*CHAPTER VIII.*
*MISCALCULATION.*
"Keep them thy gifts for them that value gold Above their souls' redemption and hearts' love! What! shall I stain mine honour, lose my God, Do violence to mine heart, at such a price? This very bait the Devil fished withal For Christ our Master, urging Him to buy What was His own an hour too soon, and pay For the hour's tinsel glory, hope and peace. Go, buy the traitors that will sell their souls! From thy perfidious hand I draw mine own, Clean of its lucre and its perfidy."
An account of the state of affairs in Ireland, when Roger sailed fromHolyhead to Dublin--the fact which is supposed to underlie theenigmatical assertion of the worthy Canon of Chimay, Sir John Froissart,that the Lords sent to govern Ireland embarked from Lolighet, and landedat Dimelin--would if in detail require a volume to itself, and would bea mere list of names and battles, diversified by occasional murders. Ashort epitome of the facts is however requisite, in order to make clearmuch that follows. There were three parties at this time in Ireland,whom the English styled the Wild Irish, or Irishry; the RebelliousIrish; and the English. The first were the unsubdued natives, who hadretired to the mountains, bogs, and forests; the second, who dwelt inthe territory known as the English pale, between the Irishry and thesea, were the descendants of mixed marriages between the English andIrish; they partially adopted the customs of both countries, and weresubject to the English or not as they found it convenient: morefrequently they did not find it so. Among these we find reckoned "theButyllers, Powers, Gerardyns [Fitzgeralds], Bermynghams, Daltons,Barettes, and Dillons." The last class, the English proper, consistedof "a confused medley of soldiers, merchants, men of needy or desperatefortunes, and those whom the English government had invested withauthority: they occupied the principal towns and cities and small tractsaround them, chiefly in Leinster, and on the eastern and southerncoasts." The "rebellious English" were also termed English _by birth_,while to the "obedient English" was restricted the title of English _byblood_.
Since the death of Roger's father, Earl Edmund of March, matters hadgradually been going from bad to worse, until now the state of thingswas little removed from anarchy. "Sometimes the septs were destroyingeach other; at other times they were making inroads upon the Englishpale, or joining with the great settlers in their mutual ravages." Themost unmanageable of all the Irish chieftains at this period was ArthurMacMorogh, of Leinster, who with the Earl of Desmond wasted the wholesouth of the country at intervals. Lesser troublers to the English, butstill sufficiently vexatious, were the O'Brien in the east, and theO'Neile in Ulster. The chief helper of the government was the Earl ofOrmonde, head of the great family of Boteler. Connaught was almostentirely given up to the "wild Irish."
The appearance and tactics of King Richard restored order, and fourKings of the "wild Irish" submitted themselves to him, rather "throughlove and good-humour than by battle or force," and mainly through thepersuasions of the Earl of Ormonde. The four were, O'Neile, King ofMeath; Brian, King of Thomond; "Contruo, King of Chenour," which maymean the O'Conor; and Arthur MacMorogh himself, King of Leinster, whoclaimed to be the Ardriagh, or Lord Paramount over the whole island. AtDublin, on the 25th of March, 1395, these four chieftains were knightedby the King in St. Patrick's Cathedral, after mass, having "watched" theprevious night in the church. It may be well to note in passing thatFroissart gravely informs us that St. John the Baptist was the founderof the Cathedral. To instruct these four potentates in English customsin general, and in the ceremonies of the forthcoming solemnity inparticular, the King appointed a tutor in the person of an Englishsquire of uncertain name, called in different MSS. of Froissart and byother writers, Henry Castide, Cristeed, Cristall, and Cristelle. Thisman had long been a captive among the "wild Irish," and had married anIrish damsel. His first care was to improve the chieftains' tablemanners, which in his eyes were those of savages: the next, to inducethem to lay aside their Irish cloaks, and attire themselves in silkenrobes trimmed with fur; the third, to make them use saddles andstirrups, both which they were very unwilling to do. They appear,however, on this occasion, to have been in a most amiable andaccommodating temper. What they least liked they submitted tocheerfully, on being assured that it was the King's wish that while theywere his guests they should conform to English customs. On one point,however, they showed that they intended to listen to no instruction.When the squire tried to investigate their religious faith, "they seemedso displeased that he was forced to silence."
"We believe in God, Three in One," said the Irish Kings: "thus far thereis no difference between our creed and yours."
Their teacher would not quit the subject until he had ascertained onepoint which was in his eyes of primary importance. To what Pope didthey profess obedience? Was their pontiff the successor of St. Peterwho reigned at Rome, or the wicked schismatic who had set himself up atAvignon? In fear and trembling he put the question. He might have beeneasy; for the fierce struggle between Pope and Anti-pope had notpenetrated the bogs of the Emerald Isle. The Irish Kings at onceanswered that their Pope was at Rome.
He then asked if they would like to be made knights. They replied thatthey were knights already, for every Irish prince was made a knight byhis royal father when he was seven years of age. The squire respondedrather contemptuously that the King of England would not be satisfiedwith that kind of childish knighthood, but would create them knights inchurch with solemn ceremonies.
Shortly before this solemnity, the Earl of Ormonde paid a visit to hisroyal _proteges_. He inquired if they were satisfied with Castide--aquestion which they answered like gentlemen.
"Perfectly. He has prudently and wisely taught us the manners andusages of his country, for which we ought to be obliged, and do thankhim."
The Earl then gave them a full explanation of the honour about to bedone them, and the ceremonies which would attend it, laying stress onthe great value which they ought to set upon it. The four Kings seem tohave behaved admirably. They allowed themselves to be richly dressed,of course in the English manner: and let us hope that it did not includecracowes, those ridiculous boots which tapered to a point, and precededtheir wearer by several inches,--for these must have been wofulinflictions upon an Irish chieftain, accustomed either to wear no bootsat all, or to tie on simply "the dun deer's hide." They dined at KingRichard's table, where, said Master Castide, "they were much stared atby the Lords and those present--not indeed without reason; for they werestrange figures, and differently countenanced to the English or othernations. We are naturally inclined to gaze at anything strange,"naively added the squire, "and it was certainly, Sir John, at that time,a great novelty to see four Irish Kings."
Castide's opinion is worth record as to the reasons why the Irishsubmitted themselves so readily. He thought the "rebellious English"were alarmed at the blockade of their coasts, which was so strict that"neither provision nor merchandise could be landed": but he admittedthat the "wild Irish" cared nothing for this, since they lived byhunting, and were strangers to commerce. Their reason, he considered,was the personal respect which they bore to King Richard, whom theyaccounted to be a prudent and conscientious man, and whose reverence forthe memory of Edward the Confessor was shared by themselves,--a factundisturbed by any inconvenient knowledge that Richard, if not the IrishKings also, had at least as much sanctity about him as Edward theConfessor. How that most unamiable of men, whose cruelty as a husbandwas only equalled by his irreverence as a son, ever came to be canonisedand honoured as Saint Edward, must be left as one of the many insolubleenigmas which Rome propounds to the crushed hearts, smotheredintelligences, and stifled consciences of her votaries. For any otherreason, Castide remitted it to the grace of God. The Canon of Chimay,whose exquisite naive simplicity at times cuts sharply as a knife, madeanswer, with more wit than he was aware, that "the grace of God is good,and of infinite value to those who can obtain it: but we see few lo
rdsnow-o'-days augment their territories otherwise than by force."
The campaign thus ended, Roger returned to England in company with hisroyal cousin, and rejoined his family in London on May, 1395, much tothe satisfaction of both himself and Lawrence Madison, who greatlypreferred to follow his master out of battle rather than into it, thoughhe wisely kept to himself that sentiment, which would only have earnedhim a character for cowardice. On very few men had the idea then dawnedthat any person could love peace for other reasons than laziness andfear of being hurt. The two characteristics of King Richard which hisuncle Gloucester specially detested and despised were his religiousopinions, and his dislike to war and tumult. It might truly be said,paradox though it be, that Gloucester was never at peace except when hewas at war.
During the twelve months following his return to London, Roger kepthimself exceedingly quiet. It was the only safe thing he could do. Itis said that an eminent man was asked how, being a resident in Paris, hecontrived to live through the Reign of Terror. "I made myself of noreputation, and kept silence," was the significant answer. The Earl ofMarch followed the same plan.
The beginning of 1395 was characterised by a strong agitation againstthe Lollard party, provoked by a very bold step on their part. Sir JohnOldcastle, afterwards Lord Cobham, issued his "Book of Conclusions"--anepitome of Lollard doctrines, as well as a damaging attack on theopposite party--which was presented to Parliament by Lord Latimer andSir Richard Stury, and posted up on the doors of St. Paul's Cathedraland the gates of Westminster Abbey. The two Archbishops took alarm ingood earnest. They were strongly opposed to the "new" doctrines--whichwere not new, but as old as Christianity itself--and they rightly judgedthat unless these views had been spreading considerably in secret, theywould scarcely have made this flourishing appearance in public. KingRichard must be appealed to, and entreated to put down this unwelcomemanifestation with the strong arm of the law: and the astute prelateswell knew that only at one point, like Achilles, was Richard vulnerableon the Lollard question. The religious views were his own, and he wouldlisten to no diatribe against them. But the political aspirations of theadvanced Lollards he dreaded and disliked as much as the hierarchy.Archbishop Courtenay trusted to no tongue less skilful than his own thetask of winning the King over. He started for Ireland without delay,taking with him Bishop Braybroke, a prelate whom the King liked andrespected. Richard, the most open and unsuspicious of men, was no matchfor one of the wiliest priests who ever wore a mitre. Under hisdexterous hands he was induced to believe that the political aims of theadvanced section included his own deposition--the exact contrary was thetruth--and the beloved Queen, who had hitherto always guided his sceptreon this point, was now beyond the fitful fever of earthly tumults."Never was there King of England who so easily believed what was toldhim," says the chronicler Froissart, who knew Richard personally.
The King, thus influenced, departed from the course approved by his ownbetter judgment, and for one moment swerved from that kindly supportwhich he had always given hitherto to the Lollard party. He calledbefore him the four most prominent Lollards then in his suite--LordLatimer, Sir John Montacute, Sir Lewis Clifford, and Sir RichardStury--and sharply rebuked them for their favour shown to traitors, witha threat of expulsion from the household if they did not change theirpolitical aspect. Latimer, Clifford, and Stury, were terrified,especially the last, who fell upon his knees and vowed that he wouldnever do it again.
All these were old men. But the youngest of the group,--John Montacute,who was but four-and-twenty--held his peace, and promised nothing.
Could King Richard have looked forward five short years, he would haveseen that one young man, who now refused to follow his King to evil,alone of all the four giving his life for that King's sake. The man whowould not deny his God for fear of his sovereign, was the one who wasready to die for God and him.
It was during this short period of glamour thrown over King Richard bythe astute Archbishop that certain Lollards were imprisoned in BeaumarisCastle, that some recanted, and that various edicts were issued, in thestrong language wherein Gloucester and Courtenay delighted, againstthose who "sowed tares among the people." The complete change of tonein the royal mandates is very striking, between those periods whenGloucester's influence paralysed the King, and the two short intervalswhen Richard was left to himself. Yet to this day Richard, notGloucester or Courtenay, is assailed with all the obloquy which is dueonly to the two latter. On this occasion Richard followed theArchbishop's leading up to a certain point. But when Courtenay pressedthe advantage which he had gained, and urged capital punishment for theheretics, the King drew back. The cards had been shown a little tooplainly. A short term of imprisonment for obnoxious politics wasconsonant with Richard's ideas of right and justice: but death as thepenalty of religious opinions he would not give. Was it likely, when thereligious opinions were to some extent his own?
Courtenay appeared to waive the matter. Ostensibly, he deferred to theKing's judgment. And Richard never suspected that the sentence of deathhad merely been, by Courtenay and Gloucester, transferred to anotherperson, and that their resolve was that if he would not permit theheretics to die, Richard must die himself.
It was during this period that Earl Roger kept quiet and silent,--soquiet that we never hear a word about him for a whole twelvemonth,though circumstantial evidence tends to show that he was in London allthe time. His high position, and his known opinions, alike placed himin danger. The only safe thing to do was, so far as possible, to reducehimself to a nonentity, and hope that Gloucester and his myrmidons wouldforget him.
During the last two years death had been very busy in high places. Theplague of 1394 had made three royal widowers--the Duke of Lancaster, theKing, and the Earl of Derby. In the summer of 1396, ArchbishopCourtenay was also summoned to the judgment bar. Removed fromCourtenay's influence, the King awoke from his dream, and determined toinitiate a new order of things. He knew at last--all but too late--thatGloucester and Arundel were among his worst enemies. Had he seen itwith regard to one man more--his cousin Derby--the course of Englishhistory would probably have been different.
There was another person awake also, with the important difference thathe had never been asleep. Gloucester was ready to act just as soon ashis royal nephew: sooner, in fact, for his plans were already matured,while Richard's were only in process of formation. The time was comewhen that blow was to be struck which he had foreseen so long, for whichhe had waited so patiently and paved the way so elaborately, and whichfor so many years past, he had mentally destined Roger Mortimer tostrike. The edge of the tool must be felt, to see whether the metal weresufficiently strong for the work to be done, and the point sufficientlysharp.
The July sun streamed full into a large low chamber of a handsome houseon St. Paul's Wharf. The chamber was hung with dark blue silk relievedby silver embroidery. Velvet settles of the same colour stood atintervals around the walls, and half-a-dozen curule chairs of ebonyinlaid with ivory, and furnished with blue silk cushions, were scatteredabout the room. On one of the velvet settles, with his head supportedby a cushion, lay the only occupant of this handsome chamber--a youngman of twenty-two years of age, fair-complexioned and very good-looking.His eyes were closed, but he certainly was not asleep, for he drew longsighs at intervals which were not long. On a small table beside him alarge book lay open, bound in violet velvet, and clasped with gold.
A soft scratch at the door without announced a visitor, who was desiredto come in, without any change of position on the part of the occupantof the settle. A middle-aged man, clad in blue and gold livery, enteredaccordingly.
"Please it your Lordship, Master Westcombe is here come from Fleshy,from my Lord Duke of Gloucester, desiring speech of your Lordship."
The slight contraction of his Lordship's brow might indicate that hecould have borne to be deprived of the pleasure of an interview with Mr.Westcombe.
"Good. Bring him hither."
He
rose from the settle, gave his long blue silk gown a slight shake,and resting his hand on the book, awaited his visitor.
The visitor proved to be a squire in royal livery, with the badge of theDuke of Gloucester--a golden swan--fastened to his left sleeve. He madea courtesy--for in those days the courtesy was the gentleman'sreverence--and then with many words and some flowery expletives informedhis very dear Lord that his gracious Lord the Duke lovingly prayed himto speed with all haste to Fleshy, for he desired to speak with himimmediately.
Earl Roger's expression of face on this communication was much like thatof a man who is just on the point of swallowing a necessary but veryunpalatable dose of medicine. He gave a rather short reply, to theeffect that he would start for Fleshy early the next morning: and havingdismissed Mr. Westcombe courteously but quickly, he made his way toanother room on the same floor of the house. Sounds of livelyconversation and laughter issued from this room as soon as the door wasopened. The Earl, in whose face the expression with which he hadreceived his uncle's behest had rather increased than disappeared fromit, made his way up the long narrow room, filled with brilliant company,pausing now to greet one, and now another, till he reached a ladyattired in white and ruby satin, who sat at the further end in a curulechair, surrounded by gentle men who appeared to be paying court to her.
"Pray, suffer me not to let your diversion," remarked the Earl, with thefaintest possible tone of satire under his polished accents: "I supposeI may have leave to speak with her Ladyship among her otherservitors.--I came but to say, my Lady, that my fair uncle of Gloucesterhath sent unto me this evening, praying me to render visit unto him atFleshy, as early as may stand at mine ease. I think, therefore, to setforth with the morning light, and I shall maybe not have the pleasure tosee your Ladyship again ere my departing."
The voice of the Countess replied, "Then, my Lord, you will not be herefor the dance to-morrow? Truly, this is displeasant tidings!" But whather eyes said was,--"Really, what a convenient coincidence! I amdelighted to hear it."
"I dare not flatter myself that your Ladyship will miss me," was EarlRoger's answer, in the same slightly ironical tone. Then he turnedround, kissed his hand to her, and made his way out of the room.
Just outside he met his children and their nurses, returning from thegarden. They were four very pretty, attractive little children, theeldest not quite seven years of age, and the youngest only two. TheEarl stopped, and took up the eldest in his arms.
"God bless my Nannette!" he said. "Has Nannette been in the garden?"
Little Anne nodded, and looked earnestly into her father's eyes. Theexpression of them distressed her. Children can read the expression of aface long before they can read anything else. She thought, in her childlanguage, that "somebody had hurt him;" she realised that he wantedcomforting and diversion of thought: and her idea of administering bothwas to pat his cheek, and to hold up her doll for him to look at.
Somebody had indeed hurt him--somebody who was always hurtinghim--somebody who cared not a straw whether he was hurt or not. But whothat was must never be told, except to the two privileged persons whohad discovered it without telling, and whose sympathy was ready andsure.
The Earl kissed his little girl and set her down; laid his hand on hisboy's head and blessed him. As he turned away, he said to a gentlemanusher who was in waiting,--"Has Dan Robesart returned home?"
"Not yet, my Lord."
"No matter. Send Madison to me." And the Earl went on to the room hehad first occupied. There he sat down by the window, and for a momentyielded to his own sorrowful thoughts.
He was not usually a man to brood over his sorrows, nor to nursegrievances. His feelings were more of the sharp and short order, andhis disposition was not only cheerful, but playful. But when he hadjust received a fresh sting, the wound would smart and rankle for amoment. Otherwise, youth and natural good spirits commonly helped himto bear his daily cross. Just now it pressed hard. Those lovely blueeyes--as lovely as they were unloving--had so plainly told him thattheir owner would be glad to get rid of him, even for a few days. Thatbright illusion of past days, when he had fancied differently, was overlong ago. He had woke early from his sweet dream. He knew that hisidol was not merely dethroned--it was broken. The Alianora whom he hadso passionately loved was a creature of his own imagination: and thereal being, to whom he was tied for life, was neither loveable norloving.
There was no jealousy mixed with these feelings of disappointedloneliness. It was not that he had any apprehension of her loving someone else better than himself. He said to himself bitterly that she hadnot heart enough for that. What she enjoyed in those ceaselessflirtations in which she spent her life was just their very emptinessand frivolity. For anything like genuine attachment--anything whichinvolved strength and colour and warmth and reality--her nature was toolight.
Oh, when will women learn that a flirt is a woman who has deliberatelyflung aside the very flower and glory of her womanhood?--who ispreparing for herself a middle age of misery, and an old age of contemptand loneliness: to add to them, unless God's mercy interpose to saveher, an eternity of remorse. No type of woman is so utterly despicableas this. "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a mansoweth, that shall he also reap."
Earl Roger was not a man to shut his eyes to anything which he did notwish to see, nor to go on hoping against hope in the face of what heknew to be facts. His position was very much the same as that ofanother near connection of royalty, just a hundred years before him.[#]But Earl Edmund of Cornwall and Earl Roger of March were men of two verydifferent types. The one had sunk under his burden; the other rosesuperior to it. Roger was not so utterly swallowed up in hisdisappointment as his predecessor had been. For him, his territorialaffairs, his children, politics, and other interests, came in to relievethe weight. Only now and then, as it was to-night, his heart sank low,and felt a yearning want of that human sympathy which he never receivedbut from two persons--his family physician, Mr. Robesart, and hisbody-squire, Lawrence Madison.
[#] The reader who desires to know more of this will find it in "Not ForHim."
He lifted his head now to bid the latter enter.
"Your Lordship is not at ease, I fear?" said the squire with anintonation of genuine interest in his master.
He had grown into a taller and stronger-built man than Roger:dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a pale grave face, a smile of considerablesweetness, and a clear pleasant voice.
"Only the old story, lad," was the quiet answer. "Aye, and a littlefurther travail thereto. My Lord of Gloucester, mine uncle, hath sentfor me. We must needs be away toward Fleshy as early as the sunto-morrow."
"At your Lordship's pleasure. Shall it be to tarry?"
"I trow not. Best, maybe, to be prepared for a two-three days. But Ishall be here again in the even, an' I may."
Lawrence bowed, and withdrew from the chamber.
Half an hour later, Mr. Robesart entered it, and found the Earl bendingover the large Bible.
"I was told," said he, "that your Lordship had asked for me a shortspace agone. Metrusteth you be not indisposed?"
"Not here, good Father, I thank you," answered the Earl, touching hishead. "Only here"--and he laid a hand upon his heart. "Methought Iwould fain hear somewhat of your counsel ere my departing, which shallbe right early on the morrow." And he repeated the explanation given toLawrence.
"Your Lordship," responded the physician, "hath not, as methinks,overmuch trust in my Lord Duke?"
"Fair fall he that hath that in any man!" returned Roger with a gestureof contempt. "In truth, Father, my belief in the Duke's discretion, notto say loyalty, would go by the eye of a needle. If he would but keephis plots to himself and my fair cousin of Rutland, which 'joyeth somuch therein that I could not for compassion wish him thereout! Verily,I am alway something afeard lest some day he essay to drag me in."
"Counts your Lordship that his Grace hath sent for you with thatintent?"
&
nbsp; "I know not wherefore he hath so done, and that is the very truth." Andthe Earl passed his hand wearily over his forehead.
"It will be well that we both ask God for wisdom for your Lordship. Butthere is more than that troubling you, or I mistake."
"More than that? Aye so. Not more than custom is. Father, see you yonfly a-walking over the page of this book? If I shall say, That fly isin my way, and brush him thereout, roughly, so that he die--what is it?To me, but a little matter of disease[#] whereof I have rid me. But tohim it is the end of health, and life, and all things. Ah! there bemany fly-crushers among us human creatures. God help the crushedflies!"
[#] Inconvenience.
"Does He not help them?"
"How wot I? You must needs tell me what is help ere I can answer you.You mind that part of the story of my Lord Saint John Baptist, when hesent them twain to our Lord to ask at Him if He were He that shouldcome, or no? There be will tell us that he sent them for theirteaching; it could not be for his own. Methinks such have been in butfew deep places, where the floods overflowed them. Was it not that theman's heart was wrung to behold the Christ, his own kinsman, pass him byon the other side--heal and comfort and help all that came, and neverturn to him? Ah, it is evil waiting with patience and faith, whenChrist passeth a man by."
"And you scarce twenty-three, my Lord!" said Mr. Robesart sadly, and notso inconsequently as it seemed.
"After men's reckoning. Be there any years in God's eternity? A man,methinks, may live a thousand years in one day, whether they be years ofhappiness or of misery." The Earl's head was lifted suddenly. "Father,tell me, what means He for me? It might have been so different!" Andwith the saddest of intonations, the young head sank again.
Mr. Robesart laid his hand on that of the Earl.
"He means,--'My son, give Me thine heart.'"
"I thought I had done so."
"Then he means,--My child, come nearer to Me. 'Each branch that bearethfruit, He shall purge it, that it bear the more fruit.'"
The Earl made no reply, except to say after an interval,--"Father, Iwould fain find you here when I return. I hope that will be to-morrowat even."
"I will await your Lordship," answered Mr. Robesart: and the interviewended.
The journey to Fleshy was hot and dusty, though they arrived therebefore the sun had reached the meridian. My Lord Duke kept his youngkinsman waiting for him some time, and when he came, took him into themost secret recess of his own private room.
"Very dear Cousin," said he--and Roger felt sure from that moment thathe meant mischief--"I do earnestly desire to unbosom myself to thee ofall the secrets of mine heart. I am well assured that I need not unfoldto thee the very numerous reasons which render our fair Lord KingRichard wholly unfit to govern this realm, as being neither worthy norcapable to do so."
Roger contrived to hold his tongue, and kept his amazement as much outof his eyes as he could.
"You are well aware," continued the Duke--people are apt to assume yourperfect agreement when they utter opinions with which you particularlydisagree--"you are well aware, very dear Cousin, that the King cares fornothing but the pleasures of the table and the amusements of ladies."
What Gloucester meant by this sweeping statement[#] was that the Kingdisliked war, which his uncle regarded as the only occupation fit for aprince: and preferred literature, music, conversation, and field sports,which in the eyes of his uncle were sufficiently mean to be level to thefeminine intellect.
[#] These words from Gloucester are matter of history, and were usedmore than once in substance at least.
"Now, very dear Cousin, it is much communed[#] that these things are so:and hard is to know what shall be done in the matter, the rather sincethe people are right heartily discontent, and action must needs betaken."
[#] Talked about.
My Lord of Gloucester's language was usually as full of "the people" asthat of any modern Radical: and, also like some modern speakers, he wasgreatly given to crediting the people with whatever desires he himselfmight entertain. Roger felt strongly inclined to inquire (with LordMelbourne), "Can't you let it alone?" but he held his peace, accountingit the wisest plan to let Gloucester unwind his peroration. Every timethat he found himself addressed as "very dear cousin," Roger's sensationof distrust deepened.
"I do you to wit, very dear Cousin, that I am already joined by my Lordof Arundel, your old friend and guardian,--his son Sir John, my Lord ofWarwick, and many other prelates and barons, all which be at one andbusy about this matter. The King shall be deposed, and prisoned so longas he shall live, in due state of a prince, and full provision allowedfor his maintenance. We do desire to see you our King, being fullysatisfied that you shall be of very diverse liking and conditions fromhim that is now such, and shall well content your nobles and people.What say you?"
Not what he thought. Had Roger spoken that out, the solitary word"Scoundrel!" would have been sufficient to convey it. But he held hispeace. During a few seconds of silence his thoughts rapidly revolvedprobabilities, possibilities, desirabilities. Gloucester watched himnarrowly until at last Roger looked up and spoke.
"Fair Uncle, and my gracious Lord, these matters be of weighty import,and ask grave meditation. It would not be possible that with so littletime I should give you an answer touching a business so great."
Roger's manner was so cautious, if not cold, that Gloucester took thealarm.
"Have a care, nevertheless, most sweet Cousin, and this I pray you rightheartily, that the matter get not abroad. If it be published, and cometo the King's ears, ere the business be ripe----"
"Trust me, fair Uncle. I will take due thought, and observe allsecrecy. And now, if your Grace have said so much as it list you, Ipray you let me be on my way home, for I have urgent business in hand,and it shall be late ere I win thither."
An hour afterwards, Roger and his suite set out from Fleshy. As heclimbed the last slope whence the Castle could be seen, he drew bridlefor an instant, and looked back.
"Thank God that I have escaped from that hole with mine head on!" hemurmured, in so low a tone that he was unheard except by the safe earsof Lawrence Madison. "If my gracious Lord of Gloucester ever again seteyes on me within those his walls, I grant him free leave to dub RogerMortimer a fool! 'Very dear Cousin,' forsooth! 'Most sweet Cousin!'Methinks, the further I drew away from him, the dearer and sweeter Ibecame. We will see, most sweet and very dear Uncle, if the young cannotoutrun the old!--Lawrence!"
"My Lord?"
"We must be ready, thou and I, to set out for Ireland as to-morrow."
"For Ireland, my Lord!"
"Aye. I shall never feel at ease till I have set the sea betwixt me andthose prating traitors. Once at Carrickfergus or Trim Castle, and I maysnap my fingers at my very dear uncle and my most sweet cousins. Theyshall not be so foot-hot to fetch me from Ireland as from Paul's Wharf.The rascal crew!--the vile traitors! Pardoned over and over again assome of them have been!--raised to honours and riches by the King theyare ready to betray! Would I be their King?--the ungrateful, disloyaladders! Nay, fair Uncle of Gloucester! Roger Mortimer can lay down hislife if need be, but he can never sell his King and betray hisfriend--never break his trust, nor be unfaithful to his troth! '_UnDieu, un Roy_'--'_Fais ce que doy!_' Come, let us hie on."
"Methinks," said Lawrence, a little hesitatingly, "her Ladyship shallscantly be ready to obey so unlooked-for a summons."
"Her Ladyship--will do her pleasure." There was a pause between thewords. "It may be it shall not list her to follow me thus far. If sheso think, she can 'bide at which of my castles she will."
Nothing more was said on the subject until they reached Thames Street,when Lawrence was sent to give instant notice to the servants of theirmaster's sudden departure, and warn them to be ready for him to set outat four o'clock the next morning, and the Earl himself went to conveythe intelligence to the Countess.
"Bid Dan Robesart await me in my chamber," he sai
d to the gentlemanusher as he passed.