“Why, good Sir Maurice,” rejoined the wily politician, “start not aside like a scared steed, without, at least, considering the object of your terror. This Richard—but a day since, and it would have been thy dearest wish to have met him hand to hand in the ranks of battle; a hundred times I have heard thee wish it.”
“Ay,” said De Bracy, “but that was, as thou sayest, hand to hand, and in the ranks of battle! Thou never heardest me breathe a thought of assaulting him alone, and in a forest.”
“Thou art no good knight if thou dost scruple at it,” said Waldemar. “Was it in battle that Lancelot de Lac and Sir Tristram fa won renown? or was it not by encountering gigantic knights under the shade of deep and unknown forests?”
“Ay, but I promise you,” said De Bracy, “that neither Tristram nor Lancelot would have been match, hand to hand, for Richard Plantagenet, and I think it was not their wont to take odds against a single man.”
“Thou art mad, De Bracy: what is it we propose to thee, a hired and retained captain of Free Companions, whose swords are purchased for Prince John’s service? Thou art apprised of our enemy, and then thou scruplest, though thy patron’s fortunes, those of thy comrades, thine own, and the life and honour of every one amongst us, be at stake!”
“I tell you,” said De Bracy, sullenly, “that he gave me my life. True, he sent me from his presence, and refused my homage, so far I owe him neither favour nor allegiance; but I will not lift hand against him.”
“It needs not; send Louis Winkelbrand and a score of thy lances.”
“Ye have sufficient ruffians of your own,” said De Bracy; “not one of mine shall budge on such an errand.”
“Art thou so obstinate, De Bracy?” said Prince John; “and wilt thou forsake me, after so many protestations of zeal for my service?”
“I mean it not,” said De Bracy; “I will abide by you in aught that becomes a knight, whether in the lists or in the camp; but this highway practice comes not within my vow.”
“Come hither, Waldemar,” said Prince John. “An unhappy prince am I. My father, King Henry, had faithful servants. He had but to say that he was plagued with a factious priest, and the blood of Thomas-a-Becket, saint though he was, stained the steps of his own altar.4 Tracy, Morville, Brito,5 loyal and daring subjects, your names, your spirit, are extinct! and although Reginald Fitzurse hath left a son, he hath fallen off from his father’s fidelity and courage.”
“He has fallen off from neither,” said Waldemar Fitzurse; “and since it may not better be, I will take on me the conduct of this perilous enterprise. Dearly, however, did my father purchase the praise of a zealous friend; and yet did his proof of loyalty to Henry fall far short of what I am about to afford; for rather would I assail a whole calendar of saints than put spear in rest against C?ur-de-Lion. De Bracy, to thee I must trust to keep up the spirits of the doubtful, and to guard Prince John’s person. If you receive such news as I trust to send you, our enterprise will no longer wear a doubtful aspect. Page,” he said, “hie to my lodgings, and tell my armourer to be there in readiness; and bid Stephen Wetheral, Broad Thoresby, and the Three Spears of Spyinghow come to me instantly; and let the scout-master, Hugh Bardon, attend me also. Adieu, my Prince, till better times.” Thus speaking, he left the apartment.
“He goes to make my brother prisoner,” said Prince John to De Bracy, “with as little touch of compunction as if it but concerned the liberty of a Saxon franklin. I trust he will observe our orders, and use our dear Richard’s person with all due respect.”
De Bracy only answered by a smile.
“By the light of Our Lady’s brow,” said Prince John, “our orders to him were most precise, though it may be you heard them not, as we stood together in the oriel window. Most clear and positive was our charge that Richard’s safety should be cared for, and woe to Waldemar’s head if he transgress it!”
“I had better pass to his lodgings,” said De Bracy, “and make him fully aware of your Grace’s pleasure; for, as it quite escaped my ear, it may not perchance have reached that of Waldemar.”
“Nay, nay,” said Prince John, impatiently, “I promise thee he heard me; and, besides, I have farther occupation for thee. Maurice, come hither; let me lean on thy shoulder.”
They walked a turn through the hall in this familiar posture, and Prince John, with an air of the most confidential intimacy, proceeded to say, “What thinkest thou of this Waldemar Fitzurse, my De Bracy? He trusts to be our Chancellor. Surely we will pause ere we give an office so high to one who shows evidently how little he reverences our blood, by his so readily undertaking this enterprise against Richard. Thou dost think, I warrant, that thou hast lost somewhat of our regard by thy boldly declining this unpleasing task. But no, Maurice! I rather honour thee for thy virtuous constancy. There are things most necessary to be done, the perpetrator of which we neither love nor honour; and there may be refusals to serve us which shall rather exalt in our estimation those who deny our request. The arrest of my unfortunate brother forms no such good title to the high office of Chancellor as thy chivalrous and courageous denial establishes in thee to the truncheon of High Marshal. Think of this, De Bracy, and begone to thy charge.”
“Fickle tyrant!” muttered De Bracy, as he left the presence of the Prince; “evil luck have they who trust thee. Thy Chancellor, indeed! He who hath the keeping of thy conscience shall have an easy charge, I trow. But High Marshal of England! that,” he said, extending his arm, as if to grasp the batoon of office, and assuming a loftier stride along the antechamber—“that is indeed a prize worth playing for!”
De Bracy had no sooner left the apartment than Prince John summoned an attendant.
“Bid Hugh Bardon, our scout-master, come hither, as soon as he shall have spoken with Waldemar Fitzurse.”
The scout-master arrived after a brief delay, during which John traversed the apartment with unequal and disordered steps.
“Bardon,” said he, “what did Waldemar desire of thee?”
“Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern wilds, and skilful in tracking the tread of man and horse.”
“And thou has fitted him?”
“Let your Grace never trust me else,” answered the master of the spies. “One is from Hexhamshire; he is wont to trace the Tynedale and Teviotdale thieves, as a bloodhound follows the slot of a hurt deer. The other is Yorkshire bred, and has twanged his bowstring right oft in merry Sherwood; he knows each glade and dingle, copse and high-wood, betwixt this and Richmond.”
“’Tis well,” said the Prince. “Goes Waldemar forth with them?”
“Instantly,” said Bardon.
“With what attendance?” asked John, carelessly.
“Broad Thoresby goes with him, and Wetheral, whom they call, for his cruelty, Stephen Steel-Heart; and three northern men-at-arms that belonged to Ralph Middleton’s gang; they are called the Spears of Spyinghow.”
“’Tis well,” said Prince John; then added, after a moment’s pause, “Bardon, it imports our service that thou keep a strict watch on Maurice de Bracy, so that he shall not observe it, however. And let us know of his motions from time to time, with whom he converses, what he proposeth. Fail not in this, as thou wilt be answerable.”
Hugh Bardon bowed, and retired.
“If Maurice betrays me,” said Prince John—“if he betrays me, as his bearing leads me to fear, I will have his head, were Richard thundering at the gates of York.”
CHAPTER XXXV
