[CHAPTER IX]
OF AN AMBUSCADE, A DUEL, AND AN ESCAPE
The Renegade Duke, whose challenge Sir Richard had so openly invited, and who, through the mishap described, had secured a temporary possession of the playful note written to the young knight by Isabel, had quickly surmised by whom it had been inscribed. He was aware of the maid's dissatisfaction with her surroundings, and that she had chosen Sir Richard to be her deliverer at once sent the Duke into a ferment of passionate jealousy.
The Renegade Duke's accidental meeting with Isabel when he had first come to Scotland to join Tyrrell's projected expedition, had marked the beginning of a mad desire to arouse within her breast a return of the sentiment that he entertained toward her. In so far as his superficial character permitted, his affection for her was genuine. But in the rare instances in which he had contrived to meet and talk with her alone, she had rejected his suit with an indignant scorn that would have left an ordinary man without the shadow of a hope of future success. The Duke, however, was all egotism and vanity, and remained firm in his belief that his charms would ultimately prevail. By fair means or foul, he had determined upon having her within his power; and, as the initial step toward such an end, he had played the traitor by laying bare before Douglas the whole of Sir James's plan.
Douglas, himself a conspirator of no mean abilities, had immediately set about to concoct a scheme whereby to take advantage of Tyrrell's grave dilemma, caused by the unhappy death of the young prince. Douglas had already instituted measures to have a substitute candidate proclaimed in the place of the one dead, being well aware that Sir James would scarcely dare to incur the ire of his men—from whom he had kept the circumstance of the prince's death a dark secret—by exposing the falsity of the Douglas claimant. Rather, did Douglas figure it, would Tyrrell be under the necessity of joining issues. This would result in a powerful movement, with the Douglas finger very much in the juicy pasty that was designed to be served up to Henry VII and his followers. Had the Renegade Duke been acquainted with the genuine character of the captive Sir Richard's ancestry he would doubtless have been in haste to communicate his knowledge thereof to his new master, with the result that the plot, then taking shape, would have been infinitely less complex, and probably less interesting than it subsequently turned out to be. In his selection of Sir Richard to assume the leadership of his gathered forces, the Duke fell into the error of supposing that Tyrrell had happened by chance to duplicate Lord Douglas's clever expedient.
In the early morning of that day the Duke had contrived to get word to one of Douglas's lieutenants of the captivity of the young knight, and of Tyrrell's intention to carry him to his stronghold before making known his plans with regard to him. The Duke anticipated a counter move upon the part of Douglas along the way; but he calculated that if he could make himself the instrument of the captive's removal, it would place him high in the esteem of Lord Douglas; while, at the same time, he believed that such a move would leave Tyrrell without a prop wherewith to buttress his tottering conspiracy.
As Sir Richard, around whom simmered this salmagundi of politics, rode onward with the company, he tried many times, by piecing together odds and ends of the talk that drifted to his ears, to gather some inkling of the purpose upon which the company, of which he was a most unwilling member, was engaged. With recurring frequency he heard the word "treason," and its kindred, "traitor," "spy," "base informer" traded from tongue to tongue among the men around him. The march was now being urged rapidly forward, and a something portending evil seemed to be hanging in the air about them.
The end they were seeking to attain, and the part his person was playing in their machinations grew more enigmatical in proportion with the thought that Sir Richard gave to the matter of burrowing to the reason for them. He ceased trying, finally, and suffered himself to be carried along whithersoever chance, or good or bad fortune, listed.
His companion of the morning, now no longer taciturn, was riding well to the front with Erasmus, whom he had evidently persuaded to remain with the company. In sullen silence at his left rode the Renegade Duke. Faithful de Claverlok kept within touch of Sir Richard's hand to his right.