Beatrix of Clare Part 22

"Who has preceded us?" said Stanley; and in contrast to the melodious voice of the Lord Chamberlain his tones were like melting ice.

"Only the Lord Chancellor and the Bishop of Ely."

"Then, Hastings, we shall have time to discuss further the matter I touched on a moment since," said Stanley, making as though to go on.

"As you will," Hastings answered indifferently, and without moving, "but believe me, my lord, it will boot little what may be the record.

Eleanor and Katharine Neville were sisters, true enough, but Eleanor is dead and you have wed a second time; while Katharine still chatelaines my castles of Ashby and Calais. The matter has been left to her sweet judgment, and her wish is my decision. It is quite needless to debate the subject further."

Aymer caught the quick look of resentment that flashed through Stanley's eyes, but Hastings missed it, for he had turned and was gazing toward the royal lodge.

And Stanley, with that cool indifference to aught but expediency which characterized his whole life, let the curt speech pa.s.s, seemingly unheeded.

In a moment the Lord Chamberlain said courteously, as though regretful for his recent abruptness:

"Well, my lord, shall we proceed? It will be well for the Council to be a.s.sembled when Richard comes."

"In truth, yes," said Stanley suavely; and bowing stiffly to the two young Knights, the traitor of Bosworth linked arms with Hastings and went on toward the White Tower.

"Did you mark that?" De Wilton queried; "and evidently it was a matter of some moment since Hastings has submitted it to his wife."

"There are more than royal prerogatives at issue these days," replied De Lacy, "and private grievance may work deep into the greater game."

"It will be the only way by which the Stanley can be led to bear a part," said De Wilton sententiously. "He savors more of the shops in the Cheap yonder than of Castle or Court."

"And hence the pity that he has such power of rank and wealth behind him with his new Countess, the Beaufort heiress."

"Aye--and what is worse, in her and her son lie the last hope of Lancaster."

"You mean the Earl of Richmond?" said Aymer. "I saw him a year or more ago at the Court of Blois. His appearance gave little promise of kingly blood or spirit."

"Nathless, my good friend, our own Duke of Gloucester would give a few hides of land to have that same Earl safe within these walls. York sits not firm on England's throne while the Tudor lives in freedom."

"It is a shrewd test of Stanley's faith--his step-fathers.h.i.+p to this Richmond," De Lacy observed.

"Of a truth, yes; and one that will find him wanting if the trial ever come. Had not His late Majesty died so suddenly, this Margaret would have had a brood of treasons hatched ready for the occasion; and I doubt not that she and her adherents are, even now, deep in plottings with the Welsh and France's King."

"With Stanley's knowledge?"

De Wilton's only answer was a shrug and a jerk of his head toward the river.

"Here are two more of the Council," he remarked; and the Duke of Buckingham came rapidly up the path in company with Lord Lovel.

"Are we late or early?" Buckingham called.

"Late for Stanley and Hastings and their reverences of York and Ely,"

said Aymer, "but early for the Lord Protector."

"Did the Chamberlain and Stanley come together?" Lovel asked.

"They did, my lord."

"And their humor?"

"Not the most sympathetic. They were not entirely agreed about some matter the Lord Hastings had submitted to his Countess, and that she had decided, seemingly, against Stanley's wishes."

"It is the old matter of the Neville sisters that cropped up even in Bonville's time," said Buckingham. "The more Stanley urges that now, the better it will fit our purpose. Come, let us stimulate the dispute if occasion offer," and with a sarcastic laugh he turned away.

"Methinks, my Lord of Buckingham," observed De Wilton, when he and De Lacy were again alone, "that you will scarce find another Rivers in either Hastings or Stanley. It requires a master hand to play Stoney Stratford twice in six short weeks."

"No need for another seizure, I fancy," said De Lacy. "Richard's power is secure now and the King will be crowned on St. John's Day."

De Wilton looked at him thoughtfully. "It is strange, Sir Aymer, that you, who have lived under The Fell Louis, should not look deeper into the minds of men. St. John's Day is but nine days hence, yet will I wager you ten good rose n.o.bles it brings no coronation with it. I know"--as De Lacy regarded him incredulously--"that the council has so fixed it--that the ceremonies have been arranged--that the provisions for the banquet have been ordered--and that the n.o.bility are gathering from all England, yet none the less will I make the wager."

De Lacy was silent for a bit. Then he spoke:

"It would be foolish to pretend I do not catch your meaning, but I had never faced the matter in that light. In France there may be strife of faction, plottings and intrigues and blood-spilling for position in the State; yet is the Crown ever secure. The struggle is but for place near the Throne, never for the Throne itself. . . Naturally, I appreciate our need for a strong King at this crisis. Edward is but a child, and York's grip on the Crown may grow perilously lax, or even slip entirely. With Gloucester it would be different. His hand is not likely to loosen if once it grasp the sceptre. I shall not take your wager. It would be against my own heart. If Richard's aim is England's Throne, my poor arm is at his service."

"Now are you one after my own soul," exclaimed De Wilton. "Up with the White Boar banner! Hurrah for King Richard the Third!"

"But that I knew Sir Aymer de Lacy and Sir Ralph de Wilton to be loyal subjects of Edward the Fifth, so long as he be King of England, I should be obliged to commit you both to yonder tower," said the stern, calm voice of the Duke of Gloucester behind them.

Both Knights sprang to their feet and uncovered. De Wilton was confused and could make no reply. De Lacy, however, was not so easily disconcerted and, despite the censure in the words, he felt that they were not grave offenders.

"If an honest desire to see the Duke of Gloucester King of England be a crime," he answered, bowing low, "then we both are guilty. Yet plead we in clemency, that we shall follow only where the White Boar leads."

The severe lines of Richard's mouth relaxed a trifle.

"Let me caution you," he said, and the chill was gone from his voice, "talk not treason so publicly; even stones have ears at times. I go now to the Council; await me here or in the inner chapel."

"What think you of it?" asked De Wilton.

"Enough to make me glad I refused your wager; there is something brewing."

"Whatever it be I hope it will come quickly," said Sir Ralph with half a sigh. "This is not like the old days when Edward held his state here. Many is the time I have seen this great place bright with women's faces and ringing with their laughter; the ramparts crowded, and scarce a shady seat but held a fair dame and gallant lover. Where are now the sweet voices and the swis.h.i.+ng gowns? Gone--maybe, forever; Elizabeth is in sanctuary a mile up yonder stream, and Edward is too young to mate at present."

"Perchance the d.u.c.h.ess of Gloucester may come here and revive it all."

De Wilton shook his head. "Richard seems to have small love for this old pile of stone; and besides he ceases to be Lord Protector when the King is crowned."

"In truth!" exclaimed De Lacy. "What then will he be?"

"Duke of Gloucester and uncle to His Majesty."

The two men looked at each other and smiled.

Neither had observed an elderly Knight in dusty riding dress and long boots hurrying down the courtyard, until he had pa.s.sed them; then De Lacy sprang up and hastened after.

"Sir John de Bury," he called; "stop and speak to a friend."