'Father,' said Bessee, 'if father comes!'
'No, Bessee,' said her father; 'I have done with palaces. No places they for blind beggars.'
'Oh, let me go! let me go!' cried Bessee, struggling. And as the King released her hands, she flew to her father. 'He would lose himself without me! I must be with father. O King, go away! Father, don't let him take me! Let me cry for Jock of the Wooden Spoon, and Trig One Leg, and Hedgerow Wat!'
'Hush, hush, Bess!' said Henry, not desirous that his royal cousin should understand the strength of his body- guard of honour. 'The King here is as trusty and loyal as the boldest beggar among us. He only gave thee thy choice between him and me!'
'Thee, thee, father. He can't want me. He has two eyes and two hands, and a queen and two little girls; and thou hast only me!' and she clung round her father's neck.
'Little one,' said Edward, 'thou need'st not shrink from me. I will not take thee away. Thy father hath a treasure, and 'tis his part to strive not to throw it away. Only should either thou or he ever condescend so far as to seek for counsel with this poor cousin of thine, send this token to me, and I will be with thee.'
But it was full nine years ere Edward saw that jewel again. Meantime he was not entirely without knowledge of his kinsman. On every great occasion the figure, conspicuous for the scrupulous cleanliness of the dark russet gown, and the careful arrangement of the hair and beard, and the fillet which covered the eyes, as well as for a lordly bearing, that even the stoop of blindness could not disguise, was to be seen dominating over all the other beggars, sitting on the steps of church or palace gates, as if they had been a throne; troubling himself little to beg, but exchanging shrewd remarks with all who addressed him, and raising many a laugh among the bystanders. Leonillo lay contented at his feet; but after just enough time had elapsed to show that he cared not for the King's remonstrance, he ceased to be accompanied by his little daughter, and was led by a boy in her stead.
The King, making inquiries of the Grand Prior, learnt that pretty Bessee was daily deposited at the sisterhood of Poor Clares, where she remained while her father was out on his begging expeditions, and learnt such breeding as convents then gave.
'In sooth,' said Sir Robert, 'honest Hal believes it is all for good- will and charity and love to the pretty little wench; and so it is in great part: but methought it best to give a hint to the mother prioress that the child came of good blood. She is a discreet lady, and knows how to deal with her; and truly she tells me their house has prospered since the little one came to them. Every feast-day morn have they found their alms-dish weightier with coin than ever she knew it before.'
When Edward repeated this intelligence to his queen, she recollected Dame Idonea's gossiping information-that brave Sir Robert, the flower of the House of Darcy, had only entered the Order of St. John, when fair Alda Braithwayte, in the strong enthusiasm of the Franciscan preaching, had pleaded a vow of virginity against all suitors, and had finally become a Sister of the Poor Clares. And after all his wars and wanderings, the regulations of his Order had ended by bringing the Hospitalier in his old age into the immediate neighbourhood of Prioress Alda; and into that distant business intercourse that the heads of religious houses had from time to time to carry on together.
The world passed on. Eleanor de Montfort came from France, and the King himself acted the part of a father to her at her marriage with Llewellyn of Wales. He knew-though she little guessed-that the beggar, by whom her jewelled train swept with rustling sound, was the first-born of her father's house, and should have held her hand. Two years only did that marriage last; Eleanor died, leaving an infant daughter; and Llewellyn soon after was in arms against the English. Perhaps Edward bethought him of his cousin's ironical promise to go with him to the East after the pacification of the whole island, when he found himself obliged to summon the fierce Pyrenean to pursue the wild Welsh in their mountains.
CHAPTER XIV-THE QUEEN OF THE DEW-DROPS
'This is the prettiest low-born lass that ever Ran on a green sward.' -Winter's Tale.
It was the summer of 1283; the babe of Carnarvon had been accepted as the native prince, speaking no tongue but Welsh, and Edward had since been employed in establishing his dominion over Wales. His Whitsuntide was kept by the Queen's special entreaty at St. Winifred's Well. Such wonders had been told her of the miracles wrought by this favourite Welsh saint, that she hoped that by early placing her little Welsh-born son under such protection, she might secure for him healthier and longer life than had been the share of his brethren.
So to Holy-well went the court and army. Some lodged in the convent attached to the well; but many and many more dwelt in tents, or lodged in cottages, or raised huts of boughs of trees. Noble ladies of Eleanor's suite were glad to obtain a lodging in rude Welsh huts; and as the weather was beautiful, there was plenty of gay feasting, dancing, and jousting on the greensward, when the religious observances of the day were over. Pilgrims thronged from all parts, attracted both by the presence of the court and the unusual tranquillity of Wales; and for nearly a mile around the Holy-well it was like one great motley fair, resorted to by persons of all stations. Beggars of course were there in numbers, and among them the unfailing blind beggar of Bethnal Green, who always made a pilgrimage in the summer to some station of easy access from London, but whom some wondered to see at such a distance.
'Had he scented that the court was coming?' asked the young nobles.
'Not he; he never haunted courts. He would have kept away had he known that such a gabbling flock of popinjays were on the wing thither!'
But the young gallants were chiefly bent on speculating on the vision of loveliness that had flashed on the eyes of some early visitants at the well. A maiden in a dark pilgrim dress, and broad hat, which, however, could not entirely conceal a glowing complexion, at once rich and pure; perfect features, magnificent dark eyes and hair, and a tall form, which, though very youthful, was of unmistakable dignity and grace. She was always at the well exceedingly early in the morning, moving slowly round it on her beautiful bare feet, and never looking up from the string of dark beads-the larger ones of amber, which she held in her fingers-as her lips conned over the prayers connected with each. No ring was on the delicate hand, no ear-ring in the ear; there was no ornament in the dress, but such a garb was wont to be assumed by ladies of any rank when performing a vow; and its simplicity at once enhanced her beauty, and added to the general curiosity. Between four and six in the dewy freshness of morning seemed to be her time for devotion; and though the habits of the court were early, it was only the first astir who caught a sight of this Queen of the Dew-drops, as it was the fashion to call her. Late comers never caught sight of her, and affected incredulity when the younger and more active knights and squires raved about her. Then it was reported that the King himself had been seen speaking to her; and thereupon excitement grew the more intense, because Edward's exclusive devotion to his Queen had been such, that from his youth up the most determined scandal had never found a wandering glance to note in him.
She was the Princess of France-of Navarre-of Aragon-in disguise; nay, at the Whit-Sunday banquet there were those who cast anxious glances to the door, expecting that, in the very land of King Arthur, she would walk in like his errant dames at Pentecost, to demand a champion. And when a joust was given on the sward, young Sir John de Mohun, the Lord of Dunster, announced his intention of tilting in honour of no one save the Queen of the Dew- drops. The ladies of the court were rather scandalized, and appealed to the King whether the choice of an unknown girl, of no acknowledged rank, should be permitted; but the King, strict punctilious man as he was, only laughed, and adjudged the Queen of the Dew-drops to be fully worthy of the honour.
After this, early rising became the fashion of Holy-well. All the gentlemen got up early to look at the Queen of the Dew-drops; and all the ladies got up early to see that the gentlemen did not get into mischief; and the maiden's devotions became far from solitary; but she moved on, with a sort of superb unconcern, never lifting the dark fringes that veiled the eyes so steadily fixed on the beads that dropped through her fingers, until, as she finished, she raised up her head with a straightforward fearless look at the way she was going, so completely self-possessed that no one ventured to accost her, and to follow her at less than such a respectful distance, that she was always lost sight of in the wood.
At last, late one evening, there was a sudden start of exultant satisfaction among some of the young men who were lounging on the green; for the most part not the nobles of the court, but certain young merchants of London and Bristol, who had followed the course of pilgrimage by the magnetism of fashionable resort. The Queen of the Dew-drops was seen, carrying a pitcher! Up started four or five gallants, offering assistance, and standing round her, wrangling with one another, and besetting her steps.
'Let me pass, gentles,' she said with dignity, 'I am carrying wine in haste to my father.'
