With the Black Prince

by William O. Stoddard

"On the king's business," said Richard. "See thou to it that I have a fresh steed ready to bear me to London town with the dawn, lest harm come."

"We are all the king's men here," said the landlord heartily. "Canst thou not give us the news of the day? What of the Scots? for thou art from the north."

Richard was slowly, painfully dismounting, but at the same moment another man, not in armor, was springing upon horseback to haste away.

"Yea," said Richard, "I will tell thee the news. I am Richard Neville of Wartmont——"

"Ha! hold thou thy tongue, then, and come in!" sharply returned the host of the inn, but he spoke in pure Saxon. "Do I not know that thou art watched for? I am of Arden, and I knew thy father. By thy hand fell the Club of Devon."

"Aye," said Richard, "but what peril is so near the gates of London?"

"Peril to thee that thou reach them not," replied his new friend. "There be those who would know the king's secret counsel. Small would be their care for thy throat. Eat well. Sleep well. Then ride thou on before the light cometh."

In walked Richard, hardly able to stand, but a room was given him, and here he took off his armor that he might bathe while a repast was preparing. It refreshed him much, but when the landlord came in and found him clad only in his doublet, he loudly exclaimed:

"On with thy mail, my Lord of Wartmont! Let thy bare sword lie by thee. I think thy nag may die, but I have thee a better one ready. 'Tis my own best mare, and she will stand saddled in the stall until thou comest for her."