In Doublet and Hose Part 13

"Methinks they say, 'Come not to London, Francis! Come not to London town!' But is there not in truth amidst all their toning some melody or chant?"

"There is, child, but not as thou hast so fancifully thought a warning to thee. How melodious is their chime! Think the rather on that than on aught else."

"Yes, my lord; and how wonderful is the city! Marry! whatever betides I shall have seen London!"

She sat erect as she spoke, and drank in the scene with appreciative eyes. Lord Shrope looked at Britain's metropolis with pride.

The last rays of the setting sun fell lingeringly upon the great city.

For great it was though it numbered but one and thirty thousand inhabitants at this time. Paris alone excelled it in numbers. London, as the representative of England in her supremacy of the seas, her intellectual grandeur, and above all as the friend of those who dared to oppose the power of Rome, London stood in the eyes of all men as the greatest city of the world.

The towers and turrets that gleamed above the strong walls that encircled the city; the sure gates that gave entrance thereto; the princely palaces with their large gardens, rich porches and stately galleries; the open fields that came up close to the walls; the distant hills of Ess.e.x, Middles.e.x, Surrey and Kent covered thickly with woods; the silvery Thames, the silent highway of the Londoners, its bosom covered by a forest of masts and spanned by the great bridge,--even then old,--with its gateways, towers, drawbridges, houses, mills, chapel and wharfs; all these went to make a picture that thrilled every English heart.

The girl looked first this way and then that as though she could never drink her fill.

"My lord," she cried, "prithee tell me which of all those turrets is the Tower?"

"To the east, child. The white tower that rises so majestically from the surrounding turrets. Therein is written the whole history of England.

That is the lofty citadel which it is said the great Julius himself raised. And yonder lies Saint Paul's. That sombre and dungeon like stronghold is Baynard's castle. To our left is Westminster, and yon beautiful palace is Whitehall. It is known of all men how it reverted to the crown at the fall of Wolsey. The queen's father adorned it in its present manner. There stands Somerset house, and yonder is Crosby. On the bankside in Southwark are the theatres and Paris gardens where are the bear pits. Look about thee, Francis. On every building, almost on every stone is writ the history of our forbears. On all those walls are traces of Roman, Briton, Anglo-Saxon and Norman. History in stone. What sermons they might preach to us had they but tongues!"

"It is beautiful!" said Francis again.

"The bells have ceased their chiming," said Lord Shrope. "I would not break into thy enjoyment, child, but we must hasten. Before the darkness falls we must enter Greenwich where Elizabeth is."

With a deep drawn sigh, Francis gave one more look about her and then they pa.s.sed into the city.

Within the immediate vicinity of the walls there were many gardens and open s.p.a.ces. The houses with their fanciful gables and vanes, and tall twisted chimneys invited and enchained the eye. The streets were narrow, and alleys, courts and by-paths abounded in every direction. While they were at a distance they had heard only the subdued noises of the city, above which the bells sounded clearly. But now as they pa.s.sed through the streets their ears were a.s.sailed by the cries of the pent-house keepers, or the noises of the apprentices as they set upon some offending pedestrian. The din was almost indescribable. And yet in the midst of the confusion there was music. From every barber shop came the tw.a.n.g of cittern or guitar, while song burst from the lips of every tankard bearer.

All these, with other wonders, Francis encountered as they wended their way through alleys and byways until presently they came to London Stone.

"Now here will I dismount," cried Francis pleased and excited by all that she had seen and heard.

"But why, child? We have not yet reached the wharf where we take the wherry for Greenwich. Why should you pause here?"

"Because," cried the girl with a laugh, "if I cannot take possession of the city, I can at least emulate that arch traitor, Jack Cade, and strike my staff upon this stone." So saying she struck the ancient stone a sharp blow with her whip.

"Beshrew me, girl!" cried the n.o.bleman laughing, "thou shouldst in very truth have been a boy! Marry! who but a lad would have thought on such a thing! But hasten! The last rays of yon setting sun must see us at the palace."

Francis remounted her palfrey, and without further incident they came to the wharf. Leaving their horses in the charge of some of the servitors of Lord Shrope they descended the stairs that led through one of the numerous water gates to the river, and entered one of the wherries that lay cl.u.s.tered about waiting for fares.

"See the barges," cried the girl as they shot London Bridge and pa.s.sed down the river. "How many there are!"

The bosom of the river was covered over with barges, wherries and vessels of every description. Busy as it was fleets of swans were sailing upon its smooth surface, the noise of their gabble mingling agreeably with the song of the watermen.

"Yes, many;" a.s.sented Lord Shrope in answer to the girl's remark, as retinues of barges pa.s.sed them, filled with many a freight of brave men and beautiful women. "Hearken, how the oarsmen keep time to their oars."

Francis listened with delight as the song of the wherrymen swelled in a mighty chorus, for every boatman sang the same thing:

"Heave ho! rumbelow!"

"And the swans," she cried excitedly.

"Yes; 'tis a pleasant sight, and many have wondered that they should stay upon the river when it is so busy, but they are kindly treated and no harm suffered to come to them. Behold the dwellings of the n.o.bles."

Nothing could have been more picturesque at this time than the north bank of the Thames with its broad gardens, lofty trees and embattled turrets and pinnacles of the palaces, each of which had its landing-place and private retinue of barges and wherries.

"This is the Tower," said the n.o.bleman as they drew near that grim fortress. A low browed projecting arch, above which was a tower forming a striking part of the stronghold, attracted the girl's attention. Steps led up from the river to a small ricket in the arch which gave entrance into the Tower.

"That is the Traitors' Gate," said Lord Shrope. "Through that wicket pa.s.s all those guilty of treason."

A shudder pa.s.sed over Francis as she gazed at the forbidding portals.

"Why dost thou s.h.i.+ver?" asked Lord Shrope kindly, as he noticed her involuntary tremor.

"Sir," answered Francis, in mournful tones, "I fear that Tower. Something seems to whisper me that yon grim walls and I will become better acquainted."

"Now Heaven forfend!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lord Shrope. "Thy doubts of thy reception at the queen's hands render thee fearful. Take courage, child.

All will yet be well. 'Tis not amiss that thou shouldst be doubtful, as the issue is uncertain. Were you but as the queen thinks, and not in masquerade, you would fare well at court. For 'tis worthy the ambition of any young man, be his rank of the highest, or his prospects the most brilliant, to become one of the queen's pensioners. For thus doth Her Majesty accomplish divers things: she honoreth those who are such; obligeth their kindred and alliance, and fortifieth herself; for none can be brought near her person without becoming willing to lay down life itself in her behalf."

"I should not be, were I in truth the boy she thinks me," declared Francis.

"Subdue such spirit, girl," rebuked he. "The queen is graciousness itself to those whom she favors, but frowardness and pertness are not to her liking. In sooth, she tolerates them not in those near her. For thy father's sake, have a care to thy words. The slight disfavor under which thou dost labor will soon be overcome, I doubt not, if thou wilt show thyself submissive to her will. But I mean not to chide thee, child, for I know that thy maiden heart cannot but fail thee in this hour. I would, an I could, turn thy mind to more of liking toward the queen else will it be hard for thee to sue to her. Elizabeth is a great ruler. The land hath never before enjoyed so much of peace and prosperity. Even her enemies cannot gainsay this fact. But I fear that I weary thee, and thou art troubled enough."

"Nay, my lord; I know that thou dost speak from the fulness of experience, and therefore do thy words carry weight. I am not weary but my heart doth fail me when I think of the queen and the court. I am but a maiden, my lord, unlearned in the ways of courtiers, and should I fail to find favor with the queen, who shall stand between me and her will? Who is there who would brave her displeasure to speak one word for me? Marry!

not one!"

"Think not on that aspect, girl, an thou wouldst maintain thy spirit. He who would achieve his end dwells not on failure. Think on thy father. For his sake thou must get the favor of the queen. For his sake so demean thyself that all that he hath done will be condoned. Mark thee, Francis!

There are those who whisper that he is the more inclined to Mary of Scotland than to Elizabeth of England. There lies his danger."

"I thank you, my lord, for your words," said Francis. "Well will I heed them. Thou hast been to me as a father in the discharge of thy duty, though it must be irksome to thee to be burdened with so troublesome a charge. Nathless, I thank thee for thy words and for thy care."

Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke and she turned her head quickly that he might not see them.

"Thou art welcome to all that I have done," said Lord Shrope brusquely to hide his feelings for he was filled with pity for the forlorn state of the girl. "Troublesome thou hast not been, but full of courage until now.

How now? Wilt thou play the girl when thou dost wear that garb? Command thyself, I pray, for we draw near the palace."

"'Tis true I wear this garb," sobbed Francis, "but yet I am a maiden, with a maiden's fears and a maiden's weakness. Prithee bear with me for a moment until I am myself again."

She gave way to the emotion that overwhelmed her, for she was wearied by the journey, excited over the new and strange scenes of the past few days, and overwrought with her fears. Lord Shrope bent a look of compa.s.sion upon her, but uttered no word.

The song of the boatmen ceased as they drew near the landing stairs of the palace. There were numerous wherries waiting to unload their human freight, and this gave Francis time to recover her composure. So soon as she was calm Lord Shrope motioned to the watermen and they drew up at the stairs which led to the great gate of the palace. Courtyard and terrace were filled with gaily-dressed ladies and n.o.bles. Here a lady attended by her gentlewomen traced her way delicately, a gentleman-usher making way for her, her train upheld by a page. Then gallants ruffled along, their attire vying with that of the ladies for brilliancy and richness. Each courtier wore a rose behind his ear, and upon his shoes were roses also to hide the strings. Each bore a long sword upon one side and a poniard on the other, and behind him a body of serving men, proportioned to his estate and quality, all of whom walked with the air of military retainers and were armed with swords and bucklers. Laughing, jesting and making merry, they seemed not to have a care, though many a satin doublet and silken vest concealed a heart as full of anxiety as that of the girl who had just come among them.

"Beshrew me, my lord," exclaimed a n.o.ble in brave attire as Lord Shrope entered the palace yard with his charge. "Art thou come again? Methought I heard that wast sent to France."

"And France is (Francis) here," retorted his lords.h.i.+p, indicating his companion.

"Good! I' faith, very good, if Francis be his name," laughed the other.

"A proper lad, I trow. The queen hath ever an eye for beauty."

"Where is Her Grace?" questioned Lord Shrope.