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TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES 
 
TWO 
 PENNILESS PRINCESSES 
 
 BY 
 
 CHAELOTTE M. YONGE 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'the HEIR OF REDCLYFFE,' 'UNKNOWN TO HISTORY, 
 
 ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I 
 
 ILoittion 
 
 MACMILLAIN AND CO. 
 
 AND NEW YORK 
 1891 
 
 All rigMs reserved 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/twopennilessprin01yong 
 
8^3 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 1. Dunbar ..... 1 
 
 2. Departure ..... 43 
 
 3. Falcox and Fetterlock . . . 74 
 
 4. St. Helen's . . . . .109 
 
 5. The Meek Usurper. . . . 152 
 ■^ 6. The Price of a Goose . .190 
 
CHAPTEE I 
 
 DUNBAR 
 
 ' 'Twas on a night, an evening bright 
 
 "When the dew began to fa', 
 Lady Margaret was walking up and down, 
 Looking over her castle wa'.' 
 
 The battlements of a castle were, in disturbed times, 
 the only recreation-ground of the ladies and play- 
 place of the young people. Dunbar Castle, standing 
 on steep rocks above the North Sea, was not only 
 inaccessible on that side, but from its donjon tower 
 commanded a magnificent view, both of the expanse 
 of waves, taking purple tints from the shadows of 
 the clouds, with here and there a sail fleeting before 
 the wind, and of the rugged headlands of the coast, 
 point beyond point, the nearer distinct, and showing 
 
 VOL. I B 
 
2 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 the green summits, and below, the tossing waves 
 breaking white against the dark rocks, and the dis- 
 tance becoming more and more hazy, in spite of the 
 bright sun which made a broken path of glory along 
 the tossing, white-crested waters. 
 
 The wind was a keen north-east breeze, and 
 might have been thought too severe by any but the 
 ' hardy, bold, and wild ' children who were merrily 
 playing on the top of the donjon tower, round the 
 staff whence fluttered the double tressured banner 
 with ' the ruddy lion ramped in gold ' denoting the 
 presence of the King. 
 
 Three little boys, almost babies, and a little girl 
 not much older, were presided over by a small elder 
 sister, who held the youngest in her lap, and tried to 
 amuse him with caresses and rhymes, so as to prevent 
 his interference with the castle-building of the others, 
 with their small hoard of pebbles and mussel and 
 cockle shells. 
 
I DUNBAR 3 
 
 Another maiden, the wind tossing her long chest- 
 nut-locks, uncovered, but tied with the Scottish snood, 
 sat on the battlement, gazing far out over the waters, 
 with eyes of the same tint as the hair. Even the 
 sea-breeze failed to give more than a slight touch 
 of colour to her somewhat freckled complexion ; 
 and the limbs that rested in a careless attitude on 
 the stone bench were long and languid, though with 
 years and favourable circumstances there might be a 
 development of beauty and dignity. Her lips were 
 crooning at intervals a mournful old Scottish tune, 
 sometimes only humming, sometimes uttering its 
 melancholy burthen, and she now and then touched 
 a small harp that stood by her side on the seat. 
 
 She did not turn round when a step approached, 
 till a hand was laid on her shoulder, when she started, 
 and looked up into the face of another girl, on a 
 smaller scale, with a complexion of the lily-and-rose 
 kind, fair hair under her hood, with a hawk upon 
 
4 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 her wrist, and blue eyes dancing at the surprise of 
 her sister. 
 
 ' Eleanor in a creel, as usual ! ' she cried. 
 
 ' I thought it was only one of the bairns/ was 
 the answer. 
 
 ' They might coup over the walls for aught thou 
 seest/ returned the new-comer. 'If it were not 
 for little Mary what would become of the poor 
 weans ? ' 
 
 ' What will become of any of us ? ' said Eleanor. 
 ' I was gazing out over the sea and wishing we could 
 drift away upon it to some land of rest.' 
 
 'The Glenuskie folk are going to try another 
 land/ said Jean. ' I was in the bailey- court even 
 now playing at ball with Jamie when in comes a 
 lay-brother, with a letter from Sir Patrick to say 
 that he is coming the night to crave permission from 
 Jamie to go with his wife to Fmnce. Annis, as you 
 know, is betrothed to the son of his French friends, 
 
I DUNBAR 5 
 
 Malcolm is to study at the Paris University, and 
 Davie to be in the Scottish Guards to learn chivalry 
 like his father. And the Leddy of Glenuskie — our 
 Cousin Lilian — is going with them.' 
 
 ' And she will see Margaret/ said Eleanor. ' Meg 
 the dearie ! Dost remember Meg, Jeanie ? ' 
 
 ' Well, well do I remember her, and how she 
 used to let us nestle in her lap and sing to us. 
 She sang like thee, Eileen, and was as mother-like 
 as Mary is to the weans, but she was much blithe- 
 somer — at least before our father was slain.' 
 
 ' Sweetest Meg ! My whole heart leaps after 
 her,' cried Eleanor, with a fervent gesture. 
 
 ' I loved her better than Isabel, though she was 
 not so bonnie,' said Jean. 
 
 * Jeanie, Jeanie,' cried Eleanor, turning round 
 with a vehemence strangely contrasting with her 
 previous language, ' wherefore should we not go with 
 Glenuskie to be with Mesj at Bourses ? ' 
 
6 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES CHAP. 
 
 Jeanie opened her blue eyes wide. 
 
 ' Go to the French King's Court ? ' she said. 
 
 ' To the land of chivalry and song,' exclaimed 
 Eleanor, ' where they have courts of love and -poetry, 
 and tilts and tourneys and minstrelsy, and the sun 
 shines as it never does in this cold bleak north ; and 
 above all there is Margaret, dear tender Margaret, 
 almost a queen, as a queen she will be one day. 
 Oh ! I almost feel her embrace.' 
 
 ' It might be well,' said Jean, in the matter-of- 
 fact tone of a practical young lady ; ' mewed up in 
 these dismal castles, we shall never get princely hus- 
 bands like our sisters. I might be Queen of Beauty ; 
 I doubt me whether yon are fair enough, Eleanor.' 
 
 ' Oh, that is not what I think of,' said Eleanor. 
 ' It is to see our own Margaret, and to see and hear 
 the minstrel knights, instead of the rude savages 
 here, scarce one of whom knows what knighthood 
 means ! ' 
 
I DUNBAR 7 
 
 ' Ay, and they will lay hands on us and wed 
 us one of these days/ returned Jean, ' unless we 
 vow ourselves as nuns, and I have no mind for 
 that/ 
 
 'Nor would a convent always guard us/ said 
 Eleanor ; ' these reivers do not stick at sanctuary. 
 Now in that happy land ladies meet with courtesy, 
 and there is a minstrel king like our father, Eene is 
 his name, uncle to Margaret's husband. Oh ! it 
 would be a very paradise/ 
 
 ' Let us go, let us go ! ' exclaimed Jean. 
 
 ' Go ! ' said Mary, who had drawn nearer to them 
 while they spoke. ' Whither did ye say ? ' 
 
 * To France — to sister Margaret and peace and 
 sunshine/ said Eleanor. 
 
 ' Eh ! ' said the girl, a pale fair child of twelve ; 
 ' and what would poor Jamie and the weans do, 
 wanting their titties ? ' 
 
 ' Ye are but a bairn, Mary,' was Jean's answer. 
 
8 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 'We sliall do better for Jamie by wedding some 
 great lords in the far country than by waiting here 
 at home.' 
 
 ' And James will soon have a queen of his own 
 to guide him/ added Eleanor. 
 
 ' I'll no quit Jamie or the weans/ said httle Mary 
 resolutely, turning back as the three-year-old boy 
 elicited a squall from the eighteen-months one. 
 
 ' Johnnie ! Johnnie ! what gars ye tak' away wee 
 Andie's claw ? Here, my mannie/ 
 
 And she was kneeling on the leads, making peace 
 over the precious crab's claw, which, with a few 
 cockles and mussels, was the choicest toy of these 
 forlorn young Stewarts ; for Stewarts they all were, 
 though the three youngest, the weans, as they were 
 called, were only half-brothers to the rest. 
 
 Nothing, in point of fact, could have been much 
 more forlorn than the condition of all. The father 
 of the elder ones, James I, the flower of the whole 
 
I DUNBAR 9 
 
 Stewart race, had nine years before fallen a victim 
 to the savage revenge and ferocity of the lawless 
 men whom he had vainly endeavoured to restrain, 
 leaving an only son of six years old and six young 
 daughters. His wife, Joanna, once the Nightingale 
 of Windsor, had wreaked vengeance in so barbarous 
 a manner as to increase the dislike to her as an 
 Englishwoman. Forlorn and in danger, she tried 
 to secure a protector by a marriage with Sir James 
 Stewart, called the Black Knight of Lorn ; but he 
 was unable to do much for her, and only added the 
 feuds of his own family to increase the general 
 danger. The two eldest daughters, Margaret and 
 Isabel, were already contracted to the Dauphin and 
 the Duke of Brittany, and were soon sent to their 
 new homes. The little King, the one darling of his 
 mother, was snatched from her, and violently trans- 
 ferred from one fierce guardian to another; each 
 regarding the possession of his person as a sanction 
 
10 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES CHAP. 
 
 to tyranny. He had been introduced to the two 
 winsome young Douglases only as a prelude to their 
 murder, and every day brought tidings of some fresh 
 violence ; nay, for the second time, a murder was 
 perpetrated in the Queen's own chamber. 
 
 The poor woman had never been very tender or 
 affectionate, and had the haughty demeanour with 
 which the house of Somerset had thought fit to 
 assert their claims to royalty. The cruel slaughter 
 of her first husband, perhaps the only person for 
 whom she had ever felt a softenino- love, had 
 hardened and soured her. She despised and 
 domineered over her second husband, and made no 
 secret that the number of her daughters was 
 oppressive, and that it was hard that while the 
 royal branch had produced, with one exception, only 
 useless pining maidens, her second marriage in too 
 quick succession should bring her sons, who could 
 only be a burthen. No one greatly marvelled 
 
I DUNBAR 11 
 
 when, a few weeks after the birth of little Andrew, 
 his father disappeared, though whether he had 
 perished in some brawl, been lost at sea, or sought 
 foreign service as far as possible from his queenly 
 wife and inconvenient family, no one knew. 
 
 Not long after, the Queen, with her four daughters 
 and the infants, had been seized upon by a noted 
 freebooter, Patrick Hepburn of Hailes, and carried 
 to Dunbar Castle, probably to serve as hostages, for 
 they were fairly well treated, though never allowed 
 to go beyond the walls. The Queen's health had, 
 however, been greatly shaken, the cold blasts of 
 the north wind withered her up, and she died in 
 the beginning of the year 1445. 
 
 The desolateness of the poor girls had perhaps 
 been greater than their grief. Poor Joanna had 
 been exacting and tyrannical, and with no female 
 attendants but the old, worn-out English nurse, 
 had made them do her all sorts of services, which 
 
12 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 were requited with scoldings and grumblings instead 
 of the loving thanks which ought to have made them 
 offices of affection as well as duty ; while the poor 
 little boys would indeed have fared ill if their half- 
 sister Mary, though only twelve years old, had not 
 been one of those girls who are endowed from the 
 first with tender, motherly instincts. 
 
 Beyond providing that there was a supply of 
 some sort of food, and that they were confined 
 within the walls of the castle, Hepburn did not 
 trouble his head about his prisoners, and for many 
 weeks they had no intercourse with any one save 
 Archie Scott, an old groom of their mother's ; 
 Ankaret, nurse to baby Andrew; and the seneschal 
 and his wife, both Hepburns. 
 
 Eleanor and Jean, who had been eight and seven 
 years old at the time of the terrible catastrophe 
 which had changed all their lives, had been well 
 taught under their father's influence ; and the 
 
I DUNBAR 13 
 
 former, who had inherited much of his talent and 
 poetical nature, had availed herself of every scanty 
 opportunity of feeding her imagination by book or 
 ballad, story-teller or minstrel ; and the store of 
 tales, songs, and fancies that she had accumulated 
 were not only her own chief resource but that of 
 her sisters, in the many long and dreary hours that 
 they had to pass, unbrightened save by the inex- 
 tinguishable buoyancy of young creatures together. 
 When their mother was dying, Hepburn could not 
 help for very shame admitting a priest to her bedside, 
 and allowing the clergy to perform her obsequies in 
 full form. This had led to a more complete 
 perception of the condition of the poor princesses, 
 just at the time when the two worst tyrants over 
 the young King, Crichton and Livingstone, had 
 fallen out, and he had been able to put himself 
 under the guidance of his first cousin, James Kennedy, 
 Bishop of St. Andrews and now Chancellor of 
 
U TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 Scotland, one of the wisest, best, and truest-hearted 
 men in Scotland, and imbued with the spirit of the 
 late Kinsj. 
 
 By his management Hepburn was induced to 
 make submission and deliver up Dunbar Castle to 
 the King with all its captives, and the meeting 
 between the brother and sisters was full of extreme 
 delight on both sides. They had been together 
 very little since their father's death, only meeting 
 enough to make them long for more opportunities ; 
 and the boy at fifteen years old was beginning to 
 weary after the home feeling of rest among kindred, 
 and was so happy amidst his sisters that no attempt 
 at breaking up the party at Dunbar had yet been 
 made, as its situation made it a convenient abode 
 for the Court. Though he had never had such 
 advantages of education as, strangely enough, 
 captivity had afforded to his father, he had not been 
 untaught, and his rapid, eager, intelligent mind 
 
1 DUNBAR 15 
 
 had caught at all opportunities afforded by those 
 palace monasteries of Scotland in which he had 
 stayed for various periods of his vexed and stormy 
 minority. Good Bishop Kennedy, with whom he 
 had now spent many months, had studied at Paris 
 and had passed four years at Eome, so as to be well 
 able both to enlarge and stimulate his notions. In 
 Eleanor he had found a companion delighted to 
 share his studies, and full likewise of original fancy 
 and of that vein of poetry almost peculiar to 
 Scottish women ; and Jean was equally charming 
 for all the sports in which she could take part, 
 while the little ones, whom, to his credit be it 
 spoken, he always treated as brothers, were pleasant 
 playthings. 
 
 His presence, with all that it involved, had made 
 a most happy change in the maidens' lives ; and 
 yet there was still great dreariness, much restraint 
 in the presence of constant precaution against 
 
16 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 violence, mucli rudeness and barbarism in the 
 surroundings, absolute poverty in the plenishing, a 
 lack of all beauty save in the wild and rugged face 
 of northern nature, and it was hardly to be wondered 
 at that young people, inheritors of the cultivated 
 instincts of James I. and of the Plantagenets, 
 should yearn for something beyond, especially for 
 that sunny southern land which report and youth- 
 ful imagination made them believe an ideal world 
 of peace, of poetry, and of chivalry, and the loving 
 elder sister who seemed to them a part of that 
 golden age when their noble and tender-hearted 
 father was among them. 
 
 The boy's foot was on the turret- stairs, and he 
 was out on the battlements — a tall lad for his age, 
 of the same colouring as Eleanor, and very handsome, 
 except for the blemish of a dark-red mark upon one 
 cheek. 
 
 ' How now, wee Andie ? ' he exclaimed, tossing 
 
I DUNBAK 17 
 
 the baby boy up in his arms, and then on the cry 
 of ' Johnnie too ! ' ' Me too ! ' performing the same 
 feat with the other two, the last so boisterously that 
 Mary screamed that ' the bairnie would be coupit 
 over the crag.' 
 
 * What, looking out over the sea ? ' he cried to 
 his elder sisters. ' That's the wrang side ! Ye 
 should look out on the other, to see Glenuskie 
 coming with Davie and Malcolm, so we'll have no 
 lack of minstrelsy and tales to-night, that is if the 
 doited old council will let me alone. Here, come 
 to the southern tower to watch for them.' 
 
 The sisters had worked themselves to the point 
 of eagerness where propitious moments are dis-* 
 regarded, and both broke out — 
 
 ' Glenuskie is going to Margaret. "We want to 
 go with him ! ' 
 
 ' Go ! Go to Margaret and leave me ! ' cried 
 
 James, the red spot on his face spreading. 
 VOL. I c 
 
18 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Oh, Jamie, it is so dull and dreary, and folks 
 are so fierce and rude.' 
 
 ' That might be when that loon Hepburn had you, 
 but now you have me, who can take order with them.' 
 
 'You cannot do all, Jamie,' persisted Eleanor; 
 ' and we long after that fair smooth land of peace. 
 Lady Glenuskie would take good care of us till we 
 came to Margaret.' 
 
 ' Ay ! And 'tis little you heed how it is with 
 me,' exclaimed James, /when you are gone to your 
 dafi&ng and singing and dancing — with me that 
 have saved you from that reiver Hepburn.' 
 
 ' Jamie, dear, I'll never quit ye,' said little 
 Mary's gentle voice. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 ' You are a leal faithful little lady, Mary ; but 
 you are no good as yet, when Angus is speiring for 
 my sister for his heir.' 
 
 ' And do you trow,' said Jean hotly, ' that when 
 
I DUNBAR 19 
 
 one sister is to be a queen, and the other is next 
 thing to it, we are going to put up with a raw-boned, 
 red-haired, unmannerly Scots earl ? ' 
 
 * And do you forget who is King of Scotland, ye 
 proud peat ? ' her brother cried in return. 
 
 ' A braw sort of king,' returned Jean, ' who could 
 not hinder his mother and sisters from being stolen 
 by an outlaw/ 
 
 The pride and hot temper of the Beauforts had 
 descended to both brother and sister, and James 
 lifted his hand with ' Dare to say that again ' ; and 
 Jean was beginning ' I dare,' when little Annaple 
 opportunely called, ' There's a plump of spears coming 
 over the hill.' • 
 
 There was an instant rush to watch them, James 
 saying — 
 
 ' The Drummond banner ! Ye shall see how 
 Glenuskie mocks at this same fine fancy of 
 yours ' ; and he ran downstairs at no kingly pace. 
 
20 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 letting the heavy nail - studded door bang after 
 him. 
 
 ' He will never let us go/ sighed Jean. 
 'You worked him into one of his tempers/ 
 returned Eleanor. ' You should have broached it to 
 liim more by degrees.' 
 
 ' And lost the chance of going with Sir Patie 
 and his wife, and got plighted to the red-haired 
 Master of Angus — never see sweet Meg and her 
 braw court, and the tilts and tourneys, but live 
 among murderous caitiffs and reivers all my days,' 
 sobbed Jean. 
 
 ' I would not be such a fule body as to give in 
 for a hasty word or two, specially of Jamie's,' said 
 Eleanor composedly. 
 
 ' And gin ye bide here,' added gentle Mary, ' we 
 shall be all together, and you will have Jamie and 
 the bairnies.' 
 
 * Fine consolation,' muttered Jean. 
 
I DUNBAR 21 
 
 ' Eh well/ said Eleanor, ' we must go down and 
 meet tliem.' 
 
 ' This fashion ! ' exclaimed Jean. ' Look at your 
 hair, Ellie — blown wild about your ears like a daft 
 woman's, and your kirtle all over mortar and smut. 
 My certie, you would be a bonnie lady to be Queen 
 of Love and Beauty at a jousting-match.' 
 
 ' You are no better, Jeanie,' responded Eleanor. 
 
 'That I ken full well, but I'd be shamed to 
 show myself to knights and lairds that gate. And 
 see, Mary and all the lave have their hands as black 
 as a caird's.' 
 
 ' Come and let Andie's Mary wash them,' said 
 that little personage, picking up fat Andrew in»her 
 arms, while he retained his beloved crab's claw. 
 'Jeanie, would you carry Johnnie, he's not sure-footed, 
 over the stair? Annaple, take Lorn's hand over 
 the kittle turning.' 
 
 One chamber was allotted to the entire party 
 
22 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 and their single nurse. Being far up in the tower, 
 it ventured to have two windows in the massive 
 walls, so thick that five-and-twenty steps from the 
 floor were needed to reach the narrow slips of glass 
 in a frame that could be removed at will, either to 
 admit the air or to be exchanged for solid wooden 
 shutters to exclude storms by sea or arrows and 
 bolts by land. The lower part of the walls was 
 hung with very grim old tapestry, on which 
 Holof ernes' head, going into its bag, could just be 
 detected; there were two great solid box -beds, two 
 more pallets rolled up for the day, a chest or two, 
 a rude table, a cross-legged chair, a few stools, and 
 some deer and seal skins spread on the floor com- 
 pleted the furniture of this ladies' bower. There 
 was, unusual luxury, a chimney with a hearth and 
 peat fire, and a cauldron on it, with a silver and 
 a copper basin beside it for washing purposes, 
 never discarded by poor Queen Joanna and her old 
 
I DUNBAR 23 
 
 English nurse Ankaret, who had remained be side 
 her through all the troubles of the stormy and 
 barbarous country, and, though crippled by a fall 
 and racked with rheumatism, was the chief comfort 
 of the young children. She crouched at the hearth 
 with her spinning and her beads, and exclaimed at the 
 tossed hair and soiled hands and faces of her charges. 
 Mary brought the little ones to her to be set to 
 rights, and the elder girls did their best with their 
 toilette. Princesses as they were, the ruddy golden 
 tresses of Eleanor and the flaxen locks of Jean and 
 Mary were the only ornaments that they could boast 
 of as their own ; and though there were silken and 
 embroidered garments of their mother's in one of the 
 chests, their mourning forbade the use of them. 
 The girls only wore the plain black kirtles that had 
 been brought from Haddington at the time of the 
 funeral, and the little boys had such homespun 
 garments as the shepherd lads wore. 
 
24 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 Partly scolding, partly caressing, partly bemoan- 
 ing the condition of her young ladies, so different 
 from the splendours of the house of Somerset, 
 Ankaret saw that Eleanor was as fit to be seen as 
 circumstances would permit; as to Jean and Mary, 
 there was no trouble on that score. 
 
 The whole was not accomplished till a horn was 
 sounded as an intimation that supper was ready, at 
 five o'clock, for the entire household, and all made 
 their way down — Jean first, in all the glory of her 
 fair face and beautiful hair ; then Eleanor with little 
 Lorn, as he was called, liis Christian name being 
 James; then Annaple and Johnnie hand-in-hand, 
 Mary carrjdng Andrew, and lastly old Ankaret, 
 hobbling along with her stick, and, when out of 
 sight, a hand on Annaple's shoulder. In public, 
 nothing would have made her presume so far. The 
 hall was a huge, vaulted, stone-walled room, with a 
 great fire on the wide hearth, and three long tables 
 
I DUNBAR 25 
 
 — one was cross-wise, on the dais near the fire, tlie 
 other two ran the length of the hall. The upper 
 one was furnished with tolerably clean napery and 
 a few silver vessels ; as to the lower ones, they were 
 in two degrees of comparison, and the less said of 
 the third the better. It was for the men-at-arms 
 and the lowest servants, whereas the second belonged 
 to those of the suite of the King and Chancellor, 
 who were not of rank to be at his table. The Lord 
 Lion King-at-Arms was high-table company, but he 
 was absent, and the inferior royal pursuivant was 
 entertaining two of his fellows, one with the Douglas 
 Bloody Heart, the other with the Lindsay Lion on a 
 black field, besides two messengers of the different 
 clans, who looked askance at one another. 
 
 Leaning against the wall near the window stood 
 the young King with two or three youths beside 
 him, laughing and talking over three great deer- 
 hounds, and by the hearth were two elder men — 
 
26 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 one, a tall dignified figure in the square cap and 
 purple robe of a Bishop, with a face of great wisdom 
 and sweetness ; the other, still taller, with slightly 
 grizzled hair and the weather-beaten countenance 
 of a valiant and sagacious warrior, dressed in the 
 leathern garments usually worn under armour. 
 
 As Jean emerged from the turret she was met 
 and courteously greeted by Sir Patrick Drummond 
 and his sons, as were also her sisters, with a grace 
 and deference to their rank such as they hardly ever 
 received from the nobles, and whose very rarity 
 made Eleanor shy and uncomfortable, even while 
 she was gratified and accepted it as her due. 
 
 The Bishop inclined his head and gave them a 
 kind smile ; but they had already seen him in the 
 morning, as he was residing in the castle. He was 
 the most fatherly friend and kinsman the young 
 things knew, and though really their first cousin, 
 they looked to him like an uncle. He insisted on 
 
I DUNBAR 27 
 
 due ceremony with them, though he had much 
 difficulty in enforcing it, except with those Scottish 
 knights and nobles who, like Sir Patrick Drummond, 
 had served in France, and retained their French 
 breeding. 
 
 So Jean, hawk and all, had to be handed to her 
 seat by Sir Patrick as the guest, Eleanor by her 
 brother, not without a little fraternal pinch, and 
 Mary by the Bishop, who answered with a paternal 
 caress to her murmured entreaty that she might keep 
 wee Andie on her lap and give him his brose. 
 
 It was not a sumptuous repast, the staple being 
 a haggis, also broth with chunks of meat and barley- 
 corns floating in it, the meat in strings by force of 
 boiling. At the high table each person had a bowl, 
 either silver or wood, and each had a private spoon, 
 and a dagger to serve as knife, also a drinking-cup 
 of various materials, from the King's gold goblet 
 downwards to horns, and a bannock to eat with the 
 
28 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 brose. At the middle table trenchers and bannocks 
 served the purpose of plates ; and at the third there 
 was nothing interposed between the boards of the 
 table and the lumps of meat from which the soup 
 had been made. 
 
 Jean's quick eyes soon detected more men-at- 
 arms and with different badges from the thyme spray 
 of Drummond, and her brother was evidently bursting 
 with some communication, held back almost forcibly 
 by the Bishop, who had established a considerable 
 influence over the impetuous boy, while Sir Patrick 
 maintained a wise and tedious political conversation 
 about the peace between France and England, which 
 was to be cemented by the marriage of the young* 
 King of England to the daughter of King Eene and 
 the cession of Anjou and Maine to her father. 
 
 ' Solid dukedoms for a lassie ! ' cried young James. 
 * What a craven to make such a bargain ! ' 
 
 ' Scarce like his father's son,' returned Sir Patrick, 
 
I DUNBAR 29 
 
 ' who gat the bride with a kingdom for her tocher 
 that these folks have well-nigh lost among them.' 
 
 ' The saints be praised if they have.' 
 
 ' I cannot forget, my liege, how your own sainted 
 father loved and fought for King Harry of Mon- 
 mouth. Foe as he was, I own that I shall never 
 look on his like again.' 
 
 * I hold with you in that, Patie/ said Bishop 
 Kennedy ; ' and frown as you may, my young liege, 
 a few years with such as he would do more for you 
 — as it did with your blessed father — than ever we 
 can.' 
 
 'I can hold mine own, I hope, without lessons 
 from the enemy,' said James, holding his head high, 
 while his ruddy locks flew back, his eyes glanced, 
 and the red scar on his cheek widened. ' And is it 
 true that you are for going through false England, 
 Patie ? ' 
 
 ' I made friends there when I spent two years 
 
30 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 there with your Grace's blessed father,' returned 
 Sir Patrick, ' and so did my good wife. She longs 
 to see the lady who is now Sister Clare at St. 
 Katharine's in London, and it is well not to let her 
 and Annis brook the long sea voyage.' 
 
 ' There, Jean ! I'd brook ten sea voyages rather 
 than hold myself beholden to an Englishman ! ' 
 quoth James. 
 
 'Nevertheless, there are letters and messages 
 that it is well to confide to so trusty and wise- 
 headed a knight as Glenuskie,' returned the 
 Bishop. 
 
 The meal over, the silver bowls were carried 
 round with water to wash the hands by the two 
 young Drummonds, sons of Glenuskie, and by the 
 King's pages, youths of about the same age, after 
 which the Bishop and Sir Patrick asked licence of 
 the King to retire for consultation to the Bishop's 
 apartment, a permission which, as may well be 
 
I DUNBAR 31 
 
 believed, lie granted readily, only rejoicing that he 
 was not wanted. 
 
 The little ones were carried off by Mary and 
 Nurse Ankaret ; and the King, his elder sisters, and 
 the other youths of condition betook themselves, 
 followed by half-a-dozen great dogs, to the court, 
 where the Drummonds wanted to exhibit the horses 
 procured for the journey, and James and Jean to 
 show the hawks that were the pride of their 
 heart. 
 
 By and by came an Italian priest, who acted as 
 secretary to the Bishop — a poor little man who 
 grew yellower and yellower, was always shivering, 
 and seemed to be shrivelled into growing smaller 
 and smaller by the Scottish winds, but who had a 
 most keen and intelligent face. 
 
 ' How now. Father Eomuald,' called out James. 
 ' Are ye come to fetch me ? ' 
 
 ' Di grazia, Signor R^l began the Italian in some 
 
32 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 fear, as the dogs smelled his lambskin cape. 'The 
 Lord Bishop entreats your Majesty's presence.' 
 
 His Majesty, who, by the way, never was so 
 called by any one else, uttered some bitter growls 
 and grumbles, but felt forced to obey the call, 
 taking with him, however, his beautiful falcon 
 on his wrist, and the two huge deer - hounds, 
 who he declared should be of the council if 
 he was. 
 
 Jean and Eleanor then closed upon David and 
 Malcolm, eagerly demanding of them what they 
 expected in that wonderful land to which they 
 were going, much against the will of young David, 
 who was sure there would be no hunting of deer, 
 nor hawking for grouse, nor riding after an English 
 borderer or Hieland cateran — nothing, in fact, worth 
 living for ! It would be all a-wearying with their 
 manners and their courtesies and such like daft 
 woman's gear ! Why could not his father be con- 
 
I DUNBAK 33 
 
 tent to let him grow up like his fellows, rough and 
 free and ready ? 
 
 'And knowing nothing better — nothing beyond/ 
 said Eleanor. 
 
 ' What would you have better than the hill and 
 the brae ? To tame a horse and fly a hawk, and 
 couch a lance and bend a bow ! That's what a man 
 is made for, without fashing himself with letters and 
 Latin and manners, no better than a monk ; but my 
 father would always have it so ! ' 
 
 ' Ye'll be thankful to him yet, Davie,' put in his 
 graver brother. 
 
 ' Thankful ! I shall forget all about it as soon as 
 I am knighted, and make you write all my letters 
 — and few enough there will be.' 
 
 ' And you, Malcolm ! ' said Eleanor, ' would you 
 be content to hide within four walls, and know 
 nothing by your own eyes ? ' 
 
 ' No indeed, cousin,' replied the lad ; ' I long 
 
 VOL. I D 
 
34 TWO PENNILESS PRIXCESSES chap. 
 
 for the fair churches and cloisters and the learned 
 men and books that my father tells of. My mother 
 says that her brother, that I am named for, yearned 
 to make this a land of peace and godliness, and to 
 turn these high spirits to God's glory instead of 
 man's strife and feud, and how it might have been 
 done save for the slaying of your noble father — 
 Saints rest him ! — which broke mine uncle's heart, 
 so that he died on his way home from pilgrimage. 
 She hopes to pray at his tomb that I may tread in 
 his steps, and be a blessing and not a curse to the 
 land we love.' 
 
 Eleanor was silent, seeing for the first time that 
 there might be higher aims than escajDing from 
 dulness, strife, and peril ; whilst Jean cried — 
 
 ' 'Tis the titles and jousts, the knights and ladies 
 that I care for — men that know what fair chivalry 
 means, and make knightly vows to dare all sorts of 
 foes for a lady's sake.' 
 
I DUNBAR 35 
 
 ^As if any lass was worth it,' said David con- 
 temptuously. 
 
 ' Ay, that's what you are ! That's what it is to 
 live in this savage realm,' returned Jean. 
 
 At this moment, however, Brother Eomuald was 
 again seen advancing, and this time with a request 
 for the presence of the ladies Jean and Eleanor. 
 
 ' Could James be relenting on better advice ? ' 
 they asked one another as they went. 
 
 ' More likely,' said Jean, with a sigh, amount- 
 ing to a groan, 'it is only to hear that we are 
 made over, like a couple of kine, to some ruffianly 
 reivers, who will beat a princess as soon as a 
 scullion.' ♦ 
 
 They reached the chamber in time. Though 
 the Bishop slept there it also served for a council- 
 chamber; and as he carried his chapel and house- 
 hold furniture about with him, it was a good deal 
 more civilised -looking than even the princesses' 
 
36 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 room. Large folding screens, worked with tapestry, 
 representing the lives of the saints, shut off the part 
 used as an oratory and that which served as a bed- 
 chamber, where indeed the good man slept on a 
 rush mat on the floor. There were a table and 
 several chairs and stools, all capable of being folded 
 up for transport. The young King occupied a large 
 chair of state, in which he twisted himself in a very 
 undignified manner ; the Bishop - Chancellor sat 
 beside him, with the Great Seal of Scotland and 
 some writing materials, parchments, and letters 
 before him, and Sk Patrick came forward to receive 
 and seat the young ladies, and then remained stand- 
 ing — as few of his rank in Scotland would have 
 done on their account. 
 
 ' Well, lassies,' began the King, ' here's lads enow 
 for you. There's the Master of Angus, as ye ken — ' 
 (Jean tossed her head) — ' moreover, auld Crawford 
 wants one of you for his son.' 
 
I DUNBAR 37 
 
 ' The Tyger Earl/ gasped Eleanor. 
 
 'And with Stniing for your portion, the modest 
 fellow/ added James. 'Ay, and that's not all. 
 There's the MacAlpin threats me with all his clan 
 if I dinna give you to him ; and Mackay is not 
 behindhand, but will come down with pibroch and 
 braidsword and five hundred caterans to pay his 
 court to you, and make short work of all others. 
 My certie, sisters seem but a cause for threats from 
 reivers, though maybe they would not be so uncivil 
 if once they had you.' 
 
 ' Oh, Jamie ! oh ! dear holy Father,' cried 
 Eleanor, turning from the King to the Bishop, ' do 
 not, for mercy's sake, give me over to one of those 
 ruffians.' 
 
 'They are coming, Eleanor/ said James, with a 
 boy's love of terrifying ; ' the MacAlpin and Mackay 
 are both coming down after you, and we shall have 
 a fight like the Clan Chattan and Clan Kay. 
 
38 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 There's for the demoiselle who craved for knights to 
 break lances for her ! ' 
 
 ' Knights indeed ! Highland thieves/ said Jean ; 
 ' and 'tis for what tocher they may force from you, 
 James, not for her face.' 
 
 ^You are right there, my puir bairn,' said the 
 Bishop. ' These men — save perhaps the young 
 Master of Angus — only seek your hands as a pre- 
 text for demands from your brother, and for spuilzie 
 and robbery among themselves. And I for my 
 part would never counsel his Grace to yield the 
 lambs to the wolves, even to save himself 
 
 ' No, indeed,' broke in the King ; ' we may not 
 have them fighting down here, though it would be 
 rare sport to look on, if you were not to be the 
 prize. So my Lord Bishop here trows, and I am 
 of the same mind, that the only safety is that the 
 birds should be flown, and that you should have 
 your wish and be away the morn, with Patie of 
 
I DUNBAR 39 
 
 Glenuskie here, since lie will take the charge of two 
 such silly lasses.' 
 
 The sudden granting of their wish took the 
 maidens' breath away. They looked from one to 
 the other without a word ; and the Bishop, in more 
 courtly language, explained that amid all these con- 
 tending parties he could not but judge it wiser to 
 put the King's two marriageable sisters out of reach, 
 either of a violent abduction, or of being the cause 
 of a savage contest, in either case ending in demands 
 that would be either impossible or mischievous for 
 the Crown to grant, and moreover in misery for 
 themselves. 
 
 Sir Patrick added something courteous about the 
 honour of the charge. 
 
 ' So soon ! ' gasped Jean ; ' are we really to go 
 the morn ? ' 
 
 'With morning light, if it be possible, fair 
 ladies,' said Sir Patrick. 
 
40 TWO PEXXILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Ay/ said James, ' then will we take Mary and 
 the weans to the nunnery in St. Mary's Wynd, 
 where none will dare to molest them, and I shall go 
 on to St. Andrews or Stirling, as may seem fittest ; 
 while we leave old Seneschal Peter to keep the 
 castle gates shut. If the Hielanders come, they'll 
 find the nut too hard for them to crack, and the 
 kernel gone, so you'd best burn no more daylight, 
 maidens, but busk ye, as women will.' 
 
 ' Oh, Jamie, to speak so lightly of parting ! ' 
 sighed Eleanor. 
 
 ' Come — no fule greeting, now you have your 
 will,' hastily said James, who could hardly bear it 
 himself 
 
 ' Our gear ! ' faltered Jeanie, with consternation 
 at their ill-furnished wardrobes. 
 
 ' For that,' said the Bishop, ' you must leave the 
 supply till you are over the Border, when the Lady 
 Glenuskie will see to your appearing as nigh as may 
 
I DUNBAR 41 
 
 be as befits tlie claugbters of Scotland among your 
 English kin.' 
 
 ' But we have not a mark between us/ said 
 Jean, ' and all my mother's jewels are pledged to 
 the Lombards.' 
 
 'There are moneys falling due to the Crown/ 
 said the Bishop, 'and I can advance enow to Sir 
 Patrick to provide the gear and horses.' 
 
 ' And my gude wife's royal kin are my guests 
 till they win to their sister,' added Sir Patrick. 
 
 And so it was settled. It was an evening 
 of bustle and a night of wakefulness. There 
 were floods of tears poured out by and over sweet 
 little Mary and good old Ankaret, not to speak 
 of those which James scorned to shed. Had a 
 sudden stop been put to the journey, perhaps, 
 Eleanor would have been relieved but Jean sorely 
 disappointed. 
 
 It was further decided that Father Ptomuald 
 
42 TWO PENNILESS PPJXCESSES chap, i 
 
 should accompany the party, both to assist in 
 negotiations with Henry VI and Cardinal Beaufort, 
 and to avail himself of the opportunity of return- 
 ing to his native land, far away from the blasts 
 of the north, and to show cause to the Pope for 
 erecting St. Andrews into an archiepiscopal see, 
 instead of leaving Scotland under the primacy of 
 York. 
 
 Hawk and harp were all the properties the 
 princesses-errant took with them ; but Jean, as her 
 old nurse sometimes declared, loved Skywing better 
 than all the weans, and Eileen's small travelling- 
 harp was all that she owned of her father's — except 
 the spirit that loved it. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 DEPARTUEE 
 
 ' I bowed my pride, 
 A horse-boy in his train to ride. ' — Scott. 
 
 The Lady of Glenuskie, as she was commonly 
 caUed, was a near kinswoman of the Royal House, 
 Lilias Stewart, a grand-daughter of King Robert II, 
 and thus first cousin to the late King. Her brother, 
 Malcolm Stewart, had resigned to her the little 
 barony of Glenuskie upon his embracing the life 
 of a priest, and her becoming the wife of Sir 
 Patrick Drummond, the son of his former guardian. 
 Sir Patrick had served in France in the Scotch 
 troop who came to the assistance of the Dauphin, 
 until he was taken prisoner by his native monarch. 
 
44 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 James I, then present with the army of Henry V. 
 He had then spent two years at Windsor, in attend- 
 ance upon that prince, until both were set at liberty 
 by the treaty made by Cardinal Beaufort. In the 
 meantime, his betrothed, Lilias, being in danger at 
 home, had been bestowed in the household of the 
 Countess of Warwick, where she had been much 
 with an admirable and saintly foreign lady, Esclair- 
 monde de Luxembourg, who had taken refuge from 
 the dissensions of her own vexed country among 
 the charitable sisterhood of St. Katharine in the 
 Docks in London. 
 
 Sir Patrick and his lady had thus enjoyed far 
 more training in the general European civilisation 
 than usually fell to the lot of their countrymen ; 
 and they had moreover imbibed much of the spirit 
 of that admirable King, whose aims at improvement, 
 religious, moral, and political, were so piteously 
 cut short by his assassination. During the nine 
 
II DEPAETUEE 45 
 
 miserable years that had ensued it had not been 
 possible, even in conjunction with Bishop Kennedy, 
 to afford any efficient support or protection to the 
 young King and his mother, and it had been as much 
 as Sir Patrick could do to protect his own lands and 
 vassals, and do his best to bring up his children to 
 godly, honourable, and chivalrous ways ; but amid 
 all the evil around he had decided that it was well- 
 nigh impossible to train them to courage without 
 ruffianism, or to prevent them from being tainted by 
 the prevailing standard. Even among the clergy 
 and monastic orders the type was very low, in 
 spite of the endeavours of Bishop Kennedy, who 
 had not yet been able to found his university at 
 St. Andrews ; and it had been agreed between him 
 and Sir Patrick that young Malcolm Drummond, a 
 devout and scholarly lad of earnest aspiration, 
 should be trained at the Paris University, and 
 perhaps visit Padua and Bologna in preparation 
 
46 TWO PEXXILESS PEIXCESSES CHAP. 
 
 for that foundation, which, save for that cruel 
 Eastern's E'en, would have been commenced by 
 the uncle whose name he bore. 
 
 The daughter had likewise been promised in her 
 babyhood to the Sire de Terreforte, a knight of 
 Auvergne, who had come on a mission to the Scotch 
 Court in the golden days of the reign of James I, 
 and being an old companion-in-arms of Sir Patrick, 
 had desired to unite the families in the person of 
 his infant son Olivier and of Ann is Drummond. 
 
 Lady Drummond had ever since been preparing 
 her little daughter and her wardrobe. The whole 
 was in a good state of forwardness ; but it must be 
 confessed that she was somewhat taken aback when 
 she beheld two young ladies riding up the glen with 
 her husband, sons, and their escort ; and found, on 
 descending to welcome them, that they were neither 
 more nor less than the two eldest unmarried prin- 
 cesses of Scotland. 
 
II DEPARTURE 47 
 
 'And Dame Lilias/ proceeded her toight, 'you 
 must busk and boune you to be in the saddle 
 betimes the morn, and put Tweed between these 
 puir lasses and their foes — or shall I say their ower 
 well wishers ? ' 
 
 The ladies of Scotland lived to receive startling 
 intelligence, and Lady Drummond's kind heart was 
 moved by the two forlorn, weary-looking figures, 
 with traces of tears on their cheeks. She kissed 
 them respectfully, conducted them to the guest- 
 chamber, which was many advances beyond their 
 room at Dunbar in comfort, and presently left her own 
 two daughters, Annis and Lilias, and their nurse, to 
 
 take care of them, since they seemed to have neither 
 
 ft 
 
 mails nor attendants of their own, while she sought 
 out her husband, as he was being disarmed by his 
 sons, to understand what was to be done. 
 
 He told her briefly of the danger and perplexity 
 in w^hich the presence of the two poor young 
 
48 TWO PE^^NILESS PEIXCESSES chap. 
 
 princesses might involve themselves, their brother, 
 and the kingdom itself, by exciting the greed, 
 jealousy, and emulation of the untamed nobles 
 and Highland chiefs, who would try to gain 
 them, both as an excuse for exactions from the 
 King and out of jealousy of one another. To take 
 them out of reach was the only ready means of 
 preventing miscliief, and the Bishop of St. Andrews 
 had besought Sir Patrick to undertake the charge. 
 
 ' We are bound to do all we can for their father's 
 daughters,' Dame Lilias owned, 'alike as our King 
 and the best friend that ever we had, or my dear 
 brother Malcolm, Heaven rest them both 1 But have 
 they no servants, no plenishing ? ' 
 
 ' That must we provide,' said Sir Patrick. ' We 
 must be their servants. Dame. Our lasses must 
 lend them what is fitting, till we come where I can 
 make use of this, which my good Lord of St. 
 Andrews gave me.' 
 
II DEPARTUKE 49 
 
 ' What is it, Patie ? Not the red gold ? ' 
 
 ' Oh no ! I have heard of the like. Ye ken 
 Morini, as they call him, the Lombard goldsmith in 
 the Canongate ? Weel, for sums that the Bishop 
 will pay to Morini, sums owing, he says, by himself 
 to the Crown — though I shrewdly suspect 'tis the 
 other way, gude man ! — then the Lombard's fellows 
 in York, London, or Paris, or Bourges will, on seeing 
 this bit bond, supply us up to the tune of a hundred 
 crowns. Thou look'st mazed, Lily, but I have 
 known the like before. 'Tis no great sum, but 
 mayhap the maidens' English kin will do somewhat 
 for them before they win to their sister.' 
 
 ' I would not have them beholden to the Eng- 
 lish,' said Dame Lilias, not forgetting that she was 
 a Stewart. 
 
 Her husband perhaps scarcely understood the 
 change made in the whole aspect of the journey td 
 her. Not only had she to hurry her preparations 
 
 VOL. I E 
 
50 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 for the early start, but instead of travelling as the 
 mistress of the party, she and her daughter would, 
 in appearance at least, be the mere appendages of 
 the two princesses, wait upon them, give them the 
 foremost place, supply their present needs from what 
 was provided for themselves, and it was quite 
 possible have likewise to control girlish petulance 
 and inexperience in the strange lands where her 
 charges must appear at their very best, to do honour 
 to their birth and their country. 
 
 But the loyal woman made up her mind with- 
 out a word of complaint after the first shock, and 
 though a busy night was not the best preparation 
 for a day's journey, she never lay down ; nor indeed 
 did her namesake daughter, who was to be left at 
 a Priory on their way, there to decide whether she 
 had a vocation to be a nun. 
 
 So effectually did she bestir herself that by six 
 o'clock the next morning the various packages were 
 
II DEPARTURE 51 
 
 rolled up for bestowal on the sumpter-horses, and 
 the goods to be left at home locked up in chests, 
 and committed to the charge of the trusty seneschal 
 and his wife ; a meal, to be taken in haste, was 
 spread on the table in the hall, to be swallowed 
 while the little rough ponies were being laden. 
 Mass was to be heard at the first halting-place, the 
 Benedictine nunnery of Trefontana on Lammer- 
 muir, where Lilias Drummond was to be left, to be 
 passed on, when occasion served, to the Sisterhood 
 at Edinburgh. 
 
 The fresh morning breezes over the world of 
 heather brightened the cheeks and the spirits of 
 the two sisters ; the first wrench of parting was over 
 with them, and they found themselves treated with 
 much more observance than usual, though they did 
 not know that the horses they were riding had been 
 trained for the special use of the Lady of Glenuskie 
 and her daughter Annis upon the journey. 
 
52 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 They rode on gaily, Jean with her inseparable 
 falcon Skywing, Eleanor with her father's harp 
 bestowed behind her — she would trust it to no one 
 else. They were squired by their two cousins, 
 David and Malcolm, who, in spite of David's mur- 
 murs, felt the exhilaration of the future as much as 
 they did, as they coursed over the heather, David 
 with two great greyhounds with majestic heads 
 at his side, Finn and Finvola, as they were called. 
 
 The graver and sadder ones of the party, father, 
 mother, and the two young sisters, rode farther 
 back, the father issuing directions to the seneschal, 
 who accompanied them thus far, and the mother 
 watching over the two fair young girls, whose 
 hearts were heavy in the probability that they 
 would never meet again, for how should a Scottish 
 Benedictine nun and the wife of a French seigneur 
 ever come together ? nor would there be any pos- 
 sibility of correspondence to bridge over the gulf. 
 
II DEPARTUEE 53 
 
 The nunnery was strong, but not with the 
 strength of secular buildings, for, except when a 
 tempting heiress had taken refuge there, convents 
 were respected even by the rudest men. 
 
 Numerous unkempt and barely- clothed figures 
 were coming away from the gates, a pilgrim or 
 two with brown gown, broad hat, and scallop shell, 
 the morning's dole being just over ; but a few, some 
 on crutches, some with heads or limbs bound up, 
 were waiting for their turn of the sister-infirmarer's 
 care. The pennon of the Drummond had already 
 been recognised, and the gate-ward readily admitted 
 the party, since the house of Glenuskie were well 
 known as pious benefactors to the Church. » 
 
 They were just in time for a mass which a 
 pilgrim priest was about to say, and they were all 
 admitted to the small nave of the little chapel, 
 beyond which a screen shut off the choir of nuns. 
 After this the ladies were received into the refectory 
 
54 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 to break their fast, the men folk being served in 
 an outside building for the purpose. It was not 
 sumptuous fare, chiefly consisting of barley ban- 
 nocks and very salt and dry fish, with some thin 
 and sour ale ; and David's attention was a good deal 
 taken up by a man-at-arms who seemed to have 
 attached himself to the party, but whom he did not 
 know, and who held a little aloof from the rest — 
 keeping his visor down while eating and drinking, 
 in a somewhat suspicious manner, as though to 
 avoid observation. 
 
 Just as David had resolved to point this person 
 out to his father, Sir Patrick was summoned to 
 speak to the Lady Prioress. Therefore the youth 
 thought it incumbent upon him to deal with the 
 matter, and advancing towards the stranger, said, 
 ' Good fellow, thou art none of our following. How, 
 now ! ' for a pair of gray eyes looked up with recog- 
 nition in them, and a low voice whispered, ' Davie 
 
II DEPAETURE 55 
 
 Drummond, keep my secret till we be across the 
 Border.' 
 
 ' Geordie, what means this ? ' 
 
 ' I canna let her gang 1 I ken that she scorns me.' 
 
 ' That proud peat Jean ? ' 
 
 ' Whist ! whist ! She scorns me, and the King 
 scarce lent a lug to my father's gude offer, so that 
 he can scarce keep the peace with their pride and 
 upsettingness. But I love her, Davie, the mere sight 
 of her is sunshine, and wha kens but in the stour of 
 this journey I may have the chance of standing by 
 her and defending her, and showing what a leal 
 Scot's heart can do ? Or if not, if I may not win her, 
 I shall still be in sight of her blessed blue een ! ' 
 
 David whistled his perplexity. ' The Yerl,' said 
 he, ' doth he ken ? ' 
 
 ' I trow not ! He thinks me at Tantallon, watch- 
 ing for the raid the Mackays are threatening — little 
 guessing the bird would be flown.' 
 
56 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' How cam' ye to guess that same, which was, so 
 far as I know, only decided two days syne ? ' 
 
 ' Our pursuivant was to bear a letter to the King, 
 and I garred him let me bear him company as one 
 of his grooms, so that I might delight mine eyes 
 with the sight of her.' 
 
 David laughed. His time was not come, and 
 this love and admiration for his young cousin was 
 absurd in his eyes. ' For a young bit lassie,' he said ; 
 ' gin it had been a knight ! But what will your 
 father say to mine ? ' 
 
 ' I will write to him when I am well over the 
 Border,' said Geordie, ' and gin he kens that your 
 father had no hand in it he will deem no ill-will. 
 Nor could he harm you if he did.' 
 
 David did not feel entirely satisfied, on one side 
 of his mind as to his own loyalty to his father, or 
 Geordie's to ' the Yerl,' and yet there was something 
 diverting to the enterprising mind in the stolen 
 
II DEPARTURE 57 
 
 expedition ; and the fellow-feeling which results in 
 honour to contemporaries made him promise not 
 to betray the young man and to shield him from 
 notice as best he might. With Geordie's motive he 
 had no sympathy, having had too many childish 
 squabbles with his cousin for her to be in his eyes 
 a sublime Princess Joanna, but only a masterful 
 Jeanie. 
 
 Sir Patrick, absorbed in orders to his seneschal, 
 did not observe the addition to his party ; and as 
 David acted as his squire, and had been seen talking 
 to the young man, no further demur was made until 
 the time when the home party turned to ride back 
 to Glenuskie, and Sir Patrick made a roll-call of his 
 followers, picked men who could fairly be trusted 
 not to embroil the company by excesses or im- 
 prudences in England or France. 
 
 Besides himself, his wife, sons and daughters, 
 and the two princesses, the party consisted of Chris- 
 
58 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 tian, female attendant for the ladies, the wife of 
 Andrew of the Cleugh, an elderly, well -seasoned 
 man-at-arms, to whom the banner was entrusted ; 
 Dandie their son, a stalwart youth of two or 
 three -and -twenty, who, under his father, was in 
 charge of the horses ; and six lances besides. Sir 
 Patrick following the French fashion, which gave to 
 each lance two grooms, armed likewise, and a horse- 
 boy. For each of the family there was likewise a 
 spare palfrey, with a servant in charge, and one beast 
 of burthen, but these last were to be freshly hired 
 with their attendants at each stage. 
 
 Geordie, used to more tumultuous and irregular 
 gatherings, where any man with a good horse and 
 serviceable weapons was welcome to join the raid, 
 had not reckoned on such a review of the party as 
 was made by the old warrior accustomed to more 
 regular warfare, and who made each of liis eight 
 lances — namely, the two Andrew Drummonds, Jock 
 
II DEPARTURE 59 
 
 of the Glen, Jockie of Braeside, Willie and Norman 
 Armstrong, Wattie Wudspurs, and Tam Telfer — 
 answer to their names, and show up their three 
 followers. 
 
 ' And who is yon lad in bright steel ? ' Sir 
 Patrick asked. 
 
 ' Master Davie kens, sir,' responded old Andrew. 
 
 David, being called, explained that he was a 
 leal lad called Geordie, whom he had seen in 
 Edinburgh, and who wished to join them, go to 
 France, and see the world under Sir Patrick's 
 guidance, and that he would be at his own charges. 
 'And I'll be answerable for him, sir,' concluded 
 the lad. 
 
 ' Answer ! Ha ! ha ! What for, eh ? That he 
 is a long-legged lad like your ain self. What more ? 
 Come, call him up ! ' 
 
 The stranger had no choice save to obey, and 
 came up on a strong white mare, which old Andrew 
 
60 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 scanned, and muttered to his son, ' The Mearns breed 
 — did he come honestly by it ? ' 
 
 ' Up with your beaver, young man,' said Sir 
 Patrick peremptorily ; ' no man rides with me whose 
 face I have not seen.' 
 
 A face not handsome and thoroughly Scottish 
 was disclosed, with keen intelligence in the gray 
 eyes, and a certain air of offended dignity, yet self- 
 control, in the close-shut mouth. The cheeks were 
 sunburnt and freckled, a tawny down of young man- 
 hood was on the long upper lip, and the short-cut 
 hair was red ; but there was an intelligent and trust- 
 worthy expression in the countenance, and the tall 
 figure sat on horseback with the upright ease of one 
 well trained. 
 
 ' Soil ! ' said Sir Patrick, looking him over, ' how 
 ca' they you, lad ? ' 
 
 ' Geordie o' the Eed Peel,' he answered. 
 
 ' That's a by-name,' said the knight sternly ; ' I 
 
11 DEPARTURE 61 
 
 must have the full name of any man who rides 
 with me.' 
 
 ' George Douglas, then, if nothing short of that 
 will content you ! ' 
 
 ' Are ye sib to the Earl ? ' 
 
 ' Ay, sir, and have rid in his company.' 
 
 ' Whose word am I to take for that ? ' 
 
 'Mine, sir, a word that none has ever doubted,' 
 said the youth boldly. ' By that your son kens me.' 
 
 David here vouched for having seen the young 
 man in the Angus following, when he had accom- 
 panied his father in the last riding of the Scots 
 Parliament at Edinburgh ; and this so far satisfied 
 Sir Patrick that he consented to receive the stranger 
 into his company, but only on condition of an oath 
 of absolute obedience so long as he remained in the 
 troop. 
 
 David could see that this had not been reckoned 
 on by the high-spirited Master of Angus ; and indeed 
 
62 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 obedience, save to the head of the name, was so 
 little a Scottish virtue that Sir Patrick was by no 
 means unprepared for reluctance. 
 
 ' I give thee thy choice, laddie,' he said, not un- 
 kindly ; ' best make up your mind while thou art 
 still in thine own country, and can win back home. 
 In England and France I can have no stragglers 
 nor loons like to help themselves, nor give cause for 
 a fray to bring shame on the haill troop in lands 
 that are none too friendly. A raw carle like thy- 
 self, or even these lads of mine, might give offence 
 unwittingly, and then I'd have to give thee up to 
 the laws, or to stand by thee to the peril of all, and 
 of the ladies themselves. So there's nothing for it 
 but strict keeping to orders of myself and Andrew 
 Drummond of the Cleugh, who kens as well as I do 
 what sorts to be done in these strange lands. Wilt 
 thou so bind thyself, or shall we part while yet 
 there is time ? ' 
 
II DEPARTURE 63 
 
 ' Sir, I will/ said the young man, ' I will plight 
 my word to obey you, and faithfully, so long as I 
 ride under your banner in foreign parts — provided 
 such oath be not binding within this realm of Scot- 
 land, nor against my lealty to the head of my name.' 
 
 ' ]^or do I ask it of thee,' returned Sir Patrick 
 heartily, but regarding him more attentively ; ' these 
 are the scruples of a true man. Hast thou any 
 following ? ' 
 
 ' Only a boy to lead my horse to grass,' replied 
 George, giving a peculiar whistle, which brought 
 to his side a shock -headed, barefooted lad, in a 
 shepherd's tartan and little else, but with limbs as 
 active as a wild deer, and an eye twinkling and 
 alert. 
 
 ' He shall be put in better trim ere the English 
 pock-puddings see him,' said Douglas, looking at 
 him, perhaps for the first time, as something unsuited 
 to that orderly company. 
 
64 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 'That is thine own affair,' said Sir Patrick. 
 ' Mine is that he should comport himself as becomes 
 one of my troop. What's his name ? ' 
 
 'Eingan Eaefoot/ replied Geordie. 
 
 Sir Patrick began to put the oath of obedience 
 to him, but the boy cried out — 
 
 ' I'll ne'er swear to any save my lawful lord, the 
 Yerl of Angus, and my lord the Master.' 
 
 * Hist, Eingan,' interposed Geordie. ' Sir, I will 
 answer for his faith to me, and so long as he is leal 
 to me he will be the same to thee ; but I doubt 
 whether it be expedient to compel him.' 
 
 So did Sir Patrick, and he said — 
 
 ' Then be it so, I trust to his faith to thee. 
 Only remembering that if he plunder or brawl, 
 I may have to leave him hanging on the next 
 bush.' 
 
 'And if he doth, the Eed Douglas will ken the 
 reason why,' quoth Eingan, with head aloft. 
 
II • DEPARTUEE 65 
 
 It was tliougiit well to turn a deaf 'ear to this 
 observation. Indeed, Geordie's effort was to elude 
 observation, and to keep bis uncouth follower from 
 attracting it. Eingan was not singular in running 
 along with bare feet. Other ' bonnie boys/ as the 
 ballad has it, trotted along by the side of the horses to 
 which they were attached in the like fashion, though 
 they had hose and shoon slung over their shoulders, 
 to be donned on entering the good town of Berwick- 
 upon-Tweed. 
 
 Not without sounding of bugle and sending out 
 a pursuivant to examine into the intentions and 
 authorisation of the party, were they admitted, Jean 
 and Eleanor riding first, with the pursuivant j)i'0- 
 claiming — ' Place, place for the high and mighty 
 princesses of Scotland.' 
 
 It was an inconvenient ceremony for poor Sir 
 Patrick, who had to hand over to the pursuivant, in 
 the name of the princesses, a ring from his own 
 
 VOL. I F 
 
66 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES CHAP. 
 
 finger. Largesse he could not attempt, but the 
 proud spirit of himself and his train could not but 
 be chafed at the expectant faces of the crowd, and 
 the intuitive certainty that ' Beggarly Scotch ' was in 
 every disappointed mind. 
 
 And this was but a foretaste of what the two 
 royal maidens' presence would probably entail 
 throughout the journey. His wife added to this 
 care uneasiness as to the deportment of her three 
 maidens. Of Annis she had not much fear, but she 
 suspected Jean and Eleanor of being as wild and 
 untamed as hares, and she much doubted whether 
 any counsels might not offend their dignity, and 
 drive them into some strange behaviour that the 
 good people of Berwick would never forget. 
 
 They rode in, however, very upright and stately, 
 with an air of taking possession of the place on their 
 brother's behalf ; and Jean bowed with a certain 
 haughty grace to the deputy-warden who came out 
 
II DEPAETURE 67 
 
 to receive tliem, Eleanor keeping her eye upon Jean 
 and imitating lier in everything. For Eleanor, 
 though sometimes the most eager, and most apt to 
 commit herself by hasty words and speeches, seemed 
 now to be daunted by the strangeness of all around, 
 and to commit herself to the leading of her sister, 
 though so little her junior. 
 
 She was very silent all through the supper 
 spread for them in the hall of the castle, while Jean 
 exchanged conversation with their host upon Iceland 
 hawks and wolf and deer hounds, as if she had been 
 a young lady keeping a splendid court all her life, 
 instead of a poverty-stricken prisoner in castle after 
 castle. 
 
 ' Jeanie,' whispered Eleanor, as they lay down 
 on their bed together, ' didst mark the tall laddie 
 that was about to seat himself at the high table and 
 frowned when the steward motioned him down ? ' 
 
 'What's that to me? An ill -nurtured carle,' 
 
68 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 said Jean ; ' I marvel Sir Patie brooks him in his 
 meinie ! ' 
 
 Eleanor was a little in awe of Jeanie in this 
 mood, and said no more, but Annis, who slept on a 
 pallet at their feet, heard all, and guessed more as 
 to the strange young squire. 
 
 Fain would she and Eleanor have discussed the 
 situation, but Jean's blue eyes glanced heedfully 
 and defiantly at them, and, moreover, the young 
 gentleman in question, after that one error, effaced 
 himself, and was forgotten for the time in the 
 novelty of the scenes around. 
 
 The sub - warden of Berwick, mindful of his 
 charge to obviate all occasions of strife, insisted on 
 sending a knight and half-a-dozen men to escort 
 the Scottish travellers as far as Durham. David 
 Drummond and the young ladies murmured to one 
 another their disgust that the English pock-pudding 
 should not suppose Scots able to keep their heads 
 
II DEPARTURE 69 
 
 witli their own hands ; but, as Jean sagely observed, 
 ' 'No doubt he would not wish them to have occasion 
 to hurt any of the English, nor Jamie to have to 
 call them to account.' 
 
 This same old knight consorted with Sir Patrick, 
 Dame Lilias, and Father Eomuald, and kept a sharp 
 eye on the little party, allowing no straggling on 
 any pretence, and as Sir Patrick enforced the 
 command, all were obliged to obey, in spite of 
 chafing ; and the scowls of the English Borderers, 
 with the scant courtesy vouchsafed by these sturdy 
 spirits, proved the wisdom of the precaution. 
 
 At Durham they were hospitably entertained in 
 the absence of the Bishop. The splendour of the 
 cathedral and its adjuncts much impressed Lady 
 Drummond, as it had done a score of years previ- 
 ously ; but, though Malcolm ventured to share her 
 admiration, Jean was far above allowing that she 
 could be astonished at anything in England. In 
 
70 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 fact, she regarded the stately towers of St. Cuthbert 
 as so much stolen family property which ' Jamie ' 
 would one day regain ; and all the other young 
 people followed suit. David even made all the 
 observations his own sense of honour and the eyes 
 of his hosts would permit, with a view to a future 
 surprise. The escort of Sir Patrick was asked to 
 York by a Canon who had to journey thither, and 
 was anxious for protection from the outlaws — who 
 had begun to renew the doings of Eobin Hood under 
 the laxer rule of the young Henry YI, though 
 things were expected to be better since the young 
 Duke of York had returned from France. 
 
 Perhaps this arrangement was again a precau- 
 tion for the preservation of peace, and at York 
 there was a splendid entertainment by Cardinal 
 Kemp ; but all the ' subtleties ' and wonders — stags' 
 heads in their horns, peacocks in their pride, jellies 
 with whole romances depicted in them, could not 
 
11 DEPARTURE 71 
 
 reconcile the young Scots to the presumption of the 
 Archbishop reckoning Scotland into his province. 
 Durham was at once too monastic and too military 
 to have afforded much opportunity for recruiting 
 the princesses' wardrobe ; but York was the resort 
 of the merchants of Flanders, and Christie was sent 
 in quest of them and their wares, for truly the 
 black serge kirtles and shepherd's tartan screens 
 that had made the journey from Dunbar were in no 
 condition to do honour to royal damsels. 
 
 Jean was in raptures with the graceful veils 
 depending from the horned headgear, worn, she 
 was told, by the Duchess of Burgundy ; but Eleanor 
 wept at the idea of obscuring the snood of a Scottish 
 maiden, and would not hear of resigning it. 
 
 ' I feel as Eileen no more,' she said, ' but a mere 
 Elanders popinjay. It has changed my ain self 
 upon me, as well as the country.' 
 
 ' Thou shouldst have been born in a hovel ! ' 
 
72 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 returned Jean, raising her proud little head. 'I 
 feel more than ever what I am — a true princess ! ' 
 
 And she looked it, with beauty enhanced by the 
 rich attire which only made Eleanor embarrassed 
 and uncomfortable. 
 
 Malcolm, the more scrupulous of the Drummond 
 brothers, begged of George Douglas, when at 
 Durham, to write to his father and declare himseK 
 to Sir Patrick, but the youth would do neither. 
 He did not think himself sufficiently out of reach, 
 and, besides, the very sight of a pen was abhorrent 
 to him. There was something pleasing to him in 
 the liberty of a kind of volunteer attached to the 
 expedition, and he would not give it up. Nor was 
 he without some wild idea of winning Jean's notice 
 by some gallant exploit on her behalf before she knew 
 him for the object of her prejudice, the Master of 
 Angus. As to Sir Patrick, he was far too busy trying 
 to compose Border quarrels and gleaning information 
 
II 
 
 DEPAETURE 73 
 
 about the Gloucester and Beaufort parties at Court, to 
 have any attention to spare for the young man riding 
 in his suite with the barefooted lad ever at his stirrup. 
 Geordie never attempted to secure better accom- 
 modation than the other lances; he groomed his 
 steed himself, with a little assistance from Eingan, 
 and slept in the straw of its bed, with the lad curled 
 up at his feet ; the only difference observable between 
 him and the rest being that he always groomed 
 himself every night and morning as carefully as the 
 horse, a ceremony they thought entirely needless. 
 
CHAPTEE III 
 
 FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 
 
 ' Ours is the sky 
 Where at what fowl we please our hawk shall fly. ' — T. Randolph. 
 
 Beyond York that species of convoy; which ranged 
 between protection and supervision, entirely ceased ; 
 the Scottish party moved on their own way, through 
 lanes and fields at times, but oftener through heath, 
 rock, and moor, for England was not yet thickly 
 inhabited, though there was no lack of hostels or of 
 convents to receive them on this the great road to 
 the IN'orth, and to its many shrines for pilgrimage. 
 
 Perhaps Sir Patrick relaxed a little of his vigil- 
 ance, since the good behaviour of his troop had won 
 his confidence, and they were less likely to be 
 
CHAP. Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 75 
 
 regarded as invaders than by the inhabitants of the 
 district nearer their own frontier. 
 
 Hawking and conrsing within bounds had been 
 permitted by both the Knight of Berwick and the 
 Canon of Durham on the wide northern moors ; but 
 Sir Patrick, on starting in the morning of the day 
 when they were entering E"orthamptonshire, had 
 given a caution that sport was not free in the more 
 frequented parts of England, and that hound must 
 not be loosed nor hawk flown without special per- 
 mission from the lord of the manor. 
 
 He was, however, riding in the rear of the rest, 
 up a narrow lane leading uphill, anxiously discussing 
 with Father Eomuald the expediency of seeking 
 hospitality from any of the great lords whose castles 
 might be within reach before he had full information 
 of the present state of factions at the Court, when 
 suddenly his son Malcolm came riding back, pushing 
 up hastily. 
 
76 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Sir ! father 1 ' he cried, ' there's wild wark 
 ahead, there's a flight of unco big birds on before, 
 and Lady Jean's hawk is awa' after them, and 
 Jeanie's awa' after the hawk, and Geordie Eed Peel 
 is awa' after Jean, and Davie's awa' after Geordie ; 
 and there's the blast of an English bugle, and my 
 mither sent me for you to redd the fray ! ' 
 
 ' Time, indeed ! ' said Sir Patrick with a sigh, 
 and, setting spurs to his horse, he soon was beyond 
 the end of the lane, on an open heath, where some 
 of his troop were drawn up round his banner, almost 
 forcibly kept back by Dame Lilias and the elder 
 Andrew. He could not stop for explanation from 
 them, indeed his wife only waved him forward 
 towards a confused group some hundred yards 
 farther off, where he could see a number of his own 
 men, and, too plainly, long bows and coats of 
 Lincoln green, and he only hoped, as he galloped 
 onward, that they belonged to outlaws and not to 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK < 7 
 
 rangers. Too soon lie saw that his hope was vain ; 
 there were ten or twelve stout archers with the 
 white rosette of York in their bonnets, the falcon 
 and fetterlock on their sleeves, and the Plantagenet 
 quarterings on their breasts. In the midst was a 
 dead bustard, also an Englishman sitting up, with 
 his head bleeding; Jean was on foot, with her 
 dagger-knife in one hand, and holding fast to her 
 breast her beloved hawk, whose jesses were, how- 
 ever, grasped by one of the foresters. Geordie of 
 the Eed Peel stood with his sword at his feet, 
 glaring angrily round, while Sir Patrick, pausing, 
 could hear his son David's voice in loud tones — 
 
 ' I tell you this lady is a royal princess ! Yes, 
 she is ' — as there was a kind of scoff — ' and we are 
 bound on a mission to your King from the King of 
 Scots, and woe to him that touches a feather of 
 ours.' 
 
 ' That may be/ said the one who seemed chief 
 
78 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 among the English, ' but that gives no licence to fly 
 at the Duke's game, nor slay his foresters for doing 
 their duty. If we let the lady go, hawk and man 
 must have their necks wrung, after forest laws.' 
 
 ' And I tell thee,' cried Davie, ' that this is a 
 noble gentleman of Scotland, and that we will fight 
 for him to the death.' 
 
 'Let it alone, Davie,' said George. ''No scathe 
 shall come to the lady through me.' 
 
 ' Save him, Davie ! save Skywing ! ' screamed 
 Jean. 
 
 ' To the rescue — a Drummond,' shouted David ; 
 but his father pushed his horse forward, just as the 
 men in green were in the act of stringing, all at the 
 same moment, their bows, as tall as themselves. 
 They were not so many but that his escort might 
 have overpowered them, but only with heavy loss, 
 and the fact of such a fight would have been most 
 disastrous. 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 79 
 
 ' What means this, sirs ? ' he exclaimed, in a tone 
 of authority, waving back his own men ; and his 
 dignified air, as well as the banner with which Andrew 
 followed him, evidently took effect on the foresters, 
 who perhaps had not believed the young men. 
 
 ' Sir Patie, my hawk ! ' entreated Jean. ' She 
 did but pounce on yon unco ugsome bird, and these 
 bloodthirsty grasping loons would have wrung her 
 neck' 
 
 ' She took her knife to me,' growled the wounded 
 man, who had risen to his feet, and showed bleeding 
 fingers. 
 
 ' Ay, for meddling with a royal falcon,' broke in 
 Jean. "Tis thou, false loon, whose craig should be 
 raxed.' 
 
 Happily this was an unknown tongue to the 
 foresters, and Sir Patrick gravely silenced her. 
 
 * Whist, lady, brawls consort not with your rank. 
 Gang back doucely to my leddy.' 
 
80 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' But Sky wing ! he has her jesses/ said the girl, 
 but in a lower tone, as though rebuked. 
 
 ' Sir ranger/ said Sir Patrick courteously, ' I 
 trust you will let the young demoiselle have her 
 hawk. It was loosed in ignorance and heedlessness, 
 no doubt, but I trow it is the rule in England, as 
 elsewhere, that ladies of the blood royal are not 
 bound by forest laws.' 
 
 ' Sir, if we had known,' said the ranger, who was 
 evidently of gentle blood, as he took his foot off the 
 jesses, and Jean now allowed David to remount her. 
 ' But my Lord Duke is very heedful of his bustards, 
 and when Eoger there went to seize the bird, my 
 young lady was over-ready with her knife.' 
 
 ' "Who would not be for thee, my bird?' murmured 
 Jean. 
 
 ' And yonder big fellow came plunging down and 
 up with his sword — so as he was nigh on being the 
 death of poor Eoger again for doing his duty. If 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 81 
 
 such be the ways of you Scots, sir, they be not 
 English ways under my Lord Duke, that is to say, 
 and if I let the lady and her hawk go, forest law 
 must have its due on the young man there — I 
 must have him up to Fotheringay to abide the 
 Duke's pleasure.' 
 
 ' Heed me not, Sir Patrick ! ' exclaimed Geordie. 
 'I would not have those of your meinie brought 
 into jeopardy for my cause.' 
 
 David was plucking his father's mantle to suggest 
 who George was, which in fact Sir Patrick might 
 suspect enough to be conscious of the full awkward- 
 ness of the position, and to abandon the youth was 
 impossible. Though it was not likely that the 
 Duke of York would hang him if aware of his rank, 
 he might be detained as a hostage or put to heavy 
 ransom, or he might never be brought to the Duke's 
 presence at all, but be put to death by some truculent 
 
 underling, incredulous of a Scotsman's tale, if indeed 
 VOL. I G 
 
82 TWO PEXXILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 he were not too proud to tell it. Anyway, Sir 
 Patrick felt bound to stand by him. 
 
 ' Good sir/ said he to the forester, ' will it content 
 thee if we all go with thee to thy Duke ? The two 
 Scottish princesses are of his kin, and near of blood 
 to King Henry, whom they are about to visit at 
 Windsor. I am on a mission thither on affairs of 
 state, but I shall be willing to make my excuses to 
 him for any misdemeanour committed on his lands 
 by my followers.' 
 
 The forester was consentino- when Georgje 
 cried — 
 
 ' I'll have no hindrance to your journey on my 
 account, Sir Patrick. Let me answer for myself.' 
 
 ' Foolish laddie,' said the knight. ' Father Eomuald 
 and I were only now conferring as to pajdng the 
 Duke a visit on our way. Sir forester, we shall be 
 beholden to you for guiding us.' 
 
 He further inquired into the ranger's hurts, and 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTEELOCK 83 
 
 salved tliem with a piece of gold, while DS,vid thought 
 proper to observe to George — 
 
 ' So much for thy devoir to thy princess ! It 
 was for Skywing's craig she cared, never thine.' 
 
 George turned a deaf ear to the insinuation. He 
 was allowed free hands and his own horse, which 
 was perhaps well for the Englishmen, for Eingan 
 Eaefoot, running by his stirrup, showed him a long 
 knife, and said with a grin — 
 
 ' Eeady for the first who daurs to lay hands on 
 the Master ! Gin I could have come up in time, 
 the loon had never risen from the ground.' 
 
 George endeavoured in vain to represent how 
 much worse this would have made their condition. 
 
 Sir Patrick, joining the ladies, informed them of 
 the necessity of turning aside to Fotheringay, which 
 he had done not very willingly, being ignorant of 
 the character of the Duke of York, except as one of 
 the war party against France and Scotland, whereas 
 
84 TWO PENNILESS PEIXCESSES chap. 
 
 the Beauforts were for peace. As a vigorous 
 governor of E"ormandy, he had not commended him- 
 self to one whose sympathies were French. Lady 
 Drummond, however, remembered that his wife, 
 Cicely Nevil, the Eose of Eaby, was younger sister 
 to that Ealf Nevil who had married the friend of 
 her youth, Alice Montagu, now Countess of Sahsbury 
 in her own right. 
 
 Sir Patrick did not let Jean escape a rebuke. 
 
 ' So, lady, you see what perils to brave men you 
 maids can cause by a little heedlessness.' 
 
 ' I never asked Geordie to x^'Li-t his finger in/ 
 returned Jean saucily. 'I could have brought off 
 Sky wing for myself without such a clamjamfrie after 
 me.' 
 
 But Eleanor and Annis agreed that it was as 
 good as a ballad, and ought to be sung in one, only 
 Jean would have to figure as the ' dour lassie.' For 
 she continued to aver, by turns, that Geordie need 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 85 
 
 never have meddled, and that of course it was his 
 bounden duty to stand by his King's sister, and that 
 she owed him no thanks. If he were hanged for it, 
 he had run his craig into the noose. 
 
 So she tossed her proud head, and toyed with 
 her falcon, as all rode on their way to Fotheringay, 
 with Geordie in the midst of the rangers. 
 
 It was so many years since there had been serious 
 war in England, that the castles of the interior were 
 far less of fortresses than of magnificent abodes for 
 the baronage, who had just then attained their fullest 
 splendour. It may be observed that the Wars of 
 the Eoses were for the most part fought out in 
 battles, not by sieges. Thus Fotheringay had spread 
 out into a huge pile, which crowned the hill above, 
 with a strong inner court and lofty donjon tower 
 indeed, and with mighty walls, but with buildings 
 for retainers all round, reaching down to the beautiful 
 newly -built octagon -towered church; and with a 
 
86 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 great park stretching for miles, for all kinds of 
 sport. 
 
 ' All this enclosed ! Yet they make sic a wark 
 about their bustards, as they ca' them/ muttered Jean. 
 
 The forester had sent a messenger forward to 
 inform the Duke of York of his capture. The con- 
 sequence was that the cavalcade had no sooner 
 crossed the first drawbridge under the great gateway 
 of the castle, where the banner of Plantagenet was 
 displayed, than before it were seen a goodly company, 
 in the glittering and gorgeous robes of the fifteenth 
 century. 
 
 There was no doubt of welcome. Foremost was 
 a graceful, slenderly-made gentleman about thirty 
 years old, in rich azure and gold, who doffed his cap 
 of maintenance, turned up with fur, and with long 
 ends, and, bowing low, declared himself delighted 
 that the princesses of Scotland, his good cousins, 
 should honour his poor dwelling. 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 87 
 
 He gave his hand to assist Jean to alight, and 
 an equally gorgeous but much younger gentleman 
 in the same manner waited on Eleanor. A tall, 
 grizzled, sunburnt figure received Lady Drummond 
 with recognition on both sides, and the words, ' My 
 wife is fain to see you, my honoured lady : is this 
 your daughter ? ' with a sign to a tall youth, who 
 took Annis from her horse. Dame Lilias heard 
 with joy that the Countess of Salisbury was actually 
 in the castle, and in a few moments more she was 
 in the great hall, in the arms of the sweet Countess 
 Alice of her youth, who, middle-aged as she was, 
 with all her youthful impulsiveness had not waited 
 for the grand and formal greeting bestowed on the 
 princesses by her stately young sister-in-law, the 
 Duchess of York. 
 
 There seemed to be a perfect crowd of richly- 
 dressed nobles, ladies, children ; and though the 
 Lady Joanna held her head up in full state, and 
 
88 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 kept her eye on her sister to make her do the same, 
 their bewilderment was great ; and when they had 
 been conducted to a splendid chamber, within that 
 allotted to the Drummond ladies, tapestry-hung, and 
 with silver toilette apparatus, to prepare for supper, 
 Jean dropped upon a high-backed chair, and insisted 
 that Dame Lilias should explain to her exactly who 
 each one was. 
 
 'That slight, dark- eyed carle who took me off 
 my horse was the Duke of York, of course,' said she. 
 ' My certie, a bonnie Scot would make short work 
 of him, bones and all ! And it would scarce be 
 worth while to give a clout to the sickly lad that 
 took Eileen down.' 
 
 ' Hush, Jean,' said Eleanor ; ' some one called him 
 King ! Was he King Harry himself ? ' 
 
 ' Oh no,' said Dame Lilias, smiling ; ' only King 
 Harry of the Isle of Wight — a bit place about the 
 bigness of Arran ; but it pleased the English King 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 89 
 
 to crown him and give him a ring, and bestow on him 
 the realm in a kind of sport. He is, in sooth, Harry 
 Beaiichamp, Earl of Warwick, and was bred up as 
 the King's chief comrade and playfellow.' 
 
 ' And what brinojs him here ? ' 
 
 ' So far as I can yet understand, the family and 
 Idn have fathered for the marriao'e of his sister, the 
 Lady Anne — the red-cheeked maiden in the rose- 
 coloured kirtle — to the young Sir Eichard Nevil, 
 the same who gave his hand to thee, Annis — the son 
 of my Lord of Salisbury.' 
 
 ' That was the old knight who led thee in, 
 mother,' said Annis. ' Did you say he was brother to 
 the Duchess?' 
 
 ' Even so. There were fifteen or twenty N'evils of 
 Eaby — he was one of the eldest, she one of the young- 
 est. Their mother was a Beaufort, aunt to yours.' 
 
 ' Oh, I shall never unravel them ! ' exclaimed 
 Eleanor, spreading out her hands in bewilderment. 
 
90 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 Lady Driimmoncl laughed, having come to the 
 time of life when ladies enjoy genealogies. 
 
 ' It will be enough/ she said, ' to remember 
 that almost all are, like yourselves, gTandchildren 
 or great - grandchildren to King Edward of 
 Windsor.' 
 
 Jean, however, wanted to know which were 
 nearest to herself, and which were noblest. The 
 first question Lady Drummond said she could hardly 
 answer ; perhaps the Earl of Salisbury and the 
 Duchess, but the Duke was certainly noblest by 
 birth, having a double descent from King Edward, 
 and in the male line. 
 
 ' Was not his father put to death by this King's 
 father ? ' asked Eleanor. 
 
 ' Ay, the Earl of Cambridge, for a foul plot. I 
 have heard my Lord of Salisbury speak of it ; but 
 this young man was of tender years, and King Harry 
 of Monmouth did not bear malice, but let him succeed 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 91 
 
 to the dukedom when his uncle was killed in the 
 Battle of Ao'incourt.' 
 
 ' They have not spirit here to keep up a feud/ 
 said Jean. 
 
 'My good brother — ay, and your father, Jeanie 
 — were wont to say they were too Christian to hand 
 on a feud,' observed Dame Lilias, at which Jean 
 tossed her head, and said — 
 
 ' That may suit such a carpet-knight as yonder 
 Duke. He is not so tall as Eileen there, nor as his 
 own Duchess.' 
 
 ' I do not like the Duchess,' said Annis ; ' she 
 looks as if she scorned the very ground she walks on.' 
 
 ' She is wondrous bonnie, though,' said Eleanor ; 
 ' and so was the bairnie by her side.' 
 
 In some degree Jean changed her opinion of the 
 Duke, in consequence, perhaps, of the very marked 
 attention that he showed her when the supper was 
 spread. She had never been so made to feel what 
 
92 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 it was to be at once a king's daughter and a beauty ; 
 and at the most magnificent banquet she had ever 
 known. 
 
 Durham had afforded a great advance on Scottish 
 festivities ; but in the absence of its Prince Bishop, 
 another Nevil, it had lacked much of what was to 
 be found at Fotheringay in the full blossoming of 
 the splendours of the princely nobility of England, 
 just ere the decimation that they were to perpetrate 
 on one another. 
 
 The hall itself was vast, and newly finished in 
 the rich culmination of Gothic work, with a fan 
 tracery-vaulted roof, a triumph of architecture, each 
 stalactite glowing with a shield or a badge of England, 
 France, Mortimer, and IsTevil — lion or lily, falcon 
 and fetterlock, white rose and dun cow, all and 
 many others — likewise shining in the stained glass 
 of the oTeat windows. 
 
 The hidi table was loaded with crold and silver 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTEKLOCK 93 
 
 plate, and Venice glasses even more precious ; there 
 were carpets under the feet of the nobler guests, and 
 even the second and third tables were spread with 
 more richness and refinement than ever the sisters 
 of James II had known in their native land. In a 
 gallery above, the Duke's musicians and the chor- 
 isters of his chapel were ready to enliven the meal ; 
 and as the chief guest, the Lady Joanna of Scotland 
 was handed to her place by the Duke of York, who, 
 as she now perceived, though small in stature, was 
 eminently handsome and graceful, and conversed 
 with her, not as a mere child, but as a fair lady of 
 full years. 
 
 Eleanor, who sat on his other hand beside the 
 Earl of SaKsbury, was rather provoked with her 
 sister for never asking after the fate of her cham- 
 pion ; but was reassured by seeing his red head 
 towering among the numerous squires and other 
 retainers of the second rank. It certainly was not 
 
94 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES ' chap. 
 
 his proper place, but it was plain that he was not 
 in disgrace ; and in fact the whole affair had been 
 treated as a mere pardonable blunder of the rangers. 
 The superior one was sitting next to the young 
 Scot, making good cheer with him. Grand as the 
 whole seemed to the travellers, it was not an 
 exceptional banquet; indeed, the Duchess apolo- 
 gised for its simplicity, since she had been taken at 
 unawares, evidently considering it as the ordinary 
 family meal. There was ample provision, served up 
 in by no means an unrefined manner, even to the 
 multitudinous servants and retainers of the various 
 trains ; and beyond, on the steps and in the court, 
 were a swarm of pilgrims, friars, poor, and beggars 
 of all kinds, waiting for the fragments. 
 
 It was a wet evening, and when the tables were 
 drawn the guests devoted themselves to various 
 amusements. Lord SaHsbury challenged Sir Patrick 
 to a game at chess. Lady Salisbury and Dame Lilias 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTEELOCK 95 
 
 wished for nothing better than to converse over old 
 times at Middleham Castle ; hut the younger people 
 began with dancing, the Duke, who was only thirty 
 years old, leading out the elder Scottish princess, 
 and the young King of the Isle of Wight the stately 
 and beautiful Duchess Cicely. Eleanor, who knew 
 she did not excel in anything that required grace, 
 and was, besides, a good deal fatigued, would fain 
 have excused herself when paired with the young 
 Eichard Nevil ; but there was a masterful look about 
 him that somewhat daunted her, and she obeyed his 
 summons, though without acquitting herself with 
 anything approaching to the dexterity of her sister, 
 who, with quite as little practice as herself, danced 
 well — by quickness of eye and foot, and that natural 
 elegance of movement which belongs to symmetry. 
 
 The dance was a ^\Teathing in and out of the 
 couples, including all of rank to dance together, and 
 growing more and more animated, till excitement 
 
96 TWO PEXXILESS PPJ^'CESSES chap. 
 
 took the place of weariness ; and Eleanor's pale 
 clieeks were flushed, her eyes glowing, when the 
 Duchess's sii^nal closed the dance. 
 
 Music was then called for, and several of the 
 princely company sang to the lute ; Jean, pleased 
 to show there was somethhig in which her sister 
 excelled, and gratified at some recollections that 
 floated up of her father's skill in minstrelsy, insisted 
 on sending for Eleanor's harp. 
 
 ' Oh, Jean, not now ; I canna,' murmured Eleanor, 
 who had been sitting with fixed eyes, as though in 
 a dream. 
 
 But the Duke and other nobles came and 
 pressed her, and Jean whispered to her not to show 
 herself a fule body, and disgrace herself before the 
 English, setting the harp before her and attending 
 to the strings. Eleanor's fingers then played over 
 them in a dreamy, fitful way, that made the old 
 Earl raise his head and say — 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 97 
 
 ' That twang carries me back to King Harry's 
 tent, and the good old time when an Englishman's 
 sword was respected.' 
 
 ' 'Tis the very harp/ said Sir Patrick ; ' ay, and 
 the very tune ' 
 
 ' Come, Eileen, begin. What gars thee loiter in 
 that doited way ? ' insisted Jean. ' Come, " Up 
 atween." ' 
 
 And, led by her sister in spite of herself, almost, 
 as it were, without volition, Eleanor's sweet pathetic 
 
 voice sang- 
 
 ' Up atween yon twa liill-sides, lass, 
 
 "V\Tiere I and my true love wont to be, 
 A' the warld shall never ken, lass, 
 What my true love said to me. 
 
 ' Owre muckle bUnking blindeth the ee, lass, 
 Owre muckle thinking changeth the mind, 
 Sair is the life I've led for thee, lass, 
 Farewell warld, for it's a' at an end.' 
 
 Her voice had been giving way through the last 
 
 verse, and in the final line, with a helpless wail of 
 VOL. I H 
 
98 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 the harp, she hid her face, and sank back with a 
 strange choked agony. 
 
 ' Why, Eileen ! Eileen, how now ? ' cried Jean. 
 ' Cousin Lilias, come ! ' 
 
 Lady Drummond was already at her side, and 
 the Duchess and Lady Salisbury proffering essences 
 and cordials, the gentlemen offering support ; but in 
 a moment or two Eleanor recovered enough to cling 
 to Lady Drummond, muttering — 
 
 ' Oh, take me awa', take me awa' 1 ' 
 
 And hushing the scolding which Jean was com- 
 mencing by way of bracing, and rejecting all the 
 kind offers of service, Dame Lilias led the girl away, 
 leaving Jean to make excuses and explanations 
 about her sister being but ' silly ' since they had lost 
 their mother, and the tune minding her of home and 
 of her father. 
 
 When, with only Annis following, the chambers 
 had been reached, Eleanor let herself sink on a 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 99 
 
 cushion, hiding her face against her friend, and 
 sobbing hysterically — 
 
 ' Oh, take me awa', take me awa' ! It's all 
 blood and horror ! ' 
 
 ' My bairnie, my dearie ! You are over- weary — 
 'tis but a dreamy fancy. Look up ! All is safe ; 
 none can harm you here.' 
 
 With soothings, and with some of the wine on 
 the table, Lady Drummond succeeded in calming 
 the girl, and, with Annis's assistance, she undressed 
 her and placed her in the bed. 
 
 ' Oh, do not gang ! Leave me not,' she entreated. 
 And as the lady sat by her, holding her hand, she 
 spoke, ' It was all dim before me as the music 
 played, and ' 
 
 ' Thou wast sair forefaughten, dearie.' 
 
 Eleanor went on — 
 
 ' And then as I touched mine harp, all, all 
 seemed to swim in a mist of blood and horror. 
 
100 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 There was the old Earl and the young bridegroom, 
 and many and many more of them, with gaping 
 wounds and deathly faces — all but the young King 
 of the Isle of Wight and his shroud, his shroud. 
 Cousin Lily, it was up to his breast ; and the ladies' 
 faces that were so blithe, they were all weeping, 
 ghastly, and writhen ; and they were whirling round 
 a great sea of blood right in the middle of the hall, 
 and I could — I could bear it no longer.' 
 
 Lady Drummond controlled herself, and for the 
 sake both of the sobbing princess and of her own 
 shuddering daughter said that this terrible vision 
 came of the fatigue of the day, and the exhaustion 
 and excitement that had followed. She also knew 
 that on poor Eleanor that fearful Eastern's Eve had 
 left an indelible impression, recurring in any state 
 of weakness or fever. She scarcely marvelled at 
 the strange and frightful fancies, except that she 
 believed enough in second-sight to be concerned at 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 101 
 
 the mention of the shroud enfolding the young 
 Beauchamp, who bore the fanciful title of the King 
 of the Isle of Wight. 
 
 For the present, however, she applied herself to 
 the comfortinsj of Eleanor with tender words and 
 murmured prayers, and never left her till she had 
 slept and wakened again, her full self, upon Jean 
 coming up to bed at nine o'clock — a very late 
 hour — escorted by sundry of the ladies to inquire 
 for the patient. 
 
 Jean was still excited, but she was, with all her 
 faults, very fond of her sister, and obeyed Lady 
 Drummond in being as quiet as possible. She 
 seemed to take it as a matter of course that EUeen 
 should have her strange whims. 
 
 'Mother used to beat her for them/ she said, 
 'but Nurse Ankaret said that made her worse, 
 an^d we kept them secret as much as we could. 
 To think of her having them before all that 
 
102 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 English folk ! But she will be all right the 
 morn.' 
 
 This proved true ; after the night's rest Eleanor 
 rose in the morning as if nothing had disturbed her, 
 and met her hosts as if no visions had hung around 
 them. It was well, for Sir Patrick had accepted the 
 invitation courteously given by the Duke of York 
 to join the great cavalcade with which he, with his 
 brothers-in-law, the Earl of Salisbury and Bishop of 
 Durham, and the Earl of Warwick, alias the King 
 of the Isle of Wight, were on their way to the Par- 
 liament that was summoned anent the King's mar- 
 riage. The unwilling knights of the shire and 
 burgesses of Northampton who would have to assist 
 in the money grant had asked his protection ; and 
 all were to start early on the Monday — for Sunday 
 was carefully observed as a holiday, and the whole 
 party in all their splendours attended high mass in 
 the beautiful church. 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 103 
 
 After time had been given for the ensuing meal, 
 all the yeomen and young men of the neighbourhood 
 came up to the great outer court of the castle, where 
 there was ample space for sports and military exer- 
 cises, shooting with the long and cross bow, riding 
 at the quintain and the like, in competitions with 
 the grooms and men-at-arms attached to the retinue 
 of the various great men ; and the wives, daughters, 
 and sweethearts came up to watch them. For the 
 most successful there were prizes of leathern coats, 
 bows, knives, and the like, and refreshments of 
 barley-bread, beef, and very small beer, served round 
 with a liberal hand by the troops of servants bear- 
 ing the falcon and fetterlock badge, and all was 
 done not merely in sport but very much in earnest, 
 in the hope on the part of the Duke, and all who 
 were esteemed patriotic, that these youths might 
 serve in retaining at least, if not in recovering, the 
 English conquests. 
 
104 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 Those of gentle blood abstained from their war- 
 like exercises on this day of the week, but they 
 looked on from the broad walk in the thickness of 
 the massive walls ; the Duke with his two beautiful 
 little boys by his side, the young Earls of March 
 and Eutland, handsome fair children, in whom the 
 hereditary blue eyes and fair complexion of the 
 Plantagenets recurred, and who bade fair to surpass 
 their father in stature. Their mother was by right 
 and custom to distribute the prizes, but she always 
 disliked doing so, and either excused herself, or 
 reached them out with the ungracious demeanour 
 that had won for her the muttered name of ' Proud 
 Cis.' On this day she had avoided the task on the 
 plea of the occupations caused by her approaching 
 journey, and the Duke put in her place his elder 
 boy and his little cousin. Lady Anne Beauchamp, 
 the child of the young King of the Isle of Wight — 
 a short-lived little delicate being, but very fair and 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK ^ 105 
 
 pretty, so that the two children together upon a 
 stone chair, cushioned with red velvet, were like a 
 fairy king and queen, and there was many a murmur 
 of admiration, and ' Bless their little hearts ' or ' their 
 sweet faces,' as Anne's dainty fingers handled the 
 prizes, big bows or knives, arrows or belts, and 
 Edward had a smile and appropriate speech for each, 
 such as ' Shoot at a Frenchman's breast next time. 
 Bob ' ; ' There's a knife to cut up the deer with. Will,' 
 and the like amenities, at which his father nodded, 
 well pleased to see the arts of popularity coming to 
 him by nature. Sir Patrick watched with grave 
 eyes, as he thought of his beloved sovereign's desire 
 to see his people thus practised in arms without 
 peril of feud and violence to one another. 
 
 Jean looked on, eager to see some of the Scots 
 of their own escort excel the English pock-puddings, 
 but though Dandie and two or three more contended, 
 the habits were too unfamiliar for them to win any 
 
106 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 great distinction, and George Douglas did not come 
 forward ; the competition was not for men of gentle 
 blood, and success would have brought him forward 
 in a manner it was desirable to avoid. There was 
 a good deal of merry talk between Jean and the 
 hosts, enemies though she regarded them. The 
 Duke of York was evidently much struck with her 
 beauty and liveliness, and he asked Sir Patrick in 
 private whether there were any betrothal or contract 
 in consequence of which he was taking her to France. 
 
 ' None,' said Sir Patrick, ' it is merely to be with 
 her sister, the Dauphiness.' 
 
 ' Then,' said young Eichard Nevil, who was 
 standing by him, and seemed to have instigated the 
 question, ' there would be no hindrance supposing 
 she struck the King's fancy.' 
 
 ' The King is contracted,' said Sir Patrick. 
 
 ' Half contracted ! but to the beggarly daughter 
 of a Frenchman who calls himself king of half-a- 
 
Ill FALCON AND FETTERLOCK 107 
 
 dozen realms without an acre in any of them. It is 
 not gone so far but that it might be thrown over if 
 he had sense and spirit not to be led by the nose by 
 the Cardinal and Suffolk.' 
 
 ' Hush — hush, Dick ! this is dangerous matter/ 
 said the Duke, and Sir Patrick added — 
 
 ' These ladies are nieces to the Cardinal.' 
 
 ' That is well, and it would win the more readily 
 consent — even though Suffolk and his shameful 
 peace were thrown over,' eagerly said the future 
 king-maker. 
 
 ' Gloucester would be willing,' added the Duke. 
 ' He loved the damsel's father, and hateth the French 
 alliance.' * 
 
 ' I spoke with her,' added Nevil, ' and, red-hot 
 ■little Scot as she is, she only lacks an English 
 wedlock to make her as truly English, which this 
 wench of Anjou can never be.' 
 
 ' She would give our meek King just the spring 
 
108 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap, hi 
 
 and force lie needs/ said the Duke ; ' but thou -^'ilt 
 hold thy peace, Sir Knight, and let no whisper 
 reach the women-folk.' 
 
 This Sir Patrick readily promised. He was 
 considerably tickled by the idea of negotiating such 
 an important affair for his young King and his 
 protegee, feeling that the benefit to Scotland might 
 outweigh any qualms as to the disappointment to 
 the French allies. Besides, if King Henry of 
 Windsor should think proper to fall in love with 
 her, he could not help it; he had not brought her 
 away from home or to England with any such 
 purpose ; he had only to stand by and let things 
 take their course, so long as the safety and honour 
 of her, her brother, and the kingdom were secure. 
 So reasoned the canny Scot, but he held his tongue- 
 to his Lilias. 
 
CHAPTEE IV 
 
 ST. Helen's 
 
 * I thought King Henry had resembled thee, 
 In courage, courtship, and proportion : 
 But all his mind is bent to holiness, 
 To number Ave-Maries on his beads : 
 His champions are the prophets and apostles ; 
 His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ. ' 
 
 King Henry VI. 
 
 Geoege Douglas's chivalrous venture in defence of 
 the falcon of his lady-love had certainly not done 
 much for him hitherto, as ' Davie observed. The 
 Lady Joanna, as every one now called her, took it 
 as only the bounden duty and natural service of one 
 of her suite, and would have cared little for his 
 suffering for it personally, except so far as it con- 
 cerned her own dignity, which she understood much 
 
no TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES CHAP. 
 
 better than she had done in Scotland, where she 
 was only one of ' the lassies/ an encumbrance to 
 every one. 
 
 The York retainers had dropped all idea of visit- 
 ing his offence upon Douglas when they found that 
 he had acted in the service of an honoured guest of 
 their lord, but they did not look with much favour 
 on him or on any other of the Scottish troop, whom 
 their master enjoined them to treat as guests and 
 comrades. 
 
 The uniting of so many suites of the mighty 
 nobles of the fifteenth century formed quite a Httle 
 army, amounting to some two or three hundred 
 horsemen, mostly armed, and well appointed, with 
 their masters' badges on their sleeves, — falcon and 
 fetterlock, dun cow, bear and ragged staff and the 
 cross of Durham, while all likewise wore in theii' 
 caps the white rose. Waggons with household 
 furniture and kitchen needments had been sent in 
 
IV ST. HELENS 111 
 
 advance with the numerous ' black guard/ and a 
 provision of cattle for slaughter accompanied these, 
 since it was one of the considerate acts that already 
 had won affection to Eichard of York that, unlike 
 many of the great nobles, he always avoided as much 
 as possible letting his train be oppressive to the 
 country-people. 
 
 David Drummond had been seeing that all his 
 father's troop were duly provided with the Drum- 
 mond badge, the thyme, which was requisite as 
 showing them accepted of the Duke of York's 
 company, but as George and his follower had 
 never submitted to wear it, he was somewhat sur- 
 prised to find the ^ gray blossom prominent in 
 George's steel - guarded cap, and to hear him 
 saying — 
 
 'Don it, Eingan, as thou wouldst obey me.' 
 ' His father's son is not his own father,' said 
 Eingan sulkily. 
 
112 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Then tak' thy choice of wearing it, or winning 
 hame as thou canst — most like hanging on the 
 nearest oak.' 
 
 ' And I'd gey liefer than demean myself in the 
 Drummond thyme ! ' replied Eingan, half turning 
 away. ' But then what would come of Gray Meg 
 wi' only the Master to see till her/ muttered he, 
 caressing the mare's neck. ' Weel, aweel, sir ' — 
 and he held out his hand for the despised spray. 
 
 ' Is yon thy wild callant, Greordie ? ' said David 
 in some surprise, for Eingan was not only provided 
 with a pony, but his thatch of tow-like hair had 
 been trimmed and . covered with a barret cap, and 
 his leathern coat and leggings were like those of the 
 other horse-boys. 
 
 'Ay,' said George, 'this is no place to be ower 
 kenspeckle.' 
 
 * I was coming to ask,' said David, ' if thou 
 wouldst not own thyself to my father, and take thy 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 113 
 
 proper place ere ganging farther south. It irks me 
 to see some of the best blood in Scotland among the 
 grooms.' 
 
 ' It must irk thee still, Davie/ returned George. 
 ' These English folk might not thole to see my 
 father's son in their hands without winning some- 
 thing out of him, and I saw by what passed the 
 other day that thou and thy father would stand by 
 me, hap what hap, and I'll never embroil him and 
 peril the lady by my freak.' 
 
 ' My father kens pretty well wha is riding in his 
 companie,' said David. 
 
 ' Ay, but he is not bound to ken.' 
 
 ' And thou winna ^rite to the Yerl, as ye said ye 
 
 would when ye were ower the Border ? There's a 
 
 clerk o' the Bishop of Durham ganging back, and 
 
 my father is writing letters that he will send forward 
 
 to the King, and thou couldst get a scart o' the pen 
 
 to thy father.' 
 
 VOL. I I 
 
114 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 'And what wad be thought of a puir man-at- 
 arms sending letters to the Yerl ? ' said George. 
 * Na, na ; I may write when we win to France, a 
 friendly land, but while we are in England, the 
 loons shall make naething out of my father's son.' 
 
 ' Weel, gang thine ain gait, and an unco strange 
 one it is,' said David. ' I marvel what thou count'st 
 on gaining by it ! ' 
 
 ' The sicht of her at least,' said George. ' Nay, 
 she needed a stout hand once, she may need it 
 
 again. 
 
 Whereat David waved his hands in a sort of 
 contemptuous wonder. 
 
 ' If it were the Duchess of York now ! ' he said. 
 ' She is far bonnier and even prouder, gin that be 
 what tak's your fancy ! And as to our Jeanie, 
 they are all cockering her up till she'll no be content 
 with a king. I doot me if the Paip himseK wad be 
 good enough for her ! ' 
 
IV ST. Helen's 115 
 
 It was true that the brilliant and. lively Lady- 
 Joanna was in high favour with the princely gallants 
 of the cavalcade. The only member of the party 
 at all equal to her in beauty was the Duchess of 
 York, who travelled in a whirlicote with her younger 
 children and her ladies, and at the halting-places 
 never relaxed the stiff dignity with which she treated 
 every one. Eleanor did indeed accompany her sister, 
 but she had not Jean's quick power of repartee, and 
 she often answered at haphazard, and was not under- 
 stood when she did reply; nor had she Jean's 
 beauty, so that in the opinion of most of the young 
 nobles she was but a raw, almost dumb, Scots- 
 woman, and was left to herself as much as courtesy 
 permitted, except by the young King of the Isle of 
 Wight, a gentle, poetical personage, in somewhat 
 deHcate health, with tastes that made him the chosen 
 companion of the scholarly King Henry. He could 
 repeat a great deal of Chaucer's poetry by heart, the 
 
116 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 chief way in which people could as yet enjoy books, 
 and there was an interchange between them of 
 Blind Harry and of the Canterhury Tales, as they 
 rode side by side, sometimes making their com- 
 panions laugh, and wonder that the youthful queen 
 was not jealous. Dame Lilias found her congenial 
 companion in the Countess Alice of Salisbury, who 
 could talk with her of that golden age of the two 
 Idngs, Henry and James, of her brother Malcolm, 
 and of Esclairmonde de Luxembourg, now Sister 
 Clare, whom they hoped soon to see in the sister- 
 hood of St. Katharine's. 
 
 ' Hers hath been the happy course, the blessed 
 dedication,' said Countess Alice. 
 
 ' We have both been blessed too, thanks to the 
 saints,' returned Lilias. 
 
 ' That is indeed sooth,' replied the other lady. 
 ' My lord hath ever been most good to me, and I 
 have had joy of my sons. Yet there is much that 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 117 
 
 my mind forbodes and shrinks back from in dread, 
 as I watch my son Eichard's overmastering spirit.' 
 
 ' The Cardinal and the Duke of Gloucester have 
 long been at strife, as we heard/ said Lady Drum- 
 mond, ' but sure that will be appeased now that the 
 Cardinal is an old man and your King come to years 
 of discretion.' 
 
 ' The King is a sweet youth, a very saint already/ 
 replied the Countess, ' but I misdoubt whether he 
 have the stout heart and strong hand of his father, 
 and he is set on peace.' 
 
 ' Peace is to be followed,' said Lilias, amazed at 
 the tone in which her friend mentioned it. 
 
 ' Peace at home ! Ay, but peace at home is 
 only to be had by war abroad. Peace abroad with- 
 out honour only leaves these fiery spirits to fume, 
 and fly at one another's throats, or at those who 
 wrought it. My mind misgives me, mine old friend, 
 lest wrangling lead to blows. I had rather see my 
 
118 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES chap. 
 
 Eichard spurring against the French than against 
 his cousins of Somerset, and while they advance 
 themselves and claim to be nearer in blood to the 
 King than our good host of York, so long will there 
 be cause of bitterness.' 
 
 ' Our kindly host seems to wish evil to no man.' 
 
 ' Nay, he is content enough, but my sister his 
 wife, and alas ! my son, cannot let him forget that 
 after the Duke of Gloucester he is highest in the 
 direct male line to King Edward of Windsor, and in 
 the female line stands nearer than this present 
 King.' 
 
 ' In Scotland he would not forget that his father 
 suffered for that very cause.' 
 
 'Ah, Lilias, thou hast seen enow of what such 
 blood-feuds work in Scotland to know how much I 
 dread and how I pray they may never awaken here. 
 The blessed King Harry of Monmouth kept them 
 down by the strong hand, while he won all hearts 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 119 
 
 to himself. It is my prayer that his young son 
 may do the like, and that my Lord of York be not 
 fretted out of his peaceful loyalty by the Somerset 
 outrecioidance, and above all that my own son be 
 not the make-bate ; but Eichard is proud and fiery, 
 and I fear — I greatly fear, what may be in store 
 for us.' 
 
 lilias thought of Eleanor's vision, but kept 
 silence respecting it. 
 
 Forerunners had been sent on by the Duke of 
 York to announce his coming, and who were in his 
 company; and on the last stage these returned, 
 bringing with them a couple of knights and of 
 clerks on the part of the Cardinal of Winchester to 
 welcome his great-nieces, whom he claimed as his 
 guests. 
 
 ' I had hoped that the ladies of Scotland would 
 honour my poor house,' said the Duke. 
 
 ' The Lord Cardinal deems it thus more fitting,' 
 
 '- _ " ' '■' ^T - 
 
120 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 said the portly priest who acted as Beaufort's 
 secretary, and who spoke with an authority that 
 chafed the Duke. 
 
 Eichard ISTevil rode up to him and muttered — 
 
 ' He hath divined our purpose, and means to 
 cross it.' 
 
 The clerk, however, spoke with Sir Patrick, and 
 in a manner took possession of the young ladies. 
 They were riding between walled courts, substanti- 
 ally built, with intervals of fields and woods, or 
 sometimes indeed of morass ; for London was still 
 an island in the middle of swamps, with the great 
 causeways of the old Eoman times leading to it. 
 The spire of St. Paul's and the square keep of the 
 Tower had been pointed out to them, and Jean 
 exclaimed — 
 
 ' My certie, it is a braw toon ! ' But Eleanor, 
 on her side, exclaimed — 
 
 ' 'Tis but a flat ! Mine eye wearies for the sea ; 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 121 
 
 ay, and for Arthur's Seat and the Castle ! Oh, I 
 wadna gie Embro' for forty of sic toons ! ' 
 
 Perhaps Jean had guessed enough to make her 
 look on London with an eye of possession, for her 
 answer was — 
 
 ' Hear till her ; and she was the first to cry out 
 upon Embro' for a place of reivers and land-loupers, 
 and to want to leave it' 
 
 There was so much that w^as new and wonderful 
 that the sisters pursued the question no further. 
 They saw the masts of the shipping in the Thames, 
 and what seemed to them a throng of church towers 
 and spires ; while, nearer, the road began to be full 
 of market-folk, the women in hoods and mantles 
 and short petticoats, the men in long frocks, such as 
 their Saxon forefathers had worn, driving the rough 
 ponies or donkeys that had brought in their produce. 
 There were begging friars in cowl and frock, and 
 beggars, not friars, with crutch and bowl; there 
 
122 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 were gleemen and tumbling women, solid tradesfolk 
 going out to the country farms they loved, troops of 
 'prentices on their way to practice with the bow or 
 cudgel, and parties of gaily- coloured nobles, knights, 
 squires, and burgesses, coming, like their own party, 
 to the meeting of Parliament. 
 
 There were continual greetings, the Duke of 
 York showing himself most markedly courteous to 
 all, his dark head being almost continuously un- 
 covered, and bending to his saddle-bow in response 
 to the salutations that met him ; and friendly 
 inquiries and answers being often exchanged. The 
 EarTof Salisbury and his son were almost equally 
 courteous ; but in the midst of all the interest of 
 these greetings, soon after entering the city at 
 Bishopsgate, the clerk caused the two Scottish 
 sisters to draw up at an arched gateway in a solid- 
 looking wall, saying that it was here that my Lord 
 Cardinal wished his royal kinswomen to be received, 
 
IV ST. Helen's 123 
 
 at the Priory of St. Helen's. A hooded lay-sister 
 looked out at a wicket, and on his speaking to her, 
 proceeded to unbar the great gates, while the Duke 
 of York took leave in a more than kindly manner, 
 declaring that they would meet again, and that he 
 knew ' My Lady of St. Helen's would make them 
 good cheer.' 
 
 Indeed, he himself and the King of Wight rode 
 into the outer court, and lifted the two ladies down 
 from horseback, at the inner gate, beyond which 
 they might not go. Jean, crossed now for the first 
 time since she had left home, was in tears of vexa- 
 tion, and could hardly control her voice to respond 
 to his words, muttering — 
 
 'As if I looked for this. . Beshrew the old 
 priest ! ' 
 
 None but female attendants could be admitted. 
 Sir Patrick, with his sons and the rest of the train, 
 was to be lodged at the great palace of the Bishop 
 
124 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 of Winchester at Southwark, and as he came up to 
 take leave of Jean, she said, with a stamp of her 
 foot and a clench of her hand — 
 
 ' Let my uncle know that I am no cloister-bird 
 to be mewed up here. I demand to be with the 
 friends I have made, and who have bidden me.' 
 
 Shrewd Sir Patrick smiled a little as he 
 said — 
 
 ' I will tell the Lord Cardinal what you say, 
 lady; but methinks you will find that submission 
 to him with a good grace carries you farther here 
 than does ill-humour.' 
 
 He said somethinsj of the same kind to his wife 
 as he took leave of h^r, well knowing who were 
 predominant with the King, and who were in opposi- 
 tion, the only link being the Iving of Wight, or 
 rather Earl of Warwick, who, as the son of Henry's 
 guardian, had been bred up in the closest intimacy 
 with the monarch, and, indeed, had been invested 
 
IV ST. Helen's 125 
 
 with his fantastic sovereignty that he might be 
 treated as a brother and on an equality. 
 
 Jean, however, remained very angry and discon- 
 tented. After her neglected and oppressed younger 
 days, the courtesy and admiration she had received 
 for the last ten days had the effect of making her 
 like a spoilt child ; and when they entered the 
 inner cloistered court within, and were met by the 
 Lady Prioress, at the head of all her sisters in black 
 dresses, she hardly vouchsafed an inclination of the 
 head in reply to the graceful and courtly welcome 
 with which the princesses, nieces to the great Cardinal, 
 were received. Eleanor, usually in the background, 
 was left in surprise and confusion to stammer out 
 thanks in broad Scotch, seconded by Lady Drum- 
 mond, who could make herself far more intelligible 
 to these south-country ears. 
 
 There was a beautiful cloister, a double walk 
 with clustered columns runninsr down the centre 
 
126 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 and a vaulted roof, and with a fountain in the 
 midst of the quadrangle. There was a chapel on 
 one side, the buildings of the Priory on the others. 
 It was only a Priory, for the parent Abbey was in 
 the country; but the Prioress was a noble lady of 
 the house of Stafford, a small personage as to stature, 
 but thoroughly alert and business-like, and, in fact, 
 the moving spring, not only of the actual house, but 
 of the parent Abbey, manager of the property it 
 possessed in the city, and of all its monastic politics. 
 
 Without apparent offence, she observed that no 
 doubt the ladies were weary, and that Sister Mabel 
 should conduct them to the guest-chamber. Accord- 
 ingly one of the black figures led the way, and as 
 soon as they were beyond ear -shot there were 
 observations that would not have gratified Jean. 
 
 ' The ill-nurtured Scots ! ' cried one young nun. 
 
 ' 'Tis ever the way with them,' returned a much 
 older one. ' I mind when one was captive in my 
 
IV ST. HELEN S 127 
 
 father's castle who was a mere clown, and drank up 
 the water that was meant to wash his fingers after 
 meat. The guest-chamber will need a cleaning after 
 they are gone ! ' 
 
 ' Methinks it was less lack of manners than lack 
 of temper/ said the Prioress. ' She hath the Beau- 
 fort face and the Beaufort spirit.' 
 
 The chapel bell began to ring, and the black 
 veils and white filed in long procession to the 
 pointed doorway, while the two Scottish damsels, 
 with Lady Drummond, her daughter, and Christie, 
 were conducted to <three chambers looking out on 
 the one side on the cloistered court, on the other 
 over a choicely-kept gajden, walled in, but planted 
 with trees shading the turf walks. The rooms were, 
 as Sister Mabel explained with some complacency, 
 reserved for the lodging of the noble ladies who 
 came to London as guests of my Lord Cardinal, or 
 with petitions to the King ; and certainly there was 
 
128 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 nothing of asceticism about them ; but they were an 
 advance even on those at Fotheringay. St. Helena 
 discovering the Cross was carved over the ample 
 chimney, and the hangings were of Spanish leather, 
 with all the wondrous history of Santiago's relics, 
 including the miracle of the cock and hen, embossed 
 and gilt upon them. There was a Venetian mirror, 
 in which the ladies saw more of themselves than 
 they had ever done before, and with exquisite work 
 around ; there were carved chests inlaid with ivory, 
 and cushions, perfect marvels of needlework, as were 
 the curtains and coverlets of the mighty bed, and 
 the screens to be arranged for privacy. There were 
 toilette vessels of beautifully shaped and brightly 
 polished brass, and on a silver salver was a refection 
 of manchet bread, comfits, dried cherries, and wine. 
 Sister Mabel explained that a lay-sister would 
 be at hand, in case anything was needed by the 
 noble ladies, and then hurried away to vespers. 
 
iv ST. HELENS 129 
 
 Jean threw herself upon the cross-legged chair 
 that stood nearest. 
 
 ' A nunnery forsooth ! Does our uncle trow 
 that is what I came here for ? We have had enow 
 of nunneries at home.' 
 
 ' Oh, fie for shame, Jeanie ! ' cried Eleanor. 
 
 ' 'Twas thou that saidst it/ returned Jean. ' Thou 
 saidst thou hadst no call to the veil, and gin my Lord 
 trows that we shall thole to be shut up here, he will 
 find himself in the wrong.' 
 
 ' Lassie, lassie,' exclaimed Lady Drummond, 
 ' what ails ye ? This is but a lodging, and sic a 
 braw chamber as ye hae scarce seen before. Would 
 you have your uncle lodge ye among all his priests 
 and clerks ? Scarce the place for douce maidens, I 
 trow.' 
 
 ' Leddy of Glenuskie, ye're not sae sib to the 
 bliiid royal of Scotland as to speak thus ! Lassie 
 indeed ! ' 
 
 VOL. I K 
 
130 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 Again Eleanor remonstrated. 
 
 ' Jeanie, to speak thus to our gude kins- 
 woman ! ' 
 
 ' I would have all about me ken their place, and 
 what fits them/ said the haughty young lady, partly 
 out of ill -temper and disappointment, partly in 
 imitation of the demeanour of Duchess Cicely. ' As 
 to the Cardinal, I would have him bear in mind 
 that we are a king's own daughters, and he is at 
 best but the grandson of a king 1 And if he deems 
 that he has a right to shut us up here out of sight 
 of the King and his court, lest we should cross his 
 rule over his King and disturb his French policy 
 and craft, there are those that will gar him ken 
 better ! ' 
 
 ' Some one else will ken better,' quietly observed 
 Dame Lilias. ' Gin ye be no clean daft, Leddy 
 Joanna, since naething else will serve ye, canna ye 
 see that to strive with the Cardinal is the worst gait 
 
IV ^^ ST. HELEN'S 131 
 
 to win his favour with the King, gin that be what 
 ye be set upon ? ' 
 
 ' There be others that can deal with the King, 
 forbye the Cardinal,' said Jean, tossing her head. 
 
 Just then arrived a sister, sent by the Mother 
 Prioress, to invite the ladies to supper in her own 
 apartments. 
 
 Her respectful manner so far pacified Jean's ill- 
 humour that a civil reply was returned ; the young 
 ladies bestirred themselves to make preparations, 
 though Jean grumbled at the trouble for ' a pack of 
 womenfolk ' — and supposed they were to make a 
 meal of dried peas and red herrings, like their last 
 on Lammermuir. 
 
 It was a surprise to be conducted, not to the 
 refectory, where all the nuns took their meal 
 together, but to a small room opening into the 
 cloister on one side, and with a window embowered 
 in vines on the other, looking into the garden. It 
 
132 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES chap. 
 
 was by no means bare, like the typical cells of strict 
 convents. The Mother, Margaret Stafford, was a 
 great lady, and the Benedictines of the old founda- 
 tion of St. Helen's in the midst of the capital were 
 indeed respectable and respected, but very far from 
 strict observers of their rule — and St. Helen's was 
 so much influenced by the wealth and display of 
 the city that the nuns, many of whom were these 
 great merchants' daughters, would have been sur- 
 prised to be told that they had de^Darted from Bene- 
 dictine simplicity. So the Prioress's chamber was 
 tapestried above with St. Helena's life, and below 
 was enclosed with drapery panels. It was strewed 
 with sweet fresh rushes, and had three cross-legged 
 chairs, besides several stools ; the table, as usual 
 upon trestles, was provided with delicate napery, 
 and there was a dainty perfume about the whole ; a 
 beautiful crucifix of ivory and ebony, with images 
 of Our Lady and St. John on either side, and 
 
IV ST. Helen's 133 
 
 another figure of St, Helena, cross in hand, pre- 
 siding over the holy water stoup, were the most 
 ecclesiastical things in the garniture, except the 
 exquisitely illuminated breviary that lay open upon 
 a desk. 
 
 Mother Margaret rose to receive her guests with 
 as much dignity as Jean herself could have shown, 
 and made them welcome to her poor house, hoping 
 that they would there find things to their mind. 
 
 Something restrained Jean from bursting out 
 with her petulant complaint, and it was Eleanor 
 who replied with warm thanks. ' My Lord Cardinal 
 would come to visit them on the morn,' the Prioress 
 said ; ' and in the meantime, she hoped,' looking at 
 Jean, 'they would condescend to the hospitality of 
 the poor daughters of St. Helen.' 
 
 The hospitality, as brought in by two plump, 
 well-fed lay-sisters, consisted of ' chickens in cretyne,' 
 stewed in milk, seasoned with sugar, coloured with 
 
134 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 saffron, of potage of oysters, butter of almond-milk, 
 and other delicate meats, such as had certainly never 
 been tasted at Stirling or Dunbar. Lady Drummond's 
 birth entitled her and Annis to sit at table with the 
 Princesses and the Prioress, and she ventured to 
 inquire after Esclairmonde de Luxembourg, or, as 
 she was now called, Sister Clare of St. Katharine's. 
 
 ' I see her at times. She is the head of the 
 sisters,' said the Prioress ; ' but we have few deal- 
 ings with uncloistered sisters.' 
 
 ' They do a holy work,' observed Lady Lilias. 
 
 ' None ever blamed the Benedictines for lack of 
 alms-deeds,' returned the Prioress haughtily, scarcely 
 attending to the guest's disclaimer. ' ISTor do I 
 deem it befitting that instead of the poor coming to 
 us our sisters should run about to all the foulest 
 hovels of the Docks, encountering men continually, 
 and those of the rudest sort.' 
 
 ' Yet there are calls and vocations for all,' ven- 
 
IV ST. HELENS 135 
 
 tured Lady Drummond. ' And the sick are brethren 
 in need.' 
 
 ' Let them send to us for succour then/ answered 
 Mother Margaret. ' I grant that it is well that 
 some one should tend them in their huts, but such 
 tasks are for sisters of low birth and breeding. 
 Mine are ladies of noble rank, though I do admit 
 daughters of Lord Mayors and Aldermen.' 
 
 ' Our Saint Margaret was a queen, Eeverend 
 Mother,' put in Eleanor. 
 
 ' She was no nun, saving your Grace,' said the 
 Prioress. ' What I speak of is that which beseems 
 a daughter of St. Bennet, of an ancient and royal 
 foundation ! The saving of the soul is so much 
 harder to the worldly life, specially to a queen, that 
 it is no marvel if she has to abase herself more — 
 even to the washing of lepers — than is needful to a 
 vowed and cloistered sister.' 
 
 It was an odd theory, that this Benedictine 
 
136 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES chap. 
 
 seclusion saved trouble, as being actually the strait 
 course ; but tlie young maidens were not scholars 
 enough to question it, and Dame Lilias, though she 
 had learnt more from her brother and her friend, 
 would have deemed it presumptuous to dispute with 
 a Eeverend Mother. So only Eleanor murmured, 
 ' The holy Margaret no saint ' — and Jean, ' Weel, 
 I had liefer take my chance.' 
 
 ' All have not a vocation,' piously said the 
 Mother. ' Taste this Eose Dalmoyne, Madame ; our 
 lay-sister Mold is famed for making it. An alder- 
 man of the Fishmongers' Company sent to beg that 
 his cook might know the secret, but that was not to 
 be lightly parted with, so we only send them a dish 
 for their banquets.' 
 
 Eose Dalmoyne was chiefly of peas, flavoured 
 with almonds and millv, but the guests grew weary 
 of the varieties of delicacies, and were very glad when 
 the tables were removed, and Eleanor asked per- 
 
IV ST. HELEN S 137 
 
 mission to look at the illuminations in the breviary 
 on the desk. 
 
 And exquisite they were. The book had been 
 brought from Italy and presented to the Prioress by 
 a merchant who wished to place his daughter in St. 
 Helen's, and the beauty was unspeakable. There were 
 natural flowers painted so perfectly that the scattered 
 violets seemed to invite the hand to lift them up from 
 their gold-besprinkled bed, and flies and beetles that 
 Eleanor actually attempted to drive away ; and at all 
 the greater holy days, the type and the antitype 
 covering the two whole opposite pages were repre- 
 sented in the admirable art and pure colouring of 
 the ^arly Cinquecento. 
 
 Eleanor and Annis were entranced, and the 
 Prioress, seemg that books had an attraction for her 
 younger guest, promised her on the morrow a sight 
 of some of the metrical lives of the saints, especially 
 of St. Katharine and of St. Cecilia. It must be owned 
 
138 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 that Jean was not fretted as she expected by chapel 
 bells in the middle of the night, nor was even Lady 
 Drummond summoned by them as she intended, 
 but there was a conglomeration of the night services 
 in the morning, with beautiful singing, that delighted 
 Eleanor, and the festival mass ensuing was also 
 more ornate than anything to be seen in Scotland. 
 And that the extensive almsgiving had not been a 
 vain boast was evident from the swarms of poor of 
 all kinds who congregated in the outer court for 
 the attention of the Sisters Ahnoner and Infirmarer, 
 attended by two or three novices and some lay- 
 sisters. 
 
 There were genuine poor, ragged forlorn women, 
 and barefooted, almost naked children, and also 
 sturdy beggars, pilgrims and palmers on their way 
 to various shrines, north or south, and many more 
 for whom a dole of broth or bread sufficed ; but 
 there were also others with heads or limbs tied up, 
 
IV ST. HELENS 139 
 
 sometimes injured in the many street fights, but 
 oftener with the terrible sores only too common 
 from the squalid habits and want of vegetable diet 
 of the poor. These were all attended to with a 
 tenderness and patience that spoke well for the 
 charity of Sister Anne and her assistants, and indeed 
 before long Dame Lilias perceived that, however 
 slack and easy-going the general habits might be, 
 there were truly meek and saintly women among 
 the sisterhood. 
 
 The morning was not far advanced before a lay- 
 sister came hurrying in from the portress's wicket 
 to announce that my Lord Cardinal was on his way 
 to v^sit the ladies of Scotland. There was great 
 commotion. Mother Margaret summoned all her 
 nuns and drew them up in state, and Sister Mabel, 
 who carried the tidings to the guests, asked whether 
 they would not join in receiving him. 
 
 ' We are king's daughters,' said Jean haughtily. 
 
140 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap, 
 
 ' But he is a Prince of the Church and an aged 
 man/ said Lady Drummond, who had already risen, 
 and was adjusting that headgear of Eleanor's that 
 never would stay in its place. And her matronly 
 voice acted upon Jean, so as to conquer the petulant 
 pride, enough to make her remember that the Lady 
 of Glenuskie was herself a Stewart and kins^s' 
 grandchild, and moreover knew more of courts and 
 their habits than herself 
 
 So down they went together, in time to join 
 the Prioress on the steps, as the attendants of the 
 great stately, princely Cardinal Bishop began to 
 appear. He did not come in state, so that he had 
 only half a dozen clerks and as many gentlemen in 
 attendance, together with Sir Patrick and his two 
 sons. 
 
 Few of the Plantagenet family had been long- 
 lived, and Cardinal Beaufort was almost a marvel in 
 the family at seventy. Much evil has been said 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 141 
 
 and written of him, and there is no doubt that he 
 was one of those mediseval prelates who ought to 
 have been warriors or statesmen, and that he had 
 been no model for the Episcopacy in his youth. 
 But though far from having been a saint, it would 
 seem that his unpopularity in his old age was 
 chiefly incurred by his desire to put an end to the 
 long and miserable war with France, and by his 
 opposition to a much worse man, the Duke of 
 Gloucester, whose plausible murmurs and amiable 
 manners made him a general favourite. At this 
 period of his life the old man had lived past his 
 political ambitions, and his chief desire was to leave 
 the ^gentle young king freed from the wasting war 
 by a permanent peace, to be secured by a marriage 
 with a near connection of the French monarch, and 
 daughter to the jnost honourable and accomplished 
 Prince in Europe. That his measures turned out 
 wretchedly has been charged upon his memory, and 
 
142 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 he has been supposed guilty of a murder, of which 
 he was certainly innocent, and which probably was 
 no murder at all. 
 
 He had become a very grand and venerable old 
 man, when old men were scarce, and his white hair 
 and beard (a survival of the customs of the days of 
 Edward III) contrasted well with his scarlet hat 
 and cape, as he came slowly into the cloistered 
 court on his large sober-paced Spanish mule ; a 
 knight and the chaplain of the convent assisted him 
 from it, and the whole troop of the convent knelt as 
 he lifted his fingers to bestow his blessing, Jean 
 casting a quick glance around to satisfy her proud 
 spirit. The Prioress then kissed his hand, but he 
 raised and kissed the cheeks of his two grand- 
 nieces, after which he moved on to the Prioress's 
 chamber, and there, after being installed in her 
 large chair, and waving to the four favoured inmates 
 to be also seated, he looked critically at the two 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 143 
 
 sisters, and observed, ' So, maidens ! one favours the 
 mother, the other the father ! Poor Joan, it is two- 
 and-twenty years since we bade her good-speed, she 
 and her young king — who behoved to be a minstrel 
 — on her way to her kingdom, as if it were the 
 land of Cockayne, for picking up gold and silver. 
 Little of that she found, I trow, poor wench. 
 Alack ! it was a sore life we sent her to. And you 
 are mourning her freshly, my maidens ! I trust 
 she died at peace with God and man/ 
 
 'That reiver, Patrick Hepburn, let the priest 
 from Haddington come to assoilzie and housel her,' 
 responded Jean. 
 
 ' Ah ! Masses shall be said for her by my bedes- 
 men at St. Cross, and at all my churches,' said the 
 Cardinal, crossing himself. ' And you are on your 
 way to your sister, the Dolfine, as your knight tells 
 me. It is well. You may be worthily wedded in 
 Prance, and I will take order for your safe going. 
 
144 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES CHAr. 
 
 Meantime, this is a house where you may well serve 
 your poor mother's soul by prayers and masses, and 
 likewise perfect yourselves in French.' 
 
 This was not at all what Jean had intended, and 
 she pouted a little, while the Cardinal asked, chang- 
 ing his language, ' Ces donzelles, out elles appris le 
 Frangais ? ' 
 
 Jean, who had tried to let Father Eomuald 
 teach her a little in conversation during the first 
 part of the journey, but who had dropped the notion 
 since other ideas had been inspired at Fotherin- 
 gay, could not understand, and pouted the more; 
 but Eleanor, who had been interested, and tried 
 more in earnest, for Margaret's sake, answered diffi- 
 dently and blushing deeply, 'ITn petit peu, beau 
 Sire Oncle! 
 
 He smiled, and said, ' You can be well instructed 
 here. The Eeverend Mother hath sisters here who 
 can both speak and write French of Paris.' 
 
IV ST. HELENS 145 
 
 ' That have I truly, my good Lord/ replied the 
 Prioress. ' Sisters Isabel and Beata spent their 
 younger days, the one at Eouen, the other at Bor- 
 deaux, and have learned many young ladies in the 
 true speaking of the French tongue.' 
 
 'It is well ! ' said the Cardinal, ' my fair nieces 
 wiU have good leisure. While sharing the orisons 
 that I will institute for the repose of your mother, 
 you can also be taught the French/ 
 
 Jean could not help speaking now, so far was 
 this from all her hopes. ' Sir, sir, the Duke and 
 Duchess of York, and the Countess of Salisbury, and 
 the Queen of the Isle of Wight all bade us to be 
 their guests.' 
 
 ' They could haply not have been aware of your 
 dool,' said the Cardinal gravely. 
 
 ' But, my Lord, our mother hath been dead since 
 before Martinmas,' exclaimed Jean. 
 
 ' I know not what customs of dool be thought 
 
 VOL. I L 
 
146 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES CHAP. 
 
 befitting in a land like Scotland,' said the Cardinal, 
 in such a repressive manner that Jean was only 
 withheld by awe from bursting into tears of dis- 
 appointment and anger at the slight to her country. 
 
 Lady Drummond ventured to speak. ' Alack, 
 my Lord,' she said, ' my poor Queen died in the 
 hands of a freebooter, leaving her daughters in such 
 stress and peril that they had woe enough for them- 
 selves, till their brother the King came to their 
 rescue.' 
 
 ' The more need that they should fulfil all that 
 may be done for the grace of her soul/ replied the 
 uncle ; but just at this crisis of Jean's mortification 
 there was a knocking at the door, and a sister 
 breathlessly entreated — 
 
 ' Pardon ! Merci ! My Lord, my Lady Mother ! 
 Here's the King, the King himself — and the King 
 and Queen of the Isle of Wight asking licence to 
 enter to visit the ladies of Scotland.' 
 
IV ST. HELENS 147 
 
 Kings were always held to be free to enter any- 
 where, even far more dangerous nionarchs than the 
 pious Henry VI. Jean's heart bounded up again, 
 with a sense of exultation over the old uncle, as the 
 Prioress went out to receive her new guest, and the 
 Cardinal emitted a sort of grunting sigh, without 
 troubling himself to go out to meet the youth, whom 
 he had governed from babyhood, and in whose own 
 name he had, as one of the council, given permission 
 for wholesome chastisements of the royal person. 
 
 King Henry entered. He was then twenty-four 
 years old, tall, graceful, and with beautiful features 
 and complexion, almost feminine in their delicacy, 
 and with a wonderful purity and sweetness in the 
 expression of the mouth and blue eyes, so that he 
 struck Eleanor as resembling the angels in the 
 illuminations that she had been studying, as he 
 removed his dark green velvet jewelled cap on 
 entering, and gave a cousinly, respectful kiss lightly 
 
148 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES chap. 
 
 to each of the young ladies on her cheek, somewhat 
 as if he were afraid of them. Then after greeting 
 the Cardinal, who had risen on his entrance, he said 
 that, hearing that his fair cousins were arrived, he 
 had come to welcome them, and to entreat them to 
 let him do them such honour as was possible in a 
 court without a queen. 
 
 ' The which lack will soon be remedied,' put in 
 his grand-uncle. 
 
 ' Truly you are in holy keeping here,' said the 
 pious young King, crossing himself, ' but I trust, my 
 sweet cousins, that you will favour my poor house 
 at Westminster with your presence at a supper, and 
 share such entertainment as is in our power to 
 provide.' 
 
 ' ]\Iy nieces are keeping their mourning for their 
 mother, from which they have hitherto been hindered 
 by the tumults of their kingdom,' said the Cardinal. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' said the Kin^, crossing' himself, and 
 
IV ST. HELEN'S 149 
 
 instantly moved, ' far be it from me to break into 
 their holy retirement for such a purpose.' (Jean 
 could have bitten the Cardinal.) ' But I will take 
 order with my Lord Abbot of Westminster for a 
 grand requiem mass for the good Queen Joanna, at 
 which they w^ill, I trust, be present, and they will 
 honour my poor table afterwards.' 
 
 To refuse this was quite impossible, and the day 
 w^as to be fixed after reference to the Abbess. 
 Meantime the King's eye was caught by the illumin- 
 ated breviary. He was a connoisseur in such arts, 
 and eagerly stood up to look at it as it lay on the 
 desk. Eleanor could not but come and direct him 
 to the pages with which she had been most de- 
 lighted. She found him looking at Jacob's dream 
 on the one side, the Ascension on the other. 
 
 ' How marvellous it is ! ' she said. ' It is like 
 the very light from the sky ! ' 
 
 ' Lioht from heaven,' said the King ; ' Jacob has 
 
150 TWO PENNILESS PPJXCESSES chap. 
 
 found it among the stones. Wandering and home- 
 lessness are liis first step in the ladder to heaven ! ' 
 
 * Ah, sir, did you say that to comfort and 
 hearten us ? ' said Eleanor. 
 
 There was a strange look in the startled blue 
 eyes that met hers. 
 
 ' Nay, truly, lady, I presumed not so far ! I was 
 but wondering whether those who are born to have 
 all the world are in the way of the stair to heaven.' 
 
 Meantime the King of Wight had made his 
 request for the presence of the ladies at a supper 
 at Warwick House, and Jean, clasping her hands, 
 implored her uncle to consent. 
 
 ' I am sure our mother cannot be the better for 
 our being thus mewed up,' she cried, ' and I'll rise 
 at prime, and tell my beads for her.' 
 
 She looked so pretty and imploring that the old 
 man's heart was melted, all the more that the King 
 was paying more attention to the book and the far 
 
IV ST. Helen's 151 
 
 less beantifiil Eleanor than to her, and the invita- 
 tion was accepted. 
 
 The convent bell rang for nones, and the King 
 joined the devotions of the mms, though he was not 
 admitted within the choir ; and just as these were 
 over, the Countess of Salisbury arrived to take the 
 Lady of Glenuskie to see their old friend, the Mother 
 Clare at St. Katharine's, bringing a sober palfrey for 
 her conveyance. 
 
 'A holy woman, full of alms -deeds,' said the 
 King. ' The lady is happy in her friendship.' 
 
 Which words were worth much to Lady Drum- 
 mond, for the Prioress sent a lay-sister to invite 
 Mother Clare to a refection at the convent. 
 
CHAPTEE y 
 
 THE MEEK USUEPER 
 
 Henry thou of holy birth, 
 
 Thou to whom thy Windsor gave 
 
 Nativity and name and grave ! 
 
 Heavily upon his head 
 
 Ancestral crimes were visited.' — Southey. 
 
 It suits not with the main thread of our story to 
 tell of the happy and peaceful meetings between the 
 Lady of Glenuskie and her old friend, who had 
 given up almost princely rank and honour to become 
 the servant of the poor and suffering strangers at 
 the wharves of London. To Dame Lilias, Mother 
 Clare's quiet cell at St. Katharine's was a blessed 
 haven of rest, peace, and charity, such as was neither 
 the guest-chamber nor the Prioress's parlour at 
 
CHAP. V THE MEEK USURPER 153 
 
 St. Helen's, with all the distractions of the prin- 
 cesses' visitors and invitations, and with the Lady 
 Joanna continually pulling against the authority 
 that the Cardinal, her uncle, was exerting over his 
 nieces. 
 
 His object evidently was to keep them back, 
 firstly, from the York party, and secondly, from the 
 King, under pretext of their mourning for their 
 mother ;' and in this he might have succeeded but 
 for the interest in them that had been aroused in 
 Henry by his companion, namesake, and almost 
 brother, the King of Wight. The King came or 
 sent each day to St. Helen's to arrange about the 
 requiem at Westminster, and when their late travel- 
 ling companions invited the young ladies to dinner or 
 to supper expressly to meet the King and the Cardinal 
 — not in state, but at what would be now called a 
 family party — Beaufort had no excuse for a refusal, 
 such as he could not give without dire offence. 
 
154 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 And, indeed, he was even then obliged to yield to 
 the general voice, and, recalling his own nephew 
 from Normandy, send the Duke of York to defend 
 the remnant of the English conquests. 
 
 He could only insist that the requiem should be 
 the first occasion of the young ladies going out of 
 the convent ; but they had so many visitors there 
 that they had not much cause for murmuring, and 
 the French instructions of Sister Beata did not 
 amount to much, even with Eleanor, while Jean 
 loudly protested that she was not going to school. 
 
 The great day of the requiem came at last. The 
 Cardinal had, throuQ-h Sir Patrick Drummond and 
 the Lady, provided handsome robes of black and 
 purple for his nieces, and likewise palfreys for their 
 conveyance to Westminster ; and made it under- 
 stood that unless Lady Joanna submitted to be 
 completely veiled he should send a closed litter. 
 
 ' The doited auld carle ! ' she cried, as she un- 
 
V THE MEEK USUEPER 155 
 
 willinoiy hooded and veiled herself. ' One would 
 think we were basilisks to slay the good folk of 
 London with our eyes.' 
 
 The Drummond following, with fresh thyme 
 sprays, beginning to turn brown, were drawn up in 
 the outer court, all with black scarves across the 
 breast — George Douglas among them, of course — 
 and they presently united with the long train of 
 clerks who belono-ed to the household of the Cardinal 
 of Winchester. Jean managed her veil so as to get 
 more than one peep at the throng in the streets 
 through which they passed, so as to see and to be 
 seen ; and she was disappointed that no acclamations 
 greeted the fair face thus displayed by fits. She did 
 not understand English politics enough to know that 
 a Beaufort face and Beaufort train were the last 
 things the London crowd was likely to applaud. 
 They had not forgotten the penance of the popular 
 Duke Humfrey's wife, which, justly or unjustly, 
 
156 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 was imputed to the Cardinal and his nephews of 
 Somerset. 
 
 But the King, in robes of purple and black, came 
 to assist her from her palfrey before the beautiful 
 entry of the Abbey Church, and led her up the nave 
 to the desks prepared around what was then termed 
 ' a herce,' but which would now be called a cata- 
 falque, an erection supposed to contain the body, 
 and adorned with the lozenges of the arms of Scot- 
 land and Beaufort, and of the Stewart, in honour 
 of the Black Knight of Lorn. 
 
 The Cardinal was present, but the Abbot of 
 Westminster celebrated. All was exceedingly solemn 
 and beautiful, in a far different style from the 
 maimed rites that had been bestowed upon poor 
 Queen Joanna in Scotland. The young King's face 
 was more angelic than ever, and as psalm and 
 supplication, dirge and hymn arose, chanted by the 
 full choir, speaking of eternal peace, Eleanor bowed 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 157 
 
 her head under her veil, as her bosom swelled with 
 a strange yearning longing, not exactly grief, and 
 large tears dropped from her eyes as she thought 
 less of her mother than of her noble-hearted father ; 
 and the words came back to her in which Father 
 Malcolm Stewart, in his own bitter grief, had told 
 the desolate children to remember that their father 
 was waiting for them in Paradise. Even Jean was 
 so touched by the music and carried out of herself 
 that she forgot the spectators, forgot the effect she 
 was to produce, forgot her struggle with her uncle, 
 and sobbed and wept with all her heart, perhaps 
 with the more abandon because she, like all the rest, 
 was fasting^. 
 
 With much reverence for her emotion, the Kinor, 
 when the service was over, led her out of the church 
 to the adjoining palace, where the Queen of Wight 
 and the Countess of Suffolk, a kinswoman through 
 the mother of the Beauforts, conducted the ladies to 
 
158 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 unveil themselves before they were to join the noon- 
 tide refection with the King. 
 
 There was no great state about it, spread, as it 
 was, not in the great hall, but in the richly -tapestried 
 room called Paradise. The King's manner was most 
 gently and sweetly courteous to both sisters. His 
 three little orphan half-brothers, the Tudors, were at 
 table; and his kind care to send them dainties, and 
 the look with which he repressed an unseasonable 
 attempt of Jasper's to play with the dogs, and 
 Edmund's roughness with little Owen, reminded the 
 sisters of Mary with ' her weans,' and they began to 
 speak of them when the meal was over, while he 
 showed them his chief treasures, his books. There 
 was St. Augustine's City of God, exquisitely copied ; 
 there was the History of St. Louis, by the bon Sire 
 deJoinville; there were Sir John Froissart's C7wwwc/g5, 
 the same that the good Canon had presented to King 
 Eichard of Bordeaux. 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 159 
 
 Jean cast a careless glance at the illumina- 
 tions, and exclaimed at Queen Isabel's high head- 
 gear and her becloaked greyhound. Eleanor looked 
 and longed, and sighed that she could not read 
 the French, and only a very little of the 
 Latin. 
 
 ' This you can read,' said Henry, producing the 
 Canterbury Tales ; ' the fair minstrelsy of my Lady 
 of Suffolk's grandsire.' 
 
 Eleanor was enchanted. Here were the lines the 
 King of Wight had repeated to her, and she was soon 
 eagerly listening as Henry read to her the story of 
 ' Patient GriselL' 
 
 ' Ah ! but is it well thus tamely to submit ? ' she 
 asked. 
 
 ' Patience is the armour and conquest of 
 the godly,' said Henry, quoting a saying that 
 was to serve ' the meek usurper ' well in after- 
 times. 
 
160 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' May not patience go too far ? ' said Eleanor. 
 
 ' In this world, mayhap/ said he ; ' scarcely so 
 in that which is to come.' 
 
 ' I would not be the King's bride to hear him say 
 so/ laughed the Lady of Suffolk. ' ShaU I tell her, 
 my lord, that this is your Grace's ladder to carry her 
 to heaven ? ' 
 
 Henry blushed like a girl, and said that he trusted 
 
 never to be so lacking in courtesy as the knight ; 
 
 and the King of Wight, wishing to change the 
 
 subject, mentioned that the Lady Eleanor had sung 
 
 or said certain choice ballads, and Henry eagerly 
 
 entreated for one. It was the pathetic 'Wife of 
 
 Usher's Well ' that Eleanor chose, with the three 
 
 sons whose hats were wreathen with the birk that 
 
 ' Neither grew in dyke nor ditch, 
 Nor vet in any shaugh, 
 But at the gate.« of Paradise 
 That birk grew fair eneugh.' 
 
 Henry was greatly delighted with the verse, and 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 161 
 
 entreated her, if it were not tedious, to repeat it over 
 
 again. 
 
 In return lie promised to lend her some of the 
 translations from the Latin of Lydgate, the Monk of 
 Bury, and sent them, wrapped in a silken necker- 
 chief, by the hands of one of his servants to the 
 convent. 
 
 ' Was that a token ? ' anxiously asked young 
 Douglas, riding up to David Drummond, as they got 
 into order to ride back to Winchester House, after 
 escorting the ladies to St. Helen's. 
 
 ' Token ! N'o ; 'tis a book for Lady Eileen. 
 Never fash yourself, man ; the King, so far as I 
 might judge, is far more taken with Eileen than 
 ever he is with Jean. He seems but a bookish sort 
 of bodie of Malcolm's sort.' 
 
 *My certie, an' that be sae, we may look to 
 winning back Eoxburgh and Berwick ! ' returned the 
 Douglas, his eye flashing. ' He's welcome to Lady 
 
 VOL. I M 
 
162 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 Eileen ! But that ane should look at her in presence 
 of her sister ! He maun be mair of a monk than a 
 man !' 
 
 Such was, in truth, Jean's own opinion when she 
 flounced into her chamber at the Priory and turned 
 upon her sister. 
 
 ' Weel, Eileen, and I hope ye've had your will, 
 and are a bit shamed, taking up his Grace so that 
 none by yersell could get in a word wi' him.' 
 
 ' Deed, Jeanie, I could not help it ; if he would 
 ask me about our ballants and bulks, that ye would 
 never lay your mind to ' 
 
 ' Ballants and bulks ! Bonnie gear for a king that 
 should be thinking of spears and jacks, lances and 
 honours. Ye're welcome to him, Eileen, sin ye choose 
 to busk your cockernonny at ane that's as good as 
 wedded ! I'll never have the man who's wanting 
 the strick of carle hemp in the making of liim ! ' 
 
 Eleanor biu'st into tears and pleaded that she was 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 163 
 
 incapable of any such intentions towards a man who 
 was truly as good as married. She declared that 
 she had only replied as courtesy required, and that 
 she would not have her harp taken to Warwick 
 House the next day, as she had been requested 
 to do. 
 
 Dame Lilias here interposed. With a certain 
 conviction that Jean's dislike to the King was chiefly 
 because the grapes were sour, she declared that Lady 
 Eileen had by no means gone beyond the demeanour 
 of a douce maiden, and that the King had only 
 shown due attention to guests of his own rank, and 
 who were nearly of his own age. In fact, she said, 
 it might be his caution and loyalty to his espoused 
 lady that made him avoid distinguishing the 
 fairest. 
 
 It was not complimentary to Eleanor, but Jean's 
 superior beauty was as much an established fact as 
 her age, and she was pacified in some degree, agree- 
 
164 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ing with the Lady of Glenuskie that Eleanor was 
 bound to take her harp the next day. 
 
 Warwick House was a really magnificent place, 
 its courts, gardens, and offices covering much of the 
 ground that still bears the name in the City, and 
 though the establishment was not quite as extensive 
 as it became a few years later, when Eichard Nevil 
 had succeeded his brother-in-law, it was already on 
 a magnificent scale. 
 
 All the party who had travelled together from 
 Fotheringay were present, besides the King, young 
 Edmund and Jasper Tudor, and the Earl and 
 Countess of Suffolk; and the banquet, though not 
 a state one, nor encumbered with pageants and 
 subtilties, was even more refined and elegant than 
 that at Westminster, showing, as all agreed, the 
 hand of a mistress of the household. The King's 
 taste had been consulted, for in the gallery were the 
 children of St. Paul's choir and of the cliapel of the 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 165 
 
 household, who sang hymns with sweet trained 
 voices. Afterwards, on the beautiful October after- 
 noon, there was walking in the garden, where 
 Edmund and Jasper played with little Lady Anne 
 Beauchamp, and again King Henry sought out 
 Eleanor, and they had an enjoyable discussion of 
 the Tcde of Troie, which he had lent her, as they 
 walked along the garden paths. Then she showed 
 him her cousin Malcolm, and told of Bishop 
 Kennedy and the schemes for St. Andrews, and 
 he in return described Winchester College, and 
 spoke of his wish to have such another foundation 
 as Wykeham's under his own eye near Windsor, to 
 train up the godly clergy, whom he saw to be the 
 great need and lack of the Church at that day. 
 
 By and by, on going in from the garden, the 
 King and Eleanor found that a tall, gray-haired 
 gentleman, richly but darkly clad, had entered the 
 hall. He had been welcomed by the young King 
 
166 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 and Queen of Wight, who had introduced Jean to 
 him. ' My uncle of Gloucester,' said the King, aside. 
 ' It is the first time he has come among us since the 
 unhappy affair of his wife. Let me present you to 
 him.' 
 
 Going forward, as the Duke rose to meet him, 
 Henry bent his knee and asked his fatherly bless- 
 ing, then introduced the Lady Eleanor of Scotland 
 — ' who knows all lays and songs, and loves letters, 
 as you told me her blessed father did, my fair uncle,' 
 he said, with sparkling eyes. 
 
 Duke Humfrey looked well pleased as he greeted 
 her. ' Ever the scholar, Nevoy Hal,' he said, as if 
 marvelling at the preference above the beauty, ' but 
 each man knows his own mind. So best.' Eleanor's 
 heart began to beat high ! What did this bode ? 
 Was this King fully pledged ? She had to fulfil 
 her promise of singing and playing to the King, 
 which she did very sweetly, some of the pathetic 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 167 
 
 airs of her country, which reach back much farther 
 than the songs with which they have in later times 
 been associated. The King thoroughly enjoyed the 
 music, and the Duke of York came and paid her 
 several compliments, begging for the song she had 
 once begun at Fotheringay. Eleanor began — not per- 
 haps so willingly as before. Strangely, as she sang — 
 
 ' Owre muckle bhnking blindeth the ee, lass, 
 Owre muckle thinking changeth the mind,' — 
 
 her face and voice altered. Something of the same 
 mist of tears and blood seemed to rise before her 
 eyes as before — enfolding all around. Such a 
 winding-sheet whioh had before enwrapt the King 
 of Wight, she saw it again — nay, on the Duke 
 of Gloucester there was such another, mounting 
 — mounting to his neck. The face of Henry him- 
 self grew dim and ghastly white, like that of a 
 marble saint. She kept herself from screaming, but 
 her voice broke down, and she gave a choking sob. 
 
168 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 King Henry's arm was the first to support her, 
 though she shuddered as he touched her, calling for 
 essences, and lamenting that they had asked too 
 much of her in bes^sfincr her to sinsj what so 
 reminded her of her home and parents. 
 
 ' She hath been thus before. It was that song,' 
 said Jean, and the Lady of Glenuskie coming up at 
 the same time confirmed the idea, and declined all 
 help except to take her back to the Priory. The 
 litter that had brought the Countess of Salisbury 
 was at the door, and Henry would not be denied 
 the leading her to it. She was recovering herself, 
 and could see the extreme sweetness and solicitude 
 of his face, and feel that she had never before leant 
 on so kind and tender a supporting arm, since she 
 had sat on her father's knee. ' Ah ! sir, you mind 
 me of my blessed father,' she said, 
 
 ' Your father was a holy man, and died well- 
 nigh a martyr's death,' said Henry. ' 'Tis an honour 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 169 
 
 I thank you for to even me to him — such as 
 I am.' 
 
 ' Oh, sh' ! the saints guard you from such a fate/ 
 she said, trembling. 
 
 * Was it so sad a fate — to die for the good he 
 could not work in his life ? ' said Henry. 
 
 They had reached the arch into the court. A 
 crowd was round them, and no more could be said. 
 Henry kissed Eleanor's hand, as he assisted her 
 into the litter, and she was shut in between the 
 curtains, alone, for it only held one person. There 
 was a strange tumult of feeling. She seemed lifted 
 into a higher region, as if she had been in contact 
 with an angel of purity, and yet there was that 
 strange sense of awful fate all round, as if Henry 
 were nearer being the martyr than the angel. And 
 was she to share that fate ? The generous young 
 soul seemed to spring forward with the thought 
 that, come what might, it would be hallowed and 
 
170 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 sweetened with such as he ! Yet withal there was 
 a sense of longing to protect and shield him. 
 
 As usual, she had soon quite recovered, but Jean 
 pronounced it ' one of Eileen's megrims — as if she 
 were a Hielander to have second sight.' 
 
 'But/ said the young lady, 'it takes no second 
 sight to spae ill to yonder King. He is not one 
 whose hand will keep his head, and there are those 
 who say that he had best look to his crown, for he 
 hath no more right thereto than I have to be Queen 
 of France ! ' 
 
 ' Fie, Jean, that's treason.' 
 
 ' I'm none of his, nor ever will be I I have too 
 much spirit for a gudeman who cares for nothing 
 but singing his psalter like a friar.' 
 
 Jean was even more of that opinion when, the 
 next day, at York House, only Edmimd and Jasper 
 Tudor appeared with their brother's excuses. He 
 had been obliged to give audience to a messenger 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 171 
 
 from the Emperor. 'Moreover/ added Edmund 
 disconsolately, ' to-morrow he is going to St. Albans 
 for a week's penitence. Harry is always doing 
 penance, I cannot think what for. He never eats 
 marchpane in church — nor rolls balls there.' 
 
 ' I know/ said Jasper sagely. ' I heard the 
 Lord Cardinal rating him for being false to his 
 betrothed — that's the Lady Margaret, you know/ 
 
 ' Ha ! ' said the Duke of York, before whom the 
 two little boys were standing. ' How was that, my 
 little man ? ' 
 
 ' Hush, Jasper/ said Edmund ; ' you do not know.' 
 
 ' But I do, Edmund ; I was in the window all 
 the time. Harry said he did not know it, he only 
 meant all courtesy ; and then the Lord Cardinal 
 asked him if he called it loyalty to his betrothed to 
 'be playing the fool with the Scottish wench. And 
 then Harry stared — like thee, Ned, when thy bolt 
 had hit the Lady of Suffolk : and my Lord went on 
 
172 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 to say that it was perilous to play the fool with a 
 king's sister, and his own niece. Then, for all that 
 Harry is a king and a man grown, he wept like 
 Owen, only not loud, and he went down on his 
 knees, and he cried, " Meet peccata, mea peccata, mea 
 infirmitas," just as he taught me to do at confession. 
 And then he said he would do whatever the Lord 
 Cardinal thought fit, and go and do penance at St. 
 Albans, if he pleased, and not see the lady that 
 sings any more.' 
 
 ' And I say,' exclaimed Edmund, ' what's the 
 good of being a king and a man, if one is to be 
 rated like a babe ? ' 
 
 i;t3 ' So say I, my little man,' returned the Duke, 
 patting him on the head, then adding to his own 
 two boys, ' Take your cousins and play ball with 
 them, or spin tops, or whatever may please them.' 
 
 ' There is the king we have,' quoth Eichard jS'evil, 
 ' to be at the beck of any misproud priest, and 
 
 >»» » >■ i» l l-t^.J-X M <■ 1 I. ».■»»— !!■■ ■ ■ . I »i ...I I .— MMM 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 173 
 
 bewail witli tears a moment's following of his own 
 will, like other men.' 
 
 Most of the company felt such misplaced peni- 
 tence and submission, as they deemed it, beneath 
 contempt ; but while Eleanor had pride enough to 
 hold up her head so that no one might suppose her 
 to be disappointed, she felt a strange awe of the 
 conscientiousness that repented when others would 
 only have felt resentment — relief, perhaps, at not 
 again coming into contact with one so unlike other 
 men as almost to alarm her. 
 
 Jean tossed up her head, and declared that her 
 brother knew better than to let any bishop put him 
 into leading-strings. By and by there was a great 
 outcry among the children, and Edmund Tudor and 
 Edward of York were fighting like a pair of mastiff- 
 puppies because Edward had laughed at King 
 Harry for minding what an old shaveling said. 
 Edward, though the younger, was much the stronger, 
 
174 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 and was decidedly getting the best of it, when he 
 was draf?£red off and sent into seclusion with his 
 tutor for misbehaviour to his guest. 
 
 No one was amazed when the next day the 
 Cardinal arrived, and told his grand-nieces and the 
 Lady of Glenuskie that he had arranged that they 
 should go forward under the escort of the Earl and 
 Countess of Suffolk, who were to start immediately 
 for ISTanci, there to espouse and bring home the 
 King's bride, the Lady Margaret. There was reason 
 to think that the French Eoyal Family would be 
 present on the occasion, as the Queen of France 
 was sister to King Eene of Sicily and Jerusalem, 
 and thus the opportunity of joining their sister was 
 not to be missed by the two Scottish maidens. 
 The Cardinal added that he had undertaken, and 
 made Sir Patrick Drummond understand, that he 
 would be at all charges for his nieces, and further 
 said that merchants with women's gear would 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 175 
 
 presently be sent in, when tliey were to fit them- 
 selves out as befitted their rank for appearance at 
 the wedding. At a sign from him a large bag, 
 jingling heavily, was laid on the table by a clerk in 
 attendance. There was nothino; to be done but to 
 make a low reverence and return thanks. 
 
 Jean had it in her to break out with ironical 
 hopes that they would see something beyond the 
 walls of a priory abroad, and not be ordered off the 
 moment any one cast eyes on them; but my Lord 
 of Winchester was not the man to be impertinent 
 to, especially when bringing gifts as a kindly uncle, 
 and when, moreover. King Henry had the bad taste 
 to be more occupied with her sister than with 
 herself. 
 
 It was Eleanor who chiefly felt a sort of repug- 
 nance to being thus, as it were, bought off or com- 
 pensated for being sent out of reach. She could 
 have found it in her heart to be offended at being 
 
176 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 thought likely to wish to steal the King's heart, 
 and yet flattered by being, for the first time, 
 considered as dangerous, even while her awe, alike 
 of Henry's holiness and of those strange visions 
 that had haunted her, made her feel it a relief that 
 her lot was not to be cast with him. 
 
 The Cardinal did not seem to wish to prolong 
 the interview with his gratid-nieces, having perhaps 
 a certain consciousness of injury towards them ; and, 
 after assuring brilliant marriages for them, and 
 graciously blessing them, he bade them farewell, 
 saying that the Lady of Suffolk would come and 
 arrange with them for the journey. No doubt, 
 though he might have been glad to place a niece 
 on the throne, it would have been fatal to the 
 peace he so much desired for Henry to break his 
 pledges to so near a kinswoman of the King of 
 France. And when the bag was opened, and the 
 rouleaux of gold and silver crowns displayed, his 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 177 
 
 liberality contradicted the current stories of his 
 avarice. 
 
 And by and by arrived a succession of merchants 
 bringing horned hoods, transparent veils, like wings, 
 supported on wire projections, long trained dresses 
 of silk and sendal, costly stomachers, bands of velvet, 
 buckles set with precious stones, chains of gold and 
 silver — all the fashions, in fact, enough to turn the 
 head of any young lady, and in which the staid 
 Lady Prioress seemed to take quite as much interest 
 as if she had been to wear them herself — indeed, 
 she asked leave to send Sister Mabel to fetch a 
 selection of the older nuns given to needlework and 
 embroidery to enjoy the exhibition, though it was 
 to be carefully kept out of sight of the younger ones, 
 and especially of the novices. 
 
 The excitement was enough to put the Cardinal's 
 
 offences out of mind, while the delightful fitting and 
 
 trying on occupied the maidens, who looked at 
 VOL. I N 
 
178 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 themselves in the little hand -mirrors held up to 
 them by the admiring nuns, and demanded every 
 one's opinion. Jean insisted that Annis should 
 have her share, and Eleanor joined in urging it, 
 when Dame Lilias shook her head, and said that 
 was not the use the Lord Cardinal intended for his 
 gold. 
 
 ' He gave it to us to do as we would with it,' 
 argued Eleanor. 
 
 'And she is our maiden, and it befits us not 
 that she should look like ane scrub,' added Jean, 
 in the words used by her brother's descendant, a 
 century later. 
 
 ' I thank you, noble cousins,' replied Annis, with 
 a little haughtiness, ' but Davie would never thole 
 to see me pranking it out of English gold.' 
 
 ' She is right, Jeanie,' cried Eleanor. ' We will 
 make her braw with what we bought at York with 
 gude Scottish gold.' 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 179 
 
 ' All the more just/ added Jean, ' that she helped 
 lis in our need with her ain.' 
 
 * And we are sib — near cousins after a',' added 
 Eleanor ; ' so we may well give and take.' 
 
 So it was settled, and all was amicable, except 
 that there was a slight contest between the sisters 
 whether they should dress alike, as Eleanor wished, 
 while Jean had eyes and instinct enough to see that 
 the colours and forms that set her fair complexion 
 and flaxen tresses off to perfection were damaging 
 to Eileen's freckles and general auburn colouring. 
 Hitherto the sisters had worn only what they could 
 get, happy if they could call it ornamental, and the 
 power of choice was a novelty to them. At last 
 the decision fell to the one who cared most about 
 it, namely Jean. Eileen left her to settle for both, 
 being, after the first dazzling display, only eager to 
 get back again to Saint Marie Maudelin before the 
 King should reclaim it. 
 
180 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 There was something in the legend, wild and 
 apocryphal as it is, together with what she had seen 
 of the King, that left a deep impression upon her. 
 
 *And by these things ye understand maun 
 
 The three best things which this Mary chose, 
 As outward penance and inward contemplation, 
 
 And upward bliss that never shall cease, 
 Of which God said withouten bees 
 
 That the best part to her chose Mary, 
 Which ever shall endure and never decrease. 
 
 But with her abideth eternally.' 
 
 J* 
 Stiff, quaint, and awkward sounds old Bokenham's 
 
 translation of the ' Golden Legend,' but to Eleanor 
 
 it had much power. The whole history was new to 
 
 her, after her life in Scotland, where information had 
 
 been slow to reach her, and books had been few. 
 
 The gewgaws spread out before Jean were to her 
 
 like the gloves, jewels, and braiding of hair with 
 
 which Martha reproached her sister in the days of 
 
 her vanity, and the cloister with its calm services 
 
 might well seem to her like the better part. These 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 181 
 
 nuns indeed did not strike her as models of devotion, 
 and there was something in the Prioress's easy way of 
 declaring that being safe there might prevent any need 
 of special heed, which rung false on her ear ; and then 
 she thought of King Henry, whose rapt countenance 
 had so much struck her, turning aside from enjoy- 
 ment to seclude himself at the first hint that his 
 pleasure might be a temptation. She recollected 
 too what Lady Drummond had told her of Father 
 Malcolm and Mother Clare, and how each had 
 renounced the world, which had so much to offer 
 them, and chosen the better part ! She remembered 
 Father Malcolm's sweet smile and kind words, and 
 Mother Clare's face had impressed her deeply with 
 its lofty peace and sweetness. How much better 
 than all these agitations about ]3rincely bridegrooms ! 
 and broken lances and queens of beauty seemed to 
 fade into insignificance, or to be only incidents in 
 the tumult of secular life and worldly struggle, and 
 
182 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 her spirit quailed at the anticipation of the journey 
 she had once desired, the gay court with its follies, 
 empty show, temptations, coarsenesses and cruelties, 
 and the strange land with its new language. The 
 alternative seemed to her from Maudelin in her 
 worldly days to Maudelin at the Saviour's feet, and 
 had Mother Margaret Stafford been one whit more 
 the ideal nun, perhaps every one would have been 
 perplexed by a vehement request to seclude herself 
 at once in the cloister of St. Helen's. 
 
 Looking up, she saw a figure slowly pacing the 
 turf walk. It was the Mother Clare, who had come 
 to see the Lady of Glenuskie, but finding all so deeply 
 engaged, had gone out to await her in the garden. 
 ]\iuch indeed had Dame Lilias longed to join her 
 friend, and make the most of these precious hours, 
 but as purse-bearer and adviser to her Lady Joanna, 
 it was impossible to leave her till the arrangements 
 with the merchants were over. And the nuns of 
 
V THE MEEK USUKPER 183 
 
 St. Helen's did not, as has already been seen, think 
 much of an uncloistered sister. In her twenty 
 years' toils among the poor it had been pretty well 
 forgotten that Mother Clare was Esclairmonde de 
 Luxembourg, almost of princely rank, so that no one 
 took the trouble to entertain her, and she had slipped 
 out almost unperceived to the quiet garden with its 
 grass walks. And there Eleanor came up to her, 
 and with glistening tears, on a sudden impulse 
 exclaimed, ' Oh, holy Mother, keep me with you, tell 
 me to choose the better part.' 
 
 ' You, lady ? What is this ? ' 
 
 ' Not lady, daughter — help me ! I kenned it 
 not before — but all is vanity, turmoil, false show, 
 except the sitting at the Lord's feet.' 
 
 ' Most true, my child. Ah ! have I not felt the 
 same? But we must wait His time.' 
 
 ' It was I — it was I,' continued Eleanor, ' who 
 set Jean upon this journey, leaving my brother and 
 
184 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 Mary and the bairns. And the farther we go, the 
 more there is of vain show and plotting and 
 scheming, and I am weary and heartsick and home- 
 sick of it all, and shall grow worse and worse. Oh ! 
 shelter me here, in your good and holy house, dear 
 Eeverend Mother, and maybe I conld learn to do the 
 holy work you do in my own country.' 
 
 How well Esclairmonde knew it all, and what 
 aspirations had been hers ! She took Eileen's hand 
 kindly and said, 'Dear maid, I can only aid you 
 by words ! I could not keep you here. Your 
 uncle the Cardinal would not suffer you to abide 
 here, nor can I take sisters save by consent of the 
 Queen — and now we have no Queen, of the King, 
 and ' 
 
 ' Oh no, I could not ask that,' said Eleanor, a 
 deep blush mounting, as she remembered what con- 
 struction might be put on her desire to remain in 
 the King's neighbourhood. ' Ah ! then must I go 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 185 
 
 on — on — on farther from home to that Court which 
 they say is full of sin and evil and vanity ? What 
 will become of me ? ' 
 
 ' If the religious life be good for you, trust me, 
 the way will open, however unlikely it may seem. 
 If not, Heaven and the saints will show what your 
 course should be.' 
 
 ' But can there be such safety and holiness, save 
 in that higher path ? ' demanded Eleanor. 
 
 'N'ay, look at your own kinswoman, Dame 
 Lilias — look at the Lady of Salisbury. Are not these 
 godly, faithful women serving God through their 
 duty to man — husband, children, all around ? And 
 are the longings and temptations to worldly thoughts 
 and pleasures of .the flesh so wholly put away in the 
 cloister ? ' 
 
 'Not here,' began Eleanor, but Mother Clare 
 hushed her. 
 
 ' Verily, my child,' she added, ' you must go on 
 
186 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 with your sister on this journey, trusting to the 
 care and guidance of so good a woman as my beloved 
 old friend, Dame Lilias ; and if you say your 
 prayers with all your heart to be guarded from sin 
 and temptation, and led into the path that is fittest 
 for you, trust that our blessed Master and our Lady 
 will lead you. Have you the Pater Noster in the 
 vulcjar tonsfue ? ' she added. 
 
 'We — we had it once ere my father's death. 
 And Father Malcolm taught us ; but we have since 
 been so cast about that — that — I have forgotten.' 
 
 ' Ah ! Father Malcolm taught you,' and 
 Esclairmonde took the girl's hand. ' You know how 
 much I owe to Father Malcolm,' she softly added, 
 as she led the maiden to a carved rood at the end 
 of the cloister, and, before it, repeated the vernacular 
 version of the Lord's Prayer till Eleanor knew it 
 perfectly, and promised to follow up her ' Pater 
 Nosters' with it. 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 187 
 
 And from that time there certainly was a different 
 tone and spirit in Eleanor. 
 
 David, urged by his father, who still publicly 
 ignored the young Douglas, persuaded him to write 
 to his father now that there could be no longer any 
 danger of pursuit ; and the messenger Sir Patrick 
 was sending to the King would afford the last 
 opportunity. George growled and groaned a good 
 deal, but perhaps Father Eomuald pressed the duty 
 on him in confession, for in his great relief at his 
 lady's going off unplighted from London, he consented 
 to indite, in the chamber Father Eomuald shared 
 with two of the Cardinal's chaplains, in a crooked 
 and crabbed calligraphy and language much more 
 resembling Anglo-Saxon than modern English, a 
 letter to the most high and mighty, the Yerl of 
 Angus, ' these presents.' 
 
 But when he was entreated to assume his right 
 position in the troop, he refused. ' Na, na, Davie,' 
 
188 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 he said, ' gin my father chooses to send me gear and 
 following, 'tis all very weel, but 'tisna for the credit 
 of Scotland nor of Angus that the Master should be 
 ganging about like a land-louper, with a single laddie 
 after him — still less that he should be beholden to 
 the Drummonds.' 
 
 'Ye would win to the speech of the lassie,' 
 suggested David, ' gin that be what ye want ! ' 
 
 ' Na kenning me, she willna look at me. Wait 
 till I do that which may gar her look at me,' said 
 the chivalrous youth. 
 
 He was not entirely without means, for the links 
 of a gold chain which he had brought from home 
 went a good way in exchange, and though he had 
 spoken of being at his own charges, he had found 
 himself compelled to live as one of the train of the 
 princesses, who were treated as the guests first of 
 the Duke of York, then of the Cardinal, who had 
 given Sir Patrick a sum sufficient to defray all 
 
V THE MEEK USURPER 189 
 
 possible expenses as far as Bourges, besides having 
 arranged for those of the journey with Suffolk whose 
 rank had been raised to that of a Marquis, in 
 honour of his activity as proxy for the King. 
 
CHAPTEE VI 
 
 THE PKICE OF A GOOSE 
 
 ' We would have all such offenders cut off, and we give express 
 charge that, in the marches through the country, there be nothing 
 compelled from the villages. ' — King Heiiry V. 
 
 The Marquis of Suffolk's was a slow progress both 
 in England and. abroad, with many halts both on 
 account of weather and of feasts and festivals. 
 Cardinal Beaufort had hurried the party away from 
 London partly in order to make the match with 
 Margaret of Anjou irrevocable, partly for the sake 
 of removing Eleanor of Scotland, the only maiden 
 who had ever produced the slightest impression on 
 the monastic-minded Henry of Windsor. 
 
 When once out of London there were, however, 
 numerous halts on the road, — two or three days of 
 
CHAP. VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 191 
 
 entertainment at every castle, and then a long delay 
 at Canterbury to give time for Suffolk's retainers, 
 and all the heralds, pursuivants, and other adjuncts 
 of pomp and splendour, to join them. They were 
 the guests of Archbishop Stafford, one of the peace 
 party, and a friend of Beaufort and Suffolk, so that 
 their entertainment was costly and magnificent, as 
 befitted the mediaeval notions of a high-born gentle- 
 man, Primate of all England. A great establishment 
 for the chase was kept by almost all prelates as a 
 necessity; and whenever the weather was favourable, 
 hunting and hawking could be enjoyed by the 
 princesses and their suite. Indeed Jean, if not in 
 the saddle, was pretty certain to be visiting the 
 hawks all the morning, or else playing at ball or 
 some other sport with her cousins or some of the 
 young gentlemen of Suffolk's train, who were all 
 devoted to her. 
 
 Lady Drummond found that to try to win her to 
 
192 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 quieter occupations was in vain. The girl would 
 not even try to learn French from Father Eomuald 
 by reading, though she would pick up words and 
 phrases by laughing and chattering with the young 
 knights who chanced to know the language. But as 
 by this time Dame Lilias had learnt that there were 
 bounds that princely pride and instinct prevented 
 from overpassing, she contented herself with seeing 
 that there was fit attendance, either by her daughter 
 Annis, Sir Patrick himself, or one or other of Lady 
 Suffolk's ladies. 
 
 To some decree Eleanor shared in her sister's 
 outdoor amusements, but she was far more disposed 
 to exercise her mind than her body. After having 
 pined in weariness for want of intellectual food, her 
 opportunities were delightful to her. Xot only did 
 she read with Father Eomuald with intense interest 
 the copy of the Ion Sire Jean Froissart in the original, 
 which he borrowed from the Archbishop's library. 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 193 
 
 but she listened with great zest to the readings 
 which the Lady of Suffolk extracted from her 
 chaplains and unwilling pages while the ladies sat 
 at work, for the Marchioness, a grandchild of Geoffrey 
 Chaucer, had a strong taste for literature. More- 
 over, from one of the choir Eleanor obtained lessons 
 on the lute, as well as her beloved harp, and was 
 taught to train her voice, and sing from 'pricke- 
 song,' so that she much enjoyed this period of her 
 journey. 
 
 Nothing could be more courteous and punctilious 
 than the Marquis of Suffolk to the two princesses, 
 and indeed to every one of his own degree; but 
 there was something of the parvenu about him, and, 
 unlike the Duke of York or Archbishop Stafford, 
 who were free, bright, and good-natured to the 
 meanest persons, he was haughty and harsh to every 
 one below the line of gentle blood, and in his own 
 train he kept up a discipline, not too strict in itself, 
 
 VOL. I 
 
194 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 but ffallinfy in the manner in which it was enforced 
 by those who imitated his example. By the time 
 the suite was collected, Christmas and the festival 
 of St. Thomas a Becket were so near that it would 
 have been neglect of a popular saint to have left his 
 shrine without keeping his day. And after the 
 Epiphany, though the party did reach Dover in a 
 day's ride, a stormy period set in, putting crossing 
 out of the question, and detaining the suite within 
 the massive walls of the castle. 
 
 At last, on a brisk, windless day of frost, the 
 crossing to Calais was effected, and there was another 
 week of festivals spread by the hospitality of the 
 Captain of Calais, where everything was as English 
 as at Dover. When they again started on their 
 journey, Suftblk severely insisted on the closest order, 
 riding as travellers in a hostile country, where a 
 misadventure might easily break the existing truce, 
 although the territories of the Duke of Burgundv, 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 195 
 
 through which their route chiefly lay, were far less 
 unfavourable to the English than actual French 
 countries ; indeed, the Flemings were never willingly 
 at war with the English, and some of the Burgundian 
 nobles and knights had been on intimate terms with 
 Suffolk. Still, he caused the heralds always to keep 
 in advance, and allowed no stragglers behind the rear- 
 guard that came behind the long train of waggons 
 loaded with much kitchen apparatus, and with 
 splendid gifts for the bride and her family, as well 
 as equipments for the wedding-party, and tents for 
 such of the troop as could not find shelter in the 
 hostels or monasteries where the slowly-moving party 
 halted for the night. It was unsafe to go on after 
 the brief hours of daylight, especially in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the Forest of Ardennes, for wolves 
 might be near on the winter nights. It was thus that 
 the first trouble arose with Sir Patrick Drummond's 
 two volunteer followers. Eingan Eaefoot had be- 
 
196 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 come in his progress a very different looking being 
 from the wild creature who had come with ' Geordie 
 of the Eed Peel/ but there was the same heart in 
 him. He had endured obedience to the Knight of 
 Glenuskie as a Scot, and with the Duke of York 
 and through England the discipline of the troop had 
 not been severe ; but Suffolk, though a courtly, 
 chivalrous gentleman to his equals, had not the 
 qualities of popularity, and chafed his inferiors. 
 
 There were signs of confusion in the cavalcade 
 as they passed between some of the fertile fields of 
 Namur, and while Suffolk was halting and about to 
 send a squire to the rear to interfere, a couple of 
 his retainers hurried up, saying, 'My Lord, those 
 Scottish thieves will bring the whole country down 
 on us if order be not taken with them.' 
 
 Sir Patrick did not need the end of the speech 
 to gallop off at full speed to the rear of all the 
 waggons, where a crowd might be seen, and there 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 197 
 
 was a perfect Babel of tongues, rising in only too 
 intelligible shouts of rage. Swords and lances were 
 flashing on one side among the horsemen, on the 
 other stones were flying from an ever -increasing 
 number of leather- jerkined men and boys, some of 
 them with long knives, axes, and scythes. 
 
 George Douglas's high head seemed to be the 
 main object of attack, and he had Kingan Eaefoot 
 before him across his horse, apparently retreating, 
 while David, Malcolm, and a few more made charges 
 on the crowd to guard him. When he was seen, 
 there was a cry of which he could distinguish nothing 
 but ' Eingan ! Geordie ! goose — Flemish hounds.' 
 
 Eiding between, regardless of the stones, he 
 shouted in the Burgundian French he had learnt in 
 liis campaigns, to demand the cause of the attack. 
 The stones ceased, and the head man of the village, 
 a stout peasant, came forward and complained that 
 the varlet, as he called Eingan, had been stealing 
 
198 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 the village geese on their pond, and when they were 
 about to do justice on him, yonder man-at-arms had 
 burst in, knocked down and hurt several, and carried 
 him off. 
 
 Before there had been time for further explana- 
 tion, to Sir Patrick's great vexation, the Marshal of 
 the troo23 and his guard came up, and the complaint 
 was repeated. George, at the same time, having 
 handed Eingan over to some others of the Scots, 
 rode up with his head very high. 
 
 ' Sir Patrick Drummond,' said the Marshal stiffly, 
 * you know my Lord's rules for his followers, as 
 to committing outrages on the villeins of the 
 country.' 
 
 ' We are none of my Lord of Suffolk's following,' 
 began Douglas ; but Sir Patrick, determined to avoid 
 a breach if possible, said — 
 
 ' Sir Marshal, we have as yet heard but one side 
 of the matter. If wrong have been done to these 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 199 
 
 folk, we are ready to offer compensation, but we 
 should hear how it has been ' 
 
 ' Am I to see my poor laddie torn to bits, stoned, 
 and hanged by these savage loons,' cried George, 
 ' for a goose's egg and an old gander ? ' 
 
 Of course his defence was incomprehensible to 
 the Flemings, but on their side a man with a bound- 
 up head and another limping were produced, and the 
 head man spoke of more serious damage to others 
 who could not appear, demanding both the aggressors 
 to be dealt with, i.e. to be hanged on the next tree. 
 
 ' These men are of mine, Master Marshal,' said 
 Sir Patrick. 
 
 ' My Lord can permit no violence by those under 
 his banner,' said the Marshal stiffly. ' I must answer 
 it to him.' 
 
 ' Do so then,' said Sir Patrick. ' This is a matter 
 for him.' 
 
 The Marshal, who had much rather have disj^osed 
 
200 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 of the Scottish thieves on his own responsibility, was 
 forced to give way so far as to let the appeal be 
 carried to the Marquis of Suffolk, telling the Flemings, 
 in something as near their language as he could 
 accomplish, that his Lord was sure to see justice 
 done, and that they should follow and make their 
 complaint. 
 
 Suffolk sat on his horse, tall, upright, and angry. 
 ' What is this I hear, Sir Patrick Drummond,' said 
 he, ' that your miscreants of wild Scots have been 
 thieving from the peaceful peasant -folk, and then 
 beating them and murdering them ? I deemed you 
 were a better man than to stand by such deeds and 
 not give up the fellows to justice.' 
 
 ' It were shame to hang a man for one goose,' 
 said Sir Patrick. 
 
 *A11 plunder is worthy of death,' returned the 
 Englishman. ' Your Border law may be otherwise, 
 but 'tis not our Enolish rule of honest men. And 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 201 
 
 here's this other great lurdane knave been striking 
 the poor rogues down right and left ! A halter fits 
 both.' 
 
 ' My Lord, they are no subjects of England. I 
 deny your rights over them.' 
 
 . ' Whoever rides in my train is under me, I would 
 have you to know, sir.' 
 
 'Hark ye, my Lord of Suffolk,' said Sir Patrick, 
 coming near enough to speak in an undertone, ' that 
 lurdane, as you call him, is heir of a noble house in 
 Scotland, come here on a young man's freak of 
 chivalry. You will do no service to the peace of 
 the realms if you give him up to these churls, for 
 making in to save his servant.' 
 
 Before Sir Patrick had done speaking, while 
 Suffolk was frowning grimly in perplexity, a wild 
 figure, with blood on the face, rushed ' forth with a 
 limping run, crying, ' Let the loons hang me and 
 welcome, if they set such store by their lean old 
 
202 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 gander, but they shanna lay a finger on the 
 Master.' 
 
 And he had nearly precipitated himself into the 
 hands of the sturdy rustics, who shouted with exult- 
 ation, but with two strides Geordie caught him up. 
 ' Peace, Eingan ! They shall no more hang thee 
 than me,' and he stood with one hand on Eingan's 
 shoulder and his sword in the other, looking defiant. 
 
 ' If he be a young gentleman masking, I am 
 not bound to know it,' said Suffolk impatiently to 
 Drummond ; ' but if he will give up that rascal, and 
 make compensation, I will overlook it.' 
 
 ' Who touches my fellow does so at his peril/ 
 shouted George, menacing with his sword. 
 
 ' Peace, young man ! ' said Sir Patrick. ' Look 
 here, my Lord of Suffolk, we Scots are none of your 
 men. We need no favour of you English with our 
 allies. There be enough of us to make our way 
 through these peasants to the French border, so 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 203 
 
 unless you let us settle the matter with a few crowns 
 to these rascallions, we part company.' 
 
 ' The ladies were entrusted to my charge/ began 
 Lord Suffolk. 
 
 At that instant, however, both Jean and Eleanor 
 came on the scene, riding fast, having in truth been 
 summoned by Malcolm, who shrewdly suspected 
 that thus an outbreak might be best averted. 
 
 It was Eleanor who spoke first. In spite of all 
 her shyness, when her blood was up, she was all the 
 princess. 
 
 ' What is this, my Lord of Suffolk ? ' she said. 
 ' If one of our following have transgressed, it is the 
 part of ourselves and of Sir Patrick Drummond to 
 see to it, as representing the King my brother.' 
 
 'Lady,' replied Suffolk, bowing low and doffing 
 his cap, 'yonder ill -nurtured knave hath been 
 robbing the country-folk, and the — the man-at-arms 
 there not only refuses to give him up to justice, but 
 
204 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 has hurt, well-nigh slain, some of them in violently 
 taking him from them. They ride in my train and 
 I am responsible.' 
 
 Jean broke in : ' He only served the cowardly 
 loons right. A whole crowd of the rogues to hang 
 one poor laddie for one goose ! Shame on a gentle- 
 man for hearkening to the foul-mouthed villains one 
 moment. Come here, Eingan. King Jamie's sister 
 will never see them harm thee.' 
 
 Perhaps Suffolk was not sorry to see a way out 
 of the perplexity. ' Far be it from a knight to 
 refuse a boon to a fair lady in her selle, farther still 
 to two royal damsels. The lives are granted, so 
 satisfaction in coin be made to yon clamorous 
 hinds.' 
 
 ' I do not call it a boon but a right,' said Eleanor 
 gravely ; ' nevertheless I thank you, my Lord 
 Marquis.' 
 
 George would have thrown himself at their feet, 
 
VI THE PEICE OF A GOOSE 205 
 
 but Jean coldly said, * Spare thanks, sir. It was 
 for my brother's right/ and she turned her horse 
 away, and rode off at speed, while Eleanor could not 
 help pausing to say, 'She is more blithe than she 
 lists to own ! Sir Patrick, what the fellows claim 
 must come from my uncle's travelling purse.' 
 
 George's face was red. This was very bitter to 
 him, but he could only say, ' It shall be repaid so 
 soon as I have the power.' 
 
 The peasants meanwhile were trying to make the 
 best bargain they could by representing that they were 
 tenants of an abbey, so that the death of the gander 
 was sacrilegious on that account as well as because 
 it was in Lent. To this, however. Sir Patrick turned 
 a deaf ear : he threw them a couple of gold pieces, 
 with which, as he told them, they were much better 
 off than with either the live sfoose or the dead Einoan. 
 
 o o 
 
 Suffolk had halted for the mid-day rest and was 
 waiting for him till this matter was disposed of 
 
206 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Sir Patrick Drummond/ he said with some cere- 
 mony, ' this company of yours may be Scottish 
 subjects, but while they are riding with me I am 
 answerable for them. It may be the wont in Scot- 
 land, but it is not with us English, to let unnamed 
 adventurers ride under our banner.' 
 
 'The young man is not unnamed/ said Sir 
 Patrick, on his mettle. 
 
 ' You know him ? ' 
 
 'I'll no say, but I have an inkling. My son 
 David kenn'd him and answered for him when he 
 joined himself to my following ; nor has he hitherto 
 done aught to discredit himself.' 
 
 ' What is his name, or the name he goes by ? ' 
 
 ' George Douglas.' 
 
 ' H'm ! Your Scottish names may belong to any 
 one, from your earls down to your herdboys ; and 
 they, forsooth, are as like as not to call themselves 
 gentlemen.' 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 207 
 
 ' And wherefore not, if theirs is gentle blood ? ' 
 said Sir Patrick. 
 
 ' Nay, now, Sir Patrick, stand not on your Scotch 
 pride. Gentlemen all, if you will, but you gave me 
 to understand that this was none of your barefoot 
 gentlemen, and I ask if you can tell who he 
 truly is ? ' 
 
 ' I have never been told, my Lord, and I had 
 rather you put the question to himself than to me.' 
 
 ' Call him then, an' so please you.' 
 
 Sir Patrick saw no alternative save compliance ; 
 and he found Eingan undergoing a severe rating, 
 not unaccompanied by blows from the wood of his 
 master's lance. The perfect willingness to die for 
 one another was a mere natural incident, but the 
 having transgressed, and caused such a serious scrape, 
 made George very indignant and inflict condign 
 punishment. * Better fed than he had ever been in 
 his life, the rogue' (and he looked it, though he 
 
208 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 muttered, ' A bannock and a sup of barley brose 
 were worth the haill of their greasy beeves ! '). 
 'Better fed than ever before. Couldn't the daft 
 loon keep the hands of him off poor folks' bit goose ? 
 In Lent, too ! ' (by far the gravest part of the 
 offence). 
 
 George did, however, transfer Eingan's exjDlana- 
 tion to Sir Patrick, and make some apology. A 
 nest of goose eggs apparently unowned had been too 
 much for him, incited further by a couple of Eng- 
 lish horseboys, who were willing to share goose eggs 
 for supper, and let the Scotsman bear the wyte of 
 it. The goose had been nearer than expected, and 
 summoned her kin ; the gander had shown fight ; 
 the geese had gabbled, the gooseherd and his kind 
 came to the rescue, the horseboys had made off; 
 Pdngan, impeded by his struggle with the ferocious 
 gander, was caught ; and Geordie had come up just 
 in time to see him pricked with goads and axes 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 209 
 
 to a tree, where a halter was making ready for 
 him. Of course, without asking questions, George 
 hurried to save him, pushing his horse among the 
 angry crew, and striking right and left, and equally 
 of course the other Scots came to his assistance. 
 
 Sir Patrick agreed that he could not have done 
 otherwise, though better things might have been 
 hoped of Eingan by this time. 
 
 ' But,' said he, ' there's not an end yet of the coil. 
 Here has my Lord of Suffolk been speiring after 
 your name and quality, till I told him he must ask 
 at you and not at me.' 
 
 ' Tell'd you the dour meddling Englishman my 
 name ? ' asked George. 
 
 ' I told him only what ye told me yerself. In that 
 there was no lie. But bethink you, royal maidens 
 dinna come to speak for lads without a cause.' 
 
 George's colour mounted high in his sunburnt, 
 freckled cheek. 
 
 VOL. I P 
 
210 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES chap. 
 
 * Kens — ken they, trow ye, Sir Pate ? ' 
 
 ' Cannie folk, even lassies, can ken mair than 
 they always tell,' said the knight of Glenuskie. 
 ' Yonder is my Lord Marquis, as they ca' him ; so 
 bethink you weel how you comport yerself with 
 him, and my counsel is to tell him the full truth. 
 He is a dour man towards underlings, whom he views 
 as made not of the same flesh and blood with him- 
 self, but he is the very pink of courtesy to men of 
 his own degree.' 
 
 ' Set him up,' quoth the heir of the Douglas, with 
 a snort. ' His own degree, indeed ! scarce even a 
 knight's son 1 ' - 
 
 ' What he deems his own degree, then,' corrected 
 Sir Patrick ; ' but he holds himself full of chivalry 
 to them, and loves a spice of the errant knight ; ye 
 may trust his honour. And mind ye,' he added, 
 laughing, ' I've never been told your name and 
 quality.' 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 211 
 
 Wliicli the Master of Angus returned with an 
 equally canny laugh. The young man, as he ap- 
 proached the Marquis, drew his head up, straight- 
 ened his tall form, brushed off the dust that obscured 
 the bloody heart on his breast, and altogether ad- 
 vanced with a step and bearing far more like the 
 great Earl's son than the man-at-arms of the Glen- 
 uskie following ; his eyes bespoke equality or more 
 as they met those of William de la Pole, and yet 
 there was that in the glance which forbade the idea 
 of insolence, so that Suffolk, instead of remaining 
 seated, rose to meet him and took him aside, stand- 
 ing as they talked. 
 
 ' Sir Squire,' he said, ' for such I understand your 
 degree in chivalry to be.' 
 
 ' I have not won my spurs,' said George. 
 
 ' It is not our rule to take to foreign courts 
 gentlemen from another realm unknown to us,' 
 proceeded Suffolk, with much civility ; ' therefore, 
 
212 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 unless any vow of chivalry binds you, I should be 
 glad to know who it is who does my banner the 
 honour of riding in its company for a time. If a 
 secret, it is safe with me.' 
 
 George gave his name. 
 
 ' That is the name of one of the chief nobles in 
 Scotland,' said Suffolk. 'Do I see before me his 
 son ? ' 
 
 George bowed. 
 
 ' Then, my Lord Douglas, am I permitted to ask 
 wherefore this mean disguise ? Is it for some vow 
 of chivalry, or for that which is the guerdon of 
 chivalry ? ' the Marquis added in a lower, softer 
 tone, which, however, extremely chafed the proud 
 young Scot, all the more that he felt himself 
 blushing. 
 
 ' My Lord,' he said, ' I am not bound to render 
 a reason to any save my father, from whom I hope 
 for letters shortly.' 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 213 
 
 To his further provocation Suffolk smiled mean- 
 ingly, and answered — 
 
 ' I understand. But if my Lord Douglas would 
 honour my suite by assuming the place that befits 
 him, I should be happy that aught of mine should 
 serve ' 
 
 ' I am beholden to you, my Lord, for the offer,' 
 replied George, somewhat roughly. 'Whatever I 
 make use of must be my father's or my own. All 
 I crave of you is to keep my secret, and not make 
 me the common talk. Have I your licence to 
 depart ? ' 
 
 Wherewith, tall, irate, and shamefaced, the 
 Master of Angus stalked away to meet David 
 Drummond, to whom he confided his disgusts. 
 
 ' The parlous fulebody ! As though I were like 
 to make myself a mere sport for ballad-mongers, 
 such as Lady Eileen is always mooning after; or as 
 if I would stoop to borrow a following of the Eng- 
 
214 TWO PENNILESS PPJNCESSES CHAP. 
 
 lish blackguard, to bolster up my state like King 
 Herod in a mystery play. If my father lists, he 
 may send me out a band, but the Douglas shall have 
 Douglas's men, or none at all.' 
 
 David approved the sentiment, but added — 
 
 ' Ye could win to Jeanie if ye took your right 
 place.' 
 
 ' What good would that do me while she is full 
 of her fine daf&ng, singing, clacking, English knights, 
 that would only gibe at the red-haired Scot ? Let 
 her wait to see what the Eed DouQ;las's hand can do 
 in time of need ! But, Davie, you that can speak 
 to her, let her know how deeply I thank her for 
 what she did even now on my behalf, or rather on 
 puir Eingan's, and that I am trebly bound to her 
 service though I make no minstrel fule's work.' 
 
 David delivered his message, but did not obtain 
 much by it for his friend's satisfaction, for Jeanie 
 only tossed her head and answered — 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 215 
 
 ' Does the gallant cock up his bonnet because he 
 thinks it was for his sake. It was Eileen's doing 
 there, firstly ; and next, wadna we have done the 
 like for the meanest of Jamie's subjects ? ' 
 
 ' Dinna credit her, Davie,' said Eleanor. ' Ye 
 should have seen her start in her saddle, and wheel 
 round her palfrey at Malcolm's first word.' 
 
 ' It wasna for him,' replied Jean hotly. ' They 
 dinna hang the like of him for twisting a goose's 
 neck ; it was for the puir leal laddie ; and ye may 
 tak' that to him.' 
 
 ' Shall I, Eileen ? ' asked Da^dd, with a twinkle 
 in his eye of cousinly teasing. 
 
 'An' ye do not, I shall proclaim ye in the lists 
 at Nanci as a corbie messenger and mansworn 
 squire, unworthy of your spurs,' threatened Jeanie, 
 in all good humour however. 
 
 Suffolk, baffled in his desire to patronise the 
 young Master of Angus, examined both Sir Patrick 
 
216 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 and Lady Drummond as far as their caution would 
 allow, telling that the youth had confessed his rank 
 and admitted the cause — making inquiry whether 
 the match would be held suitable in Scotland, and 
 why it had not taken place there — a matter difficult 
 to explain, since it did not merely turn upon the 
 young lady's ambition — which would have gone for 
 nothinsf — but on the dano;er to the Crown of offendinsr 
 rival houses. Suffolk had a good deal about him of 
 the flashy side of ' chivalry, and loved its brilliance 
 and romance ; he was an honourable man, and the 
 weak point about him was that he never understood 
 that knighthood should respect men of meaner birth. 
 He was greatly flattered by the idea of having the 
 eldest son of the 2;reat Earl of Auq-us ridinsj as an 
 unknown man-at-arms in his troop, and on the way 
 likewise to the most chivakous of kino-s. His 
 scheme would have been to equip the youth fully 
 with horse and arms, and at some brilliant tourney 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 217 
 
 see him cany all before him, like Du Guesclin in 
 his boyhood, and that the eclat of the affair should 
 reflect itself upon his sponsor. But there were two 
 difficulties in the way — the first that the proud young 
 Scot showed no intention of being beholden to any 
 Englishman, and secondly, that the tall, ungainly youth 
 did not look as if he had attained to the full strength 
 or management of his own limbs ; and though in 
 five or ten years' time he might be a giant in actual 
 warfare, he did not appear at all likely to be a 
 match for the highly-trained champions of the tilt- 
 yard. Moreover, he was not a knight as yet, and 
 on sounding Sir Patrick it was elicited that he was 
 likely to deem it high treason to be dubbed by any 
 hand save that of his Kin2f or his father. 
 
 So the Marquis could only feel sagacious, and 
 utter a hint or two before the ladies which fell the 
 more short, since he was persuaded, by Eleanor's 
 havincy been the foremost in the defence, that she 
 
218 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 was the object of the quest; and he now and then 
 treated her to hints which she was slow to under- 
 stand, but which exasperated while they amused her 
 sister. 
 
 The journey was so slow that it was not until 
 the fourth week in Lent that they were fairly in 
 Lorraine. It had of course been announced by 
 couriers, and at Thionville a very splendid herald 
 reached them, covered all over with the blazonry of 
 Jerusalem and the Two Sicihes, to say nothing of 
 Provence and Anjou. He brought letters from 
 King Eene, explaining that he and his daughters 
 were en route from Provence, and he therefore 
 designated a nunnery where he requested that the 
 Scottish princesses and their ladies would deign to 
 be entertained, and a monastery where my Lord 
 Marquis of Suffolk and his suite would be wel- 
 comed, and where they were requested to remain till 
 Easter week, by which time the King of France, 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 219 
 
 the Daupliin, and Danphiness would be near at 
 hand, and there could be a grand entrance into 
 Xanci. 
 
 Of course there was nothing to be done but to 
 obey, though the Englishmen muttered that the 
 delay was in order to cast the expense upon the 
 rich abbeys, and to muster all the resources of 
 Lorraine and Provence to cover the poverty of the 
 many-titled King. 
 
 The Abbey where the gentlemen were lodged was 
 so near Kanci that it was easy to ride into the city 
 and make inquiries whether any tidings had arrived 
 from Scotland; but nothing had come from thence 
 for either the princesses, Sir Patrick, or Geordie of 
 the Pied Peel, so that the strange situation of the 
 latter must needs continue as long as he insisted on 
 being beholden for nothing to the English upstart, 
 as he scrupled not to call Lord Suffolk, whose new- 
 fashioned French title was an offence in Scottish ears. 
 
220 TWO PENNILESS PEIXCESSES chap. 
 
 The ladies on their side had not the relaxation 
 of these expeditions. The Abbey was a large and 
 wealthy one, but decidedly provincial. Only the 
 Lady Abbess and one sister could speak ' French of 
 Paris,' the others used a dialect so nearly German 
 that Lady Suffolk could barely understand them, 
 and the other ladies, whose French was not strong, 
 could hold no conversation with them. 
 
 To insular minds, whether Scottish or English, 
 every deviation of the Gallican ritual from their 
 own was a sore vexation. If Lady Drummond had 
 devotion enough not to be distracted by the varia- 
 tions, the young ladies certainly had ' not, and Jean 
 very decidedly giggled during some of the most 
 solemn ceremonies, such as the creeping to the cross 
 — the large carved cross in the middle of the grave- 
 yard, to which all in turn went upon their knees on 
 Good Friday and kissed it. 
 
 Last year, at this season, they had been shut up 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 221 
 
 in their prison-castle, and had not shared in any of 
 these ceremonies ; and Eleanor tried to think of 
 King Henry and Sister Esclairmonde, and how they 
 were throwing their hearts into the great thoughts 
 of the day, and she felt distressed at being infected 
 by Jean's suppressed laughter at the movements of 
 the fat Abbess, and at the extraordinary noises made 
 by the younger nuns with clappers, as demonstra- 
 tions against Judas on the way to the Easter 
 Sepulchre. 
 
 She was so much shocked at herself that she 
 wanted to confess ; but Father Eomuald had gone 
 with the male members of the party, and the chap- 
 lain did not half understand her French, though he 
 gave her absolution. 
 
 Meantime all the nuns were preparing Easter 
 eggs, whereof there was a great exchange the next 
 day, when the mass was as splendid as the resources 
 of the Abbey could furnish, and all were full of 
 
222 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 joy and congratulation, the sense of oneness for once 
 inspiring all. 
 
 Moreover, after mass, Sir Patrick and an English- 
 man rode over with tidings that King Eene had 
 sent a messenger, who was on the Tuesday to guide 
 them all to a glade where the Eang hoped to 
 welcome the ladies as befitted their rank and 
 beauty, and likewise to meet the royal travellers 
 from Bourges, so that all might make their entry 
 into Nanci tosjether. 
 
 The King himself, it was reported, did nothing 
 but ride backwards and forwards between Nanci 
 and the convent where he had halted, arranging the 
 details of the procession, and of the open-air feast 
 at the rendezvous upon the way. 
 
 ' I hope,' said Lady Suffolk, ' that King Eene's 
 confections will not be as full of rancid oil as those 
 of the good sisters. I know not which was more 
 distasteful — their Lenten Fast or their Easter 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 223 
 
 Feast. We have, certes, done our penance this 
 Lent ! ' 
 
 To which the rest of the ladies could not but 
 agree, though Lady Drummond felt it somewhat 
 treasonable to the good nuns, their entertainers ; and 
 both she and Eleanor recollected how differently 
 Esclairmonde would have felt the matter, and how 
 little these matters of daily fare would have con- 
 cerned her. 
 
 ' To-day we shall see her ! ' exclaimed Eleanor, 
 springing to the floor, as, early on a fine spring 
 morning, the ladies in the guest-chamber of the 
 nunnery began to bestir themselves at the sound of 
 one of the many convent bells. ' They are at Toul, 
 and we shall meet this afternoon. I have not slept 
 all night for thinking of it.' 
 
 ' No, and hardly let me sleep,' said Jean, slowly 
 sitting up in bed. ' Thou hast waked me so often 
 that I shall be pale and heavy-eyed for the pageant/ 
 
224 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Little fear of that, my bonnie bell/ said old 
 Christie, laughing. 
 
 ' Besides,' said Eleanor, ' nobody will fash them- 
 selves to look at us in the midst of the pageant. 
 There will be the King to see, and the bride. Oh, 
 I wish we were not to ride in it, and could see it 
 instead at our ease.' 
 
 ' Thou wast never meant for a princess,' said 
 Jean ; ' Christie, Annis, for pity's sake, see till her. 
 She is busking up her hair just as was gude 
 enough for the old nuns, but no for kings and 
 queens.' 
 
 ' I hate the horned cap, in which I feel like a 
 cow, and methought Meg wad feel the snood a sight 
 for sair een,' said Eleanor. 
 
 ' Meg indeed ! Thou must frame thy tongue to 
 Madame la Dauphine.' 
 
 ' Before the lave of them, but not with sweet 
 Meg herself 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 225 
 
 ' Our sister behoves to have learnt what suits 
 her station, and winna bide sic ways from an ower 
 forward sister. Dinna put us all to shame, and 
 make the folk trow we came from some selvage 
 land/ said Jean, tossing her head. 
 
 ' Hast ever seen me carry myself unworthy 
 of King James's daughter ? ' proudly demanded 
 Eleanor. 
 
 ' Nay, now, bairnies, fash not yoursells that 
 gate,' interfered old Christie ; ' nae fear but Lady 
 Eileen will be douce and canny enow when folks 
 are there to see. She kens what fits a kinsj's 
 daughter.' 
 
 Jean made a little hesitation over kirtles and 
 hoods, but fortunately ladies, however royal, had no 
 objection to wearing the same robes twice, and both 
 she and her sister were objects to delight the eyes 
 of the crowding and admiring nuns when they 
 mounted their palfreys in the quadrangle, and, 
 
 VOL. I Q 
 
226 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 attended by the Lady of Glenuskie and her daughter, 
 rode forth with the Marchioness of Suffolk at the 
 great gateway to join the cavalcade, headed by 
 Suffolk and Sir Patrick. 
 
 After about two miles' riding on a woodland 
 road, they became aware of fitful strains of music 
 and a continuous hum of voices, heard through the 
 trees, and presently a really beautiful scene opened 
 before them, as the trees seemed to retreat, so as to 
 unfold a wide level space, further enclosed by 
 brilliant tapestry hangings, their scarlet, blue, gold 
 and silver hues glittering in an April sun, and the 
 fastenings concealed by garlands of spring flowers. 
 An awning of rich gold embroidery on a green 
 ground was spread so as to shelter a cloth glittering 
 with plate and bestrewn with flowers ; horses, in 
 all varieties of ornamental housings, were being led 
 about; there was a semicircle of musicians in the 
 rear ; and, as soon as the guests came in sight, there 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 227 
 
 came forward, doffing liis embroidered and jewelled 
 cap, a gentleman of middle stature and of exceeding 
 grace and courtesy, whose demeanour, no less than 
 the attendance around him, left no doubt that this 
 was no other than Eene, Duke of Anjou and of 
 Lorraine, Count of Provence, and King of the Two 
 Sicilies and of Jerusalem. 
 
 ' Welcome,' he exclaimed in French, ' welcome, 
 fair and royal maidens ; welcome, noble lord, the 
 representative of our dear brother and son of 
 England. Deign on your journey to partake of 
 the humble and rural fare of the poor minstrel 
 shepherd.' 
 
 Wherewith the music broke out in strains of 
 welcome from the grove, with voices betweenwhiles. 
 Bene himself assisted each princess to dismount, and 
 respectfully kissed her on the cheek as she stood on 
 the ground. Then, taking a hand of each, he led 
 them to a great chestnut tree, the shade of whose 
 
228 TWO PENNILESS PKINCESSES chap. 
 
 branches was assisted by hangings of blue em- 
 broidered with white, beneath which cushions, 
 mantles, and seats were spread, and a bevy of 
 ladies in bright garments stood. From these came 
 forward two beautiful young girls, with fair com- 
 plexions and flowing golden hair, scarcely confined 
 by the bands whence transparent veils descended. 
 King Eene presented them as his two daughters, 
 Yolande and Margaret, to the two Scottish maidens, 
 and there were kindly as well as courtly embraces 
 on eithe'^ side. The Lady of Glenuskie, as a king's 
 grand-daughter, with Annis and Lady Suffolk, had 
 likewise been led up to take their places ; the four 
 royal maidens were seated together. Yolande, the 
 most regularly beautiful, but with an anxious look 
 on her face, talked to Eleanor of her journey ; 
 Margaret, who had one of those very simple, inno- 
 cent -lookinsj child -faces that sometimes form the 
 mask of immense energy of character, was more 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 229 
 
 absent and inattentive to lier duties as hostess ; 
 moreover, she and Jean did not understand one 
 another's lanQjuasje so well as did the other two. 
 Delicate little cakes, and tall Venice glasses, 
 spirally ornamented, and containing light wines, 
 were served to them on the knee by a tall, large, 
 fair-haired youth, who was named to them as the 
 Duke Sigismund, of Alsace and the Tirol. 
 
 Jean had time to look about, and heartily wish 
 that her beautiful flaxen hair was loose, and not 
 encumbered with the rolled headgear with two pro- 
 jecting horns, against which Eileen had rebelled ; 
 since York and even London were evidently behind 
 the fashion. Margaret's hair was bound with a broad 
 band of daisies, and Yolande's with violets, both in 
 allusion to their names, Yolande being the French 
 corruption of Yiolante, her Provencal name, in allu- 
 sion to the golden violet. Jean thought of the 
 Scottish thistle, and studied the dresses, tight-fitting 
 
230' TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' cotte hardis ' of bright, deep, soft, rose colour, 
 edged with white fur, and white skirts embroidered 
 with their appropriate flowers. She wondered how 
 soon this could be imitated, casting a few glances at 
 Duke Sigismund, who stood waiting, as if desirous 
 of attracting Yolande's attention. Eleanor, on the 
 other hand, even while answering Yolande, had a 
 feeling as if she had arrived at the completion of 
 the very vision which she had imagined on the 
 dreary tower of Dunbar. Here was the warm spring 
 sun, shining on a scene of unequalled beauty and 
 brilliancy, set in the spring foliage and blossom, 
 whence, as if to rival the human performers, gushes 
 of nightingales' song came in every interval. Hear- 
 ing Eleanor's eager question whether that were the 
 nightingale whose liquid trillings she heard. King 
 Eene realised that the Scottish maidens knew not 
 the note, and signed to the minstrels to cease 
 for a time, then came and sat on a cushion 
 
VI THE PKICE OF A GOOSE 231 
 
 beside the young lady, and enjoyed her admira- 
 tion. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' she said, ' that is the king of the minstrel 
 birds.' 
 
 He smiled. ' The royal lady then has her orders 
 and ranks for the birds.' 
 
 ' Oh yes. If the royal eagle is the king, and 
 the falcon is the true knight, the nightingale and 
 mavis, merle and lark, are the minstrels. And the 
 lovely seagull, oh, how call you it ? — with the long 
 white floating wings rising and falling, is the graceful 
 dancer.' 
 
 ' Guifette' Eene gave the word, ' or in Provence 
 Rondinel delta mar — Jiirondelle de la oner.' 
 
 ' Swallow ! Ah, the pilgTim birds, who visit the 
 Holy Land.' 
 
 * Lady, you should be of our court of the trouba- 
 dours,' said Eene ; ' your words should be a poem.' 
 
 He was called away at the moment, and craved 
 
232 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 lier licence so politely that the chivalrous minstrel 
 king seemed to Eileen all she had dreamt of. The 
 whole was perfect, nothing wanting save that for 
 which her heart was all the time beating high, the 
 presence of her beloved sister Margaret. It was as 
 if a scene out of a romance of fairyland had suddenly 
 taken reality, and she more than once closed her 
 eyes and squeezed her hands to try whether she was 
 awake. 
 
 A fanfaron of trumpets came on the wind, and 
 all were on the alert, while Eleanor's heart throbbed 
 so that she could hardly stand, and caught at Mar- 
 garet's arm, as she murmured with a gasp, ' My 
 sister ! My sister ! ' 
 
 ' Ah ! you are happy to meet once more,' said 
 Margaret. ' The saints only know whether Yolande 
 and I shall ever see one another's faces again when 
 once I am carried away to your dreary England.' 
 
 ' England is not mine, lady,' said Eleanor, rather 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 233 
 
 sharply. ' We reckon the English as our bitterest 
 foes.* 
 
 * You have come with an Englishman though/ 
 said Margaret, ' whom I am to take for my husband,' 
 and she laughed a gay innocent laugh. ' A grizzled 
 old knight, whom I am not like to mistake for my 
 true spouse. Have you seen him ? What like is 
 he?' 
 
 ' The gentlest and sweetest of kings,' returned 
 Eleanor ; ' as fond of all that is good and fair and 
 holy as is your own royal father.' 
 
 Margaret coughed a little. ' My husband should 
 be a gallant warlike knight,' she said, ' such as was 
 this king's father.' 
 
 ' Oh, see ! ' cried Eleanor. ' I saw the glitter of 
 the spears through the trees. There's another blast 
 of the trumpets ! Oh ! oh ! it is a gallant sight ! 
 If only Jamie, my little brother, could see it ! It 
 stirs one's blood.' 
 
234 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 ' Ah yes, Eileen/ cried Jean. ' This is some- 
 thing to have come for.' 
 
 ' And Margaret, sweet Madge,' repeated Eleanor 
 to herself, in her native Scotch, while King Eene's 
 trumpets, harps, and hautbois burst forth with an 
 answering peal, so exciting her that her yellow- 
 brown eyes sparkled and the colour rose in her 
 cheeks, giving her a strange beauty full of eager 
 spirit. Duke Sigismund turned and gazed at her 
 in surprise, and an old herald who was waiting near 
 observed, ' Is that the daughter of the captive King 
 of Scotland ? She has his very countenance and 
 bearing.' 
 
 The trumpeters and other attendants, bearing 
 the blue-lilied banner of France, appeared among 
 the trees, and dividing, formed a lane for the 
 advance of the royal personages. King Eene went 
 forward to meet them, foremost, so as to be ready to 
 hold the stirrup for his sister the Queen of France. 
 
VI THE PRICE OF A GOOSE 235 
 
 Duke Sigismund seemed about to give liis hand to 
 the Infanta Violante, as the Proven^aux called 
 Yolande, but she was beforehand with him, link- 
 ing her arm into Jean's, while Margaret took 
 Eleanor's, and said in her ear, ' The great awkward 
 -German ! He is come here to pay his court to 
 Yolande, but she will none of him. She has better 
 hopes.' 
 
 Eleanor hardly attended, for her whole soul was 
 bent on the party arriving. King Charles, riding 
 on a handsome bay horse, closely followed by a 
 conveyance such as was called in England a whirli- 
 cote, from which the Queen was handed out by her 
 brother, and then, on a sorrel palfrey, in a blue 
 gold - embroidered riding - suit — could that be 
 Margaret of Scotland ? The long reddish -yellow 
 hair and the tall figjure had a familiar look. Xing' 
 Kene was telling her something as he helped 
 her to alight, and with one spring, regardless of 
 
236 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 all, and of all ceremony, she sprang forward. 
 ' My wee Jeanie ! My Eileen ! My titties ! 
 Mine ain wee things,' she cried in her native 
 tongue, as she embraced them by turns, as if 
 she would have devoured them, with a gush of 
 tears. 
 
 Though these were times of great state and 
 ceremony, yet they were also very demonstrative 
 times, when tears and embracings were expected of 
 near kindred ; and, indeed, the King and Queen 
 were equally occupied with their brother and 
 nieces ; but presently Eleanor heard a low voice 
 observe, with a sort of sarcastic twang, ' If Madame 
 has sufficiently satiated her tenderness, perhaps she 
 will remember the due of others.' Margaret started 
 as if stung, and Eleanor, looking up, beheld a face, 
 young but sharp, and with a keen, hard, set look in 
 the narrow eyes, contracted brow, and thin lips, 
 that made her feel as though the serpent had found 
 
VI THE PEICE OF A GOOSE 237 
 
 his way into lier paradise. Hastily turning, 
 Margaret presented her sisters to her husband, 
 who bowed, and kissed each with those strange 
 thin lips, that again made Eleanor shudder, 
 perhaps because of his compliment, ' We are 
 graced by these ladies, in whom we have an- 
 other Madame la Dauphine, as well as an errant 
 beauty/ 
 
 Jean appropriated the last words, but Eileen felt 
 sure that the earlier ones were ironical, both to her 
 and to the Dauphiness, on whose cheeks they 
 brought a flush. The two kings, however, turned 
 to receive the sisters, and nothing could be kinder 
 than the tone of King Charles and Queen Marie 
 towards the sisters of their good daughter, as they 
 termed the Dauphiness, who on her side was wel- 
 comed by Eene as the sweet niece, sharer of his 
 tastes, who brought minstrelsy and poetry in her 
 train. 
 
238 TWO PENNILESS PRINCESSES chap. 
 
 'Trust her for that, my fak uncle,' said her 
 husband in a cold, dry tone. 
 
 All the royal personages sat down on the 
 cushions spread on the grass to the ' rural fare,' as 
 King Eene called it, which he had elaborately 
 prepared for them, while the music sounded from 
 the trees in welcome. 
 
 All was, as the kind prince announced, without 
 ceremony, and he placed Lord Suffolk, as the 
 representative of Henry YI, next to the young 
 Infanta Margaret, and contrived that the Dauphiness 
 should sit between her two sisters, whose hands she 
 clasped from time to time within her own in an 
 ecstasy of delight, while inquiries came from time to 
 time, low breathed in her native tongue, for wee 
 Mary and Jamie and baby Annaple. ' The very 
 sound of your tongues is music to my lugs/ she 
 said. ' And how much mair when ye speak mine 
 ain bonnie Scotch, sic as I never hear save by times 
 
VI THE PEICE OF A GOOSE 239 
 
 when one archer calls to another. Jeanie, you 
 favour our mother. 'Tis gude for ye ! I am blithe 
 one of ye is na like puir Marget ! ' 
 
 ' Dinna say that,' cried Jean, in an access of 
 feeling. ' 'Tis hame, and it's hame to see sic a 
 sonsie Scots face — and it minds me of my blessed 
 father.' 
 
 It was true that Margaret and Eleanor both 
 were thorough Scotswomen, and with the expressive 
 features, the auburn colouring, and tall figures of 
 their father ; but there was for the rest a melancholy 
 contrast between them, for w^hile Eileen had the 
 eager, hopeful, lively healthfulness of early youth, 
 giving a glow to her countenance and animation to 
 the lithe but scarcely-formed figure, Margaret, with 
 the same original mould, had the pallor and pufifiness 
 of ill-health in her complexion, and a largeness of 
 growth more unsatisfactory than leanness, and 
 though her face was lighted up and her eyes 
 
240 TWO PENNILESS PEINCESSES chap, vi 
 
 sparkled with the joy of meeting her sisters, there 
 were lines about the brow and round the mouth ill 
 suited to her age, which was little over twenty 
 years. 
 
 END OF VOL. I 
 
 Pritiied by R. ^^ R. Clark, Edinburgh