The Caged Lion [31]
of Pontefract Castle shimmered on high from its hill. The gates were opened, the horses clattered in, torches came forth, flickering and hissing in the darkness. The travellers went through what seemed to Malcolm an interminable number of courts and gateways, and at length flung themselves off their horses, when Henry, striding on, mounted the steps, entered the building, and, turning the corner of a great carved screen, he and his brother, with James and Malcolm, found themselves in the midst of a blaze of cressets and tapers, which lighted up the wainscoted part of the hall.
The whole scene was dazzling to eyes coming in from the dark, and only after a moment or two could Malcolm perceive that, close to the great fire, sat a party of four, playing at what he supposed to be that French game with painted cards of which Patrick Drummond had told him, and that the rest seemed to be in attendance upon them.
Dark eyed and haired, with a creamy ivory skin, and faultless form and feature, the fair Catherine would have been unmistakable, save that as Henry hurried forward, the lights glancing on his jaded face, matted hair, and soaked dress, the first to spring forward to meet him was a handsome young man, who wrung his hand, crying, 'Ah, Harry, Harry, then 'tis too true!' while the lady made scarcely a step forwards: no shade of colour tinged her delicate cheek; and though she did not resist his fervent embrace, it was with a sort of recoil, and all she was heard to say was, 'Eh, Messire, vos bottes sont crottees!'
'You know all, Kate?' he asked, still holding her hand, and looking afraid of inflicting a blow.
'The battle? Is it then so great a disaster?' and, seeing his amazed glance, 'The poor Messire de Clarence! it was pity of him; he was a handsome prince.'
'Ah, sweet, he held thee dear,' said Henry, catching at the crumb of sympathy.
'But yes,' said Catherine, evidently perplexed by the strength of his feeling, and repeating, 'He was a beau sieur courtois. But surely it will not give the Armagnacs the advantage?'
'With Heaven's aid, no! But how fares it with poor Madge--his wife, I mean?'
'She is away to her estates. She went this morn, and wished to have taken with her the Demoiselle de Beaufort; but I forbade that--I could not be left without one lady of the blood.'
'Alack, Joan--' and Henry was turning, but Catherine interrupted him. 'You have not spoken to Madame of Hainault, nor to the Duke of Orleans. Nay, you are in no guise to speak to any one,' she added, looking with repugnance at the splashes of mud that reached even to his waist.
'I will don a fresh doublet, sweetheart,' said Henry, more rebuked than seemed fitting, 'and be ready to sup anon.'
'Supper! We supped long ago.'
'That may be; but we have ridden long since we snatched our meal, that I might be with thee the sooner, my Kate.'
'That was not well in you, my Lord, to come in thus dishevelled, steaming with wet--not like a king. You will be sick, my Lord.'
The little word of solicitude recalled his sweet tender smile of gratitude. No fear, ma belle; sickness dares not touch me.'
'Then,' said the Queen, 'you will be served in your chamber, and we will finish our game.'
Henry turned submissively away; but Bedford tarried an instant to say, 'Fair sister, he is sore distressed. It would comfort him to have you with him. He has longed for you.'
Catherine opened her beautiful brown eyes in a stare of surprise and reproof at the infraction of the rules of ceremony which she had brought with her. John of Bedford had never seemed to her either beau or courtois, and she looked unutterable things, to which he replied by an elevation of his marked eyebrows.
She sat down to her game, utterly ignoring the other princes in their weather-beaten condition; and they were forced to follow the King, and make their way to their several chambers, for Queen Catherine's will was law in matters of etiquette.
'The proud peat! She is jealous of every word Harry speaks--even to his cousin,' muttered James, as he
The whole scene was dazzling to eyes coming in from the dark, and only after a moment or two could Malcolm perceive that, close to the great fire, sat a party of four, playing at what he supposed to be that French game with painted cards of which Patrick Drummond had told him, and that the rest seemed to be in attendance upon them.
Dark eyed and haired, with a creamy ivory skin, and faultless form and feature, the fair Catherine would have been unmistakable, save that as Henry hurried forward, the lights glancing on his jaded face, matted hair, and soaked dress, the first to spring forward to meet him was a handsome young man, who wrung his hand, crying, 'Ah, Harry, Harry, then 'tis too true!' while the lady made scarcely a step forwards: no shade of colour tinged her delicate cheek; and though she did not resist his fervent embrace, it was with a sort of recoil, and all she was heard to say was, 'Eh, Messire, vos bottes sont crottees!'
'You know all, Kate?' he asked, still holding her hand, and looking afraid of inflicting a blow.
'The battle? Is it then so great a disaster?' and, seeing his amazed glance, 'The poor Messire de Clarence! it was pity of him; he was a handsome prince.'
'Ah, sweet, he held thee dear,' said Henry, catching at the crumb of sympathy.
'But yes,' said Catherine, evidently perplexed by the strength of his feeling, and repeating, 'He was a beau sieur courtois. But surely it will not give the Armagnacs the advantage?'
'With Heaven's aid, no! But how fares it with poor Madge--his wife, I mean?'
'She is away to her estates. She went this morn, and wished to have taken with her the Demoiselle de Beaufort; but I forbade that--I could not be left without one lady of the blood.'
'Alack, Joan--' and Henry was turning, but Catherine interrupted him. 'You have not spoken to Madame of Hainault, nor to the Duke of Orleans. Nay, you are in no guise to speak to any one,' she added, looking with repugnance at the splashes of mud that reached even to his waist.
'I will don a fresh doublet, sweetheart,' said Henry, more rebuked than seemed fitting, 'and be ready to sup anon.'
'Supper! We supped long ago.'
'That may be; but we have ridden long since we snatched our meal, that I might be with thee the sooner, my Kate.'
'That was not well in you, my Lord, to come in thus dishevelled, steaming with wet--not like a king. You will be sick, my Lord.'
The little word of solicitude recalled his sweet tender smile of gratitude. No fear, ma belle; sickness dares not touch me.'
'Then,' said the Queen, 'you will be served in your chamber, and we will finish our game.'
Henry turned submissively away; but Bedford tarried an instant to say, 'Fair sister, he is sore distressed. It would comfort him to have you with him. He has longed for you.'
Catherine opened her beautiful brown eyes in a stare of surprise and reproof at the infraction of the rules of ceremony which she had brought with her. John of Bedford had never seemed to her either beau or courtois, and she looked unutterable things, to which he replied by an elevation of his marked eyebrows.
She sat down to her game, utterly ignoring the other princes in their weather-beaten condition; and they were forced to follow the King, and make their way to their several chambers, for Queen Catherine's will was law in matters of etiquette.
'The proud peat! She is jealous of every word Harry speaks--even to his cousin,' muttered James, as he