A Clerk of Oxford, and His Adventures in the Barons' War

by Evelyn Everett-Green

"Reverend sir, the maid speaks no more than the truth; and if Roger de Horn be let loose again, methinks peril will again threaten her safety and ruin the peace of our home. But for the promptness and courage of these young gentlemen, I trow I should have been murdered and the maid carried off ere the sun set yestere'en. Although I love her as the apple of mine eye, I fear me that our home is no safe place for her—or will not be when Roger de Horn is set at liberty. Wherefore we do ask counsel and help of thee what we shall do for her, for she was sent to us from her father's house because that was no safe place for her; and now our home seems little safer, and were hurt to come to her from thence, our grey hairs would go down with sorrow to the grave."

Edmund de Kynaston, who had been present at this function, had been seen a little while before to step to his father's side and speak earnestly with him for a few minutes; and now the Constable stood forth, and addressed himself partly to the Chancellor and partly to the kinsfolk of the maid.

"I have somewhat to say about that. This maid is of our city, and therefore has a claim to what protection I, as keeper of the city, can afford her. I grieve that twice over she has been subjected to the machinations of evil-doers; and since the man who plans these evil deeds may probably (since he has been artful enough to keep his hands free from actual blood-guiltiness) be sooner or later set at liberty, it behoves us to take measures to thwart any further schemes on his part. So, my lord Chancellor, I have a proposition to make. Within the walls of the Castle the maid would be safe. I myself have a daughter who has ofttimes begged of me to find for her a companion of her own age and sex, to assist her in her tasks and be her friend and confidante. This maid is virtuous and fair; she is beloved by Hugh le Barbier, of whom all men speak well. He is ready to make her his wife so soon as his father shall be willing; and pending that time, I will give her an asylum in my household, and my daughter will make of her a companion and friend. Will that content you, good people, who have played the part of parents to the maid?"

The Marlows were overjoyed at the proposition. Greatly as they regretted parting from Linda, they felt that their home was no safe asylum for her, and that it was scarce the fit home of one who was to wed with a scholar and a gentleman in the position of Hugh le Barbier. Linda herself, although with some tremors, gratefully accepted the proffered boon; for she remembered pretty Alys of old, and had always loved and admired her. To dwell near to her, in a place where she could sometimes see her lover, and have news from day to day of his safety, was an enchanting prospect; and though she shed some tears at parting from her kindly aunt and uncle, her face kindled into smiles of hope and happiness as Edmund and Hugh presently conducted her into the presence of Alys, who started up from her embroidery frame with a little cry of surprise and pleasure.

Although she had charged Edmund to carry a message to her father when a rumour of what was passing below had reached her, she scarcely expected that the result would be so prompt and satisfactory. Ever since Hugh had recommenced his wooing of Linda, Alys had been to some extent in his confidence, and had been full of keen interest in the matter. Hugh's disappearance, and his sudden return with his story before dawn to-day, had filled all his friends with excitement, sympathy, and wrath; and his fears for Linda's safety had awakened in Alys the vehement desire to befriend her. Edmund had even gone forth to see if he could find any trustworthy friend to dispatch to Eynsham (marvelling what had become of Leofric, Jack, and Gilbert, who were wont to be forward with help where any comrade was concerned), when he had met the procession coming in, and had hastened to Alys with a hurried account of what he had gleaned from the brief explanations of his friends. After that he and Alys had made this plan of befriending Linda, and now she had been brought to her apartment to be her "friend," as the girl herself called it, though Linda declared that it was as tirewoman or serving-maid she had come.

"For I am but a city maiden, and thou the daughter of a noble knight," said Linda; whereat Alys smilingly rejoined,—

"Nay, but thou art the betrothed of one who will one day win his spurs, and rise to be as great a man as my honoured father. We love Hugh here even as a brother, and I have so ofttimes longed for a sister."

So the gentle Linda took up her new duties within the safe shelter of the Castle walls, and the life of Alys was the brighter and happier in consequence. She was in need of a friend and confidante of her own age and sex; for her mother kept her with strict hand, and now that she was growing older, and Edmund was stronger than of yore, he and his friends came less to that upper room which had come to be called "the maiden's bower." Her brother was able to go forth for some of his studies, and it had even been thought that he might soon enter as a scholar at St. George's in the Castle. Alys rejoiced in his return to greater health and strength; but it had left her somewhat more alone, and she rejoiced greatly when Linda came to be her companion, for she learned from her the soft Italian tongue, and a greater proficiency upon the lute; whilst she taught her friend those things which she had studied with her brother, till Linda felt that a whole new world was opening out before her.

Those were peaceful and happy days for the two maidens. Although the world without was full of strife, the echoes of which sometimes reached them in their quiet chamber, they lived with their books, their music, their needlework, and their birds, seeing the familiar faces of Edmund and his comrades day by day; but jealously watched and guarded by Dame Margaret de Kynaston, who felt Linda now to be her charge, as well as her own daughter, and was well pleased—after the first surprise at Alys's "whim"—with the working of the arrangement.

It had by this time become pretty evident to the parents that Amalric de Montfort was wooing their daughter, although he had not yet declared himself. Sir Humphrey was well pleased, for he believed that the Earl of Leicester was and would remain the greatest man in the kingdom—not excepting the King himself. Dame Margaret, however, was less sanguine on this point, and had misgivings sometimes as to the ultimate fate of the great leader of the Barons' party. She was not anxious for her daughter's hand to be irrevocably pledged, and did not encourage the visits of Amalric more than the duties of hospitality required. She was, however, willing that her Alys and Linda should have instruction in book-learning, which they so keenly desired; and Leofric continued to come from time to time to read to and instruct them, although Edmund was not so regular at these readings as he was when unable to attend lectures in the schools.