthought; then he turned back to the child.
"Now, my son, I would have some talk with thee. I am faint to find thouhast thought on my words at parting. Hast thou done them, LawrenceMadison?"
"Mean you, Father, if I have asked at our Lord that He would go with mewhithersoever I went?"
"That mean I, my son."
"Aye, nearly alway, Father," said Lawrence, lifting a pair of honesteyes to his friend's face, and adding more shyly, "I forgat sometimes."
"Good lad! Take thou God's blessing and mine"--and Mr. Robesart laidhis hand on the boy's head. "Hath He been with thee, Lawrence?"
Lawrence looked up in some surprise. Mr. Robesart's question suggestedtwo entirely new ideas: that prayers might have some result attached tothem, and that the presence of God was something which he could know andfeel. Hitherto he had always looked upon praying as something which hadto be done--a good work, and the saying of good words--but a work whichhad no possible connection with any source or consequence. As a childonce said, Lawrence "had plenty of think in him," but he sadly wantedteaching how to put his thoughts to practical purpose. The thoughts nowcame so fast that the words were slow. Mr. Robesart was wise, andwaited for them. How many priceless opportunities have been thrownaway, through not waiting quite long enough at such moments! For onetemptation to be silent when we ought to speak, are there not a score tospeak when we ought to be silent?
"Father! How can I know?" came at last.
"If He never went with thee, thou canst not know," was the pithy answer."That which one hath not, how can he lose or miss?"
Lawrence was silent, playing with one of the bright buttons of his tunicin a style which indicated that his thoughts were not on the button.
"There is one manner, my son," then continued the priest, "wherein Godgoeth with all men--in His providence as their Creator and Preserver.Were He not ever with thee after this fashion, thou wouldst not live amoment. But it is after another manner that he goeth with Hisbeloved--as their Father and Friend. Is He that to thee?"
"There be different sorts of fathers," said Lawrence, meditatively.
"Aye. Alas for the human fathers that do misturn[#] the heavenlyFather! It is only the good, true, and loving, my child, that be intheir lesser way like God."
[#] Pervert, misrepresent.
"Like my sometime Lord was to him?" said Lawrence, with brighteningeyes, and a nod towards the door of the inner chamber.
Mr. Robesart smiled a little sadly. "Aye, Lawrence. Take thou forexample the best and truest thou hast known, but remember that he mustneeds fall far behind."
Lawrence went back to the button, uttering his thoughts in a low voice,as if he spoke to it rather than to the priest.
"He alway loved to have my little Lord at his knee," he reflected inthis manner. "And he used to lift him up, and kiss him. And if he werein any trouble, my Lord would stay and hear him, even were it to his owntravail. And had he been hither this morrow, I reckon it should havegone nigh to break his heart to see him thus.--Father Robesart! Doth GodAlmighty care for any man like _that_?"
"He cares like that for thee, Lawrence Madison."
Mr. Robesart paused an instant, and Lawrence thought the sentence wasfinished. But it was not, for one word followed it. "If----"
"If what?" said the boy quickly.
"If thou wilt have it so."
"If I will have it! Father Robesart, never nobody loved me! Never, inall my life!"
"Then see thou reject not the love which passeth all loves."
"What am I to do?"
"What doth any with love? Take it--enjoy it--return it--do thy littlebest for Him that giveth it."
"But serve him, _how_?" It sounded to Lawrence like telling a serfchild lying in the mire to rise and offer the golden cup to a king.Would the great nobles around the throne ever permit him to approach it?A dim idea pervaded his brain that Father Robesart, as a priest, couldgive him a passport through the ranks of the angels. But the answerbrought him back to earth again.
"My son, thou servest God when thou servest any whom God loveth."
"Doth God love my Lord? I suppose He will, being thus noble."
"'Not many noble are called,'" said Mr. Robesart, speaking rather tohimself than to Lawrence. "Yet 'I will be a God to thee, and to thyseed after thee.' Aye, little Lawrence, I cannot doubt it. God teachthee, poor child, better than I can! Remember, my son, that thouservest not God in following thy little Lord into sin and mischief.Thou wilt serve God by keeping him out thereof."
"My Lord bade me so keep him--my Lord of March, I would say, not he ofArundel. I misdoubt if he care."
"Poor children!" repeated the priest sorrowfully. "Tell me, Lawrence,what would thy little Lord with the Bible?"
"Was it wrong to get that, Father?"
"Assuredly it was wrong to steal the key."
"O Father, we never stole it! We only took it when Sir Gerard left itbehind him."
Mr. Robesart smiled and shook his head. "Ye stole it, my son. What isit but stealing to take a thing which he that ought[#] it would notyield unto you? But what wanted my Lord with the book?"
[#] Owned.
"Please, Father, he desired much to read the same, and my old Lady hisgrandmother had bidden him so to do. And he heard--leastwise I heard,and he asked at me--my Lord of Arundel once to say that he would nothave him lay finger thereon; so he was set on it."
Another very pitying smile parted the lips of Mr. Robesart. "I marvelwhether the bidding or the forbidding were the more tempting bait! Poorlittle child!"
"Please, Father----"
"Speak thy will, my son."
"Will my Lord get well again?"
"I trust, if it be our Lord's pleasure, he shall do well, my son."
"Oh, I am so glad!" And Lawrence's sparkling eyes by no means beliedhis words.
"Dost thou love thy little Lord, Lawrence?"
"Aye, Father--so much! Please, there never was any body else but himand Beattie." Lawrence was very near adding, "and you." A feeling ofreverence restrained him, but he might have done it safely.
"Who is Beattie?"
"Blumond's Beattie--at the fishmonger's at Usk."
"Oh! I know. A good child."
"May I love Beattie, please, Father?"
"Thou mayest love who so thou wilt, and as much as ever thou wilt, solong as thou lovest our Lord first and most."
"Whoever I will?"
"Certainly. Who dost thou think too great to be loved?"
"Not great, exactly; but--Father Robesart, might I love you? I neverthought I dare, before."
Mr. Robesart was more touched than he thought it well to let Lawrencesee. But he did what nobody had ever done to the boy in all hislife--he stooped and kissed him. It was an affirmative of the strongesttype, and Lawrence felt it so.
Roger's recovery was more rapid than any one about him had anticipated.His body seemed as active and as easily impressed as his mind, as muchsubject to ups and downs, and generally either on the top of the mount,or in the bottom of the valley: the transition was quick from one to theother, and he was never in either position for long.
Three years more passed uneventfully, until Roger and Lawrence were boysof twelve years old. Both had developed their respective characters.Roger was beginning to see that the lesson-books which he had in olddays unreasonably detested, were machines for imparting knowledge andpower. If he were only a little older, his own master, and out in thew
orld, what could he not do! The change in his case was more or lessradical, for he was learning to govern himself. He had drawn no closerto the Arundel family. He disliked them every one--from the Earl to hisyoungest child: but most especially he disliked Alice, his betrothed.When he grew to manhood he would pay the fine, and rid himself of thatgalling bond. He did not care for girls: he wanted to feel free.
The change which had taken place in Lawrence Madison was only in thedirection of growth. The fetters of service and etiquette pressedlightly upon him, for he loved his young Lord more than he had everloved his own brothers; and love makes fetters sit easily. Lawrence didnot care for power, as Roger did: but for knowledge his thirst wasinsatiable. And above all he longed for the knowledge of God--for therealisation of that Presence of which the priest had spoken to him.Like a flower shooting in the spring-time, he kept his face ever towardsthe light, hoping to reach it some day. Sir Gerard said he was not likea boy. Master Salveyn opined that the lad had a bee in his hood.Mistress Grenestede shook her head with an assumption of superiorwisdom, and murmured that such lads as Lawrence Madison died early.
Outside, matters went quietly enough so far as the boys were concerned,till on the third of April, 1383, shortly after the birth of herdaughter Margaret, the Countess of Arundel died. Little care as she hadtaken of them, yet the children felt a blank when she was gone.
Not many weeks after the death of the Countess, when the early roseswere just beginning to bud, Mistress Grenestede came into the room wherethe children were studying under Sir Gerard, in a state of someexcitement.
"Give you good den,[#] Sir Gerard! Here is somewhat befallen one ofyour chicks, for sure!"
[#] Day.
"Take me with you,[#] good Mistress?"
[#] Explain yourself.
"Why, 'tis him," said the ungrammatical lady, nodding towards Roger."Who but my Lady Princess hath sent for to have him to come and speakwith her?"
At this date, there was in the kingdom but one Princess. The daughtersof the monarch did not bear that title until the accession of the Houseof Stuart. "My Lady Princess," therefore, meant Joan of Kent, widow ofthe Black Prince, and mother of King Richard. She had been in her earlyyouth a very giddy girl, and had sobered down in later life, under theinstrumentality of Wycliffe, into the chief nursing mother of theLollard Church. Her influence with her royal son was powerful, and shewas one of the three practical rulers of England at this juncture. Forthe Princess to send for Roger might therefore mean something of greaterimport than a mere impulse of kindliness from a lady to a child.
"Is that sooth?"[#] demanded Sir Gerard, almost as excited as MistressGrenestede.
[#] Truth.
"True as truth, I do ensure you. What shall hap of it, think you?"
"Dear heart, who wist? Shall it be now?"
"Nay, time enough. To-morrow. My Lord bade me don him in his bestarray, and at eight o' the clock Sir Lewis Clifford shall come for him."
"Who for?" demanded Roger, quite as ungrammatically, and looking up withan eager expression in his eyes.
"Lo' you now, if he be not a-hearkening!--Why, for you, fair Lord. Ateight o' the clock to-morrow."
"Who cometh for me?"
"Sir Lewis de Clifford, Knight of the Body to my Lady Princess. Nowhark you, sweet Lord; I trust you shall be of gentle conditions--not toomasterful, nor yet abashed,[#] but with good manners. 'Tis a greatthing for a young gentleman like you to be sent for to my Lady thePrincess."
[#] Frightened, nervous.
"She's only a woman!" said Roger, trying to hit the inkstand with apaper pellet. "Why did the King not send for me himself?"
"Good lack, sweet Lord, but you must never be thus masterful! The King,quotha!"
"The King doth what he will," said Sir Gerard, reprovingly.
"I would, if I were king," responded Roger, aiming another pellet at theinkstand.
"Love us, all the saints!" ejaculated Mistress Grenestede.
"The cockerel crows well, trow?" said Sir Gerard with a laugh. "Lookyou, good Mistress, he hath the Blood in him. 'Tis no wonder. But havea care, my good Lord, that you use not over much homeliness[#] toward myLady Princess."
[#] Do not be too familiar.
"What would she with me?"
"Nay, who wist? Carry yourself well and seemly, and you shall see."
"Shall Lolly go with me?"
Mistress Grenestede was about to exclaim, "Nay, for sure!" but shestopped and looked at Sir Gerard.
"His Lordship were better have an elder serving-man," answered thetutor.
"If Lolly must not go, I won't be good!"
"Heard any ever the like!"
"Then my Lord must needs send word by Sir Lewis that your Lordship is sonaughty a lad, you be not fit to go speak with my Lady's Grace?"
Sir Gerard calculated rightly that this consideration would have someweight. Roger was sensitive to the opinions of other people, andparticularly of those much above him in rank.
"I don't see why Lolly could not go!" said he with a pout.
"We shall see," said the tutor. "Perchance, if your Lordship orderyourself after his will, my Lord may give leave that you shall choosewhom you list."
The Earl, on being appealed to, carelessly replied that Roger might takethe man in the moon, if he wished it, provided he were fittinglyattired. Roger, who had got over his pet--indeed, his pets were lessfrequent than they used to be--submitted with nothing more than a littleimpatience to the tedious ceremony of his own arraying. MistressGrenestede was very particular, for she desired Roger to make a goodimpression on the Princess, upon whom she looked with very differenteyes from his. When the young Earl's attiring was over, he foundhimself in a long robe of apple-green satin, edged with cloth of gold,ruby-coloured hose, over which the garter was clasped, and a cap adornedwith a very full, long plume of white feathers. His shoes wereslate-coloured, with a red diamond pattern. Gold buttons ran all downhis sleeves: a rich golden girdle, set with gems, clasped his waist; agolden collar, with diamonds and rubies, was round his neck; and, incompliment to the Princess, her badge of the white hart gorged andcouchant was suspended at his breast from a rich gold chain. Thussplendidly arrayed, Roger marched into the hall, where three personsawaited him, clad in his own livery, blue and gold, guarded with white.These were two squires and Lawrence. With considerable impatience theyoung Earl sat on the form awaiting Sir Lewis Clifford, who was punctualto his time, though Roger could hardly believe it. The party thenmounted their horses, and rode away to Kennington Palace, where thePrincess was at that time.
Kennington Palace was then in a neighbourhood at least as rural asHampton Court is now. Sir Lewis led his youthful charge, followed bythe attendants, into a pleasant chamber hung with yellow say andpanelled with cedar. Here were two ladies and a gentleman--the formerseated at work, the latter standing in the window. Sir Lewis, leadingRoger up to one of the ladies, dropped on one knee to say--
"Here is the young Lord of March, to wait on my Lady's Grace."
"Here is the young Lord of March, to wait on my Lady'sGrace."]
With some curiosity Roger looked up, and saw a short, smiling,exceedingly fat woman, clad in a crimson damask dress embroidered withrings of gold. Threads of silver were mingled with her golden hair, andthe remains of what had been extreme beauty could be traced in hercountenance.
"Come hither, little Cousin," said the Princess affably, smiling allover her plump face. "Of a truth, I am right glad to see thee. I cango visit none now, for I am so fat I may scarce mount mine horse. Didstever behold a woman fatter than I?"
Roger's head squire, who had been spending considerable pains incoaching him for this interview, was horrified to hear him reply withcharming candour--
"No, Dame; that did I never."
"Why, thou sayest well!" laughed the Princess, evidently not in theleast offended. "Alway speak truth, fair Cousin."
"So do I," answered Roger rather proudly. "My Lady my grandmot
her toldme ever so to do; and she learned me two sayings by the which I shouldrule me, and I so will. Under your pleasure, Dame," he added in aninstant, with a sudden recollection of the squire's instructions andthose of Sir Gerard.
"Come, tell me what they were!" responded the Princess, coaxingly."Thou lovest my Lady thy grandmother, that can I see."
"Well, I did, middling, Dame," said Roger, coolly. "Howbeit she wereonly a woman."
The squire was ready to sink into the earth, till he was relieved by thePrincess leaning back in her gilded chair with a burst of the heartiestlaughter.
"Gramercy, little Cousin, but thou art right covenable![#] I see, weshall be good friends. But I desire thy two sayings. Tell me thesame."
[#] Agreeable, amusing.
Roger repeated them rather proudly.
"'_Fais ce que doy, advienne que pourra:_' '_Un_ and _Dieu, un Roy,servir je doy._'"
"And dost mean to rule thee by them?" asked the Princess, still smiling.
"That do I, Dame. I will serve God and the King to my power, but noneother."
"He will do, trow?" said the Princess, looking up at somebody whom Rogerhad not previously noticed. His eyes followed hers, and he saw standingon her right hand a young man of eighteen, clad in a tunic of blackbaldekyn, figured with red balls and purplish-gray flowers. Above itwas a white tippet; the sleeves were red, with gold cuffs; and he woreyellow shoes with a red pattern.[#] He was of short stature and slightfigure: his complexion was of feminine fairness, his hair flaxen tingedwith gold, his eyes blue and dove-like. So great was his soft andpathetic beauty, that artists selected his face as the model for "thatFace which now outshines the cherubim."
[#] This is King Richard's costume in the Golden Book of St. Albans.
Something in the face won Roger's heart. What it was he did not knowhimself. It was, in truth, a vague remembrance of that fair youngmother who had passed away from him so early, and a likeness to whom hedetected without recognising it, in the face before him. Anaffectionate smile from the royal cousin completed his conquest of theheart of Roger Mortimer.
"He will do, in very truth," said the King, answering his mother first:then he turned to Roger. "Be right welcome, fair Cousin: I trust to seemore of you in time coming."
"Sir," asked Roger, looking up, "be you Lord Richard the King?"
"Even so, fair Cousin. What can I do to pleasure you?"
Natures like those of Roger Mortimer are always capable of intensehero-worship. And Roger had found his hero. He dropped on one kneewithout any prompting.
"Then, Sire, I will live and die with you!"
The King unfastened from his chain of rubies a golden broom-pod wroughtwith green enamel. It was one of his own badges.
"Then shalt thou be mine own man, by thy covenant," said he, smiling,and attaching the badge to Roger's gold chain: "and thereto is mytoken."
"Why, well said!" interpolated the Princess, who seemed unable to keepsilence long. "Come hither, little Cousin--here, set a stool for myLord of March,--and tell me how it liketh thee to dwell with my Lord ofArundel."
"Not in no wise, Dame," answered Roger, boldly.
"Not in no wise, quotha! Why what ails thee at him?"
"I love him not, Dame, nor he me."
"Dear heart, here is a pity! But thou lovest my Lady Alice,trow?--though she be but a woman." The Princess's fat shoulders shookwith laughter.
"Our young cousin's chivalry is scarce fledged, methinks," said theKing.
"If you will learn me, Sire, I will do your bidding," said Roger, whodid not know what bashfulness was. "My Lady Alice, said your Grace?Good lack, but I cannot abear her!"
"Cannot bear her, quotha! Nay, now, she is to be thy wife!"
"My Lord the King's command except, that shall she never!" said Rogersturdily.
"See you, fair Son?" was the Princess's comment, with a glance at theKing. "And wouldst thou be much aggrieved, little Cousin, if thou wertto depart thence, and to dwell in another household, where thou shouldsthave jolly lads and lasses to pleasure and couldst see the King thycousin well-nigh thee, every day?"
Roger's eyes shone with delight.
"Please it you, Dame, that should like me right well. Howbeit, I hopethere should be more lads than lasses."
The Princess indulged in another hilarious convulsion.
"Thy time will come, lad!" said she, when she was able to speak. "Tillit do, thou canst lake thee with Tom, which is scarce the younger ofthee.--It shall do right well, fair Son: and I pray you heartily to setthe matter in train."
"Aye, methinks it were well done," answered the King.
But neither of them explained what was to be done, though Roger'scuriosity was intense. Manifestly, he was to be taken from the Earl ofArundel, and given in wardship to some other nobleman. That was adelightful prospect. If he could only be rid of Alice as well, Rogerthought he would be in Paradise. And the King had offered him a favour.Roger turned boldly to His Majesty.
"Sire, your Grace said you would pleasure me. Pray you, have me rid ofyon Alice. I love no maids, and her least of all."
Once more the Princess burst out laughing. The King looked quietlyamused.
"Is that the dearest wish of your heart, fair Cousin?"
"It is so, at this present, my Liege."
"He shall have a dearer anon, or I am no prophetess," exclaimed theconvulsed Princess.
"Maybe," said the King. "Well, fair Cousin, we will pleasure you inthis matter,--the rather seeing"--and he turned to his mother with asmile--"that it shall pleasure your Grace as well."
At this moment a slight noise outside preceded a scratching at the door,a lifting of the arras, and the announcement of--"My Lady's Grace ofLancaster."
The royal hosts took leave of their little guest rather hastily, yetvery kindly, and thus dismissed, Roger was reconducted to BermondseyHouse by Sir Lewis Clifford.
There was a good deal to talk over when Roger and Lawrence were safelytucked up in their respective beds.
"I say, Loll!" came from the big blue bed, "this is jolly!"
"I am glad your Lordship is well content therewith," was the response inthe quieter voice from the pallet.
"I am so fain to get rid of yon Alice!" said unchivalrous Roger. "And Iam right fain, too, to be out of this dull house. Who is Tom, I marvel,that she said I could lake me withal? Metrusteth he is a lad of somemettle, and not a dull lump of stuff like yon Jack Arundel. I would,though, he had been something elder than me in the stead of younger. Ilove not laking with children."
Master Roger was beginning to consider himself above the degradation ofchildhood. Lawrence contented himself with replying that he trusted hisLordship might find matters as should be to his satisfaction.
"Where shall it be, Loll, thinkest? I would it might be in the Palace!Aye, and said she not that I should see the King my cousin well-nighevery morrow? I would like that best of all. I could die for him,Lolly!--and shall some day, I cast no doubt."
Lawrence's reply was merely a respectful intimation that he waslistening. He was quite as ready as Roger to die for one whom he mightlove, but not by any means so ready to talk about it.
"O Lolly, I could jump up to the moon, 'tis so jolly!" and Rogerexecuted a _pas seul_ outside his bedclothes. "But I say!--I hope theyshall 'noy me with no more maids! Why can folk not leave a man be, Iwould fain wit?" demanded his Lordship, loftily, lying down again, anddrawing the satin coverlet over him, by no means tidily. "I would invery sooth I were but a bit bigger! Howbeit, I reckon we shall grow.And then, Loll, thou shalt be mine own especial knight, and shalt bearmine arms, and fight right behind me."
"I thank your good Lordship," said Lawrence dutifully, though theprospect of fighting, whether before or behind his master, was notparticularly enlivening to his mind. Could Lawrence have chosen hislot, there would have been no fighting in it.
"I reckon we shall see," went on Roger, not quite in so lively a tone."But it shall be right joll
y--any how. And I do not--I should not----"
Roger was asleep.