“Or dead, you would have added, madam,” said Collingham, smiling. “However, I am alive and in England, as you perceive, and, let me add, wholly at your service.”
Isabel’s colour went and came so as to make Oliver Icingla look and wonder; but the knight took no notice of her agitation. As if to relieve her from the embarrassment which she appeared to feel, he drew forth the king’s letter, and, with great respect, presented it on bended knee. Isabel took it, tore it open, ran her eye over the contents, and uttered a cry of disappointment.
“Alas! alas!” exclaimed she, looking the picture of distress, “I have been deluding myself with the hope of receiving a far different message. It was but yesterday, as it seems to me, that my lord the king wrote these words:—‘I have now made peace with Philip of France, and I have the means of putting mine enemies under my feet, and making myself both king and lord in England;’” and, as Isabel repeated the words used by the king, she wept, and looked so lovely in tears that both the knight and squire were deeply moved.
“Madam,” said Collingham in a voice expressive of sympathy, “be not cast down by adversity, but take comfort. Fortune is much given to change. To-day she favours the king’s enemies; to-morrow she may declare for the king. But anyhow, royal lady, it is best to meet the future with a brave heart; and, for the present, the king deems it expedient that your safety and the safety of your son should be insured by a removal to Gloucester, which is a strong and loyal city, and to which I have orders to conduct you; so that, tide what may, you may feel that you and the prince are secure against the king’s enemies and your own.”
“Gloucester is a place associated in my mind with no pleasant memories,” said the queen with a sigh; “but it is vain to strive against fate, and I submit. I will be prepared to set out on the morrow, sir knight. Oh, vanity of vanities!” exclaimed she, sighing more deeply; “all is vanity and vexation of spirit.”
And, sinking back in her chair, Isabel of Angoulême looked the picture of disappointment.
Next day Isabel of Angoulême and her son, Prince Henry, left Savernake under the escort of William de Collingham and Oliver Icingla, and journeyed by rapid stages to Gloucester, a city so strongly fortified and garrisoned that the queen might, within its walls, congratulate herself on the fact that there at least she was, in some degree, secure against any attempts on the part of the baronial party to interfere with her personal liberty, or any attempt on their part to get possession of her son.
CHAPTER XVI
TAKEN BY SURPRISE
IT was neither the duty nor the inclination of William de Collingham and Oliver Icingla to linger in Gloucester. The city, indeed, was not without its attractions; and, with its castle and cathedral, and picturesque houses, from the balconies of which dames and demoiselles, the wives and daughters of the citizens, gazed with curiosity, and criticised the procession as Queen Isabel rode along the streets to the castle which had once been her prison, the place was sufficiently interesting and lively to have been agreeable under ordinary circumstances to such warriors as the knight and the squire. But both had orders to enact their parts elsewhere in the drama that was being played by the king and barons, and were animated, as was natural with persons of adventurous spirits, by a strong desire to hasten where their services were most likely to be appreciated. So, without losing a day, they mounted and rode out of the gate of Gloucester to go in different directions—Collingham to Lincoln, to join the garrison which, under Nicola de Camville, a noble dame of surpassing courage, held that city for the king; Icingla to make for Windsor, with a letter of importance which Isabel had intrusted to him, and intelligence that the queen and the prince had reached their destination, and that they were in safety behind the walls of Gloucester. For a short distance, however, their road lay in the same direction; and, riding side by side, they beguiled the way with conversation on the topics of the day, mingled with digressions on adventures in war and love.
At length they reached the point where their roads separated; and Collingham, as the elder and more experienced of the two, seemed to consider it his duty to favour his comrade with some wholesome advice for his guidance.