Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

"Where, man? where?" cried Henry, looking round without seeing anything. "'Odslife, where?"

"Here, your grace! here!" replied the knight. "Do you not see him, with one leg raised and the claw contracted, gazing on the water as intently as a lady in a looking-glass, by that branch of a tree that is floating down?"

"Ha! yes, yes!" cried Henry. "The long neck and the blue back! 'Tis he. Whoop! sir heron! whoop! Cry him up, Maurice! cry him up!"

Sir Osborne joined his voice to the king's; and their united efforts reaching the ears of the long-legged fowl they were in search of, he speedily spread his wings, stretched out his neck, and rose heavily from the water. With a whoop and a cry the king slipped the jesses of his falcon, and flew him after the heron, who, for a moment, not perceiving the adversary that pursued him, took his flight over the fields, instead of rising high. On went the heron, on went the falcon, and on went Henry after them; till, coming to a little muddy creek, which thereabouts found its way into the river, the king planted his pole with his accustomed activity, and threw himself forward for the leap. Unfortunately, however, at the very moment that his whole weight was cast upon the pole, in the midst of the spring, the wood snapped, and in an instant Sir Osborne saw the king fall flat on his face, and nearly disappear in the ooze and water with which the creek was filled. Henry struggled to free himself, but in vain; for the tenacity of the mud prevented his raising his head, so that in another minute he must inevitably have been drowned, had not Sir Osborne plunged in to his aid, and lifted his face above the water, thus giving him room to breathe. Short as had been the time, however, that respiration had been impeded, the king's powers were nearly exhausted, and even with the knight's assistance he could not raise himself from the position in which he had fallen.

Though an unsafe experiment for both, considering the mud and slime with which they were entangled, nothing remained for Sir Osborne but to take the king in his arms, and endeavour to carry him to the bank; and this at length he accomplished, sometimes slipping, and sometimes staggering, from the uncertain nature of the footing and the heavy burden that he carried; but, still supported by his vast strength, he contrived to keep himself from falling, proceeding slowly and carefully forward, and assuring himself of the firmness of each step before he took another.[^[14]]

With a feeling of inexpressible gladness, he seated Henry on the bank, and kneeling beside him expressed his hopes that he had received no injury. "No," said the king, faintly; "no. But, Maurice, you have saved my life. Thank God, and thank you!"

A pause now ensued, and the young knight endeavoured, as well as circumstances would permit, to cleanse the countenance and hands of the monarch from the effects of the fall. While he was thus employed, the king gradually recovered his breath and strength, and from time to time uttered a word or two of thanks or directions, till at last Bennet, the attendant, was seen approaching with the dog.

"Stay, stay, Sir Osborne," said the monarch; "here comes Bennet. We will send him for fresh clothes. Where is the falcon? By my faith, I owe you much; ay, as much as life! Whistle for the falcon; I have not breath."

Sir Osborne uttered a long falconer's whistle, and in a moment the bird hovered above them, and perched upon the hand the monarch extended to it, showing by its bloody beak and claws that it had struck the prey. Nearly at the same time came up Bennet, who, as may be supposed, expressed no small terror and surprise at beholding the king in such a situation, and was preparing to fill the air with ejaculations and lamentations, when Henry stopped him in the midst.

"No, Bennet, no!" cried he; "keep all that for when I am dead quite! Ha, man! 'twill be time enough then. Thanks to Sir Osborne, I am not dead at present. Here, take this bird. I have lost both hood and jesses in that foul creek. Hie to the manor, Bennet, and fetch me a large cloak with a hood, and another for Sir Osborne. We will not return all draggled with the ooze; ha, Maurice! Quick, Bennet! But mind, man; not a word of this misadventure, on your life!"