"Nay, then, Heaven be praised for that!" said Sir Hugh, "for the other matter, the worst is but worldly loss."

"We are not so sure of that, either," returned the Captain, "affairs have altogether taken a new turn. Your nephew hath desired my return at once to inform you thereof, so as to stop your making any sacrifice of property."

"'Fore Heaven, this doth surprise me!" said the Knight, "but come, we will hear such matter at more leisure, and after you have refreshed yourself, for you seem to have ridden far and fast since morning."

"I have," said the Captain. "I am stained with variation of each soil, 'twist this seat of yours and the town of Oxford, and the ways are wondrous foul and hard to travel over, too. A cup of wine and a rasher will be welcome."

"You shall have the best that Clopton can afford," said the Knight, hurrying out, and calling l.u.s.tily to his servants to prepare the evening meal without delay.

Accordingly, the Captain, having divested himself of his heavy riding-cloak, and removed the long petronels, rapier, and dagger from his side, was in a few minutes more seated cozily in a high-backed chair beneath the chimney, and opposite his host.

Between the pair stood a small table, plentifully furnished with several sorts of wine. A glorious log of wood blazed upon the hearth, and whilst the servants brought in the refreshments which furnished forth the evening meal, the new comer between each mouthful delivered his news to the greedy ears of his host.

"Many events of import have transpired," said he, as he at length pushed his plate from him, in token that the inner man was satisfied; "aye, and that too in the short period since you left London to arrange matters here. In the first place, I need not inform you that both yourself and Walter Arderne had a secret foe at Court."

"Of that I have long been aware," said Sir Hugh.

"Most probably," said the Captain. "A foe is generally found sooner or later, like the blind mole, by the effects of his progress; but I have unearthed this mole."

"Good," said Sir Hugh, "that's a point gained any how."

"Nay, more, I have discovered you have also a secret and powerful friend at Court, and the friend is more powerful than the foe. Witness the effects. Your nephew is released from all responsibility on the subject of the treasonable charge trumped up against him, and, as he himself bade me deliver to you, is in a fair way of getting rid also of other matters appertaining."

"And how is this derived?" said Sir Hugh. "You amaze me with so much good news, I pray you expound unto me the names of these persons who have interested themselves for and against me and mine. Set this foe before me, that I may know him, good Captain. 'Fore Heaven, I am old, but I have still some skill in fence. Thou shalt bear a cartel to the caitiff."

"It could be easily done," returned the Captain, filling his pipe and puffing out a volume of smoke.

"'Fore gad, then," said Sir Hugh, lighting a fellow pipe, and performing upon it with equal gusto, "you shall find it shall be as promptly done."

"Have you ever had personal quarrel with the Earl of Leicester?"

inquired the Captain.

"None, as I am a gentleman," said Sir Hugh.

"And yet," said the Captain, "hath it been through his means that your nephew's late troubles have been brought to a serious issue, so indeed as to threaten his life as well as deprive him of his liberty."

"Were he twenty times an earl," said Sir Hugh, "he shall answer it. Thou shalt seek him, Captain, in my name, and demand the why and wherefore."

"I had much rather be excused," said the Captain, eyeing the gyrations of the smoke, and then peeping at Sir Hugh.

"How?" said Sir Hugh. "Wilt not be then my friend, good Captain? Well, be it so, I will to my good neighbour, Sir Thomas Lucy. He is a man to beard fifty earls, be they ever so powerful."

"Sir Thomas Lucy could hardly do your message either," said the Captain.

"Ha, say'st thou! Truly, then, thou knowest not the goodness and hot-valour of the knight of Charlecote; he is a true friend, and right honest. But wherefore should Sir Thomas refuse to carry a cartel to the Earl?"

"Because Sir Thomas would scarce carry a cartel to one unable to reply to it," said the Captain. "The Earl of Leicester is dead. He died two nights back at Cornbury, on his way to Kenilworth. So much I learnt as I tarried at Oxford, where, moreover, I further heard strange rumours of the manner of his death."

"Gad-a-mercy!" said Sir Hugh, "this doth indeed surprise me. What a world is this we live in. Dead, quotha! and mine enemy too! Well this is news, indeed. But then this friend at Court, good Captain? methinks I should not forget to ask for him."

"Ahem!" said the Captain. "Of that, anon. Bless me! how heavily the rain beats against the cas.e.m.e.nt. Foul weather this, good Sir Hugh, for travellers. Truly the night hath come down dark, as a wolf's mouth, and ways be both foul and dangerous."

"Hast any friend on the road to-night, good Captain?" inquired Sir Hugh.

"I was consorted," said the Captain, "as far as Oxford by one who over-rode me on the way soon after leaving London, and whom I left at Oxford with a purpose of following hitherward. He is a native of Stratford, and one of pleasanter mood I never travelled withal. The man, I think, you know."

"And his name?" inquired Sir Hugh. "Come, fill your gla.s.s."

"William Shakespeare," said the Captain. "He who wrote the play we saw in London."

Sir Hugh laid down his pipe, and rose to his feet. "Is Shakespeare coming back?" he said. "'Fore Heaven, thou canst not think, my good friend the pleasure such information gives me. Thou canst not tell what I feel towards that young man--so little known, yet so well appreciated."

"Ha," said the Captain, "so have I heard you say."

"I have before named to thee," said Sir Hugh, "former pa.s.sages in which my family became acquainted with this Shakespeare, and how we received an inestimable service from him in his early youth. And I tell thee now my very soul yearned to go to that man when in London and clasp him to my heart, but I was ashamed. I gave ear to the tales of his enemies; I believed him to have become worthless and an outcast in the world. And, as I shamed to take part with him in adversity, so I shame to see his face in his hour of triumph. But I love that man. Nay, I am old, Captain, but the words of his poetry, as we listened to it that night, yet ring in mine ears."

"Truly then," said the Captain, whose rough nature was in something moved, "your friendship is not ill bestowed. This Shakespeare hath bestirred himself in your nephew's favour, and procured his release from the graver charge of treason. He hath interested the Queen, through my Lords of Ess.e.x and Southampton, and hath given me a clue by which I have discovered the villany of our Stratford lawyer here, Pouncet Grasp, the secret foe through whose influence the Earl of Leicester was made instrumental. Nay, Shakespeare hath been your good friend, Sir Hugh."

"And is he in sooth coming back to Stratford?" said Sir Hugh, rubbing his hands. "In prosperity or adversity, he shall be welcome as if he were mine own son."

"Truly," said the Captain, "I can in some sort almost feel the same towards this friend of thine, for never travelled I with one who so cheered the long miles 'twixt post and post. He was right pleasant and facetious all the miry way 'twixt Acton and Oxbridge. I wished the miles twice us long whilst we p.r.i.c.ked across the waste land towards Beaconsfield. Neither wind nor rain, or mud or mire, could alter his merry mood, as, by night, we made our way towards Walting Town; and when we lost our route, and were nearly drowned in the marshes of Abingdon, he turned our danger into a jest. Nothing came amiss to this Shakespeare; he had a saying for every mistake, and a good word for every misfortune."

"Such a comrade," said Sir Hugh, "were worth something on a journey."

"Nay, Sir Hugh," returned the Captain, "I have travelled far and near, yet never met I with such another. By 'ur Lady, I have consorted with your Dane, drank with your Hollander, revelled with your Frenchman, and fought with your Spaniard, yet none did I ever find who could hold comparison with this man."

"I marvel you came not on further together," said Sir Hugh, "since you so well relished his companionship."

"He tarried, as I told you, at Oxford," returned the Captain, "where it seems he had appointed to meet other company. Nay, I myself also tarried one night at Oxford, to rest my horse. We put up at the hostel of the Crown, and, in sooth, a merrier night I never spent withal. This Shakespeare hath a peculiar art. He made himself familiar amidst the various guests, and drew them out to exhibit themselves after the most exquisite fashion. Nay, the hostess of the Crown was herself a woman of exceeding wit and beauty, and seemed to relish the society of the player."

"I know that hostel," said Sir Hugh. "'Tis kept by one Davenant; and the hostess is indeed, as you say, 'a most sweet wench.'"[26]

[Footnote 26: There is an anecdote extant in Oxfordshire, of the intimacy subsisting between this hostess and Shakespeare. Shakespeare is said to have always rested at the Crown, at Oxford, whilst _en route_ from London to Stratford.]

CHAPTER LIX.

KENILWORTH.

Our readers, we doubt not, have for some time entertained a shrewd suspicion regarding the somewhat indistinct character latterly flitting about amongst the _dramatis personae_ of our story. The Lady Clara de Mowbray, in her own proper person, has of late been but little seen in the twisted and ravelled skein of this history.

The fortunes of him who is enshrined in all hearts, has of necessity thrown all minor characters into the shade.

Nevertheless, the doings of so exquisite a creature as Clara de Mowbray, are worthy of the contemplation of our readers, for both in station and disposition she was considerably elevated above the ordinary fragments of the world.