With Ring of Shield Part 39

The remnant of the dead tyrant's force--for above four thousand had been slain--offered no further resistance, and the great majority of them did join in and cheer for the victorious Earl.

Then Harleston grasped my hand. His visor was raised up and his face was flushed with pleasure and exertion.

"Well, Bradley, our oath, made to King Edward, hath been kept; we have revenged the murder of his little son."

It was he who had struck down Richard at the same moment as had I.

Richmond dismounted and, kneeling, he thanked G.o.d for his great victory. Then he arose and grasped both Harleston and me by the hands, and heartily he thanked us for the part that we had played.

Sir William Stanley now advanced to where the Earl of Richmond stood.

In his hand he carried the light, gold crown that had been worn by Richard in the battle. This he placed upon the victor's head, and then we all knelt down and cried:--"G.o.d save King Henry!" Then, as do the waters spread out in ever widening circling waves after a stone hath been dropped through their smooth surface, the cries of:--"G.o.d save King Henry!" swept throughout the whole delirious army.

"Great G.o.d, I thank thee for this bounteous gift presented by the hands of these, thy faithful servants," said Henry devoutly, as again he kneeled.

"May I rule this, my fair, native land with justice, and under thy direction."

Then again we all arose, and deafening cheers swept with redoubled vigour over the plains of Redmoor.

"Throw yon b.l.o.o.d.y carrion across the back of some degraded horse, and then on to Leicester, where we will spend the night," said the King, as he pointed to Richard's body.

Frederick and I had little difficulty in finding Michael; for during the preceding scene he had forced his way through the crowd and stood near behind us. We then joined in with the guards of our new sovereign and rode on to Leicester, with hearts lighter than they had been for many a long, black day; and yet with anxious minds, as we wondered whether Catesby had told the truth or no.

CHAPTER XXVIII

CONCLUSION

When we reached our destination we handed Catesby over to the proper authorities, and from that time we had naught to do with his fate.

We hastened by the shortest way to the Grey Friars' Church, and from there, when we had been directed, we went to the Sanctuary.

Catesby had spoken the truth; the ring that I had taken from his finger gained for us admittance.

At first Hazel refused to see us, and prayed protection of the church folk.

Then I remembered me, and sent unto her our names. Instantly then were we admitted into her presence, and happy reunion took the place of torturous separation and maddening anxiety.

"Come now, art happy and content?" I asked, when our joyous greeting had gone the rounds.

"Yes, yes, so happy now, dear;--but how are thine ears?" she broke in suddenly.

"Tus.h.!.+ 'twas a mere nothing; he but cut off the skin."

However, she would not be content until I had taken off my helm and she had redressed the slight wounds.

"But what became of him?" she asked, as a shudder ran through her frame. "I have not seen him since he was torturing thee. The next I knew I was within a closed, wheeled litter, travelling at a fearful pace, and this woman here, beside me. I tried to get out, but could not. Armed men rode all around the litter. Steadily did we travel on, stopping but seldom to get fresh horses, food, and some little rest, until we reached this place. Here have I been locked up and treated as a mad woman."

"The fiend!" I cried.

"Yes, Catesby had evidently been here and told them that I was his mad sister, which thought I was another, and this woman here hath been my keeper since I came."

I walked over to where the woman--an old hag--was crouched on a bench in a corner, trembling with fear.

"Thou mayest leave this place at once, madam," I said, "and thank G.o.d, which made thee so, that thou hast at least the s.e.x of a woman.

"Your master is now the prisoner of our new King Henry, and, unless the aforesaid King be of more forgiving nature than I think, Catesby shall soon be with his master, the usurping tyrant, Richard, which is even now in h.e.l.l's consuming fire."

"Oh, poor Sir William!" she wailed. "Ah, sir! I nursed him at my breast, and ever since have I been his servant. Oh! save him, sir! I know he did have his faults; but still do I love and serve him, as though he were mine own. For G.o.d's sake, sir, speak but a word to your new King, and thou canst save him! Return good for evil, now that thou hast the power!" and she knelt at my feet and threw her arms about my legs.

"Strange," thought I, "that even such a villain as is Catesby hath some one who loves him." Then aloud I said:--"It must not be. My wrongs are not the only ones that he must answer for. Catesby hath writ a volume of misdeeds, and the whole world hath perused them. No man can stop the bad effects of these in other ways than by the suppression of the one that doeth them."

"Wilt thou not have mercy on him, Walter dear?" asked the tender-hearted maid which now clung to my side.

I started in surprise. "What! dost thou plead for Catesby?" I asked.

"Nay, not for him; but for this old woman here. She hath done naught but obey her master. Save the knave, Walter, for this old woman's sake. We can now afford to be generous, Walter dear; now that all danger is past. Besides, he can do no harm, and mayhap your generosity will show him the evil of his acts, and he will then repent," and she stroked my cheek coaxingly.

Truly, a woman is the most unfathomable work of G.o.d. Here was this maid, quick as a hornet to resent a wrong, and yet forgiving as a dove when the danger had pa.s.sed.

I hesitated; but her tender eyes were on me, and I could not resist their wondrous charm.

"Well,--I will see what may be done," I replied slowly, and with great reluctance. "But remember, I have little thought that he can avoid the block, or halter."

Then I went unto the King's headquarters and told him my request.

"What, Bradley! spare the life of Catesby; the man that so hath wronged thee? By the light of Heaven! my long sojourn across the channel hath made me to forget the nature of an English gentleman! But may I ask your reason for this strange request?" he asked more seriously.

I told him.

"'Tis but an old woman's whim; but even so I had been glad to grant thee this request; but thou art too late. His head was stricken off but a few moments before thou earnest."

"Thank Gawd!" growled Michael from the door, whither he had followed, as faithful as my shadow.

"And is this a friend of thine?" asked the King.

"Ay, your Majesty, he is my n.o.ble squire. To him, your Grace, do I owe my life a score of times." And then I told him of the worthy Irishman.

When I came to the part that Michael had played that day the King exclaimed:--

"What! captured Catesby! Kneel down my faithful subject. What is thy name?"

"Moichael O'Brien, yer Majesty."

The King drew forth his sword and laid it upon the mighty shoulder.

"Arise, Sir Michael O'Brien."

Still did not Michael stand; but merely raised his head and stared in bewilderment at the King.