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小说: the caged lion 字数: 每页4000字

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'With Heaven's aid; no!  But how fares it with poor Madgehis 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 thatI 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 wetnot 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 speakseven to his cousin;' muttered James; as he reached his own room。  'You saw her; though;you saw her!' he added; smiling; as he laid his hand on Malcolm's shoulder。

The boy coloured like a poppy; and answered awkwardly enough; 'The Lady Joan; Sir?'

'Who but the Lady Joan; thou silly lad?  How say'st thou?  Will not Scotland forget in the sight of that fair face all those fule phantasiesthe only folly I heard at Glenuskie?'

'Methinks;' said Malcolm; looking down in sheer awkwardness; 'it were easier to bow to her than to King Harry's dame。  She hath more of stateliness。'

'Humph!' said James; 'dost so serve thy courtly 'prenticeship?  Nay; but in a sort I see thy meaning。  The royal blood of England shows itself to one who hath an eye for princeliness of nature。'

'Nay;' said Malcolm; gratified; 'those dark eyes and swart locks'

'Dark eyesswart locks!' interrupted the King。  'His wits have gone wool…gathering。'

'Indeed; Sir!' exclaimed Malcolm; 'I thought you meant the lady who stood by the Queen's table; with the grand turn of the neck and the white wimple and veil。'

'Pshaw!' said James; 'the foolish callant! he hath taken that great brown Luxemburg nun of Dame Jac's for the Rose of Somerset。'

However; James; seeing how confounded the boy was by this momentary displeasure; explained to him who the other persons he had seen were… …Jaqueline; the runaway Countess of Hainault in her own right; and Duchess of Brabant by marriage; Humfrey; duke of Gloucester; the King's young; brilliant brother; the grave; melancholy Duke of Orleans; who had been taken captive at Agincourt; and was at present quartered at Pontefract; the handsome; but stout and heavy…looking Earl of March; brave Lord Warwick; Sir Lewis Robsart; the old knight to whose charge the Queen had been specially committed from the moment of her betrothal; and a young; bold; gay…looking lad; of Malcolm's own age; but far taller and stouter; and with a merry; half…defiant; half…insouciant air; who had greatly taken his fancy; was; he was told; Ralf Percy; the second son of Sir Harry Percy。

'Of him they called Hotspur?who was taken captive at Otterburn; who died a rebel!' exclaimed Malcolm。

'Ay;' said James; 'but King Harry had learnt the art of war as a boy; first under Hotspur; in Wales; nor doth he love that northern fashion of ours of keeping up feud from generation to generation。  So hath he restored the eldest son to his barony; and set him to watch our Borders; and the younger; Ralf; he is training in his own school of chivalry。'

More wonders for Malcolm Stewart; who had learnt to believe it mere dishonour and tameness to forgive the son for his father's deeds。  A cloistered priest could hardly do so:  pardon to a hostile family came only with the last mortal throe; and here was this warlike king forgiving as a mere matter of course!

'But;' added James; 'you had best not speak of your bent conventwards in the Court here。  I should not like to have you called the monkling!'

Malcolm crimsoned; with the resolution never to betray himself。



CHAPTER V:  WHITTINGTON S FEAST



The next day the royal train set forth from Pontefract; and ere mounting; James presented his young kinsman to the true Joan Beaufortfair…haired; soft…featured; blue…eyed; and with a lovely air of graciousness; as she greeted him with a sweet; blushing; sunny smile; half that of the queen in anticipation; half that of the kindly maiden wishing to set a stranger at ease。  So beautiful was she; that Malcolm felt annihilated at the thought of his blunder of last night。

As they rode on; James was entirely occupied with the lady; and Malcolm was a good deal left to himself; for; though the party was numerous; he knew no one except the Duke of Bedford; who was riding with the King and Lord Warwick; in deep consultation; while Sir Nigel Baird; Lord Marmion; and the rest were in the rear。  He fell into a mood of depression such as had not come upon him since he passed the border; thinking himself despised by all for being ill…favoured and ill…dressed; and chafing; above all; at the gay contempt he fancied in young Ralf Percy's eye。  He became constantly more discontented with this noisy turmoil; and more resolved to insist on returning to the peaceful cloister where alone he could hide his head and be at rest。

The troop halted for what they called their noon meat at the abode of a hospitable Yorkshire knight; but King Henry; in order that the good gentleman's means should not be overtasked; had given directions that only the ladies and the princes should enter the house; while the rest of the suite should take their meal at the village inn。

King James; in attending to Joan; had entirely forgotten his cousin; and Malcolm; doubtful and diffident; was looking hesitatingly at the gateway; when Ralf Percy called out; 'Ha! you there; this is our way。 That is only for the royal folk; but there's good sack and better sport down here!  I'll show you the way;' he added; good…naturedly; softened; as most were; by the startled; wistful; timid look。

Malcolm; ashamed to say he was royal; but surprised at the patronage; was gratefully following; when old Bairdsbrae indignantly laid his hand on the rein。  'Not so; Sir; this is no place for you!'

'Let me alone!' entreated Malcolm; as he saw Percy's amazed look and whistle of scorn。  'They don't want me。'

'You will never have your place if you do not take it;' said the old gentleman; and leading the trembling; shrinking boy up to the door; he continued; 'For the honour of Scotland; Sir!' and then announcing Malcolm by his rank and title; he almost thrust him in。

Fancying he detected a laugh on Ralf Percy's face; and a sneer on that of the stout English porter; Malcolm felt doubly wretched as he was ushered into the hall and the buzz of talk and the confusion made by the attendance of the worthy knight and his many sons; one of whom; waiting with better will than skill; had nearly run down the shy limping Scotsman; who looked wildly for refuge at some table。  In his height of distress; a kindly gesture of invitation beckoned to him; and he found himself seated and addressed; first in French; and then in careful foreign English; by the same lady whom he had yesterday taken for Joan of Somerset; namely; Esclairmonde de Luxemburg。

He was too much confused to look up till the piece of pasty and the wine with which the lady had caused him to be supplied were almost consumed; and it was not till she had made some observations on the journey that he became at ease enough to hazard any sort of answer; and then it was in his sweet low Scottish voice; with that irresistibly attractive look of shy wistful gratitude in his great soft brown eyes; while his un…English accent caused her to say; 'I am a stranger here; like yourself; my Lord;' and at the same moment he first raised his eyes to behold what seemed to him perfect beauty and dignity; an oval face; richly…tinted olive complexion; dark pensive eyes; a sweet grave mouth smiling with encouraging kindness; and a lofty brow that gave the whole face a magnificent air; not so much stately as above and beyond this world。  It might have befitted St。 Barbara or St。 Katherine; the great intellectual virgin visions of purity and holiness of the middle ag

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