Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

"That was not your way, my pretty lady," cried the voice of the Portingal captain. "Let me kiss your loafly hand, and I will show you the way."

"Stand off, sir!" exclaimed Lady Constance. "Dare you insult me in my cousin's house?"

"This way! this way! Lady Constance de Grey," cried Sir Osborne, in a voice that shook the hall. "This way there are friends. Throw up the latch!"

At that moment the unscrupulous Portingal seems to have offered some still greater insult to the young lady; for, with a scream, she darted towards the spot to which the voice of Sir Osborne directed her, and throwing up the latch, as he called to her to do, ran in, followed closely by the Portingal. Urged by fear, Lady Constance flew directly to the knight, and recognising a friend, clung to him for protection. The captain, not observing that his hands were freed, did not scruple to pursue her, even close to the side of the prisoner, calling to her not to be afraid; that he would show her the way. But Sir Osborne raised his arm, and in a moment laid the Portingal grovelling on the ground, with the blood gushing from his mouth and nostrils.

Lady Constance still clung to the knight, who totally forgetting the possibility of escape, endeavoured to soothe her and calm her agitation. Not so Jekin Groby: after pausing for a moment, confounded by the whole business, he at length bethought him, that as the door was open he might as well walk out, and with this intent made a quick step or two towards it. His purpose, however, was defeated by the Portingal, who recovered from the blow, and perceiving the design of the clothier, started upon his feet, and jumping through the open door, banged it in the face of honest Jekin, at the same time making the whole house ring with his cries of "Help! help! The lady is letting out the prisoners, and they shall all get loose! Help! help!" And getting hold of the rope of the alarum, he rang such a peal as soon brought the whole household, together with the servants of the Lady Constance, round the door of the strong room.

Various were now the cries and exclamations: "What's the matter?" "Are they out?" "Which way did they go?" "Where's the lady?" "Oh Lord!" "Oh lauk!" "Oh dear!" "Dear me!" "How strange!" "Who'd have thought it!" While the Portingal, with his face all streaming with blood, explained to them that Lady Constance wished to let the prisoners out; and that he, notwithstanding their efforts, had shut them up all together, by the valour of his invincible arm, and he called his bloody muzzle to bear testimony to the truth of his asseveration.

"You lie, you vagabond thief!" cried one of the young lady's servants. "It was you stole my riding whip, when you ran away in such a hurry from the inn last night."

"You must make a great mistake, my friend," said Dr. Wilbraham, who had come up amongst the rest. "Lady Constance de Grey has too much respect for the law to assist any prisoners to escape from the house of a magistrate. Let me in here, and we shall soon hear the truth of all this."

"And let me in!" "And let me in!" "And let me in too!" cried a dozen voices; and all prepared to rush into the room the moment any one raised the latch, on which Longpole had his hand for the purpose.

"Devil a one of you!" cried Longpole. "Curiosity, I've heard say, was one of the great vices of the old gentlewoman of Babylon, and so certainly I shall not gratify yours. March every one; for his worship, when he went away, gave me charge of the prisoners, and I am to answer for them when he comes back. The only one who goes with me shall be his reverence, who, God bless him, taught me to read and write, and speak French, when I was little Dick Heartley, the porter's son at the old castle."