II.

When Marian heard my lady so speak, methought she would have swooned in verity; for she knew my lady's contempt for gossip. E'en for the first time in all her life, Marian could not find a word to her tongue.

"La! my lady," said she, and then stopped and was silent. My lady laughed at her, with her deep eyes; but as was her wont, her mouth was wondrous solemn.

"Ay, nurse," quoth she, "thou thought'st me safe i' th' Land o' Nod, but one hath ears to hear there as elsewhere." Then she reaches out one hand and plays with Marian's ruff. "Go to, nurse," says she. "Dost thou not see I am even i' th' same case with thyself? I too would gossip a little. Come, word it—word it!"

So Marian told her all that she had heard, together with a little prophesying here and there, which boded no good to my Lord Denbeigh. She told how he had e'en been a brave lad, but how in Spain he had wed with a wife who played him false; how then he had vowed vengeance on all womankind, becoming a brawler and a haunter o' taverns; how death was in his sword and lightnings in his eye.

My lady listened, and now and again she would pinch her eyelids softly with her thumb and ring-finger, as one who is deep in thought. But when Marian paused for breath, she turned to her, and quoth she,

"Nurse, thou hast often preached unto me; listen now to my preachings. Thou shalt often hear a man abused, nurse, but chiefly for that which he hath never done. This wild lord, I doubt not, hath been guilty of sorry deeds. What man hath not? But the half that thou hast told me is not to be believed."

Then went she to her room, taking Marian with her, but I saw that she was moved.

It was but the next day that my lady's uncle, Sir John Trenyon, came riding into the court. He often came in such wise, to bide for a day or two with his niece. A most courteous gentleman; red of face, blue of eye, and blithe of tongue. He had a jest for each tick o' th' clock, and a kind word for all.

"Ah, Butter," saith he, "and where is thy mistress? And thy wife, the good Dame Marian—where is she? And how about thy family? Hast thou no better prospects than of yore?"

Whereat I looked sorrowful enough, I doubt not, for he did bid me take heart, as my first-born might have had a hare-lip or a crook-back. Then did he toss me his bridle-reins, and my lady, having heard his voice, came forth to meet him.

"So, lady-bird!" quoth he, clasping her. "I am come for no less than three reasons this time. First, to see thy bonny face. Second, to ride thy bonny Robin. Third, to inquire and seek out a certain villain of mine acquaintance, of whom you have doubtless heard;" and forthwith did he say to her of how the wicked Lord Denbeigh was the son of a friend and comrade, and of how he had known him when a lad, together with much more, at which my lady pricked up her ears, as 'twere, having all a lady's love for stories of wicked men who are not yet either old or ill-favored.

"By my troth," declared the old knight in ending, "I will take but a mouthful to stay me, and then set forth straightway in quest o' th' rascal." So having dined right heartily, he rode forth again.

Now, having related this hap to Marian, she was devoured of so great a curiosity that, as I am an honest man, I looked to see her consumed even unto her bones, as some men who burn of drink. She would have it that I must hazard a guess on the shape of Lord Denbeigh's nose, the color of his hair, and the height of his body. She forced me to wonder whether he were civil or rude of tongue. She pressed me to say whether I thought there was aye a chance of his returning with Sir John. She questioned me, in a word, until, having no answers, I was like to lose my wits, or my temper, or both together. At last comes she and sits on my knee, and tickles the back of my neck right playfully, as in the days of our wooing.

"As I live, Tony," quoth she, "we are like to have a strange story under our very noses. What if"—and here she takes my face in her two hands, and sets her chin against mine, so that I see four round blue eyes against her white brow, and am like to go blind with her thoughtlessness—"what if it turns out that the Lord hath set upon our lady to be the saviour of this wicked earl?"

"Ay," cried I. "And what if the Lord hath set upon me to be the founder of a nation, like Abraham? What then?" At which she boxed my ears right soundly. But I could not blame her, for in the wrong I was, without doubt, although verily she had plagued me into it. So I sued for pardon, and got it, and a kiss into the bargain. But she would not leave me in peace concerning Lord Denbeigh.

When that same afternoon there comes Sir John a-riding past, and the bad earl at his side, "What dost thou say now?" quoth Marian, a-plucking me in a way that did not serve to increase good feeling betwixt us. "Ah ha! Are not women prophetesses by nature?"

"Ay, by ill-nature," answered I; and for this quip I was not forgiven for two days.

It was towards the setting of the sun when Sir John and Lord Denbeigh rode up to the door of Amhurste, and my lady, knowing naught, came out at the sound of the horses' feet, thinking only to greet her uncle. The red light from the west shone on her, and dabbled her white kirtle as with blood, and her face was like one of the red roses in her garden. So she put up her hand to shield it, and saw the stranger standing at her feet.

There was ne'er a nobler-looking man, for all he might outblack Satan in his soul: straight of body, and strong of limb, and lofty of head. His hair was the color of my lady's, and there seemed to be ever some sunshine in it, as he moved his head. Methought his face was fair and goodly to look upon, albeit his lips went downward at the corners, and there was a droop in his broad lids. He was clad all in a close suit of dark velvet, and in his hand he held a black hat with a knot of heron-plumes.

My lady stood and looked down at him from under her long, white hand, and he stood and looked up at my lady, as one looks upward at a fair picture. And the evening light crept between them. I was ashamed of my own folly, when I did catch myself remembering Marian's silly sayings; but for all that, they did come back to me, as the words of a foolish woman will return to the wisest of men. And in truth he did gaze up at her, as though she were more holy than the heavens above her. And for all her hand, the sunset found its way unto her cheek.

What I now relate was told me by Marian some three days after. 'Twas on the night of the day on which Sir John had brought the stranger to Amhurste, and Marian was carding out my lady's tresses before her bedroom fire.

Quoth my lady, suddenly, "Nurse, didst thou see Lord Denbeigh ere he went?"

And Marian said that she had seen him.

"He hath a strange face, nurse."

"How 'strange,' my lady?"

"Why, it seems to me that each feature in it doth contradict the other. His brow is stern, and saith to his eyes, 'Ye shall not be gentle.' His eyes say to his nose, 'Spread not thy nostrils so proudly.' His nose commands his lips that they smile not; but, nurse, there was ne'er a sweeter smile on the lips o' a saint!"

Marian fell a-thinking, and pulled my lady's hair. My lady heeded it not, so Marian fell a-thinking yet more deeply.

"It is not a face that tells of a bad heart," continued my lady. "Rather it speaks of rebellion and misfortune. A sad story—a sad story."

"What is, my lady?" asked Marian; but my lady was far away, whither Marian could not follow.

"Nurse," she saith, presently, "that were a soul worth saving." Then got she suddenly to her feet, and turned and took her nurse's hands with hers. "It shall be saved," she saith, "God helping."

And she kissed Marian, and lay down upon her bed. But Marian did tell me how that no sleep visited her lady's eyes that night. Through the darkness she could hear her turn, first on this side, then on that; then sigh and move her pillow, and sigh again.

Methought Marian would have split in sunder with importance, when Lord Denbeigh took to coming sometimes to Amhurste. 'Twas never for even an hour that he stayed; and 'twas always some question of business that brought him. But my lady and he touched hands full oft during a week, and always he would look at her with a different look from that which his eyes did wear at other times. And she spoke to him e'er courteously and kindly, even as though he had been a holy man and worthy of all reverence.

One day it chanced that my lady rode the blue-roan out into the woods, towards the hut of old Joan Gobble, who was crippled by reason of age. My lady had me follow her on Dumble, th' white nag, with a pat o' butter and some wine. I was taken up with pondering as to why my lady should go in person to Dame Gobble's, seeing she might have sent me alone on Dumble as well. Be that as it may, as we rode along by a brook-side, under the thick leaves, whom should we come upon but my Lord Denbeigh. He was kneeling beside the water, and holding down his hand into the brook. As I looked I saw that his hand was befouled with gore, and that the brown stream did rush away ruddily from beneath his fingers.

My lady did not wait for me to hold Robin Hood, but did swing herself from her saddle, and was beside the earl in a trice. He looked up, and seeing her, did start upon his feet.

"Nay," said she, putting out her hand, "but tell me if I can aid thee."

And he strove to hide his hand at his side, saying. "Tis but a scratch;" but the blood ran down like water on the grass.

"Think not to spare me the sight o' blood," said my lady, "for I am learned in bandaging wounds." And certes she was, seeing that every soul at Amhurste did come to her for healing, let a cat but scratch them. And she took his hand between her two fair hands (having drawn off her gloves), and saw that his wrist was deeply severed as with a knife. But she asked him no questions, telling him only to stoop while she cleansed his hand sufficiently to bind it. And as she laid it in the water, and pressed the lips of the wound together, he said unto her in a low tone, not meaning that I should hear him,

"Would that thou couldst wash my soul as thou hast washed my hand!"

She looked straight into his eyes, with her own so clear and honest, like a dog's (meaning no disrespect to my lady, as God knows), and she answered him and saith,

"It were well worth the washing, my lord; but an higher than I must cleanse it."

And he saith, "There is none higher."

At that my lady's blood rose in her cheek, but she besought him that he would not speak to her in such wise. When she had made a compress of the napkins in the basket wherein I was carrying Dame Gobble's butter, and had stanched the blood, she unwound the ribbon from her silver hunting-horn, and cast it about his neck for a rest to his wounded arm. Then he did bend down his head and kissed the ribbon, and my lady turned quickly, and got upon the roan, and rode away at so smart a pace that methinks Dame Gobble's butter and wine did reach her in a closer conjunction than she could have found pleasant.

When I told Marian of this encounter, merely by the way of a bit of gossip, she did smile in such a wise that I was minded to cuff a woman for the first time in a long life.

It was that same night that Marian did tell me how that she feared the earl was in danger of some sort, judging by certain words that my lady had let fall in her sleep. I noticed how that my lady seemed restless, and would start at the clap o' a door, or when Herne did come suddenly upon her. And one day she leaned from a window, as I swept up the rose-leaves from the grass on the east terrace, and called to me to come thither. She was as white as her kirtle, and her gray eyes were dark like water before a storm. She did not look at me, but beyond into the air. So I waited, having plucked off my cap, and my lady stood looking, looking; and after a while she saith,

"Thou hast aye been a true and faithful servant unto me: therefore I am about to give unto thee a great charge."

And I said, "My lady, thou knowest that thou canst trust me;" and in truth I could say no more, for my throat was stiff.

And she continued and said,

"Thou must be to-night at the Red Deer, and that by nine of the clock. One will be there in whom we have both deep interest. I cannot tell thee more. Take thy sword with thee, but have no fear—thou wilt have no cause to use it. Yet, lest thou be fearful, take it with thee." And she said, "Thou wilt remember?"

"My lady, when have I e'er forgotten word of thine?" Whereat she did put out her fair hand to me, saying, "Never," and there were tears in her eyes.

So that night (for the first time in many years) did I find myself within the doors of the Red Deer. A cosey place it was, despite the wine-bibbers that did profane it; and the inn-keeper's wife, a most buxom, eye-pleasing wench, with three sturdy boys aye clambering about her. As I looked, some hard and sinful thoughts did visit my heart concerning the bounty that the Lord had lavished upon one who was a barterer of wine, when I, who had lived ever a temperate and (in so far as was in my power) a godly life, should remain childless. But I did conquer at last, bidding Satan get behind me, and was left in peace to toast my feet, and to ponder as to who it was that my lady had sent me thither to mark. Had I not loved my lady with all my heart, methinks I could not have stood the terms that were heaped upon me by the brawlers. I will not repeat the foul slanders; suffice it to say, I sustained for one half hour what few men are called upon to endure throughout a lifetime.

At last, the newness being gone, they left me in peace, and I, being settled safely in my corner, did set to work to watch the door.

Who should enter at that very moment but my Lord Denbeigh! He was wrapped in a long brown cloak, and wore a broad hat, unornamented by plume or buckle, pulled down over his eyes. He came and tossed himself into a chair near the fire, and sat there pondering upon the coals, with his legs out in front of him. Now, I have ever had a woman-weakness for a goodly leg in man, and the splendid limbs of Lord Denbeigh did witch me into a steadier gaze than that which civility doth permit. This by-and-by he did notice, and so spoke to me.

"At what art thou staring, ancient?" quoth he, not unkindly. So I told him, whereupon he laughed somewhat.

"Methinks thou art but a doting body," he said, "and yet is thy face familiar. What now? Hast thou e'er met with me before?"

Then did I lie right roundly, being, to confess the truth, not a little afraid.

"Out on thee," saith his lordship; "the truth is not in thee. I ne'er forget a face; how, then, shall I forget a face such as thine? Certes I have seen thee before. Wilt thou colt me?"

And again lied I—blackly, most abominably.

"As thou wilt," quoth he; "but thy face is known to me, for all that."

It was at this time that the door opened again, and there did enter a stripling, clad all in dark maroon velvet, wrapped also about with a long cloak, and having a velvet bonnet pulled down over his brows i' th' manner o' Lord Denbeigh's. One could see naught o' his visage for the shadow from his head-gear. The revelers scarce noted his entrance, being far gone in drink, and some having departed, and others asleep. The lad came and stood near the fire, and I saw that he looked at Lord Denbeigh from under his drooping bonnet—the earl having withdrawn unto a table apart, with a glass of wine and some papers, and his sword across the table. Even as I looked the boy turned, and went over, and leaned on the table to finger the heavy sword. My heart was afraid within me, for there was a dark light in the eyes that flashed up at the youth from under Lord Denbeigh's stern brows. I was nigh unto them, being but a stride or two apart, and so marked all that passed between them.

"By my troth," quoth his lordship, "a valiant crack!"

"Meaning me?" quoth the lad, smiling.

"Ay, meaning thee, Sir Insolence. Dost thou know how to handle thine own sword, that thou handlest a stranger's so freely?"

"Even so. But I meant not to vex thee. In truth, I am come to thee on an errand of life and death;" and as he spoke, he did doff his bonnet and toss it upon the table, and the firelight and candlelight did leap upon his fair curls, and as I saw his face it was the face of my lady. The earl did start half-way to his feet, and his face was first like fire and then like snow.

"Margaret!" he saith, back of his teeth, as 'twere.

And the lad smiled, leaning still upon the table.

"Nay; my sister is called so," he said, "but my name is Robert, and I am the Lord of Amhurste and her brother. Haply she hath mentioned me unto your lordship."

The earl stared as one who sees a ghost (though I believe not in them myself), and he saith, "Whence comest thou? All think that thou art dead."

And the boy said,

"Nay, but I would not that any besides thee knew of my whereabouts. As to thee, I know more concerning thee even than my sister, and it is for her sake that I come to thee to-night."

And my lord saith, "For her sake?"

"Even so. I am come to persuade thee that thou wilt not go on the errand thou wottest of two nights hence. There are those who do mean thee death. It is certain that thy life is plotted against. Surely thou wilt be warned?" And as I looked, the color left the lad's face, and he grew white as any woman. Almost I could have sworn it was my lady's face. Line for line, eyelash for eyelash, look for look. And methought no mother's heart e'er yearned towards her new-born babe as yearned my heart towards the youth. It seemed as though I must cry out to him. To see him thus after five weary years; to be so near him, and yet unable to touch even the latchet of his shoes, or to hear his voice calling my name. I trembled and was blind with longing. When at last I did look up, he said again, "Surely, thou wilt be advised?"

The earl leaned with his forehead set in his clasped hands, and by-and-by he said,

"It is impossible. Would that I could!"

And the lad said,

"Nay, it is not impossible. Thou canst save thine own life with a word."

And Lord Denbeigh answered him:

"My life is not worth even a word," and he did not lift up his forehead from his hands.

Then said my master, "Thy life may be worth less than naught to thee, but to others its price is above their own." And again he was as pale as any girl.

And he spoke again and said, "Thou wilt not go? Thou wilt be warned?"

And again did the man answer, saying, "Impossible."

Then saith my master,

"Lord Denbeigh, if thou goest to London on the morrow, I will follow thee there. Nay, thou canst not prevent me. And think you my sister's heart will be warmer towards thee if her brother's blood be spilled at thy behest?"

And the earl sat with his stern eyes on the lad, and he said,

"Thy blood will ne'er be spent at my behest. I do forbid thee to follow me."

And the lad said,

"I am not to be forbidden." So they stood and looked at one another. And all at once the boy put out his hand ('twas my lady's very gesture) and took the earl's sleeve, and saith he in a gentle voice,

"Thou wert a man after God's own heart did not thou let Satan consort with thee."

Then turned Lord Denbeigh with a laugh that was not merry. And he saith,

"As thou quotest Scripture to me, select thy texts with greater care. Even to my mind there doth come one more suiting; for even as Job, 'I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.'"

Then saith the lad, still with his hand on the man's arm,

"Is it not the more to thy discredit that thou, who couldst be brother to Christ, do make brothers of dragons? Verily, my lord, I am bold through my sister, for methinks it is thus that she would have answered thee."

And the man turned away as though to hide his face.