XXVI

THE JUDGMENT OF THE KING

In the Painted Chamber of the Palace of Westminster the Court was gathered. Through the great long room, amid the soft light of scores upon scores of candles, moved the gorgeously attired throng--waiting for the King whose usual hour of entrance was long since past. And curiosity was rife, and uneasiness in the atmosphere.

For the times were sadly unsettled; and among those who had for an instant hesitated between Tudor and Plantagenet--and their number was not small--there was grave anxiety, lest their faint loyalty had come to Richard's ears. And to such it was scarce a comforting reflection that, in Exeter, the headsman had just done his grim work upon St.

Leger; albeit he were husband of the King's own sister. If he were condemned for treason, even though it were open and notorious, who that were tainted ever so slightly were likely to be spared?

But all the while, the ladies laughed and chatted gayly, and the knights bowed and smiled and answered back in kind; and the throng as a whole seemed to be without a shred of care.

At one group of young matrons there was much merriment; and as Lord Darby chanced to stroll by, they hailed him banteringly, inviting him to join them. But he declined with sarcastic pleasantry.

"Fie, sir! It was not a gallant speech," cried the Lady Strange, with a toss of her golden locks; "and if your tongue be as acid always, there is small wonder that rumor gave another precedence in the favor of the Countess of Clare."

Darby halted and bowed low and long--very low and very long.

"Your ladyship does me too much honor," he said, with well a.s.sumed humility, "in even thinking of the Countess of Clare and my poor self in the same moment."

"Doubtless I do--since your devotion was too feeble even to send you to her rescue."

"And now you do me deep injustice; I sought the Countess from the day following the abduction until all hope was gone. Methinks alas! she has long since been gathered with the Saints."

The Countess of Ware--the Lady Mary Percy that was--laughed with gibing intonation.

"There is one, at least, who has not ceased to hope and to search," she said.

"And has been as successful as myself," he retorted, nor hid the sneer.

"But if he find her?"

Darby shrugged his shoulders. "Think you there is recognition in the spirit world?"

"Then you actually believe the Countess dead?" the Lady Lovel asked.

"Beyond all question, madam. It is near three months since the abduction and a trace of her has yet to be discovered;" and was going on when the Countess of Ware stopped him.

"Can you tell us what detains the King?" she asked.

"I have no notion," he replied. "I saw him an hour or so ago and he was in the best of health and humor."

"Your news is stale," she laughed; "a King's humor an hour old is very ancient."

"True," said Darby, "true indeed, yet here comes one who can doubtless answer fittingly. . . Sir Ralph, what delays His Majesty?"

But De Wilton looked him straight in the face, and with never a word in reply, pa.s.sed on.

And at that moment the Black Rod entered, and behind him came the King.

Save for the crimson lining of his short gown, he was clad in white from head to foot, an ivory boar with eyes of rubies and tusks of sapphires, pinned the feather in his bonnet, about his neck hung the George, and his only weapon was the diamond hilted dagger at his girdle. With it he toyed, looking neither to the right nor to the left, nor yet to the front; but rather at the mental picture of one engrossed in thought.

Slowly and with the impressive dignity that was the natural heritage of the Plantagenets, he mounted the steps to the Throne and turning faced his Court; and all bowed low, and then in silence waited, while his dark eyes searched them through.

"You may take your places, my Lord Cardinal and Lord Chancellor," he said. "Her Majesty will not join us until later."

Bowing in response, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Lincoln a.s.sumed their stools on the third step of the dais; and the crowd, released from the ceremonial calm, began to buzz softly with conversation, though without taking eye from the King. And they turned quickly dumb again as Richard raised his hand.

"We will have to beg your kind indulgences if, for a while, we delay the games and the dance," he said. "It is a most unhappy chance upon this evening of all others, when we are about to celebrate our safe return from rebellious war, that there has come to us evidences of foulest crime and darkest treason by one high in rank and station, and who is, even now, within sound of my voice."

Over the Court ran a shiver of apprehension; and men eyed one another with misgiving and drew within themselves; while the women, with faces suddenly gone white and lips a tremble, clutched the hands of those most dear, as though to shield them from the doom about to fall. For green in the memory was Hastings, and Rivers, and Buckingham, and St.

Leger, and the stern suddenness of their taking off.

"Perchance, it were more suitable," the King went on, "that matters of such import be deferred to the quiet of the council chamber and the Court of the Lord High Steward; and in particular, that there should be none of the gentler s.e.x in presence. Yet for reasons which to me seem adequate and proper, I have determined otherwise. He who is charged with these crimes is now among you; and by you, my lords and my ladies, shall he be adjudged. Stand forth, Henry, Lord Darby of Roxford."

The gasp that soughed through the room as Richard spoke the name was far more of relief than of wonder, and instantly all eyes sought the accused.

And he met them with a shrug of indifference and a smiling face. And down the aisle that opened to him he went--debonair and easy--until he stood before the Throne. There he bent knee for an instant; then, erect and unruffled, he looked the King defiantly in the eye.

"Here stand I to answer," he said. "Let the charges be preferred."

Richard turned to the Black Rod.

"Summon the accusers," he ordered.

As the Usher backed from the room, there arose a hissing of whispers that changed sharply to exclamations of surprise as in formal tones he heralded:

"Sir John de Bury! Sir Aymer de Lacy!"

The elder Knight leaned on the other's arm as they advanced; but dropped it at the Throne and both made deep obeisance. An impatient glance from the King brought instant quiet.

"Sir John de Bury and Sir Aymer de Lacy," he, said, "you have made certain grave accusations touching Henry, Lord Darby of Roxford. He stands here now to answer. Speak, therefore, in turn."

De Bury stepped forward and faced Darby, who met him with folded arms and scornful front.

"I charge Henry, Lord Darby," he said, "with having abducted and held prisoner, in his castle of Roxford and elsewhere, my niece, the Lady Beatrix de Beaumont, Countess of Clare."

A cry of amazement burst from the Court, but Richard silenced it with a gesture.

"You have heard, my lord," he said. "What is your plea?"

"Not guilty, Sire."

At a nod from the King, De Lacy took place beside Sir John.

"I charge Henry, Lord Darby of Roxford," he cried, "with high treason, in that he aided and a betted the Duke of Buckingham in his late rebellion, and stood prepared to betray his Sovereign on the field of battle."