Part 5 (1/2)
”He is the son of my chief shepherd,” replied Sir Lancelot; ”he was always a good-looking lad, and is an excellent servant.”
Then, anxious to divert Sir John's attention from Henry, whose handsome features he feared might remind the knight of the late Lord Clifford, whom his son strongly resembled, he began to talk of other things. But Henry did not forget the sweet face of the young lady, or the beautiful eyes he had seen fixed intently upon him, eyes as bright as the stars he was so fond of gazing upon, and he could not help feeling sad to think the fates had placed him in a sphere so much beneath her.
It chanced one day as he watched his flocks feeding on the mountains, he saw the damsel on her white palfrey, attended by a single page, riding direct towards the spot where he was reclining in profound meditation, beneath the spreading branches of a luxuriant oak, that s.h.i.+elded him from the noonday sun. He rose at her approach, and took off his cap, displaying a rich profusion of nut-brown hair as he gracefully made his obeisance, supposing she would pa.s.s by with merely a slight notice, therefore he blushed with surprise and pleasure when she stopped her horse, and said in the sweetest tone imaginable--
”Good day, shepherd Henry; I come to ask a service of you.”
”If I can render you service, lady, you may command me, even to the peril of my life.”
”Nay, I would not have you peril your life for my behoof,” she replied, with a smile.
”In riding over the hills this morning, I have lost a golden clasp, with three diamonds, that fastened my gorget, and I would ask you, should you meet with such a bauble in your ramblings, to carry it to the Lady Margaret of Threlkeld, who will see that it is restored to me.”
”Lady I will not fail to do your bidding. Few persons traverse those hills, and I doubt not the jewel may be recovered.”
”Thanks, gentle shepherd. We leave Threlkeld this day; so farewell, and be a.s.sured your courtesy will not be forgotten by Anne of Bletso.”
That night, by moonlight, Henry wandered over the hills in search of the lost treasure, and for many hours he sought in vain; but at length, oh joyful sight! he saw the diamonds glittering in the moonbeams, at the bottom of a deep ravine, and without a moment's hesitation he commenced the dangerous descent. A single false step and he would have been dashed to pieces against the sharp points of the craggy rock, but with a steady hand and firm foot he gained the depth in safety, seized the prize; then, with great difficulty, and not without a few wounds and bruises, he climbed up again, and stood triumphant on the brink of a really frightful precipice. If the young lady had known where her clasp was to be found, she certainly would not have asked him to look for it; but he was himself well pleased to have encountered any danger for her sake, and in thoughtful mood he returned to the cottage, and repaired to his humble couch to dream of Anne Saint John.
”Why, Henry, what hast thee been doing to face and hands, boy?” said Robin the next morning.
”I stumbled into a brake, father,” replied Henry, laughing, ”and got a few scratches, that's all.”
”Dear heart, but they are grievous hurts!” exclaimed Maud, ”you must let me put a balsam to them, Henry.”
”As you will, mother, but it is hardly worth while for so light a matter.”
The balsam, however, was applied, and the wounds were speedily healed, but Henry did not recover his wonted peace of mind. As Lord Clifford he might have won the hand of the high-born maiden on whom his thoughts now constantly dwelt; but, as Henry the Shepherd, even to speak to her was presumption. Never had he lamented over his fallen fortunes as he did now; but he buried his regrets in his own bosom, nor did he let it appear, either by word or look, that he was less contented than he was before.
Lady Margaret had taken care of the clasp, but she told him the country was again threatened with warfare, so that it would not be safe to entrust anything of value to the hands of a messenger; therefore she would keep it till Sir Lancelot went to Bletso, which he intended to do ere long. She did not tell him that Sir John Saint John had come to Threlkeld to give secret information to herself and her husband of the project contemplated by the chief n.o.bles, to depose King Richard and place the Earl of Richmond on the throne. She was afraid of exciting hopes that might end in disappointment, yet she was herself sanguine as to the possibility of De Clifford being restored to his rights if the crown should be won by a prince of the House of Lancaster. Sir John took great interest in the cause, being himself related in a distant degree to Henry Earl of Richmond; therefore the Saint John's of Bletso had royal blood in their veins.
It was the close of the autumn, in the year 1485, when Lady Margaret came one evening to Robin's cottage, not secretly as heretofore, not in fear and trembling lest it should be known for whom her visit was intended, but openly to greet her son as De Clifford's heir. Little did he guess the purport of her coming as he returned her fond embrace, but he saw that her countenance was radiant with happiness, and he asked if Sir Lancelot had returned.
”No, my son, he is in London; and, Henry, I have important news to tell.
Have you courage to hear it?”
”Why should I need courage, dear mother? You do not look as if you had evil tidings to communicate.”
”The tidings I bring are not evil; but it requires fort.i.tude to bear a great joy as well as a great sorrow, when it comes upon us unexpectedly.”
Henry's heart began to beat more quickly, his face flushed, and his voice trembled as he asked--
”Mother, what has happened? Tell me at once, I beseech you.”
”I told you, Henry, that we were looking for a renewal of the war.”
”Yes, you told me so. Has it begun again?”
”It has begun and ended, I hope, for ever. There has been a battle; King Richard is killed, and a prince of the House of Lancaster now sits on the throne.”
Henry started up from his seat, his eyes fixed on Lady Margaret's face in an agony of suspense.