“’Tis allowed to hate an heretic,” said the Archbishop calmly. “And if the Lady Le Despenser be no heretic, she hath sorely abused her opportunities.”
“She shall never be Nym’s true wife!” cried the Duchess fierily. “I will not have it! I would sooner follow both her and him to the churchyard! I hate, I hate her!”
“Thou mayest yet do that following, Joan. But I must not tarry. Peace be with thee!”
Peace!—of what sort? We are told, indeed, of one who is like a strong man armed, and who keepeth his goods in peace. And the dead sleep peacefully enough—not only dead bodies, but dead souls.
The Earl and Countess of Kent had been about a week at Langley, when a letter arrived from the King, commanding the attendance of the Earl at Court, as feudal service for one of his estates held on that tenure. The Countess was not invited to accompany him. The Duke of York seized his opportunity, for his plot was fully ripe, and suggested that she should obtain the royal permission to pay a visit to Windsor, where the hapless heirs of March were imprisoned. Permission to do so was asked and granted, for the King never suspected his cousin of any sinister intention.
The Earl set out first for Westminster. Constance stood at her lattice, and waved a loving farewell to him as he rode away, turning several times to catch another glimpse of her, and to bend his graceful head in yet another farewell. He had not quite recovered from the glamour of his enchantment.
“Farewell!” said the Princess at last, though her husband was far beyond hearing. “Hark, Maude, to the Priory bells—dost hear them? What say they to thee? I hear them say—‘He will come—he will come—safely back again!’” And she sang the words in the tone of the chime.
Maude was silent. A dark, sudden presentiment seemed to seize upon her of unknown coming evil, and to her ear also the bells had a voice. But they rang—“He will come—he will come—never any more!”
The bells told the truth—to one of them.
The Duke of York escorted his sister to Windsor. She was accompanied by Bertram and Maude, Eva, and several minor domestics. He left her full directions how to proceed, promising to meet her with a guard of men a few miles beyond Eton, and go with her overland as far as Hereford. The final destination of Constance and her recaptured charges was to be her own home at Cardiff, but a rather roundabout way was to be taken to baffle the probable pursuers. York promised to let Kent know of the escapade through one of his squires on the morning of their departure from Windsor, with orders to join them as quickly as possible by sea from Bideford. At Cardiff the final stand was to be made, in favour of Richard, if living—of March, if he were proved to be dead. The evening of a saint’s day, about ten days later, was selected for the attempted rescue; in the hope that the sentinels, having honoured the saint by extra feasting and potations, might be the less disposed to extra vigilance.