CHAPTER XXX

AT CALAIS

I must now ask the reader to waft himself in imagination from Durham to Calais--to suppose that Sir John Neville and Arthur Winram have taken shipping at Dover, and landed near the camp of the besiegers--and that, while the knight has, without the loss of a moment, proceeded to the tent of the king, the page has repaired to that of the prince, to account for his prolonged absence from duty, and to tell of the wondrous things which, in the interval, he has seen and done.

At the door of the pavilion, over which floated the young hero's standard, I encountered Sir Thomas Norwich, who eyed me with a start of surprise.

"What, page!" exclaimed he; "where, in the name of all the saints, have you been?"

"It is a long story."

"Ah! I see. You have been indulging in some more such mysterious adventures as you had at Caen."

"Yes, sir knight," replied I, shaking my head wisely, "such adventures, and so many, that I would fain, with your permission, see my lord the prince to recount them for his diversion."

"A murrain upon you, boy!" exclaimed Sir Thomas, frowning. "Deem you that my lord has so little to think of, that he can find time to listen to your talk about trifles?"

"Lead me to my lord's presence," said I, in a conclusive tone, "and I will stake my head on my intelligence proving of moment enough to secure me an audience."

The air of mystery which I assumed was not lost on the good knight; in fact, I believe his curiosity was highly excited. In any case, without more ado, he drew aside the curtain of the pavilion, and I speedily found myself in the presence of the heir of England.

At that time the Prince of Wales, who was buoyant with all the enthusiasm of youth, and dreaming constantly of the feats of arms performed in other days by paladins and heroes of romance, and not without an ardent ambition to emulate their achievements, was somewhat weary of the inaction of a siege which, being slowly and cautiously conducted, furnished no opportunity of performing the daring deeds in which his soul delighted. Naturally, therefore, anything that gave novelty to the scene was acceptable. As I entered, he was listening to Sir William Pakington, his secretary, who, for his amusement, read aloud from the book called "Tristrem"; and the glance of surprise which his countenance wore as he turned towards me was accompanied with an expression which seemed to intimate that I was welcome.

"Wonder upon wonders!" exclaimed he; "can this be my page Winram--Arthur Winram?"

"The same, my lord, and at your highness's command."

"Methought you had fallen in the battle," said the prince, smiling; "or beshrew me if, at one time, I did not fancy that, like your famous namesake, King Arthur, you had been carried away to Elfland by the faëry queen."

"No, my lord; Elfland may, for aught I know, be a pleasant abode for such as have the fortune to get there; but I have not been beyond the haunts of living men."

I then rapidly related the adventures of which I had been the hero from the time at which the young Count of Flanders had been rescued from my grasp by Philip of Valois, while flying from Cressy, to the hour when the King of Scots had been taken prisoner by John Copeland, while flying from Neville's Cross. The prince listened with attention, now and then putting a question to make me explain events more fully; and when my narrative came to an end, he rose, and for a few moments paced the floor of the pavilion in a reflecting mood.

"By good St. George!" exclaimed he, stopping suddenly, "this news of the defeat of the Scots comes in good time to scare the blood out of Philip's body, and to encourage my lord the king to take this place by storm before the winter sets in. It seems," continued he, "that when this Scottish invasion was bruited about, his holiness the Pope remarked that 'the Scots were the only antidote to the English.' I marvel what he will say now. Two such victories against such odds, and in so many months!" he added, "surely neither history nor song tells of a nation so highly favoured in hours of peril."

"Not that I wot of, my lord," replied I, whose information on the subject was not by any means so extensive as to entitle me to speak with anything like authority.

"Nevertheless," said the prince earnestly, "would to God that you had taken young Louis of Flanders prisoner! There is no prince or lord in Christendom whom my lord the king more eagerly desires to bring over to the English interest; and the exploit would have made your fortune."

"My lord, I did my best," answered I calmly; "and, so long as we fought single-handed, I did not despair. But when so many adversaries appeared, I deemed that I was wise in saving my own life at the expense of a little rough handling to a man of his rank."

The prince laughed gaily, and was about to speak, when, at that moment, the curtain was drawn, and Lord De Ov entered. As he did so, we exchanged glances of mutual defiance; and my hand insensibly stole to the handle of my dagger.

"My lord, pardon my interrupting your conversation," said he, bowing to the prince; "and you, Master Winram, if that be your name," continued he, scowling on me, "you are commanded to repair to the king's tent, and report yourself to the page in waiting; and mayhap," continued he maliciously, as we issued from the pavilion, "you will be able to explain how it came to pass, when strict orders were issued before Cressy that no man should leave the ranks in pursuit, that you alone disobeyed the order."

"My lord," replied I haughtily, "I am prepared to explain all that to the king or the Prince of Wales, if I am questioned; but to you, or such as you, I cannot hold myself in any way responsible."

"Varlet!" cried he, boiling with rage, "but that you are on your way to the king, I should chastise your insolence on the spot."

"Be patient, my lord," replied I, repressing my rising wrath with a stern effort, "and the day will come when you will have no such excuse. Ay--mark me!--the day will surely come."

As I spoke, we parted; and while he stood gazing on me with a face in which antipathy, to the strongest degree, was expressed in the bitterest manner, I pursued my way with an air of calm defiance.