When Knighthood Was In Flower 
 
COULD YOU MAKE HIM 
 DUKE OF SUFFOLK?" 
 
WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS 
 IN FLOWER 
 
 OR 
 
 THE LOVE STORY OF 
 
 gvattdon and 2JXa*nj 
 
 THE KING S SISTER, AND HAPPENING IN THE REIGN OF 
 HIS AUGUST MAJESTY, KING HENRY VIII 
 
 REWRITTEN AND RENDERED INTO MODERN ENGLISH FROM 
 SIR EDWIN CASKODEN S MEMOIR 
 
 BY EDWIN CASKODEN 
 
 [CHARLES MAJOR] 
 
 THOUSAND 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA, U. S. A. 
 
 THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Copyright, 1898 
 
 By 
 The Bowen-Merrill Company 
 
 HENRY MORSE 
 
 Published September, 1898. Reprinted in October, twice 
 in November, three times in December, 1898, three times in 
 January, 1899, twice in February, five times in March, three 
 times in April, and three times in May, July, August, and 
 September, four times in October and November. The sub 
 sequent editions make a total of over one-quarter million 
 copies printed of this book. 
 
? p , 
 
 TO MY WIPE 
 
 5 !42.i 3 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 tHAP, 
 
 I. 
 
 II. 
 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 V. 
 
 VI. 
 
 VII. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XI. 
 
 XII. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 XV. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 FAG* 
 
 THE CASKODENS , 1 
 
 THE DUEL . 5 
 
 How BRANDON CAME TO COURT , . 11 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY . 19 
 
 A LESSON IN DANCING . , . .37 
 
 AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY , , . 61 
 
 A RIDE TO WINDSOR . . , .73 
 
 LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS ... 83 
 
 THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD . 104 
 
 PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES . 119 
 
 JUSTICE, O KING ! . . , , .138 
 
 Louis XII A SUITOR .... 149 
 
 ATONEMENT . 166 
 
 A GIRL S CONSENT .... 175 
 IN THE SIREN COUNTRY .... 186 
 
 To MAKE A MAN OF HER . . . 201 
 
 A HAWKING PARTY . 211 
 
 THE ELOPEMENT . . . . 221 
 
 To THE TOWER 238 
 
 PROSERPINA 249 
 
 DOWN INTO FRANCE . 263 
 
 LETTERS FROM A QUEEN . . . 277 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 " COULD YOU MAKE HIM DUKE OF SUFFOLK ? " . . Frontispiece 
 " HAVE I THE HONOR TO FIND THE PRINCESS?" . . e . . . 29 
 
 M MY LORD HAS DROPPED HIS SWORD." 65 
 
 81 WHEN WE CAME UP ... MARY SAID, I FEAR MY GIRTH IS 
 
 LOOSE. " 75 
 
 - BRANDON THRUST HIS SWORD INTO THE HORSE S THROAT." . . 116 
 
 :( I RODE UP TO THE KING AND WITH UNCOVERED HEAD 
 
 ADDRESSED HIM. ..." 142 
 
 le IT IS MY TURN TO ASK FORGIVENESS. ..." 171 
 
 |{ SHE WENT ALONE, ONE AFTERNOON, TO SEE BRANDON." . . . 193 
 
 * ! GOOD-BYE, MY FRIEND, . . . AND SHE FLEW HER BIRD . . ." 214 
 
 64 . . . I DELIVERED THE REST OF MARY S MESSAGE." . . . . 220 
 
 ** , . . ONE OF THOSE BLACK NIGHTS FIT FOR WITCH TRAVEL 
 ING." . 222 
 
 * THESE FELLOWS . . . GATHERED ABOUT MARY TO INSPECT 
 
 HER." 231 
 
 K * AT MIDNIGHT A BODY OF YEOMEN . . . TOOK POSSESSION OF 
 
 THE BOW AND STRING." . . 238 
 
 * MARY , . SAID, IT WAS LIKE A PLAY WEDDING. " , , . 269 
 
"Cloth of gold do not despise, 
 
 Though thou be match d with cloth of frize; 
 
 Cloth of frize, be not too bold, 
 
 Though thou be match d with cloth of gold." 
 
 * Inscription on a label affixed to Brandon s lance nnder a pictnrs 
 of Mary Tudor and Charles Brandon, at Strawberry Hill. 
 
"There lived a Knight, when Knighthood was in fiow r, 
 Who charmed alike the tilt-yard and the bow r." 
 
WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 THE CASKODENS 
 
 We Caskodens take great pride in our ancestry. Some 
 persons, I know, hold all that to be totally un-Solomon- 
 like and the height of vanity, but they, usually, have no 
 ancestors of whom to be proud. The man who does not 
 know who his great-grandfather was, naturally enough 
 would not care what he was. The Caskodens have pride 
 of ancestry because they know both who and what. 
 
 Even admitting that it is vanity at all, it is an impersonal 
 sort of failing, which, like the excessive love of country, 
 leans virtueward ; for the man who fears to disgrace his 
 ancestors is certainly less likely to disgrace himself. Of 
 course there are a great many excellent persons who can 
 go no further back than papa and mamma, who, doubt 
 less, eat and drink and sleep as well, and love as happily, 
 as if they could trace an unbroken lineage clear back to 
 Adam or Xoah, or somebody of that sort. Nevertheless, 
 we Caskodens are proud of our ancestry, and expect to 
 remain so to the end of the chapter, regardless of whom 
 it pleases or displeases. 
 
 We have a right to be proud, for there is an unbroken 
 male line from William the Conqueror down to the pres 
 ent time. In this lineal list are fourteen Barons the title 
 lapsed when Charles I fell twelve Knights of the Garter 
 and forty-seven Knights of Bath and other orders. -A 
 
 (O 
 
2 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Caskoden distinguished himself by gallant service under 
 the Great Norman and was given rich English lands and 
 a fair Saxon bride, albeit an unwilling one, as his reward. 
 With this fair, unwilling Saxon bride and her long plait 
 of yellow hair goes a very pretty, pathetic story, which I 
 may tell you at some future time if you take kindly to this. 
 A Caskoden was seneschal to William Rufus, and sat at 
 the rich, half barbaric banquets in the first Great Hall. 
 Still another was one of the doughty barons who wrested 
 from John the Great Charter, England s declaration of 
 independence ; another was high in the councils of Henry 
 V. I have omitted one whom I should not fail to mention : 
 Adjodika Caskoden, who was a member of the Dunce Par 
 liament of Henry IV, so called because there were no 
 lawyers in it. 
 
 It is true that in the time of Edward IV a Caskoden did 
 stoop to trade, but it was trade of the most dignified, hon 
 orable sort; he was a goldsmith, and his guild, as you 
 know, were the bankers and international clearance house 
 for people, king and nobles. Besides, it is stated on good 
 authority that there was a great scandal wherein the gold 
 smith s wife was mixed up in an intrigue with the noble 
 King Edward ; so we learn that even in trade the Casko- 
 dens were of honorable position and basked in the smile of 
 their prince. As for myself, I am not one of those who 
 object so much to trade ; and I think it contemptible in a 
 iHian to screw his nose all out of place sneering at it, while 
 enjoying every luxury of life from its profits. 
 
 This goldsmith was shrewd enough to turn what some 
 persons might call his ill fortune, in one way, into gain in 
 another. He was one of those happily constituted, thrifty 
 philosophers who hold that even misfortune should not be 
 wasted, and that no evil is so great but the alchemy of 
 
THE CASKODENS 3 
 
 common sense can transmute some part of it into good. 
 So he coined the smiles which the king shed upon his wife 
 he being powerless to prevent, for Edward smiled where 
 he listed, and listed nearly everywhere into nobles, 
 crowns and pounds sterling, and left a glorious fortune to 
 his son and to his son s son, unto about the fourth genera 
 tion, which was a ripe old age for a fortune, I think. 
 How few of them live beyond the second, and fewer still 
 beyond the third. It was during the third generation of 
 this fortune that the events of the following history oc 
 curred. 
 
 Now, it has been the custom of the Caskodens for centu 
 ries to keep a record of events, as they have happened, 
 both private and public. Some are in the form of diaries 
 and journals like those of Pepys and Evelyn ; others in let 
 ters like the Pastons ; others again in verse and song like 
 Chaucer and the Water Poet ; and still others in the more 
 pretentious line of memoir and chronicle. These records 
 we always have kept jealously within our family, thinking 
 it vulgar, like the Pastons, to submit our private affairs to 
 public gaze. 
 
 There can, however, be no reason why those parts 
 treating solely of outside matters should be so carefully 
 guarded, and I have determined to choose for publication 
 such portions as do not divulge family secrets nor skele 
 tons, and which really redound to family honor. 
 
 For this occasion I have selected from the memoir of 
 my worthy ancestor and namesake, Sir Edwin Caskoden 
 grandson of the goldsmith, and Master of the Dance to 
 Henry VII the story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tu 
 dor, sister to the king. 
 
 This story is so well known to the student of English 
 history that I fear its repetition will lack that zest which 
 
4 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 attends the development of an unforeseen denouement. 
 But it is of so great interest, and is so full, in its sweet, 
 fierce manifestation, of the one thing insoluble by time, 
 Love, that I will nevertheless rewrite it from old Sir 
 Edwin s memoir. Not so much as an historical narrative, 
 although I fear a little history will creep in, despite me, 
 but simply as a picture of that olden long ago, which, try 
 as we will to put aside the hazy, many-folded curtain of 
 time, still retains its shadowy lack of sharp detail, toning 
 down and mellowing the hard aspect of real life harder 
 and more unromantic even than our own into the blend 
 ing softness of an exquisite mirage. 
 
 I might give you the exact words in which Sir Edwin 
 wrote, and shall now and then quote from contemporane 
 ous chronicles in the language of his time, but should I so 
 write at all, I fear the pleasure of perusal would but poorly 
 pay for the trouble, as the English of the Bluff King is 
 almost a foreign tongue to us. I shall, therefore, with a 
 few exceptions, give Sir Edwin s memoir in words, spell 
 ing and idiom which his rollicking little old shade will 
 probably repudiate as none of his whatsoever. So, if you 
 happen to find sixteenth century thought hobnobing in the 
 same sentence with nineteenth century English, be not 
 disturbed ; I did it : If the little old fellow grows grandil 
 oquent or garrulous at the time he did that. If you find 
 him growing super-sentimental, remember that sentiment- 
 alism was the life-breath of chivalry just then approaching 
 its absurdest climax in the bombastic conscientiousness of 
 Bayard and the whole mental atmosphere laden with its 
 pompous nonsense. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE DUEL 
 
 It sometimes happens, Sir Edwin says, that when a 
 woman will she won t, and when she won t she will ; but 
 usually in the end the adage holds good. That sentence 
 may not be luminous with meaning, but I will give you an 
 illustration. 
 
 I think it was in the spring of 1509, at any rate soon 
 after the death of the "Modern Solomon," as Queen Cath 
 erine called her old father-in-law, the late King Henry 
 VII, that his august majesty Henry VIII, "The Vndubi- 
 tate Flower and very Heire of both the sayd Linages," 
 came to the throne of England, and tendered me the hon 
 orable position of Master of the Dance at his sumptuous 
 court. 
 
 As to "worldly goods," as some of the new religionists 
 call wealth, I was very comfortably off ; having inherited 
 from my father, one of the counselors of Henry VII, a 
 very competent fortune indeed. How my worthy father 
 contrived to save from the greedy hand of that rich old 
 miser so great a fortune, I am sure I can not tell. He was 
 the only man of my knowledge who did it; for the old 
 king had a reach as long as the kingdom, and, upon one 
 pretext or another, appropriated to himself everything on 
 which he could lay his hands. My father, however, was 
 himself pretty shrewd at money matters, having inherited 
 along with his fortune a rare knack for keeping it. His 
 father was a goldsmith in the time of King Edward, 
 
 (5) 
 
6 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and enjoyed the marked favor of that puissant prince. 
 
 Being thus in a position of affluence, I cared nothing for 
 the fact that little or no emolument went with the office ; 
 it was the honor which delighted me. Besides, I was 
 thereby an inmate of the king s palace, and brought into 
 intimate relations with the court, and, above all, with the 
 finest ladies of the land the best company a man can 
 keep, since it ennobles his mind with better thoughts, pur 
 ifies his heart with cleaner motives, and makes him gentle 
 without detracting from his strength. It was an office any 
 lord of the kingdom might have been proud to hold. 
 
 Now, some four or five years after my induction to said 
 honorable office, there came to court news of a terrible 
 duel fought down in Suffolk, out of which only one of the 
 four combatants had come alive two, rather, but one of 
 them was in a condition worse than death. The first sur 
 vivor was a son of Sir William Brandon, and the second 
 was a man called Sir Adam Judson. The story went that 
 young Brandon and his elder brother, both just home 
 from the continental wars, had met Judson at an Ipswich 
 inn, where there had been considerable gambling among 
 them. Judson had won from the brothers quite a large 
 sum of money which they had brought home ; for, not 
 withstanding their youth, the elder being but twenty-six 
 and the younger about twenty- four years of age, they had 
 gained great honor and considerable profit in the wars, 
 especially the younger, whose name was Charles. 
 
 It is a little hard to fight for money and then lose it by 
 a single spot upon the die, but such is the fate of him who 
 plays, and a philosopher will swallow his ill luck and take 
 to fighting for more. The Brandons could have done this 
 easily enough, especially Charles, who was an offhand 
 philosopher, rather fond of a good-humored fight, had it 
 
THE DUEL / 
 
 not been that in the course of play one evening the secret 
 of Judson s winning had been disclosed by a discovery 
 that he cheated. The Brandons waited until they were 
 sure, and then trouble began, which resulted in a duel on 
 the second morning following. 
 
 This Judson was a Scotch gentleman of whom very lit 
 tle was known, except that he was counted the most 
 deadly and most cruel duelist of the time. He was called 
 the "Walking Death/ and it is said took pride in the ap 
 pellation. He claimed to have fought eighty-seven duels, 
 in which he had killed seventy-five men, and it was consid 
 ered certain death to meet him. I got the story of the 
 duel afterwards from Brandon as I give it here. 
 
 John was the elder brother, and when the challenge 
 came was entitled to fight first ; a birthright out of which 
 Charles tried in vain to talk him. The brothers told their 
 father, Sir William Brandon, and at the appointed time 
 father and sons repaired to the place of meeting, where 
 they found Judson and his two seconds ready for the fight. 
 
 Sir William was still a vigorous man, with few equals in 
 sword play, and the sons, especially the younger, were 
 better men and more skillful than their father had ever 
 been, yet they felt that this duel meant certain death, so 
 great was Judson s fame for skill and cruelty. Notwith 
 standing they were so handicapped with this feeling of 
 impending evil, they met their duty without a tremor; 
 for the motto of their house was, "Malo Mori Quam 
 Fedrai." 
 
 It was a misty morning in March. Brandon has told me 
 since, that when his elder brother took his stand, it was at 
 once manifest that he was Judson s superior, both in 
 strength and skill, but after a few strokes the brother s 
 blade bent double and broke off short at the hilt when it 
 
8 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 should have gone home. Thereupon, Judson, with a ma 
 lignant smile of triumph, deliberately selected his oppo 
 nent s heart and pierced it with his sword, giving the 
 blade a twist as he drew it out in order to cut and mutilate 
 the more. 
 
 In an instant Sir William s doublet was off, and he was 
 in his dead son s tracks, ready to avenge him or die. Again 
 the thrust which should have killed broke the sword, and 
 the father died as the son had died. 
 
 After this, came young Charles, expecting, but, so great 
 was his strong heart, not one whit fearing, to lie beside his 
 dead father and brother. He knew he was the superior of 
 both in strength and skill, and his knowledge of men and 
 the Noble Art told him they had each been the superior of 
 Judson ; but the fellow s hand seemed to be the hand of 
 death. An opening came through Judson s unskillful 
 play, which gave young Brandon an opportunity for a 
 thrust to kill, but his blade, like his father s and broth 
 er s, bent double without penetrating. Unlike the others, 
 however, it did not break, and the thrust revealed the 
 fact that Judson s skill as a duelist lay in a shirt of mail 
 which it was useless to try to pierce. Aware of this, 
 Brandon knew that victory was his, and that soon he 
 would have avenged the murders that had gone before. 
 He saw that his adversary was strong neither in wind nor 
 arm, and had not the skill to penetrate his guard in a 
 week s trying, so he determined to fight on the defensive 
 until Judson s strength should wane, and then kill him 
 when and how he chose. 
 
 After a time Judson began to breathe hard and his 
 thrusts to lack force. 
 
 "Boy, I would spare you," he said; "I have killed 
 enough of your tribe ; put up your sword and call it quits." 
 
THE DUEL 9 
 
 Young Brandon replied: "Stand your ground, you 
 coward ; you will be a dead man as soon as you grow a 
 little weaker ; if you try to run I will thrust you through 
 the neck as I would a cur. Listen how you snort. I shall 
 soon have you ; you are almost gone. You would spare 
 me, would you? I could preach a sermon or dance a 
 hornpipe while I am killing you. I will not break my 
 sword against your coat of mail, but will wait until you 
 fall from weakness and then Fight, you bloodhound !" 
 
 Judson was pale from exhaustion, and his breath was 
 coming in gasps as he tried to keep the merciless sword 
 from his throat. At last, by a dexterous twist of his blade, 
 Brandon sent Judson s sword flying thirty feet away. The 
 fellow started to run, but turned and fell upon his knees to 
 beg for life. Brandon s reply was a flashing circle of 
 steel, and his sword point cut lengthwise through Judson s 
 eyes and the bridge of his nose, leaving him sightless and 
 hideous for life. A revenge compared to which death 
 would have been merciful. 
 
 The duel created quite a sensation throughout the king 
 dom, for although little was known as to who Judson was, 
 his fame as a duelist was as broad as the land. He had 
 been at court upon several occasions, and, at one time, 
 upon the king s birthday, had fought in the royal lists. So 
 the matter came in for its share of consideration by king 
 and courtiers, and young Brandon became a person of in 
 terest. He became still more so when some gentlemen 
 who had served with him in the continental wars told the 
 court of his daring and bravery, and related stories of 
 deeds at arms worthy of the best knight in Christendom. 
 
 He had an uncle at the court, Sir Thomas Brandon, the 
 king s Master of Horse, who thought it a good oppor 
 tunity to put his nephew forward and let him take his 
 
10 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 chance at winning royal favor. The uncle broached the 
 subject to the king, with favorable issue, and Charles 
 Brandon, led by the hand of fate, came to London Court, 
 where that same fate had in keeping for him events such 
 as seldom fall to the lot of man. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 HOW BRANDON CAME TO COURT 
 
 When we learned that Brandon was coming to court, 
 every one believed he would soon gain the king s favor. 
 How much that would amount to none could tell, as the 
 king s favorites were of many sorts and taken from all 
 conditions of men. There was Master Wolsey, a butcher s 
 son, whom he had first made almoner, then chief counse 
 lor and Bishop of Lincoln, soon to be Bishop of York, and 
 Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church. 
 
 From the other extreme of life came young Thomas, 
 Lord Howard, heir to the Earl of Surrey, and my Lord of 
 Buckingham, premier peer of the realm. Then sometimes 
 would the king take a yeoman of the guard and make him 
 his companion in jousts and tournaments, solely because of 
 his brawn and bone. There were others whom he kept 
 close by him in the palace because of their wit and the 
 entertainment they furnished ; of which class was I, and, 
 I flatter myself, no mean member. 
 
 To begin with, being in no way dependent on the king 
 for money, I never drew a farthing from the royal treas- 
 _ury. This, yon may be sure, did me no harm, for although 
 the king sometimes delighted to give, he always hated to 
 pay. There were other good reasons, too, why I should 
 be a favorite with the king. Without meaning to be vain, 
 I think I may presume to say, with perfect truth, that my 
 conversation and manners were far more pleasing and 
 polished than were usual at that day in England, for I 
 
12 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 made it a point to spend several weeks each year in the 
 noble French capital, the home and center of good-breed 
 ing and politeness. < 
 
 My appointment as Master of the Dance, I am sure, was 
 owing entirely to my manner. My brother, the baron, 
 who stood high with the king, was not friendly toward me 
 because my father had seen fit to bequeath me so good a 
 competency in place of giving it all to the first-born and 
 leaving me dependent upon the tender mercies of an elder 
 brother. So I had no help from him nor from any one 
 else. I was quite small of stature that is lengthwise 
 land, therefore, unable to compete, with lance and mace, 
 with bulkier men ; but I would bet with any man, of any 
 size, on any game, at any place and time, in any amount ; 
 and, if I do say it, who perhaps should not, basked in the 
 light of many a fair smile which larger men had sighed for 
 in vain. 
 
 I did not know when Brandon first came to London. 
 We had all remained at Greenwich while the king went 
 up to Westminster to waste his time with matters of state 
 and quarrel with the parliament, then sitting, over the 
 amount of certain subsidies. 
 
 Mary, the king s sister, then some eighteen or nineteen 
 years of age, a perfect bud, just blossoming into a perfect 
 flower, had gone over to Windsor on a visit to her elder 
 sister, Margaret of Scotland, and the palace was dull 
 enough. Brandon, it seems, had been presented to Henry 
 during this time, at Westminster, and had, to some extent 
 at least, become a favorite before I met him. The first 
 time I saw him was at a joust given by the king at West 
 minster, in celebration of the fact that he had coaxed a 
 good round subsidy out of parliament. 
 
 The queen and her ladies had bee i invited over, and it 
 
HOW BRANDON CAME TO COURT 13 
 
 was known that Mary would be down from Windsor and 
 come home with the king and the court to Greenwich 
 when we should return. So we all went over to West 
 minster the night before the jousts, and were up bright 
 and early next morning to see all that was to be seen. 
 
 [Here the editor sees fit to substitute a description of 
 this tournament taken from the quaint old chronicler, 
 Hall.] 
 
 The morow beyng after dynner, at tyme conuenenient, the 
 Quene with her Ladyes repaired to see the lustes, the trom- 
 pettes blewe vp, and in came many a noble man and Gentlema, 
 rychely appeareiled. takynge vp thir horses, after whome 
 folowed certayne lordes appareiled, they and thir horses, in 
 cloth of Golde and russet and tynsell; Knyghtes in cloth of 
 Golde, and russet Veluet. And a greate nomber of Gentlemen 
 on fote, in russet satyn and yealow, and yomen in russet 
 Damaske and yealow, all the nether parte of euery mans hosen 
 Skarlet, and yealow cappes. 
 
 Then came the kynge vnder a Pauilion of golde, and purpul 
 Veluet embroudered, the compass of the Pauilion about, and 
 valenced with a flat, gold beaten in wyre, with an Imperiall 
 croune in the top, of fyne Golde, his bases and trapper of cloth 
 of Golde, fretted with Damask Golde, the trapper pedant to the 
 tail. A crane and chafron of stele, in the front of the chafro 
 was a goodly plume set full of musers or trimbling spangles of 
 golde. After folowed his three aydes, euery of them vnder a 
 Pauilion of Crymosyn Damaske & purple. The nomber of 
 Gentlemen and yomen a fote, appareiled in russet and yealow 
 was clxviii. Then next these Pauilions came xii chyldren of 
 honor, sitting euery one of them on a greate courser, rychely 
 trapped, and embroudered in seuerall deuises and facions, where 
 lacked neither brouderie nor goldsmythes work, so that euery 
 chyld and horse in deuice and fascion was contrary to the other, 
 which was goodly to beholde. 
 
 Then on the counter parte, entered a Straunger, fyrst on horse- 
 backe in a long robe of Russet satyne, like a recluse or a re- 
 
14 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 ligious, and his horse trapped in the same sewte, without dromme 
 or noyse of mynstrelsye, puttinge a byll of peticion to the Quene, 
 the effect whereof was, that if it would please her to license hym 
 to runne in her presence, he would do it gladly, and if not, then 
 he would departe as he came. After his request was graunted, 
 then he put off hys sayd habyte and was armed at all peces with 
 ryche bases & horse, also rychely trapped, and so did runne his 
 horse to the tylte end, where dieurs men on fote appareiled in 
 Russet satyn awaited on him. Thereupon the Heraulds cryed 
 an Oyez! and the grownd shoke with the trompe of rushynge 
 stedes. Wonder it were to write of the dedes of Amies which 
 that day toke place, where a man might haue seen many a horse 
 raysed on highe with galop, turne and stoppe, maruaylous to 
 behold. C.xiv staves were broke and the kynge being lusty, he 
 and the straunger toke the prices. 
 
 When the queen had given the stranger permission to 
 run, and as he moved away, there was a great clapping of 
 hands and waving of trophies among the ladies, for he was 
 of such noble mien and comely face as to attract the gaze 
 of every one away from even the glittering person of his 
 Majesty the King. 
 
 His hair, worn in its natural length, fell in brown curls 
 back from his forehead almost to the shoulder, a style just 
 then new, even in France. His eyes were a deep blue, and 
 his complexion, though browned by exposure, held a 
 tinge of beauty which the sun could not mar and a girl 
 might envy. He wore neither mustachio nor beard, as 
 men now disfigure their faces since Francis I took a scar 
 on his chin and his clear cut profile, dilating nostrils and 
 mobile, though firm-set mouth, gave pleasing assurance of 
 tenderness, gentleness, daring and strength. 
 
 I was standing near the queen, who called to me : "Who 
 is the handsome stranger that so gracefully asked our 
 license to run ?" 
 
HOW BRANDON CAME TO COURT 15 
 
 "I can not inform your majesty. I never saw him until 
 now. He is the goodliest knight I have ever beheld." 
 
 "That he is," replied the queen ; "and we should like 
 very much to know him. Should we not, ladies ?" There 
 was a chorus of assent from a dozen voices, and I prom 
 ised, after the running, to learn all about him and report. 
 
 It was at this point the heralds cried their "Oyes," and 
 our conversation was at an end for the time. 
 
 As to height, the stranger was full six feet, with ample 
 evidence of muscle, though no great bulk. He was grace 
 itself, and the king afterwards said he had never seen 
 such strength of arm and skill in the use of the lance a 
 sure harbinger of favor, if not of fortune, for the posses 
 sor. 
 
 After the jousting the Princess Mary asked me if I 
 could yet give her an account of the stranger; and as I 
 could not, she went to the king. 
 
 I heard her inquire : 
 
 Who was your companion, brother?" 
 
 "That is a secret, sister. You will find out soon 
 enough, and will be falling in love with him, no doubt. I 
 have always looked upon you as full of trouble for me in 
 that line; you will not so much as glance at anyone I 
 choose for you, but I suppose would be ready enough with 
 your smiles for some one I should not want." 
 
 "Is the stranger one whom you would not want?" asked 
 Mary, with a dimpling smile and a flash of her brown 
 eyes. 
 
 "He most certainly is," returned the king. 
 
 "Then I will fall in love with him at once. In fact, I 
 don t know but I have already." 
 
 "Oh, I have no doubt of that; if I wanted him, he 
 might be Apollo himself and you would have none of 
 
16 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 him." King Henry had been compelled to refuse several 
 very advantageous alliances because this fair, coaxing, 
 self-willed sister would not consent to be a part of the 
 moving consideration. 
 
 "But can you not tell me who he is, and what his de 
 gree ?" went on Mary in a bantering tone. 
 
 "He has no degree; he is a plain, untitled soldier, not 
 even a knight ; that is, not an English knight. I think he 
 has a German or Spanish order of some sort." 
 
 "Not a duke; not an earl; not even a baron or knight? 
 Now he has become interesting." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so ; but don t bother me." 
 
 "Will he be at the dance and banquet to-night?" 
 
 "No ! No ! Now I must go ; don t bother me, I say." 
 And the king moved away. 
 
 That night we had a grand banquet and dance at West 
 minster, and the next day we all, excepting Lady Mary, 
 went back to Greenwich by boat, paying a farthing a head 
 for our fare. This was just after the law fixing the boat 
 fare, and the watermen were a quarreling lot, you may be 
 sure. One farthing from Westminster to Greenwich! 
 Eight miles. No wonder they were angry. 
 
 The next day I went back to London on an errand, and 
 over to Wolsey s house to borrow a book. While there 
 Master Cavendish, Wolsey s secretary, presented me to 
 the handsome stranger, and he proved to be no other 
 than Charles Brandon, who had fought the terrible duel 
 down in Suffolk. I could hardly believe that so mild- 
 mannered and boyish a person could have taken the lead 
 ing part in such a tragedy. But with all his gentleness 
 there was an underlying dash of cool daring which inti 
 mated plainly enough that he was not all mildness. 
 
 We became friends at once, drawn together by that sub- 
 
HOW BRANDON CAME TO COURT 17 
 
 tie human quality which makes one nature fit into another, 
 resulting in friendship between men, and love between 
 men and women. We soon found that we had many tastes 
 in common, chief among which was the strongest of all 
 congenial bonds, the love of books. In fact we had come 
 to know each other through our common love of reading, 
 for he also had gone to Master Cavendish, who had a fine 
 library, to borrow some volumes to take with him down to 
 Greenwich. 
 
 Brandon informed me he was to go to Greenwich that 
 day, so we determined to see a little of London, which was 
 new to him, and then take boat in time to be at the palace 
 before dark. 
 
 That evening, upon arriving at Greenwich, we hunted 
 up Brandon s uncle, the Master of Horse, who invited his 
 nephew to stay with him for the night. He refused, how 
 ever, and accepted an invitation to take a bed in my room. 
 
 The next day Brandon was installed as one of the cap 
 tains of the king s guard, under his uncle, but with no 
 particular duties, except such as should be assigned him 
 from time to time. He was offered a good room on one 
 of the lower floors, but asked, instead, to be lodged in the 
 attic next to me. So we arranged that each had a room 
 opening into a third that served us alike for drawing- 
 room and armory. 
 
 Here we sat and talked, and now and then one would 
 read aloud some favorite passage, while the other kept his 
 own place with finger between the leaves. Here we dis 
 cussed everything from court scandal to religion, and set 
 tled to our own satisfaction, at least, many a great problem 
 with which the foolish world is still wrestling. 
 
 We told each other all our secrets, too, for all the world 
 like a pair of girls. Although Brandon had seen so much 
 
18 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 of life, having fought on the continent ever since he was a 
 boy, and for all he was so much a man of the world, yet 
 had he as fresh and boyish a heart as if he had just come 
 from the clover fields and daisies. He seemed almost dif 
 fident, but I soon learned that his manner was but the cool 
 gentleness of strength. 
 
 Of what use, let me ask, is a friend unless you can un 
 load your heart upon him? It matters not whether the 
 load be joy or sorrow ; if the former, the need is all the 
 greater, for joy has an expansive power, as some persons 
 claim steam has, and must escape from the heart upon 
 some one else. 
 
 So Brandon told me of his hopes and aspirations, chief 
 among which was his desire to earn, and save, enough 
 money to pay the debt against his father s estate, which 
 he had turned over to his younger brother and sisters. He, 
 as the eldest, could have taken it all, for his father had 
 died without a will, but he said there was not enough to 
 divide, so he had given it to them and hoped to leave it 
 clear of debt; then for New Spain, glory and fortune, 
 conquest and yellow gold. He had read of the voyage of 
 the great Columbus, the Cabots, and a host of others, and 
 the future was as rosy as a Cornish girl s cheek. Fortune 
 held up her lips to him, but there s often a sting in a 
 kiss. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE PRINCESS MARY 
 
 Now, at that time, Mar}*, the king s sister, was just 
 ripening into her greatest womanly perfection. Her skin 
 was like velvet ; a rich, clear, rosy snow, with the hot 
 young blood glowing through it like the faint red tinge we 
 sometimes see on the inner side of a white rose leaf. Her 
 hair was a very light brown, almost golden, and fluffy, 
 soft, and fine as a skein of Arras silk. She was of medium 
 height, with a figure that Venus might have envied. Her 
 feet and hands were small, and apparently made for the 
 sole purpose of driving mankind distracted. In fact, that 
 seemed to be the paramount object in her creation, for she 
 had the world of men at her feet. Her greatest beauty 
 was her glowing dark brown eyes, which shone with an 
 ever-changing luster from beneath the shade of the long 
 est, blackest upcurving lashes ever seen. 
 
 Her voice was soft and full, and, except when angry, 
 which, alas, was not infrequent, had a low and coaxing 
 little note that made it irresistible ; she was a most adroit 
 coaxer, and knew her power full well, although she did 
 not always plead, having the Tudor temper and preferring 
 to command when she could. As before hinted, she had 
 coaxed her royal brother out of several proposed mar 
 riages for her, which would have been greatly to his ad 
 vantage ; and if you had only known Henry Tudor, with 
 his vain, boisterous, stubborn violence, you could form 
 some idea of Mary s powers by that achievement alone. 
 
 Will Sommers, the fool, one day spread through court 
 
20 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 an announcement that there would be a public exhibition 
 in the main hall of the palace that evening, when the 
 Princess Mary would perform the somewhat alarming, 
 but, in fact, harmless, operation of wheedling the king 
 out of his ears. This was just after she had coaxed him 
 to annul a marriage contract which her father had made 
 for her with Charles of Germany, then heir to the greatest 
 inheritance that ever fell to the lot of one man : Spain, the 
 Netherlands, Austria, and heaven only knows what else. 
 
 She had been made love to by so many men, who had 
 lost their senses in the dazzling rays of her thousand per 
 fections of whom, I am ashamed to say, that I, for a 
 time, had been insane enough to be one that love had 
 grown to be a sort of joke with her, and man, a poor, con 
 temptible creature, made to grovel at her feet. Not that 
 she liked or encouraged it ; for, never having been moved 
 herself, she held love and its sufferings in utter scorn. 
 Man s love was so cheap and plentiful that it had no value 
 in her eyes, and it looked as if she would lose the best 
 thing in life by having too much of it. 
 
 Such was the royal maid to whose tender mercies, I 
 now tell you frankly, my friend Brandon was soon to be 
 turned over. He, however, was a blade of very different 
 temper from any she had known; and when I first saw 
 signs of a growing intimacy between them I felt, from 
 what little I had seen of Brandon, that the tables were 
 very likely to be turned upon her ladyship. Then thought 
 . I, "God help her," for in a nature like hers, charged with 
 latent force, strong and hot and fiery as the sun s stored 
 rays, it needed but a flash to make it patent, when dam- 
 age was sure to follow for somebody probably Brandon. 
 
 Mary did not come home with us from Westminster the 
 morning after the joustings, as we had expected, but fol- 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 21 
 
 lowed some four or five days later, and Brandon had fairly 
 settled himself at court before her arrival. As neither his 
 duties nor mine were onerous, we had a great deal of time 
 on our hands, which we employed walking and riding, or 
 sitting in our common room reading and talking. Of 
 course, as with most young men, that very attractive 
 branch of natural history, feminology, was a favorite 
 topic, and we accordingly discussed it a great deal ; that is, 
 to tell the exact truth, / did. Although Brandon had 
 seen many an adventure during his life on the continent, 
 which would not do to write down here, he was as little 
 of a boaster as any man I ever met, and, while I am in the 
 truth-telling business, I was as great a braggart of my 
 inches as ever drew the long-bow in that line, I mean. 
 Gods ! I flush up hot, even now, when I think of it. So 
 I talked a great deal and found myself infinitely pleased 
 with Brandon s conversational powers, which were rare; 
 being no less than the capacity for saying nothing, and 
 listening politely to an infinite deal of the same thing, 
 in another form, from me. 
 
 1^ remember that I told him I had known the Princess 
 Mary from a time when she was twelve years old, and 
 how I had made a fool of myself about her. I fear I 
 tried to convey the impression that it was her exalted 
 rank only which made her look unfavorably upon my 
 passion, and suppressed the fact that she had laughed 
 at me good humoredly, and put me off as she would 
 have thrust a poodle from her lap. The truth is, she 
 had always been kind and courteous to me, and had ad 
 mitted me to a degree of intimacy much greater than I 
 deserved. This, partly at least, grew out of the fact 
 that I helped her along the thorny path to 
 knowledge; a road she traveled at an eager gallop, 
 
22 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 for she dearly loved to learn from curiosity perhaps. 
 
 I am sure she held me in her light, gentle heart as a 
 dear friend, but while her heart was filled with this mild 
 warmth for me, mine began to burn with the flame that 
 discolors everything, and I saw her friendliness in a very 
 distorting light. She was much kinder to me than to most 
 men, but I did not see that it was by reason of my abso 
 lute harmlessness ; and, I suppose, because I was a vain 
 fool, I gradually began to gather hope which goes with 
 every vain man s love and what is more, actually climbed 
 to the very apex of idiocy and declared myself. I well 
 knew the infinite distance between us, but like every 
 other man who came within the circle of this charming 
 loadstone I lost my head,- and, in short, made a greater 
 fool of myself than I naturally was which is saying a 
 good deal for that time in my life, God knows ! 
 
 I knew vaguely but did not fairly realize how utterly 
 beyond my reach in every way she was until I opened 
 the flood-gates of my passion as I thought it and saw 
 her smile, and try to check the coming laugh. Then 
 came a look of offended dignity, followed by a quick 
 softening glance. 
 
 "Leave me one friend, I pray you, Edwin. I value 
 you too highly to lose, and esteem you too much to tor 
 ment. Do not make of yourself one of those fools who 
 feel, or pretend to feel, I care not which, such preference 
 for me. You cannot know in what contempt a woman 
 holds a man who follows her though she despises him. 
 No man can beg a woman s love; he must command it; 
 do not join their ranks, but let us be good friends. I 
 will tell you the plain truth ; it would be no different were 
 we botn of the same degree; even then I could not feel 
 toward you as you think you wish, but I can be your 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 23 
 
 friend, and will promise to be that always, if you will 
 promise never again to speak of this to me." 
 
 I promised solemnly and have always kept my word, 
 as this true, gracious woman, so full of faults and beau 
 ties, virtues and failings, has, ever since that day and mo 
 ment, kept hers. It seemed that my love, or what I sup 
 posed was love, left my heart at once, frozen in the cold 
 glint of her eyes as she smiled upon my first avowal ; 
 somewhat as disease may leave the sickened body upon 
 a great shock. And in its place came the restful flame of 
 a friend s love, which so softly warms without burning. 
 But the burning! There is nothing in life worth having 
 compared with it for all its pains and agonies. Is there? 
 
 "Now if you must love somebody," continued the prin 
 cess, "there is Lady Jane Bolingbroke, who is beautiful 
 and good, and admires you, and, I think, could learn to 
 
 " but here the lady in question ran out from behind 
 
 the draperies, where, I believe, she had been listening to 
 it all, and put her hand over her mistress mouth to silence 
 her. 
 
 "Don t believe one word she says, Sir Edwin, cried 
 Lady Jane; " if you do I never will like you." The 
 emphasis on the "will" held out such involuntary promise 
 in case I did not believe the princess, that I at once pro 
 tested total want of faith in a single syllable she had said 
 about her, and vowed that I knew it could not be true ; 
 that I dared not hope for such happiness. 
 
 You see, I had begun to make love to Jane almost be 
 fore I was oft my knees to Mary, and, therefore, I had 
 not been much hurt in Mary s case. I had suffered mere 
 ly a touch of the general epidemic, not the lingering, 
 chronic disease that kills. 
 
 Then I knew that the best cure for the sting which 
 
24 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 lies in a luckless love is to love elsewhere, and Jane, as 
 she stood there, so petite, so blushing and so fair, struck 
 me as quite the most pleasing antidote I could possibly 
 find, so I began at once to administer to myself the delight 
 ful counter-irritant. It was a happy thought for me; 
 one of those which come to a man now and then, and for 
 which he thanks his wits in every hour of his after life. 
 
 But the winning of Jane was not so easy a matter as 
 my vanity had prompted me to think. I started with a 
 handicap, since Jane had heard my declaration to Mary, 
 and I had to undo all that before I could do anything 
 else. Try the same thing yourself with a spirited girl, 
 naturally laughter-loving and coy, if you think it a simple, 
 easy undertaking. I began to fear I should need another 
 antidote long before I heard her sweet soul-satisfying 
 "yes." I do not believe, however, I could have found in 
 the whole world an antidote to my love for Jane. You 
 see I tell you frankly that I won her, and conceal nothing, 
 so far as Jane and I are concerned, for the purpose of 
 holding you in suspense. I have started out to tell you 
 the history of two other persons if I can ever come to it 
 but find a continual tendency on the part of my own 
 story to intrude, for every man is a very important per 
 sonage to himself. I shall, however, try to keep it out. 
 
 In the course of my talk with Brandon I had, as I 
 have said, told him the story of Mary, w r ith some slight 
 variations and coloring, or rather discoloring, to make it 
 appear a little less to my discredit than the barefaced 
 truth would have been. I told him also about Jane ; 
 and, I grieve and blush to say, expressed a confidence in 
 that direction I little felt. 
 
 It had been perhaps a year since my adventure with 
 Mary, and I had taken all that time trying to convince 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 25 
 
 Jane that I did not mean a word I had said to her mis 
 tress, and that I was very earnest in everything I said 
 to her. But Jane s ears would have heard just as much 
 had they been the pair of beautiful little shells they so 
 much resembled. This troubled me a great deal, and the 
 best I could hope was that she held me on probation. 
 
 On the evening of the day Mary came home to Green 
 wich, Brandon asked: "Who and what on earth is this 
 wonderful Mary I hear so much about ? They say she is 
 coming home to-day, and the court seems to have gone 
 mad about it ; I hear nothing but Mary is coming ! Mary 
 is coming ! Mary ! Mary ! from morning until night. 
 They say Buckingham is beside himself for love of her. 
 He has a wife at home, if I am right, and is old enough to 
 be her father. Is he not? I assented; and Brandon 
 continued : "A man who will make such a fool of him 
 self about a woman is woefully weak. The men of the 
 court must be poor creatures." 
 
 He had much to learn about the power of womanhood. 
 There is nothing on earth but you know as much about \ 
 it as I do. 
 
 "Wait until you see her/ I answered, "and you will 
 be one of them, also. I flatter you by giving you one 
 hour with her to be heels over head in love. With an or 
 dinary man it takes one-sixtieth of that time ; so you see 
 I pay a compliment to your strength of mind." 
 
 "Nonsense!" broke in Brandon. "Do you think I 
 left all my wits down in Suffolk? Why, man, she is the 
 sister of the king, and is sought by kings and emperors. I 
 might as well fall in love with a twinkling star. Then, 
 besides, my heart is not on my sleeve. You must think 
 me a fool ; a poor, enervated, simpering fool like like 
 well, like one of those nobles of England. Don t put me 
 
26 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 down with them, Caskoden, if you would remain my 
 friend." 
 
 We both laughed at this sort of talk, which was a little 
 in advance of the time, for a noble, though an idiot, to the 
 most of England was a noble still, God-created and to be 
 adored. 
 
 Another great bond of sympathy between Brandon and 
 myself was a community of opinion concerning certain 
 theories as to the equality of men and tolerance of relig 
 ious thought. We believed that these things would yet 
 come, in spite of kingcraft and priestcraft, but wisely 
 kept our pet theories to ourselves; that is, between our 
 selves. 
 
 Of what use is it to argue the equality of human kind 
 to a man who honestly thinks he is better than any one 
 else, or to one who really believes that some one else is 
 better than he ; and why dispute about the various ways of 
 saving one s soul, when you are not even sure you have 
 a soul to save ? When I open my mouth for public utter 
 ance, the king is the best man in Christendom, and his 
 premier peer of the realm the next best. When the king 
 is a Catholic I go to Mass; since, praised be the Lord, 
 I have brains enough not to let my head interfere with 
 \ the set ways of a stone wall. 
 
 Now, when Mary returned the whole court rejoiced, 
 and I was anxious for Brandon to meet her and that they 
 should become friends. There would be no trouble in 
 bringing this meeting about, since, as you know, I was 
 upon terms of intimate friendship with Mary, and was 
 the avowed, and, as I thought, at least hoped, all but ac 
 cepted lover of her first lady in waiting and dearest friend, 
 Lady Jane Bolingbroke. Brandon, it is true, was not 
 noble; not even an English knight, while I was both 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 27 
 
 knighted and noble; but he was of as old a family as 
 England boasted, and near of kin to some of the best blood 
 of the land. The meeting came about sooner than I ex 
 pected, and was very near a failure. It was on the second 
 morning after Mary s arrival at Greenwich. Brandon 
 and I were walking in the palace park when we met Jane, 
 and I took the opportunity to make these, my two best- 
 loved friends, acquainted. 
 
 "How do you do, Master Brandon?" said Lady Jane, 
 holding out her plump little hand, so white and soft, and 
 dear to me. "I have heard something of you the last day 
 or so from Sir Edwin, but had begun to fear he was not 
 going to give me the pleasure of knowing you. I hope I 
 may see you often now, and that I may present you to my 
 mistress." 
 
 With this, her eyes, bright as overgrown dewdrops, 
 twinkled with a mischievous little smile, as if to say : 
 "Ah, another large handsome fellow to make a fool of 
 himself." 
 
 Brandon acquiesced in the wish she had made, and, 
 after the interchange of a few words, Jane said her mis 
 tress was waiting at the other side of the grounds, and 
 that she must go. She then ran off with a laugh and a 
 courtesy, and was soon lost to sight behind the shrubbery 
 at the turning of the walk. 
 
 In a short time we came to a summer house near the 
 marble boat-landing, where we found the queen and some 
 of her ladies awaiting the rest of their party for a trip 
 down the river, which had been planned the day before. 
 Brandon was known to the queen and several of the 
 ladies, although he had not been formally presented at 
 an audience. Many of the king s friends enjoyed a con 
 siderable intimacy with the whole court without ever re- 
 
28 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 ceiving the public stamp of recognition, socially, which 
 goes with a formal presentation. 
 
 The queen, seeing us, sent me off to bring the king. 
 After I had gone, she asked if any one had seen the Prin 
 cess Mary, and Brandon told her Lady Jane had said she 
 was at the other side of the grounds. Thereupon her 
 majesty asked Brandon to find the princess and to say that 
 she was wanted. 
 
 Brandon started off and soon found a bevy of girls sit 
 ting on some benches under a spreading oak, weaving 
 spring flowers. He had never seen the princess, so could 
 not positi/ely know her. As a matter of fact, he did 
 know her, as soon as his eyes rested on her, for she could 
 not be mistaken among a thousand there was no one 
 like her or anything near it. Some stubborn spirit of op 
 position, however, prompted him to pretend ignorance. 
 All that he had heard of her wonderful power over men, 
 and the servile manner in which they fell before her, had 
 aroused in him a spirit of antagonism, and had begotten 
 a kind of distaste beforehand. He was wrong in this, 
 because Mary was not a coquette in any sense of the 
 word, and did absolutely nothing to attract men, except to 
 be so beautiful, sweet and winning that they could not let 
 her alone ; for all of which surely the prince of fault-find 
 ers himself could in no way blame her. 
 
 She could not help it that God had seen fit to make her 
 the fairest being on earth, and the responsibility \vould 
 have to lie where it belonged with God; Mary would 
 have none of it. Her attractiveness was not a matter of 
 volition or intention on her part. She was too young for 
 deliberate snare-setting though it often begins very 
 early in life and made no effort to attract men. Man s 
 love was too cheap a thing for her to strive for, and I am 
 

 "HAVE I THE HONOR TO 
 FIND THE PRINCESS?" 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 29 
 
 sure, in her heart, she would infinitely have preferred to 
 
 live without it that is, until the right one should come. 
 The right one is always on his way, and, first or last, is 
 sure to come to every woman sometimes, alas ! too late 
 and when he comes, be it late or early, she crowns him, 
 even though he be a long-eared ass. Blessed crown ! and 
 thrice-blessed blindness else there were fewer corona 
 tions. 
 
 So Brandon stirred this antagonism and determined not 
 to see her manifold perfections, which he felt sure were 
 exaggerated; but to treat her as he would the queen 
 who was black and leathery enough to frighten a satyr 
 with all respect due to her rank, but with his own opinion 
 of her nevertheless, safely stored away in the back of his 
 head. 
 
 Coming up to the group Brandon took off his hat, and, 
 with a graceful little bow that let the curls fall around his 
 face, asked: "Have I the honor to find the Princess 
 Mary among these ladies?" 
 
 Alan-, whom I know you will at once say was thor 
 oughly spoiled, without turning her face toward him, re 
 plied : 
 
 "Is the Princess Mary a person of so little consequence 
 about the court that she is not known to a mighty captain 
 of the guard?" 
 
 He wore his guardsman s doublet, and she knew his 
 rank by his uniform. She had not noticed his face. 
 
 Quick as a flash came the answer : "I can not say of 
 what consequence the Princess Mary is about the court ; 
 it is not my place to determine such matters. I am sure, 
 however, she is not here, for I doubt not she would have 
 given a gentle answer to a message from the queen. I 
 shall continue my search." L With this, he turned to leave, 
 
30 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and the ladies, including Jane, who was there and saw it 
 all and told me of it, awaited the bolt they knew would 
 come, for they saw the lightning gathering in Mary s 
 eyes. 
 
 Mary sprang to her feet with an angry flush in her face, 
 exclaiming, "Insolent fellow, I am the Princess Mary; if 
 you have a message, deliver it and be gone." You may 
 be sure this sort of treatment was such as the cool-headed, 
 daring Brandon would repay with usury ; so, turning upon 
 his heel, and almost presenting his back to Mary, he spoke 
 to Lady Jane : 
 
 "Will your ladyship say to her highness that her maj 
 esty, the queen, awaits her coming at the marble land- 
 ing?" 
 
 "No need to repeat the message, Jane," cried Mary ; 
 "I have ears and can hear for myself." Then turning to 
 Brandon: "If your insolence will permit you to receive 
 a message from so insignificant a person as the king s 
 sister, I beg you to say to the queen that I shall be with 
 her presently." 
 
 He did not turn his face toward Mary, but bowed again 
 to Jane. 
 
 "May I ask your ladyship further to say for me that if 
 I have been guilty of any discourtesy I greatly regret it. 
 My failure to recognize the Princess Mary grew out of 
 my misfortune in never having been allowed to bask in 
 the light of her countenance. I can not believe the fault 
 lies at my door, and hope for her own sake that her 
 highness, upon second thought, will realize how ungentle 
 and unkind some one else has been." And with a sweep 
 ing courtesy he walked quickly down the path. 
 
 "The insolent wretch I" cried one. 
 
 "He ought to hold papers on the pillory," said another. 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 31 
 
 "Nothing of the sort," broke in sensible, fearless, little 
 Jane; "I think the Lady Mary was wrong. He could not 
 have known her by inspiration." 
 
 "Jane is right/ exclaimed Mary, whose temper, if short, 
 was also short-lived, and whose kindly heart always set 
 her right if she but gave it a little time. Her faults were 
 rather those of education than of nature. Jane is right ; 
 it was what I deserved. I did not think when I spoke, 
 and did not really mean it as it sounded. He acted like 
 a man, and looked like one, too, when he defended him 
 self. I warrant the pope at Rome could not run over him 
 with impunity. For once I have found a real live man, 
 full of manliness. I saw him in the lists at Windsor a 
 week ago, but the king said his name was a secret, and I 
 could not learn it. He seemed to know you, Jane. Who 
 is he ? Now tell us all you know. The queen can wait." 
 
 And her majesty waited on a girl s curiosity. 
 
 I had told Jane all I knew about Brandon, so she was 
 prepared, with full information, and gave it. She told 
 the princess who he was ; of his terrible duel with Judson ; 
 his bravery and adventures in the wars ; his generous gift 
 to his brother and sisters, and lastly, "Sir Edwin says he 
 is the best-read man in the court, and the bravest, truest 
 heart in Christendom." 
 
 After Jane s account of Brandon, they all started by 
 a roundabout way for the marble landing. In a few mo 
 ments whom did they see, coming toward them down the 
 path, but Brandon, who had delivered his message and 
 continued his walk. When he saw whom he was about to 
 meet, he quietly turned in another direction. The Lady 
 Mary had seen him, however, and told Jane to run for 
 ward and bring him to her. She soon overtook him and 
 said: 
 
32 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "Master Brandon, the princess wishes to see you." 
 Then, maliciously, "You will suffer this time. I assure 
 you she is not used to such treatment. It was glorious, 
 though, to see you resent such an affront. Men usually 
 smirk and smile foolishly and thank her when she smites 
 them." 
 
 Brandon was disinclined to return. 
 
 "I am not in her highness s command," he answered, 
 "and do not care to go back for a reprimand when I am in 
 no way to blame." 
 
 "Oh, but you must come; perhaps she will not scold 
 this time," and she put her hand upon his arm, and laugh 
 ingly drew him along. Brandon, of course, had to sub 
 mit when led by so sweet a captor anybody would. So 
 fresh, and fair, and lovable was Jane, that I am sure any 
 thing masculine must have given way. 
 
 Coming up to the princess and her ladies, who were 
 waiting, Jane said, "Lady Mary, let me present Master 
 Brandon, who, if he has offended in any way, humbly sues 
 for pardon." That was the one thing Brandon had no 
 notion on earth of doing, but he let it go as Jane had put 
 it, and this was his reward : 
 
 "It is not Master Brandon who should sue for pardon," 
 responded the princess, "it is I who was wrong. I blush 
 for what I did and said. Forgive me, sir, and let us start 
 anew." At this she stepped up to Brandon and offered 
 him her hand, which he, dropping to his knee, kissed 
 most gallantly. 
 
 "Your highness, you can well afford to offend when you 
 have so sweet and gracious a talent for making amends ; 
 A wrong acknowledged/ as some one has said, becomes 
 an obligation/ ): He looked straight into the girl s eyes 
 as he said this, and his gaze was altogether too strong for 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 33 
 
 her, so the lashes fell. She flushed and said with a smile 
 that brought the dimples : 
 
 "I thank you ; that is a real compliment." Then laugh 
 ingly : "Much better than extravagant comments on one s 
 skin, and eyes, and hair. We are going to the queen at 
 the marble landing; will you walk with us, sir?" And 
 they strolled away together, while the other girls followed 
 in a whispering, laughing group. 
 
 Was there ever so glorious a calm after such a storm ? 
 
 "Then those mythological compliments," continued 
 Mary, "don t you dislike them ?" 
 
 "I can t say that I have ever received many none that 
 I recall," replied Brandon, with a perfectly straight face, 
 but with a smile trying its best to break out. 
 
 "Oh ! you have not ? Well ! how would you like to 
 have somebody always telling you that Apollo was hump 
 backed and misshapen compared with you ; that Endymion 
 would have covered his face had he but seen yours, and 
 so on?" 
 
 "I don t know, but I think I should like it from some 
 persons," he replied, looking ever so innocent. 
 
 This savored of familiarity after so brief an acquaint 
 ance, and caused the princess to glance up in slight sur 
 prise ; but only for the instant, for his innocent look dis 
 armed her. 
 
 "I have a mind to see," she returned, laughing and 
 throwing her head back, as she looked up at him out of 
 the corner of her lustrous eyes. "But I will pay you a 
 better compliment. I positively thank you for the re 
 buke. I do many things like that, for which I am always 
 sorry. Oh ! you don t know how difficult it is to be a 
 good princess." And she shook her head, with a gather 
 ing of little troubled-wrinkles in her forehead, as much 
 3 
 
34 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 as to say, "There is no getting away from it, though." 
 Then she breathed a soft little sigh of tribulation as they 
 walked on. 
 
 "I know it must be a task to be good when everybody 
 flatters even one s shortcomings," said Brandon, and then 
 continued in a way that, I am free to confess, was some 
 thing priggish. "It is almost impossible for us to see our 
 own faults, even when others are kind enough to point 
 them out, for they are right ugly things and unpleasant 
 to look upon. But lacking those outside monitors, one 
 must all the more cultivate the habit of constant inlooking 
 and self-examination. If we are only brave enough to 
 confront our faults and look them in the face, ugly as 
 they are, we shall be sure to overcome the worst of them. 
 A striving toward good will achieve at least a part of it." 
 
 "Oh !" returned the princess, "but what is good and 
 what is wrong? So often we can not tell them apart un 
 til we look back at what we have done, and then it is all 
 too late. I truly wish to be good more than I desire any 
 thing else in the world. I am so ignorant and helpless, 
 and have such strong inclinations to do wrong that some 
 times I seem to be almost all wrong. The priests say so 
 much, but tell us so little. They talk about St. Peter and 
 St. Paul, and a host of other saints and holy fathers and 
 what nots, but fail to tell us what we need every moment 
 of our lives ; that is, how to know the right when we see 
 it, and how to do it ; and how to know T the wrong and how 
 avoid it. They ask us to believe so much, and insist that 
 faith is the sum of virtue, and the lack of it the sum of 
 sin ; that to faith all things are added ; but we might be 
 lieve every syllable of their whole disturbing creed, and 
 then spoil it all through blind ignorance of what is right 
 and what is wrong." 
 
THE PRINCESS MARY 35 
 
 "As to knowing right and wrong," replied Brandon, "I 
 think I can give you a rule which, although it may not 
 cover the whole ground, is excellent for every-day use. It 
 is this : Whatever makes others unhappy is wrong ; what 
 ever makes the world happier is good. As to how w r e 
 are always to do this, I can not tell you. One has to 
 learn that by trying. We can but try, and if we fail alto 
 gether, there is still virtue in even futile effort toward the 
 right." 
 
 Alary bent her head as she walked along in thought. 
 
 "What you have said is the only approach to a rule for 
 knowing and doing the right, I have ever heard. (Xow 
 what do you think of me as a flatterer?) But it will do 
 no good ; the bad is in me too strong ; it always does itself 
 before I can apply any rule, or even realize what is com 
 ing." And again she shook her head with a bewitching 
 little look of trouble. 
 
 "Pardon me, your highness ; but there is no bad in you. 
 It has been put on you by others, and is all on the outside ; 
 there is none of it in your heart at all. That evil which 
 you think comes out of you, simply falls off you ; your 
 heart is all right, or I have greatly misjudged you." He 
 was treating her almost as if she were a child. 
 
 "I fear, blaster Brandon, you are the most adroit flat 
 terer of all," said Mary, shaking her head and looking up 
 at him with a side glance, "people have deluged me with 
 all kinds of flattery I have the different sorts listed and 
 labeled but no one has ever gone to the extravagant 
 length of calling me good. Perhaps they think I do not 
 care for that; but I like it best. I don t like the others 
 at all. If I am beautiful or not, it is as God made me, 
 and I have nothing to do with it, and desire no credit, 
 but if I could only be good it might be my own doing, 
 
36 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 perhaps, and I ought to have praise. I wonder if there 
 is really and truly any good in me, and if you have read 
 me aright." Then looking up at him with a touch of 
 consternation : "Or are you laughing at me?" 
 
 Brandon wisely let the last suggestion pass unnoticed. 
 
 "I am sure that I am right ; you have glorious capacities 
 
 for good, but alas ! corresponding possibilities for evil. 
 
 It will eventually all depend upon the man you marry. 
 
 He can make out of you a perfect woman, or the re- 
 
 \ verse." Again there was the surprised expression in 
 
 Mary s face, but Brandon s serious look disarmed her. 
 
 "I fear you are right, as to the reverse, at any rate ; 
 and the worst of it is, I shall never be able to choose a 
 man to help me, but shall sooner or later be compelled to 
 marry the creature who will pay the greatest price." 
 
 "God forbid !" said Brandon reverently. 
 
 They were growing rather serious, so Mary turned the 
 conversation again into the laughing mood, and said, with 
 a half sigh : "Oh ! I hope you are right about the pos 
 sibilities for good, but you do not know. Wait until you 
 have seen more of me." 
 
 "I certainly hope I shall not have long to wait." 
 
 The surprised eyes again glanced quickly up to the se 
 rious face, but the answer came : "That you shall not ; 
 but here is the queen, and I suppose we must have the 
 benediction." Brandon understood her hint that the 
 preaching was over, and taking it for his dismissal, play 
 fully lifted his hands in imitation of the old Bishop of 
 Canterbury, and murmured the first line of the Latin bene 
 diction. Then they both laughed and courtesied, and 
 Brandon walked away. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 A LESSON IN DANCING 
 
 I laughed heartily when Jane told me of the tilt be 
 tween Brandon and Princess Mary, the latter of whom 
 was in the habit of saying unkind things and being 
 thanked for them. 
 
 Brandon was the wrong man to say them to, as Mary 
 learned. He was not hot-tempered; in fact, just the re 
 verse, but he was the last man to brook an affront, and 
 the quickest to resent, in a cool-headed, dangerous way, an 
 intentional offense. 
 
 He respected himself and made others do the same, or 
 seem to do so, at least. He had no vanity which is but 
 an inordinate desire for those qualities that bring self-re 
 spect, and often the result of conscious demerit but he 
 knew himself, and knew that he was entitled to his own 
 good opinion. He was every inch a man, strong, intelli 
 gent and brave to temerity, with a reckless disregard of 
 consequences, which might have been dangerous had it not 
 been tempered by a dash of prudence and caution that 
 gave him ballast. 
 
 I was not surprised when I heard of the encounter ; for 
 I knew enough of him to be sure that Mary s high-handed 
 ness would meet its counterpart in my cool friend Bran 
 don. It was, however, an unfortunate victory, and what 
 all Mary s beauty and brightness would have failed to do, 
 her honest, open acknowledgment of wrong, following 
 so quickly upon the heels of her fault, accomplished 
 
 (37) 
 
38 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 . easily. It drew him within the circle of her fatal attrac 
 tions, and when Jane told me of it, I knew his fate was 
 sealed, and that, sooner or later, his untouched heart and 
 cool head would fall victim to the shafts that so surely 
 winged all others. 
 
 It might, and probably would be, "later," since, as Bran 
 don had said, he was not one of those who wore his 
 heart upon his sleeve. Then he had that strong vein of 
 prudence and caution, which, in view of Mary s unat- 
 tainableness, would probably come to his help. But 
 never was man s heart strong enough to resist Mary 
 Tudor s smile for long. 
 
 There was this difference between Brandon and most 
 others; he would be slow to love, but when love should 
 once fairly take root in his intense nature, he would not 
 do to trifle with. 
 
 The night after the meeting, Mary cuddled up to Jane, 
 who slept with her, and whispered, half bashfully: 
 
 "Tell me all about Brandon ; I am interested in him. I 
 believe if I knew more persons like him I should be a bet 
 ter girl, notwithstanding he is one of the boldest men I 
 ever knew. He says anything he wishes, and, with all his 
 modest manner, is as cool with me as if I were a burgher s 
 daughter. His modesty is all on the outside, but it is 
 pretty, and pretty things must be on the outside to be 
 useful. I wonder if Judson thought him modest?" 
 
 Jane talked of Brandon to Mary, who was in an excel 
 lent humor, until the girls fell asleep. 
 
 When Jane told me of this I became frightened ; for the 
 surest way to any woman s heart is to convince her that 
 you make her better, and arouse in her breast purer im 
 pulses and higher aspirations. It would be bad enough 
 should Brandon fall in love with the princess, which was 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 39 
 
 almost sure to happen, but for them to fall in love 
 with each other meant Brandon s head upon the block, 
 and Mary s heart bruised, broken and empty for life. 
 Her strong nature, filled to the brim with latent passion, 
 was the stuff of which love makes a conflagration that 
 burns to destruction ; and should she learn to love Bran 
 don, she would move heaven and earth to possess him. 
 
 She whose every desire from childhood up had been 
 gratified, whose every whim seemed to her a paramount 
 necessity, would stop at nothing when the dearest wish a 
 woman s heart can coin was to be gained or lost. Bran 
 don s element of prudence might help him, and might 
 forestall any effort on his part to win her, but Mary had 
 never heard of prudence, and man s caution avails but lit 
 tle when set against woman s daring. In case they both 
 should love, they were sure to try for each other, and in 
 trying were equally sure to find ruin and desolation. 
 
 A few evenings after this I met the princess in the 
 queen s drawing-room. She beckoned me to her, and 
 resting her elbows on the top of a cabinet, her chin in her 
 hands, said : "I met your friend, Captain Brandon, a day 
 or two ago. Did he tell you?" 
 
 "No," I answered ; "J ane told me, but he has not men 
 tioned it." 
 
 It was true Brandon had not said a word of the mat 
 ter, and I had not spoken of it, either. I wanted to see 
 how long he would remain silent concerning an adven 
 ture that would have set most men of the court boasting 
 away at a great rate. To have a tilt with the ever-vic 
 torious Mary, and to come off victor, was enough, I think, 
 to loosen any tongue less given to bragging than Bran 
 don s. 
 
 So," continued Mary, evidently somewhat piqued 2 
 
40 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "he did not think his presentation to me a thing worth 
 mentioning? We had a little passage-at-arms, and, to 
 tell you the truth, I came off second best, and had to 
 acknowledge it, too. Now what do you think of this new- 
 friend of yours ? And he did not boast about having the 
 better of me ? After all there is more virtue in his silence 
 than I at first thought." And she threw back her head, 
 and clapped her hands and laughed with the most conta 
 gious little ripple you ever heard. She seemed not to 
 grieve over her defeat, but dimpled as though it were a 
 huge joke, the thought of which rather pleased her than 
 otherwise. Victory had grown stale for her, although so 
 young. 
 
 "What do I think of my new friend ?" I repeated after 
 her; and that gave me a theme upon which I could en 
 large eloquently. I told her of his learning, notwithstand 
 ing the fact that he had been in the continental wars ever 
 since he was a boy. I repeated to her stories of his dar 
 ing and bravery, that had been told to me by his uncle, 
 the Master of the Horse, and others, and then I added 
 what I knew Lady Jane had already said. I had expected 
 to be brief, but to my surprise found a close and interested 
 listener, even to the twice-told parts, and drew my story 
 out a little, to the liking of us both. 
 
 "Your friend has an earnest advocate in you, Sir Ed 
 win," said the princess. 
 
 "That he has," I replied. "There is nothing too good 
 to say of him." 
 
 I knew that Mary, with her better, clearer brain, held 
 the king almost in the palm of her hand, so I thought to 
 advance Brandon s fortune by a timely word. 
 
 "I trust the king will see fit to favor him, and hope 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 41 
 
 that you will speak a word in his behalf should the op 
 portunity occur." 
 
 "What in the name of heaven have we to give him?" 
 cried Mary, impatiently, for she kept an eye on things 
 political, even if she were only a girl "the king has 
 given away everything that can be given, already, and 
 now that the war is over, and men are coming home, 
 there are hundreds waiting for more. My father s great 
 treasure is squandered, to say nothing of the money col 
 lected from Empson, Dudley and the other commission 
 ers. There is nothing to give unless it be the titles and 
 estate of the late Duke of Suffolk. Perhaps the king will 
 give these to your paragon, if you will paint him in as fair 
 a light as you have drawn him for me." Then throwing 
 back her head w T ith a laugh, "Ask him." 
 
 "It would be none too much for his deserts," I replied, 
 falling in with her humor. 
 
 "We will so arrange it then," went on Mary banter- 
 ingly ; "Captain Brandon no longer, but Charles Bran 
 don, Duke of Suffolk. How sounds it Master Casko- 
 den?" 
 
 "Sweet in my ears," I replied. 
 
 "I really believe you would have the king s crown for 
 him, you absurd man, if you could get it. We must have 
 so interesting a person at court ; I shall at least see that he 
 is presented to the queen at once. I wonder if he dances, 
 I suppose not. He has probably been too busy cutting 
 and thrusting." And she laughed again at her own 
 pleasantry. 
 
 When the mirth began to gather in her face and the 
 dimples came responsive to her smiles ; when she threw 
 back her perfectly poised head, stretching her soft, white 
 throat, so full and round and beautiful, half closing her 
 
42 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 big brown eyes till they shone again from beneath the 
 shade of those long, black sweeping lashes ; when her red 
 lips parted, showing her teeth of pearl, and she gave the 
 little clap of her hands a sort of climax to the soft, low, 
 rippling laugh she made a picture of such exquisite love 
 liness that it is no wonder men were fools about her, and 
 caught love as one catches a contagion. I had it once, as 
 you already know, and had recovered. All that prevented 
 a daily relapse was my fair sweet antidote, Jane, whose 
 image rested in my heart, a lasting safeguard. 
 
 "I wonder if your prodigy plays cards ; that is, such as 
 we ladies play?" asked Mary. "You say he has lived 
 much in France where the game was invented, but I have 
 no doubt he would scorn to waste his time at so frivolous 
 a pursuit, when he might be slaughtering armies single- 
 handed and alone." 
 
 "I do not know as to his dancing and card-playing, but 
 I dare venture a wager he does both," I replied, not liking 
 her tone of sarcasm. She had yet to learn who Brandon 
 w^as. 
 
 "I will hazard ten crowns," said Mary quickly, for she 
 loved a wager and was a born gambler. 
 
 "Taken," said I. 
 
 "We will try him on both to-morrow nigiit in my draw 
 ing-room," she continued. "You bring him up, but tell 
 no one. I will have Jane there with her lute, which will 
 not frighten you away I know, and we will try his step. I 
 will have cards, too, and we shall see what he can do at 
 triumph. Just we four no one else at all. You and 
 Jane, the new Duke of Suffolk and I. Oh ! I can hardly 
 wait," and she fairly danced with joyous anticipation. 
 
 The thing had enough irregularity to give it zest, for 
 while Mary often had a few young people in her drawing- 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 43 
 
 room the companies were never so small as two couples 
 only, and the king and queen, to make up for greater 
 faults, were wonderful sticklers in the matter of little, pro 
 prieties. 
 
 The ten-crown wager, too, gave spice to it, but to do 
 her justice she cared very little for that. The princess 
 loved gambling purely for gambling s sake, and with her, 
 the next best thing to winning_..waa^losing. 
 
 When I went to my room that night, I awakened Bran 
 don and told him of the distinguished honor that awaited 
 him. 
 
 "Well! I ll be" but he did not say what he would 
 "be." He always halted before an oath, unless angry, 
 which was seldom, but then beware! he had learned to 
 swear in Flanders. "How she did fly at me the other 
 morning ; I never was more surprised in all my life. For 
 once I was almost caught with my guard down, and did 
 not know how to parry the thrust. I mumbled over some 
 sort of a lame retaliation and beat a retreat. It was so 
 unjust and uncalled for that it made me angry; but she 
 was so gracious in her amends that I was almost glad it 
 happened. I like a woman who can be as savage as the 
 very devil when it pleases her ; she usually has in store an 
 assortment of possibilities for the other extreme." 
 
 "She told me of your encounter," I returned, "but 
 said she had come off second best, and seemed to think 
 her overthrow a huge joke." 
 
 "The man who learns to know what a woman thinks 
 and feels will have a great deal of valuable information," 
 he replied ; and then turned over for sleep, greatly pleased 
 that one woman thought as she did. 
 
 I was not sure he would be so highly flattered if he 
 
44 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 knew that he had been invited to settle a wager, and to 
 help Mary to a little sport. 
 
 As to the former, I had an interest there myself, al 
 though I dared not settle the question by asking Brandon 
 if he played cards and danced ; and, as to the matter of 
 Mary s sport, I felt there was but little, if any, danger, of 
 her having too much of it at his expense, Brandon being 
 well able to care for himself in that respect. 
 
 The next evening, at the appointed time, we wended our 
 way, by an unfrequented route, and presented ourselves, 
 as secretly as possible, at the drawing-room of the prin 
 cess. 
 
 The door was opened by Lady Jane, and we met the 
 two girls almost at the threshold. I had told Brandon 
 of the bantering conversation about the title and estates 
 of the late Duke of Suffolk, and he had laughed over it 
 in the best of humor. If quick to retaliate for an inten 
 tional offense, he was not thin-skinned at a piece of pleas 
 antry, and had none of that stiff, sensitive dignity, so 
 troublesome to one s self and friends. 
 
 Now, Jane and Mary were always bantering me be 
 cause I was short, and inclined to be in fact round, but 
 I did not care. It made them laugh, and their laughing 
 was so contagious, it made me laugh, too, and we all en 
 joyed it. I would give a pound sterling any time for a 
 good laugh ; and that, I think, is why I have always been 
 round. 
 
 So, upon entering, I said: 
 
 "His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk, ladies." 
 
 They each made a sweeping courtesy, with hand on 
 breast, and gravely saluted him : 
 
 "Your Grace ! Good even ." 
 
 Brandon s bow was as deep and graceful, if that were 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 45 
 
 possible, as theirs, and when he moved on into the room it 
 was with a little halt in his step, and a big blowing out of 
 the cheeks, in ludicrous imitation of his late lamented pre 
 decessor, that sent the girls into peals of soft laughter and 
 put us all at our ease immediately. 
 
 Ah ! what a thing it is to look back upon ; that time of 
 life when one finds his heaven in a ready laugh ! 
 
 "Be seated all/ said the princess. "This is to be 
 without ceremony, and only we four. No one knows a 
 word of it. Did you tell anyone, Sir Edwin?" 
 
 "Perish the thought," I exclaimed. 
 
 She turned her face toward Brandon, " but I know 
 you did not. I ve heard how discreet you were about an 
 other matter. Well, no one knows it then, and we can 
 have a famous evening. You did not expect this, Master 
 Brandon, after my reception of you the other morning? 
 Were you not surprised when Sir Edwin told you?" 
 
 "I think I can safely say that I was prepared not to be 
 surprised at anything your highness might graciously con 
 clude to do after my first experience," he answered smil 
 ing. 
 
 "Indeed?" returned Mary with elevated eyebrows, and 
 a rising inflection on the last syllable of the word. It 
 was now her turn for a little surprise. "Well, we ll try 
 to find some way to surprise you one of these days;" 
 and the time came when she was full of surprises for him. 
 Mary continued : "But let us not talk about the other day. 
 Of what use are other days anyway? Before the even 
 ing is over, Master Brandon, we want you to give us an 
 other sermon," and she laughed, setting off three other 
 laughs as hearty and sincere as if she had uttered the 
 rarest witticism on earth. 
 
4 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 The princess had told Jane and Jane had told me of the 
 "Sermon in the Park," as Mary called it. 
 
 "Jane needs it as much as I," said the princess. 
 
 "I can t believe that," responded Brandon, looking at 
 Jane with a softening glance quite too admiring and com 
 mendatory to suit me; for I was a jealous little devil. 
 
 The eyebrows went up again. 
 
 "Oh! you think she doesn t? Well! in truth, Mas 
 ter Brandon, there is one failing that can not be laid 
 at your door ; you are no flatterer." For answer Brandon 
 laughed and that gave us the cue, and away we went 
 in a rippling chorus, all about nothing. Some persons 
 may call our laughter foolish, but there are others who 
 consider it the height of all wisdom. St. George! I d 
 give my Garter for just one other laugh like that ; for just 
 one other hour of youth s dancing blood and glowing 
 soul-warmth; of sweet, unconscious, happy heart-beat 
 and paradise-creating joy in everything. 
 
 After a few minutes of gay conversation, in which we 
 all joined, Mary asked: "What shall we do? Will one 
 of you suggest something?" 
 
 Jane sat there looking so demure you would have 
 thought mischief could not live within a league of her, 
 but those very demure girls are nearly always dangerous. 
 She said, oh ! so innocently : 
 
 "Would you like to dance? If so, I will play." And 
 she reached for her lute which was by her side. 
 
 "Yes, that will be delightful. Master Brandon, will 
 you dance with me ?" asked the princess, with a saucy lit 
 tle laugh, her invitation meaning so much more to three of 
 us than to Brandon. Jane and I joined in the laugh, and 
 when Mary clapped her hands that set Brandon off too, 
 for he thought it the quaintest, prettiest little gesture in 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 47 
 
 the world, and was all unconscious that our laugh was at 
 his expense. 
 
 Brandon did not answer Mary s invitation the fit of 
 laughter had probably put it out of his mind so she, evi 
 dently anxious to win or lose her wager at once, again 
 asked him if he danced. 
 
 Oh, pardon me. Of course. Thank you/ And he 
 was on his feet beside her chair in an instant ready for 
 the dance. This time the girl s laugh, though equally 
 merry, had another tone, for she knew she had lost. 
 
 Out they stepped upon the polished floor, he holding 
 her hand in his, awaiting the pause in the music to take 
 the step. I shall never forget the sight of those two 
 standing there together Mary, dark-eyed and glowing; 
 Brandon, almost rosy, with eyes that held the color of a 
 deep spring sky, and a wealth of flowing curls crowning 
 his six feet of perfect manhood, strong and vigorous as a 
 young lion. Mary, full of beauty-curves and graces, a 
 veritable Venus in her teens, and Brandon, an Apollo, 
 with a touch of Hercules, were a complement each to the 
 other that would surely make a perfect one. 
 
 When the music started, off they went, heel and toe, 
 bow and courtesy, a step forward and a step back, in per 
 fect time and rhythm a poem of human motion. Could 
 Brandon dance ? The princess had her answer in the first 
 ten steps. Xothing could be more graceful than Bran 
 don s dancing, unless it were Mary s. Her slightest 
 movement was grace itself. When she would throw her 
 self backward in thrusting out her toe, and then swing 
 forward with her head a little to one side, her uplifted 
 arm undulating like the white neck of a swan, for her 
 sleeve, which was slit to the shoulder, fell back and left 
 it bare, she was a sight worth a long journey to see. 
 
48 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 And when she looked up to Brandon with a laugh in her 
 brown eyes, and a curving smile just parting her full, red 
 lips, that a man would give his very luck to but 
 I had better stop. 
 
 "Was there ever a goodlier couple?" I asked Jane, 
 by whose side I sat. 
 
 "Never," she responded as she played, and, strange to 
 say, I was jealous because she agreed with me. I was 
 jealous because I feared it was Brandon s beauty to which 
 she referred. That I thought would naturally appeal to 
 her. Had he been less handsome, I should perhaps have 
 thought nothing of it, but I knew what my feelings were 
 toward Mary, and I judged, or rather misjudged, Jane by 
 myself. I supposed she would think of Brandon as I 
 could not help thinking of Mary. Was anything in heav 
 en or earth ever so beautiful as that royal creature, danc 
 ing there, daintily holding up her skirts with thumb and 
 first finger just far enough to show a distracting little 
 foot and ankle, and make one wish he had been born a 
 sheep rather than a sentient man who had to live without 
 Mary Tudor? Yet, strange as it may seem, I was really 
 and wholly in love with Jane ; in fact, I loved no one but 
 Jane, and my feeling of intense admiration for Mary was 
 but a part of man s composite inconstancy. 
 
 A woman God bless her if she really loves a man, 
 has no thought of any other ; one at a time is all-sufficient ; 
 but a man may love one woman with the warmth of a 
 simoon, and at the same time feel like a good healthy 
 south wind toward a dozen others. That is the difference 
 between a man and a woman the difference between the 
 good and the bad. One average woman has enough good 
 ness in her to supply an army of men. 
 
 Man and Brandon went on dancing long after Jane was 
 
A LESSOX IX DAXCIXG 
 tired of playing. It was plain to see that th 
 
 once: 1 
 
 to know it. In France, they say. it is the only game. I 
 suppose there is where you learned it ? Perhaps you know 
 their new dances too! I have heard they are delightful. 
 :hem." rec iei ?rar.i:r.. 
 
 -."" ." : : -~-~ : - --enV" ":.:-:.: ::.: . me 2.: "::- 
 : - : Master :: :he I ince? Here is vc-r frier : :-.:: 
 
 
 
50 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 struck up "The Sailor Lass." After she had adjusted the 
 playing to Brandon s suggestion, he stepped deliberately 
 in front of Mary, and, taking her right hand in his left, 
 encircled her waist with his right arm. The girl was 
 startled at first and drew away. This nettled Brandon a 
 little, and he showed it plainly. 
 
 "I thought you wished me to teach you the new dance ?" 
 he said. 
 
 "I do, but but I did not know it was danced that way," 
 she replied with a fluttering little laugh, looking up into 
 his face with a half shy, half apologetic manner, and then 
 dropping her lashes before his gaze. 
 
 "Oh, well!" said Brandon, with a Frenchman s shrug 
 of the shoulders, and then moved off as if about to leave 
 the floor. 
 
 "But is that really the way you they dance it? With 
 your their arm around my a lady s waist?" 
 
 "I should not have dared venture upon such a familiar 
 ity otherwise," answered Brandon, with a glimmer of a 
 smile playing around his lips and hiding in his eyes. 
 
 Mary saw this shadowy smile, and said : "Oh ! I fear 
 your modesty will cause you hurt ; I am beginning to be 
 lieve you would dare do anything you wish. I more than 
 half suspect you are a very bold man, notwithstanding 
 your smooth, modest manner." 
 
 "You do me foul wrong, I assure you. I am the soul 
 of modesty, and grieve that you should think me bold," 
 said Brandon, with a broadening smile. 
 
 Mary interrupted him. "Now, I do believe you are 
 laughing at me at my prudery, I suppose you think it." 
 
 Mary would rather have been called a fool than a 
 prude, and I think she was right. Prudery is no more a 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 51 
 
 sign of virtue than a wig is of hair. It is usually put on 
 to hide a bald place. 
 
 The princess stood irresolute for a moment in evident 
 hesitation and annoyance. 
 
 "You are grieving because I think you bold ! And yet 
 you stand there laughing at me to my face. I think so 
 more than ever now. I know it. Oh, you make me an 
 gry ! Don t ! I do not like persons who anger me and 
 then laugh at me." This turned Brandon s smile into a 
 laugh which he could not hold back. 
 
 Mary s eyes shot fire, and she stamped her foot, exclaim 
 ing: "Sir, this goes beyond all bounds; I will not tol 
 erate your boldness another moment." I thought she was 
 going to dismiss him, but she did not. The time had come 
 when he or she must be the master. 
 
 It was a battle royal between the forces on the floor, 
 and I enjoyed it and felt that Brandon would come out all 
 right. 
 
 He said good-humoredly : "What, shall you have all 
 the laugh in your sleeve at my expense? Do you expect 
 to bring me here to win a wager for you, made on the as 
 sumption of my stupidity and lack of social accomplish 
 ments, and then complain when it comes my turn to 
 laugh ? I think I am the one who should be offended, but 
 you see I am not." 
 
 "Caskoden, did you tell him?" demanded Mary, evi 
 dently referring to the wager. 
 
 "He said not a word of it," broke in Brandon, answer 
 ing for me ; "I should have been a dullard, indeed, not to 
 have seen it myself after what you said about the loss of 
 your ten crowns ; so let us cry quits and begin again." 
 
 Mary reluctantly struck her flag. 
 
 "Very well, I am willing," she said laughingly; "but 
 
52 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 as to your boldness, I still insist upon that ; I forgive you, 
 however, this time." Then, half apologetically, "After 
 all, it is not such a grievous charge to make. I believe it 
 never yet injured any man with a woman ; they rather like 
 it, I am afraid, however angry it makes them. Don t 
 they, Jane?" 
 
 Jane, of course, "did not know," so we all laughed, as 
 usual, upon the slightest pretext, and Mary, that fair 
 bundle of contradictions and quick transitions, stepped 
 boldly up to Brandon, with her colors flying in her cheeks, 
 ready for the first lesson in the new dance. 
 
 She was a little frightened at his arm around her waist, 
 for the embrace was new to her the first touch of man 
 and was shy and coy, though willing, being determined to 
 learn the dance. She was an apt pupil and soon glided 
 softly and gracefully around the room with unfeigned de 
 light ; yielding to the new situation more easily as she be 
 came accustomed to it. 
 
 This dance was livelier exercise than La Galliard, and 
 Mary could not talk much for lack of breath. Brandon 
 kept the conversation going though, and she answered 
 with glances, smiles, nods and monosyllables a very good 
 vocabulary in its way, and a very good way, too, for that 
 matter. 
 
 Once he said something to her, in a low voice, which 
 brought a flush to her cheeks and caused her to glance 
 quickly up into his face. By the time her answer came 
 they were nearer us, and I heard her say : "I am afraid 
 I shall have to forgive you again if you are not careful. 
 Let me see an exhibition of that modesty you so much 
 boast." But a smile and a flash of the eyes went with the 
 words, and took all the sting out of them. 
 
 After a time the dancers stopped, and Mary, with 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 53 
 
 flushed face and sparkling eyes, sank into a chair, ex 
 claiming: "The new dance is delightful, Jane. It is 
 like flying; your partner helps you so. But what would 
 the king say ? And the queen ? She would simply swoon 
 with horror. It is delightful though." Then, with more 
 confusion in her manner than I had ever before seen: 
 "That is, it is delightful if one chooses her partner." 
 
 This only made matters worse, and gave Brandon an 
 opportunity. 
 
 "Dare I hope?" he asked, with a deferential bow. 
 
 "Oh, yes ; you may hope. I tell you frankly it was de 
 lightful with you. Now, are you satisfied, my modest 
 one ? Jane, I see we have a forward body here ; no telling 
 what he will be at next," said Mary, with evident impa 
 tience, rapidly swaying her fan. She spoke almost sharp 
 ly, for Brandon s attitude was more that of an equal than 
 she was accustomed to, and her royal dignity, which was 
 the artificial part of her, rebelled against it now and then 
 in spite of her real inclinations. The habit of receiving 
 only adulation, and living on a pinnacle above everybody 
 else, was so strong from continued practice, that it ap 
 pealed to her as a duty to maintain that elevation. She 
 had never before been called upon to exert herself in that 
 direction, and the situation was new. The servile ones 
 with whom she usually associated maintained it for her; 
 so she now felt, whenever she thought of it, that she was 
 in duty bound to clamber back, at least part of the way, 
 to her dignity, however pleasant it was, personally, down 
 below in the denser atmosphere of informality. 
 
 In her heart the princess preferred upon proper occa 
 sions, such as this, to abate her dignity, and often re 
 quested others to dispense with ceremony, as, in fact, she 
 had done with us earlier in the evening. But Brandon s 
 
54 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 easy manner, although perfectly respectful and elegantly 
 polite, was very different from anything she had ever 
 known. She enjoyed it, but every now and then the 
 sense of her importance and dignity for you must re 
 member she was the first princess of the blood royal 
 would supersede even her love of enjoyment, and the girl 
 went down and the princess came up. Besides, she half 
 feared that Brandon was amusing himself at her expense, 
 and that, in fact, this was a new sort of masculine worm. 
 Really, she sometimes doubted if it were a worm at all, 
 and did not know what to expect, nor what she ought to 
 do. 
 
 She was far more girl than princess, and would have 
 preferred to remain merely girl and let events take the 
 i course they were going, for she liked it. But there was 
 ; the other part of her which was princess, and which kept 
 saying: "Remember who you are," so she was plainly 
 at a loss between natural and artificial inclinations con 
 tending unconsciously within her. 
 
 Replying to Mary s remark over Jane s shoulder, Bran 
 don said : 
 
 "Your highness asked us to lay aside ceremony for the 
 evening, and if I have offended I can but make for my ex 
 cuse my desire to please you. Be sure I shall offend no 
 more." This was said so seriously that his meaning 
 could not be misunderstood. He did not care whether he 
 pleased so capricious a person or not. 
 
 Mary made no reply, and it looked as if Brandon had 
 the worst of it. 
 
 We sat a few minutes talking, Mary wearing an air of 
 dignity. Cards were proposed, and as the game pro 
 gressed she gradually unbent again and became as af 
 fable and familiar as earlier in the evening. Brandon, 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 55 
 
 however, was frozen. He was polite, dignified and defer 
 ential to the ladies, but the spirit of the evening was gone, 
 since he had furnished it all with his free, off-hand man 
 ner, full of life and brightness. 
 
 After a short time, Mary s warming mood failing to 
 thaw our frozen fun-maker, and in her heart infinitely pre 
 ferring pleasure to dignity, she said : "Oh, this is weari 
 some. Your game is far less entertaining than your new 
 dance. Do something to make me laugh, Master Bran 
 don." 
 
 "I fear you must call in Will Sommers," he replied, 
 "if you wish to laugh. I can not please you in both 
 ways, so will hold to the one which seems to suit the 
 princess." 
 
 Mary s eyes flashed and she said ironically: 
 
 "That sounds very much as though you cared to please 
 me in any way." Her lips parted and she evidently had 
 something unkind ready to say; but she held the breath 
 she had taken to speak it with, and, after one or two false 
 starts in as many different lines, continued : "But per 
 haps I deserve it. I ask you to forgive me, and hereafter 
 desire you three, upon all proper occasions, when we are 
 by ourselves, to treat me as one of you as a woman a 
 girl, I mean. Where is the virtue of royalty if it only 
 means being put upon a pinnacle above all the real pleas 
 ures of life, like foolish old Stylites on his column ? The 
 queen is always preaching to me about the strict main 
 tenance of my dignity royal/ as she calls it, and perhaps 
 she is right; but out upon dignity royal say I; it is a 
 terrible nuisance. Oh, you don t know how difficult it is 
 to be a princess and not a fool. There !" And she sighed 
 in apparent relief. 
 
 Then turning to Brandon, "You have taught me an- 
 
56 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 other good lesson, sir, and from this hour you are my 
 friend, if you will be, so long as you are worthy no, I 
 do not mean that; I know you will always be worthy 
 but forever. Now we are at rights again. Let us try to 
 remain so that is, I will," and she laughingly gave him 
 her hand, which he, rising to his feet, bowed low over and 
 kissed, rather fervently and lingeringly, I thought. 
 
 Hand-kissing was new to us in England, excepting in 
 case of the king and queen at public homage. It was a 
 little startling to Mary, though she permitted him to hold 
 her hand much longer than there was any sort of need a 
 fact she recognized, as I could easily see from her tell-tale 
 cheeks, which were rosy with the thought of it. 
 
 So it is when a woman goes on the defensive prema 
 turely and without cause ; it makes it harder to apply the 
 check when the real need comes. 
 
 After a little card-playing I expressed regret to Jane 
 that I could not have a dance with her for lack of music. 
 
 "I will play, if the ladies permit," said Brandon ; and he 
 took Lady Jane s lute and played and sang some very 
 pretty little love songs and some comic ones, too, in a 
 style not often heard in England, so far away from the 
 home of the troubadour and lute. He was full of sur 
 prises, this splendid fellow, with his accomplishments and 
 graces. 
 
 When we had danced as long as we wished that is, as 
 Jane wished as for myself, I would have been dancing 
 yet Mary again asked us to be seated. Jane having 
 rested, Brandon offered to teach her the new dance, say 
 ing he could whistle an air well enough to give her the 
 step. I at once grew uneasy with jealous suspense, for I 
 did not wish Brandon to dance in that fashion with Jane, 
 but to my great relief she replied : 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 57 
 
 "No; thank you; not to-night." Then shyly glancing 
 toward me: "Perhaps Sir Edwin will teach me when he 
 learns. It is his business, you know." 
 
 Would I? If a month, night and day, would conquer 
 it, the new dance was as good as done for already. That 
 was the first real mark of favor I ever had from Jane. 
 
 We now had some songs from Mary and Jane ; then 
 I gave one, and Brandon sang again at Mary s re 
 quest. We had duets and quartets and solos, and the 
 songs were all sweet, for they came from the heart of 
 youth, and went to the soul of youth, rich in its God-given 
 fresh delight in everything. Then we talked, and Mary, 
 and Jane, too, with a sly, shy, soft little word now and 
 then, drew Brandon out to tell of his travels and adven 
 tures. He was a pleasing talker, and had a smooth, 
 easy flow of words, speaking always in a low, clear voice 
 and with perfect composure. He had a way of looking 
 first one auditor and then another straight in the eyes with 
 a magnetic effect that gave to everything he said an added 
 interest. Although at that time less than twenty-five 
 years old, he was really a learned man, having studied at 
 Barcelona, Salamanca and Paris. While there had 
 been no system in his education, his mind was a sort of 
 knowledge junk-shop, wherein he could find almost any 
 thing he wanted. He spoke German, French and Span 
 ish, and seemed to know the literature of all these lan 
 guages. 
 
 He told us he had left home at the early age of six 
 teen as his uncle s esquire, and had fought in France, then 
 down in Holland with the Dutch; had been captured by 
 the Spanish and had joined the Spanish army, as it mat 
 tered not where he fought, so that there was a chance for 
 honorable achievement and a fair ransom now and then. 
 
58 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 He told us how he had gone to Barcelona and Salamanca, 
 where he had studied, and thence to Granada, among the 
 Moors ; of his fighting against the pirates of Barbary, his 
 capture by them, his slavery and adventurous escape ; and 
 his regret that now drowsy peace kept him mewed up in a 
 palace. 
 
 "It is true," he said, "there is a prospect of trouble 
 with Scotland, but I would rather fight a pack of howling, 
 starving wolves than the Scotch ; they fight like very dev 
 ils, which, of course, is well but you have nothing after 
 you have beaten them, not even a good whole wolf skin." 
 
 In an unfortunate moment Mary said: "Oh, Master 
 Brandon, tell us of your duel with Judson." 
 
 Thoughtful, considerate Jane frowned at the princess in 
 surprise, and put her finger on her lips. 
 
 "Your ladyship, I fear I can not," he answered, and left 
 his seat, going over to the window, where he stood, with 
 his back towards us, looking out into the darkness. Mary 
 saw what she had done, and her eyes grew moist, for, 
 with all her faults, she had a warm, tender heart and a 
 quick, responsive sympathy. After a few seconds of 
 painful silence, she went softly over to the window where 
 Brandon stood. 
 
 "Sir, forgive me," she said, putting her hand prettily 
 upon his arm. "I should have known. Believe me, I 
 would not have hurt you intentionally." 
 
 "Ah ! my lady, the word was thoughtlessly spoken, and 
 needs no forgiveness ; but your heart shows itself in the 
 asking, and I thank you ; I wanted but a moment to throw 
 off the thought of that terrible day." Then they came 
 back together, and the princess, who had tact enough 
 when she cared to use it, soon put matters right again. 
 
 I started to tell one of my best stories in order to cheer 
 Brandon, but in the midst of it, Mary, who, I had no- 
 
A LESSON IN DANCING 59 
 
 ticed, was restless and uneasy, full of blushes and hesi 
 tancy, and with a manner as new to her as the dawn of 
 the first day was to the awakening world, abruptly asked 
 Brandon to dance with her again. She had risen and 
 was standing by her chair, ready to be led out. 
 
 "Gladly," answered Brandon, as he sprung to her side 
 and took her hand. "Which shall it be, La Galliard or 
 the new dance?" And Mary standing there, the picture 
 of waiting, willing modesty, lifted her free hand to his 
 shoulder, tried to raise her eyes to his but failed, and 
 softly said: "The new dance." 
 
 This time the dancing was more soberly done, and when 
 Mary stopped it was with serious, thoughtful eyes, for 
 she had felt the tingling of a new strange force in Bran 
 don s touch. A man, not a worm, but a real man, with all 
 the irresistible infinite attractions that a man may have for 
 a woman the subtle drawing of the loadstone for the pas 
 sive iron had come into her life. Doubly sweet it was 
 to her intense, young virgin soul, in that it first revealed 
 the dawning of that two-edged bliss which makes a 
 heaven or a hell of earth of earth, which owes its very 
 existence to love. 
 
 I do not mean that Mary was in love, but that she had 
 met, and for the first time felt the touch, yes even the 
 subtle, unconscious, dominating force so sweet to woman, 
 of the man she could love, and had known the rarest throb 
 that pulses in that choicest of all God s perfect handiwork 
 a woman s heart the throb that goes before the John, 
 the Baptist, as it were, of coming love. 
 
 It being after midnight, Mary filled two cups of wine, 
 from each of which she took a sip, and handed them to 
 Brandon and me. She then paid me the ten crowns, 
 very soberly thanked us and said we were at liberty to go. 
 
60 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 The only words Brandon ever spoke concerning that 
 evening were just as we retired: 
 
 "Jesu! she is perfect. But you were wrong, Casko- 
 den. I can still thank God I am not in love with her. I 
 would fall upon my sword if I were." 
 
 I was upon the point of telling him she had never 
 treated any other man as she had treated him, but I 
 thought best to leave it unsaid. Trouble was apt to come 
 of its own accord soon enough. 
 
 In truth, I may as well tell you, that when the princess 
 asked me to bring Brandon to her that she might have a 
 little sport at his expense, she looked for a laugh, but 
 found a sigh. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY 
 
 A day or two after this, Brandon was commanded to 
 an audience, and presented to the king and queen. He 
 was now eligible to all palace entertainments, and vvould 
 probably have many invitations, being a favorite with both 
 their majesties. As to his standing w r ith Mary, who was 
 really the most important figure, socially, about the court, 
 I could not exactly say. She was such a mixture of con 
 tradictory impulses and rapid transitions, and was so full 
 of whims and caprice, the inevitable outgrowth of her 
 blood, her rank and the adulation amid which she had al 
 ways lived, that I could not predict for a day ahead her 
 attitude toward any one. She had never shown so great 
 favor to any man as to Brandon, but just how much of 
 her condescension was a mere whim, growing out of the 
 impulse of the moment, and subject to reaction, I could 
 not tell. I believed, however, that Brandon stood upon 
 a firmer foundation with this changing, shifting, quick 
 sand of a girl than with either of their majesties. 
 
 In fact I thought he rested upon her heart itself. But 
 to guess correctly what a girl of that sort will do, or think, 
 or feel would require inspiration. 
 
 Of course most of the entertainments given by the king 
 and queen included as guests nearly all the court, but 
 Mary often had little fetes and dancing parties which were 
 smaller, more select and informal. These parties were 
 really with the consent and encouragement of the king, to 
 
 (61) 
 
62 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 avoid the responsibility of not inviting everybody. The 
 larger affairs were very dull and smaller ones might give 
 offense to those who were left out. The latter, therefore, 
 were turned over to Mary, who cared very little who was 
 offended or who was not, and invitations to them were 
 highly valued. 
 
 One afternoon, a day or two after Brandon s presenta 
 tion, a message arrived from Mary, notifying me that she 
 would have a little fete that evening in one of the smaller 
 halls and directing me to be there as Master of the Dance. 
 Accompanying the message was a note from no less a per 
 son than the princess herself, inviting Brandon. 
 
 This was an honor indeed an autograph invitation 
 from the hand of Mary ! But the masterful rascal did not 
 seem to consider it anything unusual, and when I handed 
 him the note upon his return from the hunt, he simply 
 read it carelessly over once, tore it in pieces and tossed 
 it away. I believe the Duke of Buckingham \vould have 
 given ten thousand crowns to receive such a note, and 
 would doubtless have shown it to half the court in tri 
 umphant confidence before the middle of the night. To 
 this great captain of the guard it was but a scrap of paper. 
 He was glad to have it nevertheless, and, with all his self- 
 restraint and stoicism, could not conceal his pleasure. 
 
 Brandon at once accepted the invitation in a personal 
 note to the princess. The boldness of this actually took 
 my breath, and it seems at first to have startled Mary a 
 little, also. As you must know by this time, her "dignity 
 royal" was subject to alarms, and quite her most trouble 
 some attribute very apt to receive damage in her rela 
 tions with Brandon. 
 
 Mary did not destroy Brandon s note, despite the fact 
 that her sense of dignity had been disturbed by it, but after 
 
AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY 63 
 
 she had read it slipped off into her private room, read it 
 again and put it on her escritoire. Soon she picked it up, 
 reread it, and, after a little hesitation, put it in her pocket. 
 It remained in the pocket for a moment or two, when out 
 it came for another perusal, and then she unfastened her 
 bodice and put it in her bosom. Mary had been so intent 
 upon what she was doing that she had not seen Jane, who 
 was sitting quietly in the window, and, when she turned 
 and saw her, she was so angry she snatched the note from 
 her bosom and threw it upon the floor, stamping her foot 
 in embarrassment and rage. 
 
 "How dare you w T atch me, hussy ?" she cried. "You 
 lurk around as still as the grave, and I have to look into 
 every nook and corner, wherever I go, or have you spying 
 on me." 
 
 " I did not spy upon you, Lady Mary," said Jane quietly. 
 
 Don t answer me; I know you did. I want you to 
 be less silent after this. Do you hear ? Cough, or sing, 
 or stumble ; do something, anything, that I may hear you. " 
 
 Jane rose, picked up the note and offered it to her mis 
 tress, who snatched it with one hand, while she gave her a 
 sharp slap with the other. Jane ran out, and Mary, full of 
 anger and shame, slammed the door and locked it. The 
 note, being the cause of all the trouble, she impatiently 
 threw to the floor again, and went over to the window 
 bench, where she threw herself down to pout. In the 
 course of five minutes she turned her head for one fleeting 
 instant and looked at the note, and then, after a little hesi 
 tation, stole over to where she had thrown it and picked it 
 up. Going back to the light at the window, she held it in 
 her hand a moment and then read it once, twice, thrice. 
 The third time brought the smile, and the note nestled in 
 the bosom again. 
 
64 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Jane did not come off so well, for her mistress did not 
 speak to her until she called her in that evening to make 
 her toilet. By that time Mary had forgotten about the 
 note in her bosom ; so when Jane began to array her for 
 the dance, it fell to the floor, whereupon both girls broke 
 into a laugh, and Jane kissed Mary s bare shoulder, and 
 Mary kissed the top of Jane s head, and they were friends 
 again. 
 
 So Brandon accepted Mary s invitation and went to 
 Mary s dance, but his going made for him an enemy of 
 the most powerful nobleman in the realm, and this was the 
 way of it : 
 
 These parties of Mary s had been going on once or 
 twice a week during the entire winter and spring, and 
 usually included the same persons. It was a sort of a 
 coterie, whose members were more or less congenial, and 
 most of them very jealous of interlopers. Strange as it 
 may seem, uninvited persons often attempted to force 
 themselves in, and all sorts of schemes and maneuvers 
 were adopted to gain admission. To prevent this, two 
 guardsmen with halberds were stationed at the door. Mod 
 esty, I might say, neither thrives nor is useful at court. 
 
 When Brandon presented himself at the door his en 
 trance was barred, but he quickly pushed aside the hal 
 berds and entered. The Duke of Buckingham, a proud, 
 self-important individual, was standing near the door and 
 saw it all. Now Buckingham was one of those unfor 
 tunate persons who never lose an opportunity to make a 
 mistake, and being anxious to display his zeal on behalf of 
 the princess stepped up to prevent Brandon s entrance. 
 
 "Sir, you will have to move out of this," he said pom 
 pously. "You are not at a jousting bout. You have made 
 a mistake and have come to the wrong place." 
 
"MY LORD HAS DROPPED 
 HIS SU ORD." 
 
AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY 65 
 
 "My Lord of Buckingham is pleased to make rather 
 more of an ass of himself than usual this evening," replied 
 Brandon with a smile, as he started across the room to 
 Mary, whose eye he had caught. She had seen and heard 
 it all, but in place of coming to his relief stood there laugh 
 ing to herself. At this Buckingham grew furious and 
 ran around ahead of Brandon, valiantly drawing his 
 sword. 
 
 "Now, by heaven! fellow, make but another step and 
 I will run you through/ he said. 
 
 I saw it all, but could hardly realize what was going on, 
 it came so quickly and was over so soon. Like a flash 
 Brandon s sword was out of its sheath, and Buckingham s 
 blade was flying toward the ceiling. Brandon s sword 
 was sheathed again so quickly that one could hardly be 
 lieve it had been out at all, and, picking up Buckingham s 
 he said with a half-smothered laugh : 
 
 "My lord has dropped his sword." He then broke its 
 point with his heel against the hard floor, saying: "I 
 will dull the point, lest my lord, being unaccustomed to 
 its use, wound himself. This brought peals of laughter 
 from everybody, including the king. Mary laughed also, 
 but, as Brandon was handing Buckingham his blade, came 
 up and demanded : 
 
 "My lord, is this the way you take it upon yourself to 
 receive my guests? Who appointed you, let me ask, to 
 guard my door? We shall have to omit your name from 
 our next list, unless you take a few lessons in good man 
 ners." This was striking him hard, and the quality of the 
 man will at once appear plain to you when I say that he 
 had often received worse treatment, but clung to the girl s 
 skirts all the more tenaciously. Turning to Brandon the 
 princess said: 
 4 
 
66 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "Master Brandon, I am right glad to see you, and re 
 gret exceedingly that our friend of Buckingham should so 
 thirst for your blood." She then led him to the king and 
 queen, to whom he made his bow, and the pair continued 
 their walk about the room. Mary again alluded to the 
 skirmish at the door, and said laughingly : 
 
 "I would have come to your help, but I knew you were 
 amply able to take care of yourself. I was sure you would 
 worst the duke in some way. It was better than a mum 
 mery, and I was glad to see it. I do not like him." 
 
 The king did not open these private balls, as he was 
 supposed, at least, not to be their patron, and the queen, 
 who was considerably older than Henry, was averse to 
 such things. So the princess opened her own balls, danc 
 ing for a few minutes with the floor entirely to herself and 
 partner. It w r as the honor of the evening to open the ball 
 with her, and quite curious to see how men put themselves 
 in her way and stood so as to be easily observed and per 
 chance chosen. Brandon, after leaving Mary, had drifted 
 into a corner of the room back of a group of people, and 
 was talking to Wolsey who was always very friendly to 
 him and to Master Cavendish, a quaint, quiet, easy little 
 man, full of learning and kindness, and a warm friend of 
 the Princess Mary. 
 
 It was time to open the ball, and, from my place in 
 the musicians gallery, I could see Mary moving about 
 among the guests, evidently looking for a partner, while 
 the men resorted to some very transparent and amusing 
 expedients to attract her attention. The princess, however, 
 took none of the bidders, and soon, I noticed, she espied 
 Brandon standing in the corner with his back toward her. 
 
 Something told me she was going to ask him to open the 
 dance, and I regretted jt, because I knew it would set every 
 
AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY 67 
 
 nobleman in the house against him, they being very jealous 
 of the low-born favorites, as they called the untitled 
 friends of royalty. Sure enough, I was right. Mary at 
 once began to make her way over to the corner, and I 
 heard her say: "Master Brandon, will you dance with 
 me?" 
 
 It was done prettily. The whole girl changed as soon 
 as she found herself in front of him. In place of the old- 
 time confidence, strongly tinged with arrogance, she was 
 almost shy, and blushed and stammered w r ith quick coming 
 breath, like a burgher maid before her newfound gallant. 
 At once the courtiers made way for her, and out she 
 walked, leading Brandon by the hand. Upon her lips and 
 in her eyes was a rare triumphant smile, as if to say : 
 
 "Look at this handsome new trophy of my bo\v and 
 spear." 
 
 I was surprised and alarmed when Mary chose Bran 
 don, but when I turned to the musicians to direct their 
 play, imagine, if you can, my surprise when the leader 
 said: 
 
 "Master, we have our orders for the first dance from 
 the princess." 
 
 Imagine, also, if you can, my double surprise and alarm, 
 nay, almost my terror, when the band struck up Jane s 
 "Sailor Lass." I saw the look of surprise and inquiry 
 which Brandon gave Alary, standing there demurely by 
 his side, when he first heard the music, and I heard her 
 nervous little laugh as she nodded her head, "Yes," and 
 stepped closer to him to take position for the dance. The 
 next moment she was in Brandon s arms, flying like a 
 sylph about the room. A buzz of astonishment and de 
 light greeted them before they were half way around, and 
 then a great clapping of hands, in which the king himself 
 
68 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 joined. It was a lovely sight, although, I think, a graceful 
 woman is more beautiful in La Galliard than any other 
 dance, or, in fact, any other situation in which she can 
 place herself. 
 
 After a little time the Dowager Duchess of Kent, first 
 lady in waiting to the queen, presented herself at the musi 
 cians gallery and said that her majesty had ordered the 
 music stopped, and the musicians, of course, ceased play 
 ing at once. Mary thereupon turned quickly to me : 
 
 "Master, are our musicians weary that they stop before 
 we are through?" 
 
 The queen answered for me in a high-voiced Spanish 
 accent : "I ordered the music stopped ; I will not permit 
 such an indecent exhibition to go on longer." 
 
 Fire sprang to Mary s eyes and she exclaimed: "If 
 your majesty does not like the way we do and dance at 
 my balls you can retire as soon as you see fit. Your face 
 is a kill-mirth anyway." It never took long to rouse her 
 ladyship. 
 
 The queen turned to Henry, who was laughing, and an 
 grily demanded : 
 
 "Will your majesty permit me to be thus insulted in 
 your very presence?" 
 
 "You got yourself into it ; get out of it as best you can. 
 I have often told you to let her alone; she has sharp 
 claws." The king was really tired of Catherine s sour 
 frown before he married her. It was her dower of Span 
 ish gold that brought her a second Tudor husband. 
 
 "Shall I not have what music and dances I want at my 
 own balls ?" asked the princess. 
 
 "That you shall, sister mine ; that you shall," answered 
 the king. "Go on master, and if the girl likes to dance 
 that way, in God s name let her have her wish. It will 
 
AN HONOI AND AN ENEMY 69 
 
 never hurt her ; we will learn it ourself, and will wear the 
 ladies out a-dancing." 
 
 After Mary had finished the opening dance there was a 
 great demand for instruction. The king asked Brandon to 
 teach him the steps, which he soon learned to perform 
 with a grace perhaps equaled by no living creature other 
 than a fat brown bear. The ladies were at first a little 
 shy and inclined to stand at arm s length, but Alary had 
 set the fashion and the others soon followed. I had taken 
 a fiddler to my room and had learned the dance from 
 Brandon; and was able to teach it also, though I lacked 
 practice to make my step perfect. The princess had needed 
 no practice, but had danced beautifully from the first, her 
 strong young limbs and supple body taking as naturally 
 to anything requiring grace of movement as a cygnet to 
 water. 
 
 This, thought I, is my opportunity to teach Jane the new 
 dance. I wanted to go to her first, but was afraid, or for 
 some reason did not, and took several other ladies as they 
 came. After I had shown the step to them I sought out 
 my sweetheart. Jane was not a prude, but I honestly be 
 lieve she was the most provoking girl that ever lived. I 
 never had succeeded in holding her hand even the smallest 
 part of an instant, and yet I was sure she liked me very 
 much ; almost sure she loved me. She feared I might un 
 hinge it and carry it away, or something of that sort, I 
 suppose. When I went up and asked her to let me teach 
 her the new dance, she said : 
 
 "I thank you, Edwin ; but there are others who are 
 more anxious to learn than I, and you had better teach 
 them first." 
 
 "But I want to teach you. When I wish to teach them 
 I will go to them." 
 
70 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "You did go to several others before you thought of 
 coming to me," answered Jane, pretending to be piqued. 
 Now that was the unkindest thing I ever knew a girl to do 
 refuse me what she knew I so wanted, and then put the 
 refusal on the pretended ground that I did not care much 
 about it. I so told her, and she saw she had carried things 
 too far, and that I was growing angry in earnest. She 
 then made another false, though somewhat flattering, ex 
 cuse: 
 
 "I could not bear to go through that dance before so 
 large a company. I should not object so much if no one 
 else could see that is, with you Edwin." "Edwin!" 
 Oh! so soft and sweet! The little jade! to think that 
 she could hoodwink me so easily, and talk me into a good 
 humor with her soft, purring "Edwin." I saw through 
 it all quickly enough, and left her without another word. 
 In a few minutes she went into an adjoining room where I 
 knew she was alone. The door was open and the music 
 could be heard there, so I followed. 
 
 "My lady, there is no one to see us here ; I can teach 
 you now, if you wish," said I. 
 
 She saw she was cornered, and replied, with a toss of 
 her saucy little head: "But what if I do not wish?" 
 
 Now this was more than I could endure with patience, 
 so I answered : "My young lady, you shall ask me before 
 I teach you." 
 
 "There are others who can dance it much better than 
 you," she returned, without looking at me. 
 
 "If you allow another to teach you that dance," I re 
 sponded, "you will have seen the last of me." She had 
 made me angry, and I did not speak to her for more than 
 a week. When I did but I will tell you of that later on. 
 There was one thing about Jane and the new step: so 
 
AN HONOR AND AN ENEMY 71 
 
 long as she did not know it, she would not dance it with 
 any other man, and foolish as my feeling may have been, 
 I could not bear the thought of her doing it. I resolved 
 that if she permitted another man to teach her that dance 
 it would be all over between us. It was a terrible thought 
 to me, that of losing Jane, and it came like a very stroke 
 upon my heart. I would think of her sweet little form, so 
 compact and graceful ; of her gray, calm eyes, so full 
 of purity and mischief ; of her fair oval face, almost pale, 
 and wonder if I could live without the hope of her. I 
 determined, however, that if she learned the new dance 
 with any other man I would throw that hope to the winds, 
 whether I lived or died. St. George ! I believe I should 
 have died. 
 
 The evening was devoted to learning the new dance, 
 and I saw Mary busily engaged imparting information 
 among the ladies. As we were about to disperse I heard 
 her say to Brandon : 
 
 "You have greatly pleased the king by bringing him a 
 new amusement. He asked me where I learned it, and I 
 told him you had taught it to Caskoden, and that I had it 
 from him. I told Caskoden so that he can tell the same 
 story." 
 
 "Oh! but that is not true. Don t you think you 
 should have told him the truth, or have evaded it in some 
 way ?" asked Brandon, who was really a great lover of the 
 truth, "when possible," but who, I fear on this occasion, 
 wished to appear more truthful than he really was. If a 
 man is to a woman s taste, and she is inclined to him, he 
 lays up great stores in her heart by making her think him 
 good ; and shameful impositions are often practiced to this 
 end. 
 
 Mary flushed a little and answered, "I can t help it. 
 
72 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 You do not know. Had I told Henry that we four had 
 enjoyed such a famous time in my rooms he would have 
 been very angry, and and you might have been the suf 
 ferer." 
 
 "But might you not have compromised matters by 
 going around the truth some way, and leaving the im 
 pression that others were of the party that evening?" 
 
 That was a mistake, for it gave Mary an opportunity to 
 retaliate : "The best way to go around the truth, as you 
 call it, is by a direct lie. My lie was no worse than yours. 
 But I did not stop to argue about such matters. There is 
 something else I wished to say. I want to tell you that you 
 have greatly pleased the king with the new dance. Now 
 teach him honor and ruff and your fortune is made. He 
 has had some Jews and Lombards in of late to teach him 
 new games at cards, but yours is worth all of them." 
 Then, somewhat hastily and irrelevantly, "I did not dance 
 the new dance with any other gentleman but I suppose 
 you did not notice it," and she was gone before he could 
 thank her. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A RARE RIDE TO WINDSOR 
 
 The princess knew her royal brother. A man would 
 receive quicker reward for inventing an amusement or a 
 gaudy costume for the king than by winning him a battle. 
 Later in life the high road to his favor was in ridding him 
 of his wife and helping him to a new one a dangerous 
 way though, as Wolsey found to his sorrow when he sunk 
 his glory in poor Anne Boleyn. 
 
 Brandon took the hint and managed to let it be know r n 
 to this play-loving king that he knew the latest French 
 games. The French Due de Longueville had for some 
 time been an honored prisoner to the English court, held 
 as a hostage from Louis XII, but de Longueville was a 
 blockhead, who could not keep his little black eyes off 
 our fair ladies, who hated him, long enough to tell the 
 deuce of spades from the ace of hearts. So Brandon was 
 taken from his duties, such as they were, and placed at 
 the card table. This was fortunate at first ; for being the 
 best player the king always chose him as his partner, and, 
 as in every other game, the king always won. If he lost 
 there would soon be no game, and the man who won from 
 him too frequently was in danger at any moment of being 
 rated guilty of the very highest sort of treason. I think 
 many a man s fall, under Henry VIII, was owing to the 
 fact that he did not always allow the king to win in some 
 trivial matter of game or joust. Under these conditions 
 everybody was anxious to be the king s partner. It is true 
 
 (73) 
 
74 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 he frequently forgot to divide his winnings, but his part 
 ner had this advantage, at least : there was no danger of 
 losing. That being the case, Brandon s seat opposite the 
 king was very likely to excite envy, and the time soon 
 came, Henry having learned the play, when Brandon had 
 to face someone else, and the seat was too costly for a 
 man without a treasury. It took but a few days to put 
 Brandon hors de combat, financially, and he would have 
 been in a bad plight had not Wolsey come to his relief. 
 After that, he played and paid the king in his own coin. 
 
 This great game of "honor and ruff" occupied Henry s 
 mind day and night during a fortnight. He feasted upon 
 it to satiety, as he did with everything else ; never having 
 learned not to cloy his appetite by over-feeding. So we 
 saw little of Brandon while the king s fever lasted, and 
 Mary said she wished she had remained silent about the 
 cards. You see, she could enjoy this new plaything as 
 well as her brother ; but the king, of course, must be sat 
 isfied first. They both had enough eventually ; Henry in 
 one way, Mary in another. 
 
 One day the fancy struck the king that he would rebuild 
 a certain chapel at Windsor ; so he took a number of the 
 court, including Mary, Jane, Brandon and myself, and 
 went with us up to London, where we lodged over night 
 at Bridewell House. The next morning as bright and 
 beautiful a June day as ever gladdened the heart of a rose 
 we took horse for Windsor; a delightful seven-league 
 ride over a fair road. 
 
 Mary and Jane traveled side by side, with an occasional 
 companion or two, as the road permitted. I was angry 
 with Jane, as you know, so did not go near the girls ; and 
 Brandon, without any apparent intention one way or the 
 
....,, 
 
 o 
 
 c 
 
 . >-: 
 
 fi. w 
 
 H 
 
 CJ w 
 r-J > 
 
A RARE RIDE TO WINDSOR 75 
 
 other, allowed events to adjust themselves, and rode with 
 Cavendish and me. 
 
 We were perhaps forty yards behind the girls, and I 
 noticed after a time that the Lady Mary kept looking back 
 ward in our direction, as if fearing rain from the east. I 
 was in hopes that Jane, too, would fear the rain, but you 
 would have sworn her neck was stiff, so straight ahead did 
 she keep her face. We had ridden perhaps three leagues, 
 when the princess stopped her horse and turned in her sad 
 dle. I heard her voice, but did not understand what she 
 said. 
 
 In a moment some one called out : "Master Brandon is 
 wanted. So that gentleman rode forward, and I followed 
 him. When we came up with the girls, Mary said : "I 
 fear my girth is loose." 
 
 Brandon at once dismounted to tighten it, and the others 
 of our immediate party began to cluster around. 
 
 Brandon tried the girth. 
 
 "My lady, it is as tight as the horse can well bear," he 
 said. 
 
 "It is loose, I say," insisted the princess, with a little 
 irritation ; "the saddle feels like it. Try the other." Then 
 turning impatiently to the persons gathered around: 
 "Does it require all of you, standing there like gaping 
 bumpkins, to tighten my girth ? Ride on ; we can manage 
 this without so much help." Upon this broad hint every 
 body rode ahead while I held the horse for Brandon, who 
 went on with his search for the loose girth. While he was 
 looking for it Alary leaned over her horse s neck and 
 asked : "Were you and Cavendish settling all the philo 
 sophical points now in dispute, that you found him so 
 interesting?" 
 
 "Not all," answered Brandon, smiling. 
 
76 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "You were so absorbed, I supposed it could be nothing 
 short of that." 
 
 "No," replied Brandon again. "But the girth is not 
 loose." 
 
 "Perhaps I only imagined it," returned Mary carelessly, 
 having lost interest in the girth. 
 
 I looked toward Jane, whose eyes were bright with a 
 smile, and turned Brandon s horse over to him. Jane s 
 smile gradually broadened into a laugh, and she said: 
 "Edwin, I fear my girth is loose also." 
 
 "As the Lady Mary s was?" asked I, unable to keep a 
 straight face any longer. 
 
 "Yes," answered Jane, with a vigorous little nod of her 
 head, and a peal of laughter. 
 
 "Then drop back with me," I responded. 
 
 The princess looked at us with a half smile, half frown, 
 and remarked : "Now you doubtless consider yourselves 
 very brilliant and witty." 
 
 "Yes," returned Jane maliciously, nodding her head in 
 emphatic assent, as the princess and Brandon rode on be 
 fore us. 
 
 "I hope she is satisfied now," said Jane sotto voce to me. 
 
 "So you want me to ride with you ?" I replied. 
 
 "Yes," nodded Jane. 
 
 "Why?" Tasked. 
 
 "Because I want you to," was the enlightening response. 
 
 "Then why did you not dance with me the other even- 
 ing?" 
 
 "Because I did not want to." 
 
 "Short but comprehensive," thought I, "but a sufficient 
 reason for a maiden." 
 
 I said nothing, however, and after a time Jane spoke : 
 "The dance was one thing and riding with you is another. 
 
A RARE RIDE TO WINDSOR J7 
 
 I did not wish to dance with you, but I do wish to ride 
 with you. You are the only gentleman to whom I would 
 have said what I did about my girth being loose. As to 
 the new r dance, I do not care to learn it because I would 
 not dance it with any man but you, and not even with 
 you yet." This made me glad, and coming from coy, 
 modest Jane meant a great deal. It meant that she cared 
 for me, and would, some day, be mine ; but it also meant 
 that she would take her own time and her own sweet way 
 in being won. This was comforting, if not satisfying, and 
 loosened my tongue: "J ane > }" ou know my heart is full 
 of love for you " 
 
 "Will the universe crumble?" she cried with the most 
 provoking little laugh. Now that sentence was my rock 
 ahead, whenever I tried to give Jane some idea of the state 
 of my affections. It was a part of the speech which I 
 had prepared and delivered to Mary in Jane s hearing, as 
 you already know. I had said to the princess: "The 
 universe will crumble and the heavens roll up as a scroll 
 ere my love shall alter or pale." It was a high-sounding 
 sentence, but it was not true, as I was forced to admit, al 
 most with the same breath that spoke it. Jane had heard 
 it, and had stored it away in that memory of hers, so 
 tenacious in holding to everything it should forget. It is 
 wonderful what a fund of useless information some per 
 sons accumulate and cling to with a persistent determina 
 tion worthy of a better cause. I thought Jane never would 
 forget that unfortunate, abominable sentence spoken so 
 grandiloquently to Mary. I wonder what she would have 
 thought had she known that I had said substantially the 
 same thing to a dozen others. I never should have won 
 her in that case.. She does not know it yet, and never 
 shall if I can prevent. Although dear Jane is old now, 
 
78 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and the roses on her cheeks have long since paled, her 
 gray eyes are still there, with their mischievous little twin 
 kle upon occasion, and in fact, Jane can be as provoking 
 as ever when she takes the fancy, for she is as sure of my 
 affection now as upon the morning of that rare ride to 
 Windsor. Aye, surer, since she knows that in all these 
 years it has changed only to grow greater and stronger and 
 truer in the fructifying light of her sweet face, and the 
 nurturing warmth of her pure soul. What a blessed thing 
 it is for a man to love his wife and be satisfied with her, 
 and to think her the fairest being in all the world ; and 
 how thrice happy is he who can stretch out the sweetest 
 season of his existence, the days of triumphant courtship, 
 through the flying years of all his life, and then lie down 
 to die in the quieted ecstacy of a first love. 
 
 So Jane halted my effort to pour out my heart, as she 
 always did. 
 
 "There is something that greatly troubles me," she said. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked in some concern. 
 
 "My mistress," she answered, nodding in the direction 
 of the two riding ahead of us. "I never saw her so much 
 interested in any one as she is in your friend, Master 
 Brandon. Not that she is really in love with him as yet 
 perhaps, but I fear it is coming and dread to see it. She 
 has never been compelled to forego anything she wanted, 
 and her desires are absolutely imperative. They drive 
 her, and she is helpless against them. "She" would not and 
 could not make the smallest effort to overcome them. I 
 think it never occurred to her that such a thing could be 
 necessary; everything she wants she naturally thinks is 
 hers by divine right. There has been no great need of 
 such an effort until now, but your friend Brandon pre 
 sents it. I wish he were at the other side of the world. I 
 
A RARE RIDE TO WINDSOR 79 
 
 think she feels that she ought to keep away from him be 
 fore it is too late, both for his sake and her own, but she 
 is powerless to deny herself the pleasure of being with 
 him, and I do not know what is to come of it all. That 
 incident of the loose girth is an illustration. Did you 
 ever know anything so bold and transparent? Any one 
 could see through it, and the worst of all is she seems not 
 to care if every one does see. Now look at them ahead of 
 us ! Xo girl is so happy riding beside a man unless she 
 is interested in him. She was dull enough until he joined 
 her. He seemed in no hurry to come, so she resorted 
 to the flimsy excuse of the loose girth to bring him. I am 
 surprised that she even sought the shadow of an excuse, 
 but did not order him forward without any pretense of 
 one. Oh ! I don t know what to do. It troubles me 
 greatly. Do you know the state of his feelings ?" 
 
 "Xo/* I answered, " but I think he is heart-whole, or 
 nearly so. He told me he was not fool enough to fall in 
 love \\ith the king s sister, and I really believe he will 
 keep his heart and head, even at that dizzy height. He is 
 a cool fellow, if there ever was one/ 
 
 He certainly is different from other men." returned 
 Jane. "I think he has never spoken a word of love to 
 her. He has said some pretty things, which she has re 
 peated to me: has moralized to some extent, and has 
 actually told her of some of her faults. I should like to 
 see anyone else take that liberty. She seems to like it from 
 him, and says he inspires her with higher, better motives 
 and a yearning to be good ; but I am sure he has made no 
 love to her/ 
 
 "Perhaps it would be better if he did. It might cure 
 her," I replied. 
 
 "Oh ! no ! no ! not now ; at first, perhaps, but not now. 
 
80 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 What I fear is that if he remains silent much longer she 
 will take matters in hand and speak herself. I don t like to 
 say that it doesn t sound well but she is a princess, and 
 it would be different than with an ordinary girl ; she might 
 have to speak first, or there might be no speaking from 
 one who thought his position too far beneath hers. She 
 whose smallest desires drive her so, will never forego so 
 great a thing as the man she loves only for the want of a 
 word or two." 
 
 Then it was that Jane told me of the scene with the note, 
 of the little whispered confidence upon their pillows, and a 
 hundred other straws that showed only too plainly which 
 way this worst of ill w T inds was blowing with no good in 
 it for any one. Now who could have foretold this ? It was 
 easy enough to prophesy that Brandon would learn to love 
 Mary, excite a passing interest, and come off crestfallen, 
 as all other men had done. But that Mary should love 
 Brandon, and he remain heart-whole, was an unlooked-for 
 event one that would hardly have been predicted by the 
 shrewdest prophet. 
 
 What Lady Jane said troubled me greatly, as it was but 
 the confirmation of my own fears. Her opportunity to 
 know was far better than mine, but I had seen enough to 
 set me thinking. 
 
 Brandon, I believe, saw nothing of Mary s growing par 
 tiality at all. He could not help but find her wonderfully 
 attractive and interesting, and perhaps it needed only the 
 thought that she might love him, to kindle a flame in his 
 own breast. But at the time of our ride to Windsor, 
 Charles Brandon was not in love with Mary Tudor, how 
 ever near it he may unconsciously have been. He would 
 whistle and sing, and was as light-hearted as a lark I 
 mean when away from the princess as well as with her - 
 
A RARE RIDE TO WINDSOR 81 
 
 a mood that does not go with a heart full of heavy love, of 
 impossible, fatal love, such as his would have been for the 
 first princess of the first blood royal of the world. 
 
 But another s trouble could not dim the sunlight in my 
 own heart, and that ride to Windsor was the happiest day 
 of my life up to that time. Even Jane threw off the little 
 cloud our forebodings had gathered, and chatted and 
 laughed like the creature of joy and gladness she was. 
 Now and then her heart would well up so full of the sun 
 light and the flowers, and the birds in the hedge, aye, and 
 of the contagious love in my heart, too, that it poured 
 itself forth in a spontaneous little song which thrills me 
 even now. 
 
 Ahead of us were the princess and Brandon. Every 
 itow and then her voice came back to us in a stave of a 
 song, and her laughter, rich and low, wafted on the wings 
 of the soft south wind, made the glad birds hush to catch 
 its silvery note. It seemed that the wild flowers had taken 
 on their brightest hue, the trees their richest Sabbath-day 
 green, and the sun his softest radiance, only to gladden the 
 heart of Mary that they might hear her laugh. The laugh 
 would have come quite as joyously had the flowers been 
 dead and the sun black, for flowers and sunlight, south 
 wind, green pastures and verdant hills, all were riding by 
 her side. Poor Mary ! Her days of laughter were num 
 bered. 
 
 We all rode merrily on to Windsor, and when we ar 
 rived it w r as curious to see the great nobles, Buckingham, 
 both the Howards, Seymour and a dozen others stand back 
 for plain Charles Brandon to dismount the fairest maiden 
 and the most renowned princess in Christendom. It was 
 done most gracefully. She was but a trifle to his strong 
 arms, and he lifted her to the sod as gently as if she were 
 I 
 
82 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 a child. The nobles envied Brandon his evident favor 
 with this unattainable Mary and hated him accordingly, 
 but they kept their thoughts to themselves for two rea 
 sons : First, they knew not to what degree the king s 
 favor, already marked, with the help of the princess might 
 \ carry him ; and second, they did not care to have a mis- 
 i understanding with the man who had cut out Adam Jud- 
 son s eyes. 
 
 We remained at Windsor four or five days, during 
 which time the king made several knights. Brandon 
 would probably have been one of them, as everybody ex 
 pected, had not Buckingham related to Henry the episode 
 of the loose girth, and adroitly poisoned his mind as to 
 Mary s partiality. At this the king began to cast a jealous 
 eye on Brandon. His sister was his chief diplomatic re 
 source, and when she loved or married, it should be for 
 Henry s benefit, regardless of all else. 
 
 Brandon and the Lady Mary saw a great deal of each 
 other during this little stay at Windsor, as she always had 
 some plan to bring about a meeting, and although very 
 delightful to him, it cost him much in royal favor. He 
 could not trace this effect to its proper cause and it trou 
 bled him. I could have told him the reason in two words, 
 but I feared to put into his mind the thought that the 
 princess might learn to love him. As to the king, he would 
 not have cared if Brandon or every other man, for that 
 matter, should go stark mad for love of his sister, but 
 when she began to show a preference he grew interested, 
 and it was apt sooner or later to go hard with the fortu 
 nate one. When we went back to Greenwich Brandon was 
 sent on a day ahead. 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 
 
 After we had all returned to Greenwich the princess 
 and Brandon were together frequently. Upon several oc 
 casions he was invited, with others, to her parlor for card 
 playing. But we spent two evenings, with only four of 
 us present, prior to the disastrous events which changed 
 everything, and of which I am soon to tell you. During 
 these two evenings the "Sailor Lass" was in constant 
 demand. 
 
 This pair, who should have remained apart, met con 
 stantly in and about the palace, and every glance added 
 fuel to the flame. Part of the time it was the princess 
 with her troublesome dignity, and part of the time it was 
 Mary simply girl. Notwithstanding these haughty 
 moods, anyone with half an eye could see that the princess 
 was gradually succumbing to the budding woman ; that 
 Brandon s stronger nature had dominated her with that 
 half fear which every woman feels who loves a strong 
 man stronger than herself. 
 
 One day the rumor spread through the court that the 
 old French king, Louis XII, whose wife, Anne of Brit 
 tany, had just died, had asked Mary s hand in marriage. 
 It was this, probably, which opened Brandon s eyes to 
 the fact that he had been playing with the very worst sort 
 of fire ; and first made him see that in spite of himself, and 
 almost without his knowledge, the girl had grown won 
 derfully sweet and dear to him. He now saw his danger. 
 
 (83) 
 
84 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and struggled to keep himself beyond the spell of her 
 perilous glances and siren song. This modern Ulysses 
 made a masterful effort, but alas! had no ships to carry 
 him away, and no wax with which to fill his ears. Wax is 
 a good thing, and no one should enter the Siren country 
 without it. Ships, too, are good, with masts to tie one s 
 self to, and sails and rudder, and a gust of wind to waft 
 one quickly past the island. In fact, one can not take too 
 many precautions when in those enchanted waters. 
 
 Matters began to look dark to me. Love had dawned 
 in Mary s breast, that was sure, and for the first time, with 
 all its fierce sweetness. Not that it had reached its noon, 
 or anything like it. In truth, it might, I hoped, die in 
 the dawning, for my lady was as capricious as a May day ; 
 but it was love love as plain as the sun at rising. She 
 sought Brandon upon all occasions, and made opportuni 
 ties to meet him ; not openly at any rate, not with Bran 
 don s knowledge, nor with any connivance on his part, but 
 apparently caring little what he or any one else might see. 
 Love lying in her heart had made her a little more shy 
 than formerly in seeking him, but her straightforward way 
 of taking whatever she wanted made her transparent lit 
 tle attempts at concealment very pathetic. 
 
 As for Brandon, the shaft had entered his heart, too, 
 poor fellow, as surely as love had dawned in Mary s, but 
 there was this difference: With our princess at least I 
 so thought at the time the sun of love might dawn and 
 lift itself to mid-heaven and glow with the fervent ardor of 
 high noon for her blood was warm with the spark of her 
 grandfather s fire and then sink into the west and make 
 room for another sun to-morrow. But with Brandon s 
 stronger nature the sun would go till noon and there 
 would burn for life. The sun, however, had not reached 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 85 
 
 its noon with Brandon, either; since he had set his brain 
 against his heart, and had done what he could to stay the 
 all-consuming orb at its dawning. He knew the hopeless 
 misery such a passion would bring him, and helped the 
 good Lord, in so far as he could, to answer his prayer, 
 and lead him not into temptation. As soon as he saw 
 the truth, he avoided Mary as much as possible. 
 
 As I said, we had spent several evenings with Mary 
 after we came home from Windsor, at all of which her 
 preference was shown in every movement. Some women 
 are so expressive under strong emotion that every gesture, 
 a turn of the head, a glance of the eyes, the lifting of a 
 hand or poise of the body, speaks with a tongue of elo 
 quence, and such was Mary. Her eyes would glow with 
 a soft fire when they rested upon him, and her whole per 
 son told all too plainly what, in truth, it seemed she did 
 not care to hide. When others were present she would 
 restrain herself somewhat, but with only Jane and myself, 
 she could hardly maintain a seemly reserve. During all 
 this time Brandon remained cool and really seemed un 
 conscious of his wonderful attraction for her. It is hard 
 to understand why he did not see it, but I really believe he 
 did not. Although he was quite at ease in her presence, 
 too much so, Mary sometimes thought, and strangely 
 enough sometimes told him in a fit of short-lived, quickly 
 repented anger that always set him laughing, yet there was 
 never a word or gesture that could hint of undue famil 
 iarity. It would probably have met a rebuff from the 
 princess part of her ; for with a perversity, both royal and 
 feminine, she wanted all the freedom for herself. In 
 short, like any other woman, she would rather love than 
 be loved, that is, until surrender day should come; then 
 of course. . 
 
86 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 After these last two meetings, although the invitations 
 came frequently, none was accepted. Brandon had con 
 trived to have his duties, ostensibly at least, occupy his 
 evenings, and did honestly what his judgment told him 
 was the one thing to do ; that is, remained away from a 
 fire that could give no genial warmth, but was sure to burn 
 him to the quick. I saw this only too plainly, but never a 
 word of it was spoken between us. 
 
 The more I saw of this man, the more I respected him, 
 and this curbing of his affections added to my already high 
 esteem. The effort was doubly wise in Brandon s case. 
 Should love with his intense nature reach its height, his 
 recklessness would in turn assert itself, and these two 
 would inevitably try to span the impassable gulf between 
 them, when Brandon, at least, would go down in the at 
 tempt. His trouble, however, did not make a mope of him, 
 and he retained a great deal of his brightness and sparkle 
 undimmed by what must have been an ache in his heart. 
 Though he tried, without making it too marked, to see as 
 little of Mary as possible, their meeting once in a while 
 could not be avoided, especially when one of them was 
 always seeking to bring it about. After a time, Mary 
 began to suspect his attempts to avoid her, and she grew 
 cold and distant through pique. Her manner, however, 
 had no effect upon Brandon, who did not, or at least ap 
 peared not, to notice it. This the girl could not endure, 
 and lacking strength to resist her heart, soon returned to 
 the attack. 
 
 Mary had not seen Brandon for nearly two weeks, and 
 was growing anxious, when one day she and Jane met him 
 in a forest walk near the river. Brandon was sauntering 
 along reading when they overtook him. Jane told me 
 afterwards that Mary s conduct upon coming up to him 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 87 
 
 was pretty and curious beyond the naming. At first she 
 was inclined to be distant, and say cutting things, but 
 when Brandon began to grow restive under them and 
 showed signs of turning back, she changed front in the 
 twinkling of an eye and was all sweetness. She laughed 
 and smiled and dimpled, as only she could, and was full of 
 bright glances and gracious words. 
 
 She tried a hundred little schemes to get him to herself 
 for a moment the hunting of a wild flower or a four- 
 leaved clover, or the exploration of some little nook in the 
 forest toward which she would lead him but Jane did not 
 at first take the hint and kept close at her heels. Mary s 
 impulsive nature was not much given to hinting she 
 usually nodded and most emphatically at that so after a 
 few failures to rid herself of her waiting lady she said im 
 patiently: "Jane, in the name of heaven don t keep so 
 close to us. You won t move out of reach of my hand, and 
 you know how often it inclines to box your ears." 
 
 Jane did know, I am sorry for Mary s sake to say, how 
 often the fair hand was given to such spasms ; so with this 
 emphasized hint she walked on ahead, half sulky at the 
 indignity put upon her, and half amused at her whimsical 
 mistress. 
 
 Mary lost no time, but began the attack at once. 
 
 "Now, sir, I want you to tell me the truth ; why do you 
 refuse my invitations and so persistently keep away from 
 me? I thought at first I would simply let you go your 
 way, and then I thought I I would not. Don t deny it. 
 I know you won t. With all your faults, you don t tell 
 even little lies ; not even to a woman I believe. Xow 
 there is a fine compliment is it not ? when I intended to 
 scold you !" She gave a fluttering little laugh, and, with 
 hanging head, continued: "Tell me, is not the king s 
 
88 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 sister of quality sufficient to suit you ? Perhaps you must 
 have the queen or the Blessed Virgin? Tell me now?" 
 And she looked up at him, half in banter, half in doubt. 
 
 "My duties ," began Brandon. 
 
 "Oh ! bother your duties. Tell me the truth." 
 
 "I will, if you let me/ returned Brandon, who had no 
 intention whatever of doing anything of the sort. "My 
 duties now occupy my time in the evening " 
 
 "That will not do," interrupted Mary, who knew enough 
 of a guardsman s duty to be sure it was not onerous. "You 
 might as well come to it and tell the truth ; that you do not 
 like our society." And she gave him a vicious little glance 
 without a shadow of a smile. 
 
 "In God s name, Lady Mary, that is not it," answered 
 Brandon, who was on the rack. "Please do not think it. 
 I can not bear to have you say such a thing when it is so 
 far from the real truth." 
 
 "Then tell me the real truth." 
 
 "I can not ; I can not. I beg of you not to ask. Leave 
 me ! or let me leave you. I refuse to answer further." The 
 latter half of this sentence was uttered doggedly and 
 sounded sullen and ill-humored, although, of course, it 
 was not so intended. He had been perilously near speak 
 ing words which would probably have lighted, to their 
 destruction to his, certainly the smoldering flames 
 within their breast that it frightened him, and the manner 
 in which he spoke was but a tone giving utterance to the 
 pain in his heart. 
 
 Mary took it as it sounded, and, in unfeigned surprise, 
 exclaimed angrily: "Leave you? Do I hear aright? I 
 never thought that I, the daughter and sister of a king, 
 would live to be dismissed by a by a any one." 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 89 
 
 "Your highness " began Brandon; but she was gone 
 before he could speak. 
 
 He did not follow her to explain, knowing how danger 
 ous such an explanation would be, but felt that it was best 
 for them both that she should remain offended, painful as 
 the thought was to him. 
 
 Of course, Mary s womanly self-esteem, to say nothing 
 of her royal pride, was wounded to the quick, and no 
 wonder. 
 
 Poor Brandon sat down upon a stone, and, as he long 
 ingly watched her retiring form, wished in his heart he 
 were dead. This was the first time he really knew how 
 much he loved the girl, and he saw that, with him at least, 
 it was a matter of bad to worse ; and at that rate would 
 soon be worst. 
 
 Now that he had unintentionally offended her, and had 
 permitted her to go without an explanation, she waj dearer 
 to him than ever, and, as he sat there with his face in his 
 hands, he knew that if matters went on as they were going, 
 the time would soon come when he would throw caution 
 to the dogs and would try the impossible to win her for 
 his own. Caution and judgment still sat enthroned, and 
 they told him now what he knew full well they would not 
 tell him after a short time that failure was certain to fol 
 low the attempt, and disaster sure to follow failure. First, 
 the king would, in all probability, cut off his head upon an 
 intimation of Mary s possible fondness for him ; and, sec 
 ond, if he should be so fortunate as to keep his head, Mary 
 could not, and certainly would not, marry him, even if she 
 loved him with all her heart. The distance between them 
 was too great, and she knew too well what she owed to her 
 position. There was but one thing left New Spain ; and 
 he determined while sitting there to sail with the next ship. 
 
90 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 The real cause of Brandon s manner had never occurred 
 to Mary. Although she knew her beauty and power, as 
 she could not help but know it not as a matter of vanity, 
 but as a matter of fact yet love had blinded her where 
 Brandon was concerned, and that knowledge failed to give 
 her light as to his motives, however brightly it might 
 illumine the conduct of other men toward whom she was 
 indifferent. 
 
 So Mary was angry this time; angry in earnest, and 
 Jane felt the irritable palm more than once. I, too, came 
 in for my share of her ill temper, as most certainly would 
 Brandon, had he allowed himself to come within reach of 
 her tongue, which he was careful not to do. An angry 
 porcupine would have been pleasant company compared 
 with Mary during this time. There was no living with 
 her in peace. Even the king fought shy of her, and the 
 queen was almost afraid to speak. Probably so much 
 general disturbance was never before or since collected 
 within one small body as in that young Tartar- Venus, 
 Mary. She did not tell Jane the cause of her vexation, 
 but only said she "verily hated Brandon," and that, of 
 course, was the key to the whole situation. 
 
 After a fortnight, this ill-humor began to soften in the 
 glowing warmth of her heart, which was striving to reas 
 sert itself, and the desire to see Brandon began to get the 
 better of her sense of injury. 
 
 Brandon, tired of this everlasting watchfulness to keep 
 himself out of temptation, and, dreading at any moment 
 that lapse from strength which is apt to come to the 
 strongest of us, had resolved to quit his place at court and 
 go to New Spain at once. He had learned, upon inquiry, 
 that a ship would sail from Bristol in about twenty days, 
 and another six weeks later. So he chose the former and 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 91 
 
 was making his arrangements to leave as soon as pos* 
 sible. 
 
 He told me of his plans and spoke of his situation: 
 "You know the reason for my going," he said, "even if 
 I have never spoken of it. I am not much of a Joseph, 
 and am very little given to running away from a beautiful 
 woman, but in this case I am fleeing from death itself. 
 And to think what a heaven it would be. You are right, 
 Caskoden; no man can withstand the light of that girl s 
 smile. I am unable to tell how I feel toward her. It some 
 times seems that I can not live another hour without seeing 
 her; yet, thank God, I have reason enough left to know 
 that every sight of her only adds to an already incurable 
 malady. What will it be when she is the wife of the king 
 of France? Does it not look as if wild life in New Spain 
 is my only chance?" 
 
 I assented as we joined hands, and our eyes were moist 
 as I told him how I should miss him more than anyone 
 else in all the earth excepting Jane, in mental reserva 
 tion. 
 
 I told Jane what Brandon was about to do, knowing full 
 well she would tell Alary ; which she did at once. 
 
 Poor Mary ! The sighs began to come now, and such 
 small vestiges of her ill-humor toward Brandon as still re 
 mained were frightened off in a hurry by the fear that she 
 had seen the last of him. 
 
 She had not before fully known that she loved him. She 
 knew he was the most delightful companion she had ever 
 met, and that there was an exhilaration about his presence 
 which almost intoxicated her and made life an ecstasy, yet 
 she did not know it was love. It needed but the thought 
 that she was about to lose him to make her know her mal 
 ady, and meet it face to face. 
 
92 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Upon the evening when Mary learned all this, she went 
 into her chamber very early and closed the door. No one 
 interrupted her until Jane went in to robe her for the 
 night, and to retire. She then found that Mary had robed 
 herself and was lying in bed with her head covered, ap 
 parently asleep. Jane quietly prepared to retire, and lay 
 clown in her own bed. The girls usually shared one couch, 
 but during Mary s ill-temper she had forced Jane to sleep 
 alone. 
 
 After a short silence Jane heard a sob from the other 
 bed, then another, and another. 
 
 "Mary, are you weeping?" she asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What is the matter, dear?" 
 
 "Nothing," with a sigh. 
 
 "Do you wish me to come to your bed ?" 
 
 "Yes, I do." So Jane went over and lay beside Mary, 
 who gently put her arms about her neck. 
 
 "When will he leave ?" whispered Mary, shyly confess 
 ing all by her question. 
 
 "I do not know," responded Jane, "but he will see you 
 before he goes." 
 
 "Do you believe he will ?" 
 
 "I know it;" and with this consolation Mary softly 
 wept herself to sleep. 
 
 After this, for a few days, Mary was quiet enough. 
 Her irritable mood had vanished, but Jane could see that 
 she was on the lookout for some one all the time, although 
 she made the most pathetic little efforts to conceal her 
 watchfulness. 
 
 At last a meeting came about in this way : Next to the 
 king s bed-chamber was a luxuriously furnished little 
 apartment with a well-selected library. Here Brandon 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 93 
 
 and I often went, afternoons, to read, as we were sure to 
 be undisturbed. 
 
 Late one day Brandon had gone over to this quiet re 
 treat, and having selected a volume, took his place in a 
 secluded little alcove half hidden in _arras draperies. 
 There was a cushioned seat along the wall and a small dia 
 mond-shaped window to furnish light. 
 
 He had not been there long when in came Mary. I can 
 not say whether she knew Brandon was there or not, but 
 she was there and he was there, which is the only thing 
 to the point, and rinding him, she stepped into the alcove 
 before he was aware of her presence. 
 
 Brandon was on his feet in an instant, and with a low 
 bow was backing himself out most deferentially, to leave 
 her in sole possession if she wished to rest. 
 
 "Master Brandon, you need not go. I will not hurt 
 you. Besides, if this place is not large enough for us both, 
 I will go. I would not disturb you." She spoke with a 
 tremulous voice and a quick, uneasy glance, and started to 
 move backward out of the alcove. 
 
 "Lady Mary, how can you speak so? You know you 
 must know oh ! I beg you " But she interrupted him 
 by taking his arm and drawing him to a seat beside her 
 on the cushion. She could have drawn down the Colossus 
 of Rhodes with the look she gave Brandon, so full was it 
 of command, entreaty and promise. 
 
 "That s it; I don t know, but I want to know; and I 
 Avant you to sit here beside me and tell me. I am going 
 to be reconciled with you, despite the way you treated me 
 when last we met. I am going to be friends with you 
 whether you will or not. Now what do you say to that, 
 sir?" She spoke with a fluttering little laugh of uneasy 
 non-assurance, which showed that her heart was not 
 
94 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 nearly so confident nor so bold as her words would mak* 
 believe. Poor Brandon, usually so ready, had nothing "to 
 say to that," but sat in helpless silence. 
 
 Was this the sum total of all his wise determinations 
 made at the cost of so much pain and effort? Was this 
 the answer to all his prayers, "Lead me not into tempta 
 tion"? He had done his part, for he had done all he 
 could. Heaven had not helped him, since here was temp 
 tation thrust upon him when least expected, and when the 
 way was so narrow he could not escape, but must meet it 
 face to face. 
 
 Mary soon recovered her self-possession women are 
 better skilled in this art than men and continued : 
 
 "I am not intending to say one word about your treat 
 ment of me that day over in the forest, although it was 
 very bad, and you have acted abominably ever since, 
 Now is not that kind in me?" And she softly laughed 
 as she peeped up at the poor fellow from beneath those 
 sweeping lashes, with the premeditated purpose of tanta 
 lizing him, I suppose. She was beginning to know her 
 power over him, and it was never greater than at this mo 
 ment. Her beauty had its sweetest quality, for the prin 
 cess was sunk and the woman was dominant, with flushed 
 face and flashing eyes that caught a double luster from the 
 glowing love that made her heart beat so fast. Her gown, 
 too, was the best she could have worn to show her charms. 
 She must have known Brandon was there, and must have 
 dressed especially to go to him. She wore her favorite 
 long flowing outer sleeve, without the close fitting inner 
 one. It was slit to the shoulder, and gave entrancing 
 glimpses of her arms with every movement, leaving them 
 almost bare when she lifted her hands, which was often, 
 for she was full of gestures as a Frenchwoman. Her bod- 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 95 
 
 ice was cut lo\v, both back and front, showing ner large 
 perfectly molded throat and neck, like an alabaster pillar 
 of beauty and strength, and disclosing her bosom just to 
 its shadowy incurving, white and billowy as drifted snow 7 . 
 Her hair was thrown back in an attempt at a coil, though, 
 like her own rebellious nature, it could not brook restraint, 
 and persistently escaped in a hundred little curls that 
 fringed her face and lay upon the soft white nape of her 
 neck like fluffy shreds of sun-lit floss on new r cut ivory. 
 
 With the mood that was upon her, I wonder Brandon 
 maintained his self-restraint even for a moment. He felt 
 that his only hope lay in silence, so he sat beside her and 
 said nothing. He told me long afterwards that while sit 
 ting there in the intervals between her speech, the oddest, 
 wildest thoughts ran through his brain. He wondered 
 how he could escape. He thought of the window, and that 
 possibly he might break away through it, and then he 
 thought of feigning illness, and a hundred other absurd 
 schemes, but they all came to nothing, and he sat there to 
 let events take their own course as they seemed deter 
 mined to do in spite of him. 
 
 After a short silence, Mary continued, half banteringly : 
 "Answer me, sir ! I will have no more of this. You shall 
 treat me at least with the courtesy you would show a 
 bourgeoise girl/ 
 
 "Oil, that you were only a burgher s daughter." 
 
 "Yes, I know all that ; but I am not. It can t be helped, 
 and you shall answer me." 
 
 "There is no answer, dear lady I beg you oh, do you 
 not see " 
 
 "Yes, yes ; but answer my question ; am I not kind 
 more than you deserve ?" 
 
 "Indeed, yes; a thousand times. You have alwavs 
 
96 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 been so kind, so gracious and so condescending to me that 
 I can only thank you, thank you, thank you," answered 
 Brandon, almost shyly ; not daring to lift his eyes to hers. 
 
 Mary saw the manner quickly enough what woman 
 ever missed it, much less so keen-eyed a girl as she and 
 it gave her confidence, and brought back the easy banter 
 of her old time manner. 
 
 "How modest we have become! Where is the bold 
 ness of which we used to have so much ? Kind ? Have I 
 always been so? How about the first time I met you? 
 Was I kind then ? And as to condescension, don t don t 
 use that word between us." 
 
 "No," returned Brandon, who, in his turn, was recov 
 ering himself, "no, I can t say that you were very kind at 
 first. How you did fly out at me and surprise me. It 
 was so unexpected it almost took me off my feet," and 
 they both laughed in remembering the scene of their first 
 meeting. "No, I can t say your kindness showed itself 
 very strongly in that first interview, but it was there nev 
 ertheless, and when Lady Jane led me back, your real 
 nature asserted itself, as it always does, and you were kind 
 to me ; kind as only you can be." 
 
 That was getting very near to the sentimental ; danger 
 ously near, he thought ; and he said to himself : "If this 
 does not end quickly I shall have to escape." 
 
 "You are easily satisfied if you call that good," laugh 
 ingly returned Mary. "I can be ever so much better than 
 that if I try." 
 
 "Let me see you try," said Brandon. 
 
 "Why, I m trying now," answered Mary with a dis 
 tracting little pout. "Don t you know genuine out-and- 
 out goodness when you see it? I m doing my very best 
 right no w Can t you tell ?" 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 97 
 
 "Yes, I think I recognize it ; but but be bad again." 
 
 "No, I won t! I will not be bad even to please you; 
 I have determined not to be bad and I will not not even 
 to be good. This," placing her hand over her heart, "is 
 just full of good to-day," and her lips parted as she 
 laughed at her own pleasantry. 
 
 "I am afraid you had better be bad I give you fair 
 warning," said Brandon huskily. He felt her eyes upon 
 him all the time, and his strength and good resolves were 
 oozing out like wine from an ill-coppered cask. After a 
 short silence Mary continued, regardless of the warn 
 ing: 
 
 "But the position is reversed with us ; at first I was un 
 kind to you, and you were kind to me, but now I am kind 
 to you and you are unkind to me." 
 
 "I can come back at you with your own words," re 
 sponded Brandon. "You don t know when I am kind to 
 you. I should be kinder to myself, at least, were I to 
 leave you and take myself to the other side of the world." 
 
 "Oh ! that is one thing I wanted to ask you about. Jane 
 tells me you are going to New Spain?" 
 
 She was anxious to know, but asked the question partly 
 to turn the conversation which was fast becoming perilous. 
 As a girl, she loved Brandon, and knew it only too well, 
 but she knew also that she was a princess, standing next to 
 the throne of the greatest kingdom on earth; in fact, at 
 that time, the heir apparent Henry having no children 
 for the people would not have the Scotch king s imp and 
 the possibility of such a thing as a union with Brandon 
 had never entered her head, however passionate her feel 
 ings toward him. She also knew that speaking a thought 
 vitalizes it and gives it force ; so, although she could not 
 deny herself the pleasure of being near him, of seeing 
 f 
 
98 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 him, and hearing the tones of his voice, and now and then 
 feeling the thrill of an accidental touch, she had enough 
 good sense to know that a mutual confession, that is, tak 
 ing it for granted Brandon loved her, as she felt almost 
 sure he did, must be avoided at all hazards. It was not 
 to be thought of between people so far apart as they. The 
 brink was a delightful place, full of all the sweet ecstasies 
 and thrilling joys of a seventh heaven, but over the brink 
 well ! there should be no "over," for who was she ? And 
 who was he ? Those two dreadfully stubborn facts could 
 not be forgotten, and the gulf between them could not be 
 spanned ; she knew that only too well. No one better. 
 
 Brandon answered her question : "I do not know about 
 going; I think I shall. I have volunteered with a ship 
 that sails in two or three weeks from Bristol, and I sup 
 pose I shall go." 
 
 "Oh, no ! do you really mean it ?" It gave her a pang 
 to hear that he was actually going, and her love pulsed 
 higher ; but she also felt a sense of relief, somewhat as a 
 conscientious house-breaker might feel upon finding the 
 door securely locked against him. It would take away a 
 temptation which she could not resist, and yet dared not 
 yield to much longer. 
 
 "I think there is no doubt that I mean it," replied Bran 
 don. "I should like to remain in England until I can 
 : save enough money out of the king s allowance to pay the 
 i debt against my father s estate, so that I may be able to go 
 j away and feel that my brother and sisters are secure in 
 their home my brother is not strong but I know it is 
 better for me to go now, and hope to find the money out 
 there. I could have paid it with what I Jost to Judson 
 before I discovered him cheating." This was the first 
 time he had ever alluded to the duel, and the thought of it, 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 99 
 
 in Mary s mind, added a faint touch of fear to her feeling 
 toward him. 
 
 She looked up with a light in her eyes and asked: 
 What is the debt? How much? Let me give you the 
 money. I have so much more than I need. Let me pay 
 it. Please tell me how much it is and I will hand it to 
 you. You can come to my rooms and get it or I will send 
 it to you. Now tell me that I may. Quickly." And she 
 was alive with enthusiastic interest. 
 
 " There now ! you are kind again ; as kind as even you 
 can be. Be sure, I thank you, though I say it only once," 
 and he looked into her eyes with a gaze she could not 
 stand even for an instant. This was growing dangerous 
 again, so, catching himself, he turned the conversation 
 back into the bantering vein. 
 
 "Ah ! you want to pay the debt that I may have no ex 
 cuse to remain ? Is that it ? Perhaps you are not so kind 
 after all." 
 
 "No! no! you know better. But let me pay the debt. 
 How much is it and to whom is it owing? Tell me at 
 once, I command you." 
 
 "No ! no ! Lady Mary, I can not." 
 
 "Please do. I beg if I can not command. Now I 
 know you will ; you would not make me beg twice for 
 anything?" She drew closer to him as she spoke and put 
 her hand coaxingly upon his arm. With an irresistible im 
 pulse he took the hand in his and lifted it to his lips in a 
 lingering caress that could not be mistaken. It was all so 
 quick and so full of fire and meaning that Mary took 
 fright, and the princess, for the moment, came uppermost. 
 
 "Master Brandon!" she exclaimed sharply, and drew 
 away her hand. Brandon dropped the hand and moved 
 over on the seat. He did not speak, but turned his face 
 
100 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 from her and looked out of the window toward the river. 
 Thus they sat in silence, Brandon s hand resting listlessly 
 upon the cushion between them. Mary saw the eloquent 
 movement away from her and his speaking attitude, with 
 averted face ; then the princess went into eclipse, and the 
 imperial woman was ascendant once more. She looked at 
 him for a brief space with softening eyes, and, lifting her 
 hand, put it back in his, saying : 
 
 "There it is again if you want it." 
 
 Want it? Ah! this was too much! The hand would 
 not satisfy now ; it must be all, all ! And he caught her 
 to his arms with a violence that frightened her. 
 
 "Please don t, please ! Not this time. Ah ! have mercy, 
 
 Charl- Well! There! .... There! Mary 
 
 mother, forgive me." Then her woman spirit fell before 
 the whirlwind of his passion, and she was on his breast 
 with her white arms around his neck, paying the same 
 tribute to the little blind god that he would have exacted 
 from the lowliest maiden of the land. Just as though it 
 were not the blood of fifty kings and queens that made so 
 red and sweet, aye, sweet as nectar thrice distilled, those 
 lips which now so freely paid their dues in coined bliss. 
 
 Brandon held the girl for a moment or two, then fell 
 upon his knees and buried his face in her lap. 
 
 "Heaven help me !" he cried. 
 
 She pushed the hair back from his forehead with her 
 hand and as she fondled the curls, leaned over him and 
 softly whispered : 
 
 "Heaven help us both ; for I love you !" 
 
 He sprang to his feet "Don t! don t! I pray you," 
 he said wildly, and almost ran from her. 
 
 Mary followed him nearly to the door of the room, but 
 when he turned he saw that she had stopped, and was 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS IO1 
 
 standing with her hands over her face, as if in tears. 
 
 He went back to her and said : "I tried to avoid this, 
 and if you had helped me, it would never " But he re 
 membered how he had always despised Adam for throw 
 ing 1 the blame upon Eve, no matter how much she may 
 have deserved it, and continued: "No; I do not mean 
 that. It is all my fault. I should have gone away long 
 ago. I could not help it ; I tried. Oh ! I tried." 
 
 Mary s eyes were bent upon the floor, and tears were 
 falling over her flushed cheeks unheeded and unchecked. 
 
 "There is no fault in any one ; neither could I help it," 
 she murmured. 
 
 "No, no ; it is not that there is any fault in the ordinary 
 sense; it is like suicide or any other great, self-inflicted 
 injury with me. I am different from other men. I shall 
 never recover." 
 
 "I know only too well that you are different from other 
 men, and and I, too, am different from other women 
 am I not?" 
 
 "Ah, different! There is no other woman in all this 
 wide, long world," and they were in each other s arms 
 again. She turned her shoulder to him and rested with 
 the support of his arms about her. Her eyes were cast 
 down in silence, and she was evidently thinking as she 
 toyed with the lace of his doublet. Brandon knew her 
 varying expressions so well that he .saw there was some 
 thing wanting, so he asked : 
 
 "Is there something you wish to say ?" 
 
 "Not I," she responded with emphasis on the pronoun. 
 
 "Then is it something you wish me to say ?" 
 
 She nodded her head slowly: "Yes." 
 
 "What is it? Tell me and I will say it," 
 
 She shook her head slowly: "No." 
 
KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "What is it ? I can not guess." 
 
 "Did you not like to hear me say that that I loved 
 you?" 
 
 "Ah, yes; you know it. But oh! do you wish to 
 hear me say it ?" 
 
 The head nodded rapidly two or three times: "Yes/ 
 And the black curving lashes were lifted for a fleeting, 
 luminous instant. 
 
 "It is surely not necessary ; you have known it so long 
 already, but I am only too glad to say it. I love you." 
 
 She nestled closer to him and hid her face on his breast. 
 
 "Now that I have said it, what is my reward?" he 
 asked and the fair face came up, red and rosy, with 
 "rewards," any one of which was worth a king s ransom. 
 
 "But this is worse than insanity," cried Brandon, as he 
 almost pushed her from him. "We can never belong tc 
 each other ; never." 
 
 "No," said Mary, with a despairing shake of the head, 
 as the tears began to flow again ; "no ! never." And fall 
 ing upon his knees, he caught both her hands in his, 
 sprang to his feet and ran from the room. 
 
 Her words showed him the chasm anew. She saw the 
 distance between them even better than he. Evidently it 
 seemed further looking down than looking up. There was 
 nothing left now but flight. 
 
 He sought refuge in his own apartments and wildly 
 walked the floor, exclaiming, "Fool ! fool that I am to lay 
 up this store of agony to last me all my days. Why did 
 I ever come to this court ? God pity me pity me !" And 
 he fell upon his knees at the bed, burying his face in his 
 arms, his mighty man s frame shaking as with a palsy. 
 
 That same night Brandon told me how he had commit- 
 ted suicide, as he put it, and of his intention to go to Bris- 
 
LOVE S FIERCE SWEETNESS 103 
 
 tol and there await the sailing of the ship, and perhaps 
 find a partial resurrection in New Spain. 
 
 Unfortunately, he could not start to Bristol at once, as 
 he had given some challenges for a tournament at Rich 
 mond, and could furnish no good excuse to withdraw 
 them; but he would not leave his room, nor again see 
 "that girl who was driving him mad." 
 
 It was better, he thought, and wisely too, that there be 
 no leave-taking, but that he should go without meeting 
 her. 
 
 "If I see her again," he said, "I shall have to kill some 
 one, even if it is only myself." 
 
 I heard him tossing in his bed all night, and when morn 
 ing came he arose looking haggard enough, but w r ith his 
 determination to run away and see Mary no more, 
 stronger than ever upon him. 
 
 But providence, or fate, or some one, ordered it differ 
 ently, and there was plenty of trouble ahead. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD 
 
 About a week after Brandon s memorable interview 
 with Mary an incident occurred which changed every 
 thing and came very near terminating his career in the 
 flower of youth. It also brought about a situation of af 
 fairs that showed the difference in the quality of these two 
 persons thrown so marvelously together from their far 
 distant stations at each end of the ladder of fortune, in a 
 way that reflected very little credit upon the one from the 
 upper end. But before I tell you of that I will relate 
 briefly one or two other matters that had a bearing upon 
 what was done, and the motives prompting it. 
 
 To begin with, Brandon had kept himself entirely away 
 from the princess ever since the afternoon at the king s 
 ante-chamber. The first day or so she sighed, but thought 
 little of his absence; then she wept, and as usual began 
 to grow piqued and irritable. 
 
 What was left of her judgment told her it was better for 
 them to remain apart, but her longing to see Brandon 
 grew stronger as the prospect of it grew less, and she be 
 came angry that it could not be gratified. Jane was right ; 
 an unsatisfied desire with Mary was torture. Even her 
 sense of the great distance between them had begun to 
 fade, and when she so wished for him and he did not 
 come, their positions seemed to be reversed. At the end 
 of the third day she sent for him to come to her rooms, 
 but he, by a mighty effort, sent back a brief note saying 
 
 (104) 
 
THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD 105 
 
 that he could not and ought not to go. This, of course, 
 threw Mary into a great passion, for she judged him by 
 herself a very common but dangerous method of judg 
 ment and thought that if he felt at all as she did, he 
 would throw prudence to the winds and come to her, as 
 she knew she would go to him if she could. It did not 
 occur to her that Brandon knew himself well enough to 
 be sure he would never go to New Spain if he allowed 
 another grain of temptation to fall into the balance against 
 him, but would remain in London to love hopelessly, to 
 try to win a hopeless cause, and end it all by placing his 
 head upon the block. 
 
 It required all his strength, even now, to hold in line 
 his determination to go to Xew Spain. He had reached 
 his limit. He had a fund of that most useful of all wis 
 dom, knowledge of self, and knew his limitations ; a little 
 matter concerning which nine men out of ten go all their 
 lives in blissless ignorance. 
 
 Mary, who was no more given to self-analysis than her 
 pet linnet, did not appreciate Brandon s potent reasons, 
 and was in a flaming passion when she received his an 
 swer. Rage and humiliation completely smothered, for the 
 time, her affection, and she said to herself, over and over 
 again : "I hate the low-born wretch. Oh ! to think what 
 I have permitted !" And tears of shame and repentance 
 came in a flood, as they have come from yielding woman s 
 eyes since the world was born. Then she began to doubt 
 his motives. As long as she thought she had given her 
 gift to one who offered a responsive passion, she was glad 
 and proud of what she had done, but she had heard of 
 man s pretense in order to cozen woman out of her favors, 
 and she began to think she had been deceived. To her the 
 logic seemed irresistible ; that if the same motive lived in 
 
106 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 his heart, and prompted him, that burned in her breast, 
 and induced her, who was virgin to her very heart-core, 
 and whose hand Had hardly before been touched by the 
 hand of man, to give so much, no power of prudence could 
 keep him away from her. So she concluded she had given 
 her gold for his dross. This conclusion was more easily- 
 arrived at owing to the fact that she had never been en 
 tirely sure of the state of his heart. There had always 
 been a love-exciting grain of doubt ; and when the thought 
 came to her that she had been obliged to ask him to tell 
 her of his affection, and that the advances had really all 
 been made by her, that confirmed her suspicion. It seemed 
 only too clear that she had been too quick to give no very 
 comforting thought to a proud girl, even though a mis 
 taken one. 
 
 As the days went by and Brandon did not come, her 
 anger cooled, as usual, and again her heart began to 
 ache; but her sense of injury grew stronger day by day, 
 and she thought she was, beyond a doubt, the most ill- 
 used of women. 
 
 The other matter I wish to tell you is, that the negotia 
 tions for Mary s marriage with old Louis XII of France 
 were beginning to be an open secret about the court. The 
 Due de Longueville, who had been held by Henry for 
 some time as a sort of a hostage from the French king, 
 had opened negotiations by inflaming the flickering pas 
 sions of old Louis with descriptions of Mary s beauty. As 
 there was a prospect for a new emperor soon, and as the 
 imperial bee had of late been making a most vehement 
 buzzing in Henry s bonnet, he encouraged De Longueville, 
 and thought it would be a good time to purchase the help 
 of France at the cost of his beautiful sister and a hand 
 some dower. Mary, of course, had not been consulted, 
 
THE TROUBLE IX BILLINGSGATE WARD 107 
 
 and although she had coaxed her brother out of other 
 marriage projects, Henry had gone about this as if he 
 were in earnest, and it was thought throughout the court 
 that Mary s coaxings would be all in vain a fear which 
 she, herself, had begun to share, notwithstanding her 
 usual self-confidence. 
 
 She hated the thought of the marriage, and dreaded it 
 as she would death itself, though she said nothing to any 
 one but Jane, and was holding her forces in reserve for the 
 grand attack. She was preparing the way by being very 
 sweet and kind to Henry. 
 
 Xow all of this, coming upon the heels of her trouble 
 with Brandon, made her most wretched indeed. For the 
 first time in her life she began to feel suffering ; that great 
 broadener, in fact, maker, of human character. 
 
 Above all, there was an alarming sense of uncertainty 
 in everything. She could hardly bring herself to believe 
 that Brandon would really go to Xew Spain, and that she 
 would actually lose him, although she did not want him, 
 as yet ; that is, as a prospective husband. Flashes of all 
 sorts of wild schemes had begun to shoot through her 
 anger and grief when she stared in the face the prospect 
 of her double separation from him her marriage to an 
 other, and the countless miles of fathomless sea that would 
 be between them. She could endure anything better than 
 uncertainty. A menacing future is the keenest of all tor 
 tures for any of us to bear, but especially for a girl like 
 Mary. Death itself is not so terrible as the fear of it. 
 
 Xow about this time there lived over in Billingsgate 
 Ward the worst part of London a Jewish soothsayer 
 named Grouche. He was also an astrologer, and had of 
 late grown into great fame as prophet of the future a 
 fortune-teller. 
 
108 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 His fame rested on several remarkable predictions 
 which had been fulfilled to the letter, and I really think the 
 man had some wonderful powers. They said he was half 
 Jew, half gypsy, and, if there is alchemy in the mixing of 
 blood, that combination should surely produce something 
 peculiar. The city folk were said to have visited him in 
 great numbers, and, notwithstanding the priests and bish 
 ops all condemned him as an imp of satan and a follower 
 of witchcraft, many fine people, including some court 
 ladies, continued to go there by stealth in order to take a 
 dangerous, inquisitive peep into the future. I say by 
 stealth ; because his ostensible occupation of soothsaying 
 and fortune-telling was not his only business. His house 
 was really a place of illicit meeting, and the soothsaying 
 was often but an excuse for going there. Lacking this 
 ostensible occupation, he would not have been allowed to 
 keep his house within the wall, but would have been rele 
 gated to his proper place Bridge Ward Without. 
 
 Mary had long wanted to see this Grouche, at first out 
 of mere curiosity ; but Henry, who was very moral with 
 other people s consciences would not think of permitting 
 it. Two ladies, Lady Chesterfield and Lady Ormond, 
 both good and virtuous women, had been detected in such 
 a visit, and had been disgraced and expelled from court in 
 the most cruel manner by order of the king himself. 
 
 Now, added to Mary s old-time desire to see Grouche, 
 came a longing to know the outcome of the present mo 
 mentous complication of affairs that touched her so 
 closely. 
 
 She could not wait for Time to unfold himself, and drop 
 his budget of events as he traveled, but she must plunge 
 ahead of him, and know, beforehand, the stores of the 
 fates an intrusion they usually resent. I need not tell 
 
THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD 109 
 
 you that was Mary s only object in going, nor that her 
 heart was as pure as a babe s quite as chaste, and almost 
 as innocent. It is equally true that the large proportion of 
 persons who visited Grouche made his soothsaying an ex 
 cuse. The thought of how wretched life would be with 
 Louis had put into Mary s mind the thought of how sweet 
 it would be with Brandon. Then came the wish that 
 Brandon had been a prince, or even a great English noble 
 man ; and then leaped up, all rainbow-hued, the hope that 
 he might yet, by reason of his own great virtues, rise to 
 all of these, and she become his wife. But at the thres 
 hold of this fair castle came knocking the thought that 
 perhaps he did not care for her, and had deceived her to 
 gain her favors. Then she flushed with anger and swore 
 to herself she hated him, and hoped never to see his face 
 again. And the castle faded and was wafted away to the 
 realms of airy nothingness. 
 
 Ah ! how people will sometimes lie to themselves ; and 
 sensible people at that. 
 
 So Mary wanted to see Grouche ; first, through curios 
 ity, in itself a stronger motive than we give it credit for ; 
 second, to learn if she would be able to dissuade Henry 
 from the French marriage and perhaps catch a hint how 
 to do it ; and last, but by no means least, to discover the 
 state of Brandon s heart toward her. 
 
 By this time the last-named motive was strong enough 
 to draw her any whither, although she would not acknowl 
 edge it, even to herself, and in truth hardly knew it; so 
 full are we of things we know not of. 
 
 So she determined to go to see Grouche secretly, and 
 was confident she could arrange the visit in such a way 
 that it would never be discovered. 
 
 One morning I met Jane, who told me, with troubled 
 
110 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 face, that she and Mary were going to London to make 
 some purchases, would lodge at Bridewell House, and go 
 over to Billingsgate that evening to consult Grouche. 
 Mary had taken the whim into her willful head, and Jane 
 could not dissuade her. 
 
 The court was all at Greenwich and nobody at Bride 
 well, so Mary thought they could disguise themselves as 
 orange girls and easily make the trip without any one 
 being the wiser. 
 
 It was then, as now, no safe matter for even a man to 
 go unattended through the best parts of London after 
 dark, to say nothing of Billingsgate, that nest of water- 
 rats and cut-throats. But Mary did not realize the full 
 danger of the trip, and would, as usual, allow nobody to 
 tell her. 
 
 She had threatened Jane with all sorts of vengeance if 
 she divulged her secret, and Jane was miserable enough 
 between her fears on either hand; for Mary, though the 
 younger, held her in complete subjection. Despite her 
 fear of Mary, Jane asked me to go to London and fol 
 low them at a distance, unknown to the princess. I was 
 to be on duty that night at a dance given in honor of the 
 French envoys who had just arrived, bringing with them 
 commission of special ambassador to De Longueville to 
 negotiate the treaty of marriage, and it was impossible for 
 me to go. Mary was going partly to avoid this ball, and 
 her willful persistency made Henry very angry. I regret 
 ted that I could not go, but I promised Jane I would send 
 Brandon in my place, and he would answer the purpose of 
 protection far better than I. I suggested that Brandon 
 take with him a man, but Jane, who was in mortal fear of 
 Mary, would not listen to it. So it was agreed that Bran- 
 
THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD III 
 
 don should meet Jane at a given place and learn the par 
 ticulars, and this plan was carried out. 
 
 Brandon went up to London and saw Jane, and before 
 the appointed time hid himself behind a hedge near the 
 private gate through which the girls intended to take their 
 departure from Bridewell. 
 
 They would leave about dusk and return, so Mary said, 
 before it grew dark. 
 
 The citizens of London at that time paid very little 
 attention to the law requiring them to hang out their 
 lights, and when it was dark it was dark. 
 
 Scarcely was Brandon safely ensconced behind a clump 
 of arbor vitae when whom should he see coming down the 
 path toward the gate but his grace, the Duke of Bucking 
 ham. He was met by one of the Bridewell servants who 
 was in attendance upon the princess. 
 
 "Yes, your grace, this is the gate," said the girl. "You 
 can hide yourself and watch them as they go. They will 
 pass out on this path. As I said, I do not know where 
 they are going ; I only overheard them say they would go 
 out at this gate just before dark. I am sure they go on 
 some errand of gallantry, which your grace will soon 
 learn, I make no doubt." 
 
 He replied that he "would take care of that." 
 
 Brandon did not see where Buckingham hid himself, but 
 soon the two innocent adventurers came down the path, 
 attired in the short skirts and bonnets of orange girls, and 
 let themselves out at the gate. Buckingham followed them 
 and Brandon quickly followed him. The girls passed 
 through a little postern in the wall opposite Bridewell 
 House and walked rapidly up Fleet Ditch ; climbed Lud- 
 gate Hill ; passed Paul s church ; turned toward the river 
 down Bennett Hill ; to the left on Thames street ; then on 
 
112 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 past the Bridge, following- Lower Thames street to the 
 neighborhood of Fish-street Hill, where they took an alley 
 leading up toward East Cheap to Grouche s house. 
 
 It was a brave thing for the girl to do, and showed the 
 determined spirit that dwelt in her soft white breast. 
 Aside from the real dangers, there was enough to deter 
 any woman, I should think. 
 
 Jane wept all the way over, but Mary never flinched. 
 
 There were great mud-holes where one sank ankle-deep, 
 for no one paved their streets at that time, strangely 
 enough preferring to pay the sixpence fine per square 
 yard for leaving it undone. At one place, Brandon told 
 me, a load of hay blocked the streets, compelling them 
 to squeeze between the houses and the hay. He could 
 hardly believe the girls had passed that way, as he had not 
 always been able to keep them in view, but had sometimes 
 to follow them by watching Buckingham. He, however, 
 kept as close as possible, and presently saw them turn 
 down Grouche s alley and enter his house. 
 
 Upon learning where they had stopped, Buckingham 
 hurriedly took himself off, and Brandon waited for the 
 girls to come out. It seemed a very long time that they 
 were in the wretched place, and darkness had well de 
 scended upon London when they emerged. 
 
 Mary soon noticed that a man was following them, and 
 as she did not know who he was, became greatly alarmed. 
 The object of her journey had been accomplished now, so 
 the spur of a strong motive to keep her courage up was 
 lacking. 
 
 "Jane, some one is following us," she whispered. 
 
 "Yes," answered Jane with an unconcern that surprised 
 Mary, for she knew Jane was a coward from the top of 
 her brown head to the tip of her little pink heels. 
 
THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD 113 
 
 "Oh, if I had only taken your advice, Jane, and had 
 never come to this wretched place ; and to think, too, that 
 I came here only to learn the worst. Shall we ever get 
 home alive, do you think ?" 
 
 They hurried on, the man behind them taking less care 
 to remain unseen than he did when coming. Mary s fears 
 grew upon her as she heard his step and saw his form per 
 sistently following them, and she clutched Jane by the 
 arm. 
 
 "It is all up with us, I know. I would give everything 
 I have or ever expect to have on earth for for Master 
 Brandon at this moment." She thought of him as the one 
 person best able to defend her. 
 
 This was only too welcome an opportunity, and Jane 
 said: "That is Master Brandon following us. If we 
 wait a few seconds he will be here," and she called to him 
 before Mary could interpose. 
 
 Now this disclosure operated in two ways. Brandon s 
 presence was, it is true, just what Mary had so ardently 
 wished, but the danger, and, therefore, the need, was 
 gone when she found that the man who was following 
 them had no evil intent. Two thoughts quickly flashed 
 through the girl s mind. She was angry with Brandon 
 for having cheated her out of so many favors and for hav 
 ing slighted her love, as she had succeeded in convincing 
 herself was the case, all of which Grouche had confirmed 
 by telling her he was false. Then she had been discov 
 ered in doing what she knew she should have left un 
 done, and what she was anxious to conceal from every 
 one; and, worst of all, had been discovered by the very 
 person from whom she was most anxious to hide it. 
 
 So she turned upon Jane angrily, "Jane Bolingbroke, 
 
114 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 you shall leave me as soon as we get back to Greenwich 
 for this betrayal of my confidence." 
 
 She was not afraid now that the danger was over, and 
 feared no new danger with Brandon at hand to protect her, 
 for in her heart she felt that to overcome a few fiery drag 
 ons and a company or so of giants would be a mere pas 
 time to him ; yet see how she treated him. The girls had 
 stopped when Jane called Brandon, and he was at once by 
 their side with uncovered head, hoping for, and, of course, 
 expecting, a warm welcome. But even Brandon, with his 
 fund of worldly philosophy, had not learned not to put 
 his trust in princesses, and his surprise was benumbing 
 when Mary turned angrily upon him. 
 
 "Master Brandon, your impudence in following us 
 shall cost you dearly. We do not desire your company, 
 and will thank you to leave us to our own affairs, as we 
 wish you to attend exclusively to yours." 
 
 This from the girl who had given him so much within 
 less than a week ! Poor Brandon ! 
 
 Jane, who had called him up, and was the cause of his 
 following them, began to weep. 
 
 "Sir," said she, "forgive me ; it was not my fault ; she 
 had just said " Slap! came Mary s hand on Jane s 
 mouth ; and Jane was marched off weeping bitterly. 
 
 The girls had started up toward East Cheap when they 
 left Grouche s, intending to go home by an upper route, 
 and now they walked rapidly in that direction. Brandon 
 continued to follow them, notwithstanding what Mary had 
 said, and she thanked him and her God ever after that he 
 did. 
 
 They had been walking not more than five minutes, 
 when, just as the girls turned a corner into a secluded lit 
 tle street, winding its way among the fish warehouses, four 
 
THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD 115 
 
 horsemen passed Brandon in evident pursuit of them. 
 Brandon hurried forward, but before he reached the cor 
 ner heard screams of fright, and as he turned into the 
 street distinctly saw that two of the men had dismounted 
 and were trying to overtake the fleeing girls. Fright 
 lent wings to their feet, and their short skirts affording 
 freedom to their limbs, they were giving the pursuers a 
 warm little race, screaming at every step to the full limit 
 of their voices. How they did run and scream ! It was 
 but a moment till Brandon came up with the pursuers, 
 who, all unconscious that they in turn were pursued, did 
 not expect an attack from the rear. The men remaining 
 on horseback shouted an alarm to their comrades, but so 
 intent were the latter in their pursuit that they did not 
 hear. One of the men on foot fell dead, pierced through 
 the back of the neck by Brandon s sword, before either 
 was aware of his presence. The other turned, but was a 
 corpse before he could cry out. The girls had stopped a 
 short distance ahead, exhausted by their flight. Mary 
 had stumbled and fallen, but had risen again, and both 
 were now leaning against a wall, clinging to each other, 
 a picture of abject terror. Brandon ran to the girls, but 
 by the time he reached them the two men on horseback 
 were there also, hacking away at him from their saddles. 
 Brandon did his best to save himself from being cut to 
 pieces and the girls from being trampled under foot by 
 the prancing horses. A narrow jutting of the wall, a foot 
 or two in width, a sort of flying buttress, gave him a little 
 advantage, and up into the slight shelter of the corner 
 thus formed he thrust the girls, and with his back to them, 
 faced his unequal foe with drawn sword. Fortunately the 
 position allowed only one horse to attack them. Two men 
 on foot would have been less in each other s wav and 
 
Il6 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 much more effective. The men, however, stuck to their 
 horses, and one of them pressed the attack, striking at 
 Brandon most viciously. It being dark, and the distance 
 deceptive, the horseman s sword at last struck the wall, a 
 flash of sparks flying in its trail, and lucky it was, or this 
 story would have ended here. Thereupon Brandon thrust 
 his sword into the horse s throat, causing it to rear back 
 ward, plunging and lunging into the street, where it fell, 
 holding its rider by the leg against the cobble-stones of a 
 little gutter. 
 
 A cry from the fallen horseman brought his companion 
 to his side, and gave Brandon an opportunity to escape 
 with the girls. Of this he took advantage, you may be 
 sure, for one of his mottoes was, that the greatest fool in 
 the world is he who does not early in life learn how and 
 when to run. 
 
 In the light of the sparks from the sword-stroke upon 
 the wall, brief as it was, Brandon recognized the face of 
 Buckingham, from which the mask had fallen. Of this 
 he did not speak to any one till long afterward, and his 
 silence was almost his undoing. 
 
 How often a word spoken or unspoken may have the 
 very deuce in it either way. 
 
 The girls were nearly dead from fright, and in order to 
 make any sort of progress Brandon had to carry the prin 
 cess and help Jane until he thought they were out of dan 
 ger. Jane soon recovered, but Mary did not seem anx 
 ious to walk, and lay with her head upon Brandon s 
 shoulder, apparently contented enough. 
 
 In a few minutes Jane said, "If you can walk now, my 
 lady, I think you had better. We shall soon be near 
 Fishmonger s Hall, where some one is sure to be standing 
 $t this hour," 
 
"BRANDON THRUST HIS S^ORD 
 INTO THE HORSE S THROAT." 
 
THE TROUBLE IN BILLINGSGATE WARD 117 
 
 Mary said nothing in reply to Jane, but, as Brandon fell 
 a step or two behind at a narrow crossing, whispered: 
 
 " Forgive me, forgive me ; I will do any penance you 
 ask ; I am unworthy to speak your name. I owe you my 
 life and more and more a thousand times." At this she 
 lifted her arm and placed her hand upon his cheek and 
 neck. She then learned for the first time that he was 
 wounded, and the tears came softly as she slipped from 
 his arms to the ground. She walked beside him quietly 
 for a little time, then, taking his hand in both of hers, 
 gently lifted it to her lips and laid it upon her breast. 
 Half an hour afterward Brandon left the girls at Bridewell 
 House, went over to the Bridge where he had left his 
 horse at a hostelry, and rode down to Greenwich. 
 
 So Mary had made her trip to Grouche s. but it was 
 labor worse than lost. Grouche had told her nothing she 
 wanted to know, though much that he supposed she would 
 like to learn. He had told her she had many lovers, a 
 fact which her face and form would make easy enough 
 to discover. He informed her also that she had a low 
 born lover, and in order to put a little evil in with the 
 good fortune and give what he said an air of truth, he 
 added to Mary s state of unrest more than he thought 
 by telling her that her low-born lover was false. He 
 thought to flatter her by predicting that she would soon 
 marry a very great prince or nobleman, the indications 
 being in favor of the former, and, in place of this making 
 her happy, she wished the wretched soothsayer in the bot 
 tomless pit he and all his prophecies; herself, too, for 
 going to him. His guesses were pretty shrewd ; that is, 
 admitting he did not know who Mary was, which she at 
 least supposed was the case. So Mary wept that night 
 and moaned and moaned because she had gone to 
 
Ii8 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Grouche s. It had added infinitely to the pain of which 
 her heart was already too full, and made her thoroughly 
 wretched and unhappy. As usual though, with the 
 blunders of stubborn, self-willed people, some one else 
 had to pay the cost of her folly. Brandon was paymaster 
 in this case, and when you see how dearly he paid, and 
 how poorly she requited the debt, I fear you will despise 
 her. Wait, though! Be not hasty. The right of judg 
 ment belongs to you know whom. No man knows an 
 other man s heart, much less a woman s, so how can he 
 judge? We shall all have more than enough of judging 
 by and by. So let us put off for as many to-morrows as 
 possible the thing that should be left undone to-day. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 
 
 I thought the king s dance that night would never end, 
 so fond were the Frenchmen of our fair ladies, and I was 
 more than anxious to see Brandon and learn the issue of 
 the girls escapade, as I well knew the danger attending 
 it. 
 
 All things, however, must end, so early in the morning 
 I hastened to our rooms, where I found Brandon lying in 
 his clothes, everything saturated with blood from a dozen 
 sword cuts. He was very weak, and I at once had in a 
 barber, who took off his shirt of mail and dressed his 
 wounds. He then dropped into a deep sleep, while I 
 watched the night out. Upon awakening Brandon told 
 me all that had happened, but asked me to say nothing of 
 his illness, as he wished to keep the fact of his wounds se 
 cret in order that he might better conceal the cause of 
 them. But, as I told you, he did not speak of Bucking 
 ham s part in the affray. 
 
 I saw the princess that afternoon, and expected, of 
 course, she would inquire for her defender. One who 
 had given such timely help and who was suffering so much 
 on her account was surely worth a little solicitude; but 
 not a word did she ask. She did not come near me, but 
 made a point of avoidance, as I could plainly see. The 
 next morning she, with Jane, went over to Scotland Pal 
 ace without so much as a breath of inquiry from either of 
 them. This heartless conduct enraged me; but I was 
 
 (i 9) 
 
120 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 glad to learn afterward that Jane s silence was at Mary s 
 command that bundle of selfishness fearing that any 
 solicitude, however carefully shown upon her part, might 
 reveal her secret. 
 
 It seems that Mary had recent intelligence of the for 
 ward state of affairs in the marriage negotiations, and 
 felt that a discovery by her brother of what she had done, 
 especially in view of the disastrous results, would send her 
 to France despite all the coaxing she could do from then 
 till doomsday. 
 
 It was a terrible fate hanging over her, doubly so in 
 view of the fact that she loved another man ; and looking 
 back at it all from the vantage point of time, I can not 
 wonder that it drove other things out of her head and 
 made her seem selfish in her frightened desire to save her 
 self. 
 
 About twelve o clock of the following night I was awak 
 ened by a knock at my door, and, upon opening, in walked 
 a sergeant of the sheriff of London with four yeomen at 
 his heels. 
 
 The sergeant asked if one Charles Brandon was present, 
 and upon my affirmative answer demanded that he be 
 forthcoming. I told the sergeant that Brandon was con 
 fined to his bed with illness, whereupon he asked to be 
 shown to his room. 
 
 It was useless to resist or to evade, so I awakened 
 Brandon and took the sergeant in. Here he read his war 
 rant to arrest Charles Brandon, Esquire, for the murder of 
 two citizens of London, perpetrated, done and committed 
 upon the night of such and such a day, of this year of our 
 Lord, 1514. Brandon s hat had been found by the side of 
 the dead men, and the authorities had received informa- 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 121 
 
 tion from a high source that Brandon was the guilty per 
 son. That high source was evidently Buckingham. 
 
 When the sergeant found Brandon covered with wounds 
 there was no longer any doubt, and although hardly able 
 to lift his hand he w r as forced to dress and go with them. 
 A horse litter was procured and we all started to London. 
 
 While Brandon was dressing, I said I would at once go 
 and awaken the king, who I knew would pardon the 
 offense when he heard my story, but Brandon asked the 
 sergeant to leave us to ourselves for a short time, and 
 closed the door. 
 
 "Please do nothing of the sort, Caskoden," said he; 
 "if you tell the king I will declare there is not one word of 
 truth in your story. There is only one person in the world 
 who may tell of that night s happenings, and if she does 
 not they shall remain untold. She will make it all right 
 at once, I know. I would not do her the foul wrong to 
 think for one instant that she will fail. You do not know 
 her ; she sometimes seems selfish, but it is thoughtlessness 
 fostered by flattery, and her heart is right. I would 
 trust her with my life. If you breathe a word of what I 
 have told you, you may do more harm than you can ever 
 remedy, and I ask you to say nothing to any one. If the 
 princess would not liberate me .... but that is not to be 
 thought of. Never doubt that she can and will do it bet 
 ter than you think. She is all gold. 
 
 This, of course, silenced me, as I did not know r what 
 new danger I might create, nor how I might mar the mat 
 ter I so much wished to mend. I did not tell Brandon 
 that the girls had left Greenwich, nor of my undefined, 
 and, perhaps, unfounded fear that Alary might not act as 
 he thought she would in a great emergency, but silently 
 
122 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 helped him to dress and went to London along with him 
 and the sheriff s sergeant. 
 
 Brandon was taken to Newgate, the most loathsome 
 prison in London at that time, it being used for felons 
 while Ludgate was for debtors. Here he was thrown 
 into an underground dungeon foul with water that seeped 
 through the old masonry from the moat, and alive with 
 every noisome thing that creeps. There was no bed, no 
 stool, no floor, not even a wisp of a straw; simply the 
 reeking stone walls, covered with fungus, and the window- 
 less arch overhead. One could hardly conceive a more 
 horrible place in which to spend even a moment. I had a 
 glimpse of it by the light of the keeper s lantern as they 
 put him in, and it seemed to me a single night in that 
 awful place would have killed me or driven me mad. I 
 protested and begged and tried to bribe, but it was all of 
 no avail, the keeper had been bribed before I arrived. 
 Although it could do no possible good, I was glad to stand 
 outside the prison walls in the drenching rain, all the rest 
 of that wretched night, that I might be as near as possible 
 to my friend and suffer a little with him. 
 
 Was not I, too, greatly indebted to him? Had he not 
 imperiled his life and given his blood to save the honor 
 of Jane as well as of Mary Jane, dearer to me a thousand 
 fold than the breath of my nostrils ? And was he not suf-. 
 fering at that moment because of this great service, per-, 
 formed at my request and in my place ? If my whole soul 
 had not gone out to him I should have been the most un 
 grateful wretch on earth; worse even than a pair of sel 
 fish, careless girls. But it did go out to him, and I be 
 lieve I would have bartered my life to have freed him from 
 another hour in that dungeon. 
 
 As soon as the prison gates were opened next morning, 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 123 
 
 I again importuned the keeper to give Brandon a more 
 comfortable cell, but his reply was that such crimes had 
 of late become so frequent in London that no favor could 
 be shown those who committed them, and that men like 
 Brandon, who ought to know and act better, deserved the 
 maximum punishment. 
 
 I told him he was wrong in this case ; that I knew the 
 facts, and everything would be clearly explained that very 
 day and Brandon released. 
 
 "That s all very well," responded the stubborn creat 
 ure; "nobody is guilty who comes here; they can every 
 one prove innocence clearly and at once. Notwithstand 
 ing, they nearly all hang, and frequently, for variety s 
 sake, are drawn and quartered." 
 
 I waited about Newgate until nine o clock, and as I 
 passed out met Buckingham and his man Johnson, a sort 
 of lawyer-knight, going in. I went down to the palace at 
 Greenwich, and finding that the girls were still at Scot 
 land, rode over at once to see them. 
 
 Upon getting Mary and Jane to myself, I told them of 
 Brandon s arrest on the charge of murder, and of his con 
 dition, lying half dead from wounds and loss of blood, in 
 that frightful dungeon. The tale moved them greatly, 
 and they both gave way to tears. I think Mary had heard 
 of the arrest before, as she did not seem surprised. 
 
 "Do you think he will tell the cause of the killing?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "I know he will not," I answered; "but I also know 
 that he knows you will," and I looked straight into her 
 face. 
 
 "Certainly we will," said Jane; "we will go to the 
 king at once," and she was on the qui vive to start imme 
 diately. 
 
124 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Mary did not at once consent to Jane s proposition, but 
 sat in a reverie, looking with tearful eyes into vacancy, ap 
 parently absorbed in thought. After a little pressing from 
 us she said: "I suppose it will have to be done; I can 
 see no other way ; but blessed Mother Mary ! . . . . help 
 me!" 
 
 The girls made hasty preparations, and we all started 
 back to Greenwich that Mary might tell the king. On 
 the road over, I stopped at Newgate to tell Brandon that 
 the princess would soon have him out, knowing how wel 
 come liberty would be at her hands; but I was not per 
 mitted to see him. 
 
 I swallowed my disappointment, and thought it would 
 be only a matter of a few hours delay the time spent in 
 riding down to Greenwich and sending back a messenger. 
 So, light-hearted enough at the prospect, I soon joined the 
 girls, and we cantered briskly home. 
 
 After waiting a reasonable time for Mary to see the 
 king, I sought her again to learn where and from whom 
 I should receive the order for Brandon s release, and 
 when I should go to London to bring him. 
 
 What was my surprise and disgust when Mary told me 
 she had not yet seen the king that she had waited to "eat, 
 and bathe, and dress," and that "a few moments more or 
 less could make no difference." 
 
 "My God ! your highness, did I not tell you that the 
 man who saved your life and honor who is covered with 
 /wounds received in your defense, and almost dead from 
 loss of blood, spilled that you might be saved from worse 
 than death is now lying in a rayless dungeon ; a place of 
 frightful filth, such as you would not walk across for all 
 the wealth of London Bridge; is surrounded by loath 
 some, creeping things that would sicken you but to think 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 12$ 
 
 of; is resting under a charge whose penalty is that he be 
 hanged, drawn and quartered ? and yet you stop to eat and 
 bathe and dress. In God s name, Mary Tudor ! of what 
 stuff are you made? If he had waited but one little min 
 ute; had stopped for the drawing of a breath; had held 
 back for but one faltering thought from the terrible odds 
 of four swords to one, what would you now be? Think, 
 princess, think !" 
 
 I was a little frightened at the length to which my feel 
 ing had driven me, but Mary took it all very well, and said 
 slowly and absent-mindedly: 
 
 "You are right ; I will go at once ; I despise my selfish 
 neglect. There is no other way ; I have racked my brain 
 there is no other way. It must be done, and I will go at 
 once and do it." 
 
 "And I will go with you," said I. 
 
 "I do not blame you," she said, "for doubting me, since 
 I have failed once ; but you need not doubt me now. It 
 shall be done, and without delay, regardless of the cost to 
 me. I have thought and thought to find some other way 
 to liberate him, but there is none ; I will go this instant." 
 
 "And I will go with you, Lady Mary," said I, doggedly. 
 
 She smiled at my persistency, and took me by the hand, 
 saying, "Come!" 
 
 We at once went off to find the king, but the smile had 
 faded from Mary s face, and she looked as if she were go 
 ing to execution. Every shade of color had fled, and her 
 lips were the hue of ashes. 
 
 We found the king in the midst of his council, with the 
 French ambassadors, discussing the all-absorbing topic of 
 the marriage treaty; and Henry, fearing an outbreak, 
 refused to see the princess. As usual, opposition but 
 Spurred her determination, so she sat down in the 
 
126 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 room and said she would not stir until she had seen the 
 king. 
 
 After we had waited a few minutes, one of the king s 
 pages came up and said he had been looking all over the 
 palace for me, and that the king desired my presence im 
 mediately. I went in with the page to the king, leaving 
 Mary alone and very melancholy in the ante-chamber. 
 
 Upon entering the king s presence he asked, "Where 
 have you been, Sir Edwin ? I have almost killed a good 
 half-dozen pages hunting you. I want you to prepare im 
 mediately to go to Paris with an embassy to his majesty, 
 King Louis. You will be the interpreter. The ambassa 
 dor you need not know. Make ready at once. The em 
 bassy will leave London from the Tabard Inn one hour 
 hence." 
 
 Could a command to duty have come at a more inop 
 portune time? I was distracted; and upon leaving the 
 king went at once to seek the Lady Mary where I had left 
 her in the ante-room. She had gone, so I went to her 
 apartments, but could not find her. I went to the queen s 
 salon, but she was not there, and I traversed that old ram 
 bling palace from one end to the other without finding 
 her or Lady Jane. 
 
 The king had told me the embassy would be a secret 
 one, and that I was to speak of it to nobody, least of all to 
 the Lady Mary. No one was to know that I was leaving 
 England, and I was to communicate with no one at home 
 while in France. 
 
 The king s command was not to be disobeyed ; to do so 
 would be as much as my life was worth, but besides that, 
 the command of the king I served was my highest duty, 
 and no Caskoden ever failed in that. I may not be as tall 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 127 
 
 as some men, but my fidelity and honor but you will say 
 I boast. 
 
 I was to make ready my bundle and ride six miles to 
 London in one hour ; and almost half that time was spent 
 already. I was sure to be late, so I could not waste an 
 other minute. 
 
 I went to my room and got together a few things neces 
 sary for my journey, but did not take much in the way of 
 clothing, preferring to buy that new in Paris, where I 
 could find the latest styles in pattern and fabric. 
 
 I tried to assure myself that Alary would see the king at 
 once and tell him all, and not allow my dear friend Bran 
 don to lie in that terrible place another night ; yet a per 
 sistent fear gnawed at my heart, and a sort of intuition, 
 that seemed to have the very breath of certainty in its fore 
 boding, made me doubt her. 
 
 As I could find neither Alary nor Jane, I did the next 
 best thing: I wrote a letter to each of them, urging im 
 mediate action, and left them to be delivered by my man 
 Thomas, who was one of those trusty souls that never fail. 
 I did not tell the girls I was about to start for France, 
 but intimated that I was compelled to leave London for 
 a time, and said : "I leave the fate of this man, to whom 
 we all owe so much, in your hands, knowing full well how 
 tender you will be of him." 
 
 I was away from home nearly a month, and as I dared 
 not write, and even Jane did not know where I was, I did 
 not receive, or expect, any letters. The king had ordered 
 secrecy, and if I have mingled with all my faults a single 
 virtue it is that of faithfulness to my trust. So I had no 
 news from England and sent none home. 
 
 During all that time the same old fear lived in my heart 
 that Mary might fail to liberate Brandon. She knew of 
 
128 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 the negotiations concerning the French marriage, as we 
 all did, although only by an indefinite sort of hearsay, 
 and I was sure the half- founded rumors that had reached 
 her ears had long since become certainties, and that her 
 heart was full of trouble and fear of her violent brother. 
 She would certainly be at her coaxing and wheedling 
 again and on her best behavior, and I feared she might re 
 frain from telling Henry of her trip to Grouche s, know 
 ing how severe he was in such matters and how furious 
 he was sure to become at the discovery. I was certain 
 it was this fear which had prevented Mary from going 
 directly to the king on our return to Greenwich from 
 Scotland, and knew that her eating, bathing and dressing 
 were but an excuse for a breathing spell before the 
 dreaded interview. 
 
 This fear remained with me all the time I was away, 
 but when I reasoned with myself I would smother it as 
 well as I could with argumentative attempts at self-assur 
 ance. I would say over and over to myself that Mary 
 could not fail, and that even if she did, there was Jane, 
 dear, sweet, thoughtful, unselfish Jane, who would not 
 allow her to do so. But as far as they go, our intuitions 
 our "feelings," as we call them are worth all the logic 
 in the world, and you can say what you will, but my pre 
 sentiments I speak for no one else are well to be 
 minded. There is another sense hidden about us that will 
 develop as the race grows older. I speak to posterity. 
 
 In proof of this statement, I now tell you that when I 
 returned to London I found Brandon still in the terrible 
 dungeon ; and worse still, he had been tried for murder, 
 and had been condemned to be hanged, drawn and quar 
 tered on the second Friday following. Hanged ! Drawn ! 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 129 
 
 Quartered ! It is time we were doing away with such bar 
 barity. 
 
 \Ye will now go back a month for the purpose of look 
 ing up the doings of a friend of ours, his grace, the Duke 
 of Buckingham. 
 
 On the morning of the fatal battle of Billingsgate, the 
 barber who had treated Brandon s wounds had been called 
 to London to dress a bruised knee for his grace, the duke. 
 In the course of the operation, an immense deal of infor 
 mation oozed out of the barber, one item of which was 
 that he had the night before dressed nine wounds, great 
 and small, for Master Brandon, the king s friend. This 
 established the identity of the man who had rescued the 
 girls, a fact of which Buckingham had had his suspicions 
 all along. So Brandon s arrest followed, as I have already 
 related to you. 
 
 I afterward learned from various sources how this no 
 bleman began to avenge his mishap with Brandon at 
 Mary s ball when the latter broke his sword point. First, 
 he went to Newgate and gave orders to the keeper, who 
 was his tool, to allow no communication with the prisoner, 
 and it was by his instructions that Brandon had been con 
 fined in the worst dungeon in London. Then he went 
 down to Greenwich to take care of matters there, knowing 
 that the king would learn of Brandon s arrest and prob 
 ably take steps for his liberation at once. 
 
 The king had just heard of the arrest when Bucking 
 ham arrived, and the latter found he was right in his sur 
 mise that his majesty would at once demand Brandon s 
 release. 
 
 When the duke entered the king s room Henry called to 
 him: My Lord, you are opportunely arrived. So good 
 a friend of the people of London can help us greatly this 
 
130 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 morning. Our friend Brandon has been arrested for the 
 killing of two men night before last at Billingsgate ward. 
 I am sure there is some mistake, and that the good sheriff 
 has the wrong man, but right or wrong, we want him out 
 and ask your good offices." 
 
 "I shall be most happy to serve your majesty, and will 
 go to London at once to see the lord mayor." 
 
 In the afternoon the duke returned and had a private 
 audience with the king. 
 
 "I did as your majesty requested in regard to Bran 
 don s release," he said, "but on investigation, thought it 
 best to consult you again before proceeding further. I 
 fear there is no doubt that Brandon is the right man. It 
 seems he was out with a couple of wenches concerning 
 whom he got into trouble and stabbed two men in the 
 back. It is a very aggravated case and the citizens are 
 much incensed about it, owing partly to the fact that such 
 occurrences have been so frequent of late. I thought, un 
 der the circumstances, and in view of the fact that your 
 majesty will soon call upon the city for a loan to make up 
 the Lady Mary s dower, it would be wise not to antagon 
 ize them in this matter, but to allow Master Brandon to 
 remain quietly in confinement until the loan is completed 
 and then we can snap our fingers at them." 
 
 "We will snap our fingers at the scurvy burghers now 
 and have the loan, too," returned Henry angrily. "I want 
 Brandon liberated at once, and shall expect another report 
 from you immediately, my lord." 
 
 Buckingham felt that his revenge had slipped through 
 his fingers this time, but he was patient where evil was to 
 be accomplished and could wait. Then it was that the 
 council was called during the progress of which Mary and 
 I had tried to obtain an audience with the king. 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 131 
 
 Buckingham had gone to pay his respects to the queen, 
 and on his way back espied Mary waiting for the king in 
 the ante-room, and went to her. 
 
 At first she was irritated at the sight of this man, whom 
 she so despised, but a thought came to her that she might 
 make use of him. She knew his power with the citizens 
 and city authorities of London, and also knew, or thought 
 she knew, that a smile from her could accomplish every 
 thing with him. She had ample evidence of his infatua 
 tion, and she hoped that she could procure Brandon s 
 liberty through Buckingham without revealing her dan 
 gerous secret. 
 
 Much to the duke s surprise, she smiled upon him and 
 gave a cordial welcome, saying : "My lord, you have been 
 unkind to us of late and have not shown us the light of 
 your countenance. I am glad to see you once more ; tell 
 me the news." 
 
 "I can not say there is much of interest. I have learned 
 the new dance from Caskoden, if that is news, and hope 
 for a favor at our next ball from the fairest lady in the 
 world." 
 
 "And quite welcome," returned Mary, complacently 
 appropriating the title, "and welcome to more than one, I 
 hope, my lord." 
 
 This graciousness would have looked suspicious to one 
 with less vanity than Buckingham, but he saw no craft in 
 it. He did see, however, that Mary did not know who 
 had attacked her in Billingsgate, and he felt greatly re 
 lieved. 
 
 The duke smiled and smirked, and was enchanted at her 
 kindness. They walked down the corridor talking and 
 laughing, Mary awaiting an opportunity to put the im 
 portant question without exciting suspicion. At last it 
 
132 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 came, when Buckingham, half inquiringly, expressed his 
 surprise that Mary should be found sitting at the king s 
 door. 
 
 "I am waiting to see the king," said she. "Little Cas- 
 koden s friend, Brandon, has been arrested for a brawl of 
 some sort over in London, and Sir Edwin and Lady Jane 
 have importuned me to obtain his release, which I have 
 promised to do. Perhaps your grace will allow me to 
 petition you in place of carrying my request to the king. 
 You are quite as powerful as his majesty in London, and 
 I should like to ask you to obtain for Master Brandon 
 his liberty at once. I shall hold myself infinitely obliged, 
 if your lordship will do this for me." She smiled upon 
 him her sweetest smile, and assumed an indifference that 
 would have deceived any one but Buckingham. Upon 
 him, under the circumstances, it was worse than wasted. 
 Buckingham at once consented, and said, that notwith 
 standing the fact that he did not like Brandon, to oblige 
 her highness, he would undertake to befriend a much 
 more disagreeable person. 
 
 "I fear," he said, "it will have to be done secretly 
 by conniving at his escape rather than by an order for his 
 release. The citizens are greatly aroused over the alarm 
 ing frequency of such occurrences, and as many of the 
 offenders have lately escaped punishment by reason of 
 court interference, I fear this man Brandon will have to 
 bear the brunt, in the London mind, of all these unpun 
 ished crimes. It will be next to impossible to liberate him, 
 except by arranging privately with the keeper for his es 
 cape. He could go down into the country and wait in 
 seclusion until it is all blown over, or until London has a 
 new victim, and then an order can be made pardoning him, 
 and he can return." 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 133 
 
 "Pardoning him ! What are you talking of, my lord ? 
 He has done nothing to be pardoned for. He should be, 
 and shall be, rewarded." Mary spoke impetuously, but 
 caught herself and tried to remedy her blunder. "That 
 is, if I have heard the straight of it. I have been told that 
 the killing was done in the defense of two women." 
 Think of this poor unconscious girl, so full of grief and 
 trouble, talking thus to Buckingham, who knew so much 
 more about the affair than even she, who had taken so act 
 ive a part in it. 
 
 "Who told you of it ?" asked the duke. 
 
 Alary saw she had made a mistake, and, after hesitat 
 ing for a moment, answered: "Sir Edwin Caskoden. 
 He had it from Master Brandon, I suppose." Rather 
 adroit this was, but equidistant from both truth and effect 
 iveness. 
 
 "I will go at once to London and arrange for Brandon s 
 escape," said Buckingham, preparing to leave. "But you 
 must not divulge the fact that I do it. It would cost me 
 all the favor I enjoy with the people of London, though I 
 would willingly lose that favor, a thousand times over, for 
 a smile from you." 
 
 She gave the smile, and as he left, followed his retiring 
 figure with her eyes, and thought: "After all, he has a 
 kind heart." 
 
 She breathed a sigh of relief, too, for she felt she had 
 accomplished Brandon s release, and still retained her dan 
 gerous secret, the divulging of which, she feared, would 
 harden Henry s heart against her blandishments and 
 strand her upon the throne of France. 
 
 But she was not entirely satisfied with the arrangement. 
 She knew that her obligation to Brandon was such as to 
 demand of her that she should not leave the matter of his 
 
134 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 release to any other person, much less to an enemy such as 
 f Buckingham. Yet the cost of his freedom by a direct act 
 I of her own would be so great that she was tempted to take 
 I whatever risk there might be in the way that had opened 
 V, itself to her. Not that she would not have made the sacri 
 fice willingly, or would not have told Henry all if that 
 were the only chance to save Brandon s life, but the other 
 way, the one she had taken by Buckingham s help, seemed 
 safe, and, though not entirely satisfying, she could not see 
 how it could miscarry. Buckingham was notably jealous 
 of his knightly word, and she had unbounded faith in her 
 influence over him. In short, like many another person, 
 she w 7 as as wrong as possible just at the time when she 
 thought she was entirely right, and when the cost of a mis 
 take was at its maximum. 
 
 She recoiled also from the thought of Brandon s "es 
 cape," and it hurt her that he should be a fugitive from 
 the justice that should reward him, yet she quieted these 
 disturbing suggestions with the thought that it would be 
 only for a short time, and Brandon, she knew, would be 
 only too glad to make the sacrifice if it purchased for her 
 freedom from the worse than damnation that lurked in the 
 French marriage. 
 
 All this ran quickly through Mary s mind, and brought 
 relief ; but it did not cure the uneasy sense, weighing like 
 lead upon her heart, that she should take no chance with 
 this man s life, and should put no further weight of sacri 
 fice upon him, but should go to the king and tell him a 
 straightforward story, let it hurt where it would. With a 
 little meditation, however, came a thought which decided 
 the question and absolutely made everything bright again 
 for her, so great was her capability for distilling light. 
 She would go at once to Windsor with Jane, and would 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 135 
 
 dispatch a note to Brandon, at Newgate, telling him upon 
 his escape to come to her. He might remain in hiding in 
 the neighborhood of Windsor, and she could see him every 
 day. The time had come to Mary when to "see him 
 every day" would turn Plutonian shades into noonday 
 brightness and weave sunbeams out of utter darkness. 
 With Mary, to resolve was to act ; so the note was soon 
 dispatched by a page, and one hour later the girls were on 
 their road to Windsor. 
 
 Buckingham went to Newgate, expecting to make a vir 
 tue, with Alary, out of the necessity imposed by the king s 
 command, in freeing Brandon. He had hoped to induce 
 Brandon to leave London stealthily and immediately, by 
 representing to him the evil consequences of a break be 
 tween the citizens and the king, liable to grow out of his 
 release, and relied on Brandon s generosity to help him 
 out ; but when he found the note which Mary s page had 
 delivered to the keeper of Newgate, he read it and all his 
 plans were changed. 
 
 He caused the keeper to send the note to the king, sup 
 pressing the fact that he, Buckingham, had any knowledge 
 of it. The duke then at once started to Greenwich, where 
 he arrived and sought the king a few minutes before the 
 time he knew the messenger with Mary s note would come. 
 The king was soon found, and Buckingham, in apparent 
 anger, told him that the city authorities refused to deliver 
 Brandon except upon an order under the king s seal. 
 
 Henry and Buckingham were intensely indignant at the 
 conduct of the scurvy burghers, and an immense amount 
 of self-importance was displayed and shamefully wasted. 
 This manifestation was at its highest when the messenger 
 from Newgate arrived with Mary s poor little note as in 
 tended by the duke, 
 
136 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 The note was handed to Henry, who read aloud as fol 
 lows : 
 
 "To Master Charles Brandon: 
 
 "Greeting Soon you will be at liberty; perhaps, ere 
 this is to your hand. Surely would I not leave you long 
 in prison. I go to Windsor at once, there to live in the 
 hope that I may see you speedily. 
 
 "MARY." 
 
 "What is this?" cried Henry. "My sister writing to 
 Brandon? God s death! My Lord of Buckingham, the 
 suspicions you whispered in my ear may have some truth. 
 We will let this fellow remain in Newgate, and allow our 
 good people of London to take their own course with 
 him." 
 
 Buckingham went to Windsor next day and told Mary 
 that arrangements had been made the night before for 
 Brandon s escape, and that he had heard that Brandon had 
 left for New Spain. 
 
 Mary thanked the duke, but had no smiles for any one. 
 Her supply was exhausted. 
 
 She remained at Windsor nursing her love for the sake 
 of the very pain it brought her, and dreading the battle for 
 more than life itself which she knew she should soon be 
 called upon to fight. 
 
 At times she would fall into one of her old fits of anger 
 because Brandon had not come to see her before he left, 
 but soon the anger melted into tears, and the tears brought 
 a sort of joy when she thought that he had run away 
 from her because he loved her. After Brandon s defense 
 of her in Billingsgate,, Mary had begun to see the whole 
 situation differently, and everything was changed. She 
 still saw the same great distance between them as be- 
 
PUT NOT YOUR TRUST IN PRINCESSES 137 
 
 fore, but with this difference, she was looking up now. 
 Before that event he had been plain Charles Brandon, and 
 she the Princess Mary. She was the princess still, but he 
 was a demi-god. No mere mortal, thought she, could be 
 so brave and strong and generous and wise ; and above all, 
 no mere mortal could vanquish odds of four to one. In 
 the night she would lie on Jane s arm, and amid smothered 
 sobs, would softly talk of her lover, and praise his beauty 
 and perfections, and pour her pathetic little tale over and 
 over again into Jane s receptive ear and warm responsive 
 heart ; and Jane answered with soft little kisses that would 
 have consoled Xiobe herself. Then !Mary would tell how 
 the doors of her life, at the ripe age of eighteen, were 
 closed forever and forever, and that her few remaining 
 years would be but years of waiting for the end. At other 
 times she would brighten, and repeat what Brandon had 
 told her about New Spain ; how fortune s door was open 
 there to those who chose to come, and how he, the best 
 and bravest of them all, would surely win glory and for 
 tune, and then return to buy her from her brother Henry 
 with millions of pounds of yellow gold. Ah, she would 
 wait ! She would wait ! Like Bayard she placed her 
 ransom at a high figure, and honestly thought herself 
 worth it. And so she was to Brandon, or rather had 
 been. But at this particular time the market was down, 
 as you will shortly hear. 
 
 So Mary remained at Windsor and grieved and wept 
 and dreamed, and longed that she might see across the 
 miles of billowy ocean to her love! her love! her love! 
 Meanwhile Brandon had his trial in secret down in Lon 
 don, and had been condemned to be hanged, drawn and 
 quartered for having saved to her more than life itself. 
 
 Put not your trust in princesses. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 JUSTICE, O KING! 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when I returned from 
 France. 
 
 How I hated myself because I had not faced the king s 
 displeasure and had not refused to go until Brandon was 
 safely out of his trouble. It was hard for me to believe 
 that I had left such a matter to two foolish girls, one of 
 them as changeable as the wind, and the other completely 
 under her control. I could but think of the difference be 
 tween myself and Brandon, and well knew, had I been in 
 his place, he would have liberated me or stormed the 
 very walls of London single-handed and alone. 
 
 When I learned that Brandon had been in that dungeon 
 all that long month, I felt that it would surely kill him, 
 and my self-accusation was so strong and bitter, and my 
 mental pain so great, that I resolved if my friend died, 
 either by disease contracted in the dungeon or by execution 
 of his sentence, that I would kill myself. But that is a 
 matter much easier sincerely to resolve upon than to exe 
 cute when the time comes. 
 
 Next to myself, I condemned those wretched girls for 
 leaving Brandon to perish Brandon, to whom they both 
 owed so much. It turned me against all womankind for 
 their selfish sake. 
 
 I did not dally this time. I trusted to no Lady Jane or 
 Lady Mary. I determined to go to the king at once and 
 tell him all. I did not care if the wretched Mary and Jane 
 
JUSTICE, KING! 
 
 both had to marry the French king, or the devil himself. 
 I did not care if they and all the host of their perfidious 
 sisterhood went to the nether side of the universe, there to 
 remain forever. I would retrieve my fault, in so far as it 
 was retrievable, and save Brandon, who was worth them 
 all put together. I would tell Mary and Jane what I 
 thought of them, and that should end matters between us. 
 I felt as I did toward them not only because of their treat 
 ment of Brandon, but because they had made me guilty of 
 a grievous fault, for which I should never, so long as I 
 lived, forgive myself. I determined to go to the king, and 
 go I did within five minutes of the time I heard that Bran 
 don w r as yet in prison. 
 
 I found the king sitting alone at public dinner, and, of 
 course, was denied speech with him. I was in no humor 
 to be balked, so I thrust aside the guards, and, much to 
 even-body s fright, for I was wild with grief, rage and de 
 spair, and showed it in every feature, rushed to the king 
 and fell upon my knees at his feet. 
 
 "Justice, O king !" I cried, and all the courtiers heard. 
 "Justice, O king! for the worst used man and the brav 
 est, truest soul that ever lived and suffered." Here the 
 tears began to stream down my face and my voice choked 
 in my throat. "Charles Brandon, your majesty s one-time 
 friend, lies in a loathsome, rayless dungeon, condemned to 
 death, as your majesty may know, for the killing of two 
 men in Billingsgate Ward. I will tell you all : I should 
 be thrus c out from the society of decent men for not hav 
 ing told you before I left for France, but I trusted it to 
 another who has proved false. I will tell you all. Your 
 sister, the Lady Mary, and Lady Jane Bolingbroke were 
 returning alone, after dark, from a visit to the soothsayer 
 Grouche, of whom your majesty has heard. I had been 
 
140 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 notified of the Lady Mary s intended visit to him, al 
 though she had enjoined absolute secrecy upon my in 
 formant. I could not go, being detained upon your maj 
 esty s service it was the night of the ball to the ambas 
 sadors and I asked Brandon to follow them, which he 
 did, without the knowledge of the princess. Upon re 
 turning, the ladies were attacked by four ruffians, and 
 would have met with worse than death had not the bravest 
 heart and the best sword in England defended them vic 
 toriously against such fearful odds. He left them at 
 Bridewell without hurt or injury, though covered with 
 wounds himself. This man is condemned to be hanged, 
 drawn and quartered, but I know not your majesty s heart 
 if he be not at once reprieved and richly rewarded. Think, 
 my king ! He saved the royal honor of your sister, who 
 is so dear to you, and has suffered so terribly for his loy 
 alty and bravery. The day I left so hurriedly for France 
 the Lady Mary promised she would tell you all and liber 
 ate this man who had so nobly served her; but she is a 
 woman, and was born to betray." 
 
 The king laughed a little at my vehemence. 
 
 "What is this you are telling me, Sir Edwin ? I know 
 of Brandon s death sentence, but as much as I regret it, I 
 can not interfere with the justice of our good people of 
 London for the murder of two knights on their streets. If 
 Brandon committed such a crime, and, I understand he 
 does not deny it, I can not help him, however much I 
 should like to do so. But this nonsense about my sister ! 
 It can not be true. It must be trumped up out of your 
 love in order to save your friend. Have a care, good mas 
 ter, how you say such a thing. If it were true, would 
 not Brandon have told it at his trial?" 
 
 "It is as true as that God lives, my king ! If the Lady 
 
JUSTICE, O KING! 141 
 
 Mary and Lady Jane do not bear me out in every word I 
 have said, let my life pay the forfeit. He would not tell 
 of the great reason for killing the men, fearing to compro 
 mise the honor of those whom he had saved, for, as your 
 majesty is aware, persons sometimes go to Grouche s for 
 purposes other than to listen to his soothsaying. Not in 
 this case, God knows, but there are slanderous tongues, 
 and Brandon was willing to die with closed lips, rather 
 than set them wagging against one so dear to you. It 
 seems that these ladies, who owe so much to him, are also 
 willing that he should die rather than themselves bear the 
 consequences of their own folly. Do not delay, I beseech 
 your majesty. Eat not another morsel, I pray you, until 
 this brave man, who has so truly served you, be taken from 
 his prison and freed from his sentence of death. Come, 
 come, my king! this moment, and all that I have, my 
 wealth, my life, my honor, are yours for all time." 
 
 The king remained a moment in thought with knife in 
 hand. 
 
 "Caskoden, I have never detected you in a lie in all the 
 years I have known you ; you are not very large in body, 
 but your honor is great enough to stock a Goliath. I be 
 lieve you are telling the truth. I will go at once to liber 
 ate Brandon ; and that little hussy, my sister, shall go to 
 France and enjoy life as best she can with her old beauty, 
 King Louis. I know of no greater punishment to inflict 
 upon her. This determines me; she shall coax me out 
 of it no longer. Sir Thomas Brandon, have my horses 
 ready, and I will go to the lord mayor, then to my lord 
 bishop of Lincoln and arrange to close this French treaty 
 at once. Let everybody know that the Princess Mary 
 will, within the month, be queen of France." This was 
 
142 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 said to the courtiers, and was all over London before 
 night. 
 
 I followed closely in the wake of the king, though unin 
 vited, for I had determined to trust to no one, not even his 
 majesty, until Brandon should be free. Henry had said 
 he would go first to the lord mayor and then to Wolsey, 
 but after we crossed the Bridge he passed down Lower 
 Thames street and turned up Fish-street Hill into Grace 
 Church street on toward Bishopgate. He said he would 
 stop at Mistress Cornwallis s and have a pudding; and 
 then on to Wolsey, who at that time lodged in a house 
 near the wall beyond Bishopgate. 
 
 I well knew if the king once reached Wolsey s, it would 
 be wine and quoits and other games, interspersed now and 
 then with a little blustering talk on statecraft, for the rest 
 of the day. Then the good bishop would have in a few 
 pretty London women and a dance would follow with wine 
 and cards and dice, and Henry would spend the night at 
 Wolsey s, and Brandon lie another night in the mire of his 
 Newgate dungeon. 
 
 I resolved to raise heaven and earth, and the other 
 place, too, if necessary, before this should happen. So I 
 rode boldly up to the king, and with uncovered head ad 
 dressed him: "Your majesty gave me your royal word 
 that you would go to the lord mayor first, and this is the 
 road to my lord bishop of Lincoln. In all the years I have 
 known your majesty, both as gallant prince and puissant 
 king, this is the first request I ever proffered, and now I 
 only ask of you to save your own noble honor, and do your 
 duty as man and king." 
 
 These were bold words, but I did not care one little 
 farthing whether they pleased him or not. The king 
 stared at me and said: 
 
" I RODE UP TO THE KING AND 
 VHTH UNCOVERED HEAD 
 AIM-JPFSSF.n HIM . ." 
 
JUSTICE, O KING! 143 
 
 "Caskoden, you are a perfect fiste at my heels. But 
 you are right ; I had forgotten my errand. You disturbed 
 my dinner, and my stomach called loudly for one of Mis 
 tress Cornwallis s puddings ; but you are right to stick to 
 me. What a friend you are in case of need. Would I 
 had one like you." 
 
 "Your majesty has two of whom I know; one riding 
 humbly by your royal side, and the other lying in the worst 
 dungeon in Christendom." 
 
 W r ith this the king wheeled about and started west to 
 ward Guildhall. 
 
 Oh, how I hated Henry for that cold blooded, selfish 
 forgetfulness worse than crime; and how I hoped the 
 Blessed Virgin would forget him in time to come, and 
 leave his soul an extra thousand years in purging flames, 
 just to show him how it goes to be forgotten in hell. 
 
 To the lord mayor we accordingly went without further 
 delay. He was only too glad to liberate Brandon when 
 he heard my story, which the king had ordered me to re 
 peat. The only hesitancy was from a doubt of its truth. 
 
 The lord mayor was kind enough to say that he felt lit 
 tle doubt of my word, but that friendship would often 
 drive a man to any extremity, even falsehood, to save a 
 friend. 
 
 Then I offered to go into custody myself and pay the 
 penalty, death, for helping a convicted felon to escape, if 
 I told not the truth, to be confirmed or denied by the 
 princess and her first lady in waiting. I knew Jane and 
 was willing to risk her truthfulness without a doubt it 
 was so pronounced as to be troublesome at times and as 
 to Mary well, I had no doubt of her either. If she 
 would but stop to think out the right she was sure to do it. 
 
 I have often wondered how much of the general fund of 
 
144 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 *vil in this world comes from thoughtlessness. Cultivate 
 thought and you make virtue I believe. But this is no 
 time to philosophize. 
 
 My offer was satisfactory, for what more can a man do 
 than pledge his life for his friend ? We have scripture for 
 that, or something like it. 
 
 The lord mayor did not require my proffered pledge, 
 but readily consented that the king should write an order 
 for Brandon s pardon and release. This was done at 
 once, and we, that is, I, together with a sheriff s sergeant 
 and his four yeomen, hastened to Newgate, while Henry 
 went over to Wolsey s to settle Mary s fate. 
 
 Brandon was brought up with chains and manacles at 
 his ankles and wrists. When he entered the room and 
 saw me, he exclaimed : "Ah ! Caskoden, is that you ? I 
 thought they had brought me up to hang me, and was glad 
 for the change ; but I suppose you would not come to help 
 at that, even if you have left me here to rot; God only 
 knows how long; I have forgotten." 
 
 I could not restrain the tears at sight of him. 
 
 "Your w r ords are more than just," I said; and, being 
 anxious that he should know at once that my fault had 
 not been so great as it looked, continued hurriedly : "The 
 king sent me to France upon an hour s notice, the day 
 after your arrest. I know only too well I should not have 
 gone without seeing you out of this, but you had enjoined 
 silence upon me, and and I trusted to the promises of 
 another." 
 
 "I thought as much. You are in no way to blame, my 
 friend ; all I ask is that you never mention the subject 
 again." 
 
 "My friend !" Ah ! the words were dear to me as 
 words of love from a sweetheart s lips. 
 
JUSTICE, O KING! 45 
 
 I hardly recognized him, he was so frightfully covered 
 >yith filth and dirt and creeping things. His hair and 
 beard were unkempt and matted, and his eyes and cheeks 
 were lusterless and sunken; but I will describe him no 
 further. Suffering had well-nigh done its work, and noth 
 ing but the hardihood gathered in his years of camp life 
 and war could have saved him from death. I bathed and 
 reclothed him as well as I could at Newgate, and then took 
 him home to Greenwich in a horse litter, where my man 
 and I thoroughly washed, dressed and sheared the poor 
 fellow and put him to bed. 
 
 "Ah ! this bed is a foretaste of paradise," he said, as he 
 lay upon the mattress. 
 
 It was a pitiful sight, and I could hardly refrain from 
 tears. I sent my man to fetch a certain Moor, a learned 
 scholar, though a hated foreigner, who lived just off 
 Cheap and sold small arms, and very soon he was with us. 
 Brandon and I both knew him well, and admired his learn 
 ing and gentleness, and loved him for his sweet philosophy 
 of life, the leaven of which was charity a modest little 
 plant too often overshadowed by the rank growth of pomp 
 ous dogmatism. 
 
 The Moor was learned in the healing potions of the east, 
 and insisted, privately, of course, that all the shrines and 
 relics in Christendom put together could not cure an ache 
 in a baby s little finger. This, perhaps, was going too 
 far, for there are some relics that have undoubted potency, 
 but in cases where human agency can cure, the people of 
 the east are unquestionably far in advance of us in knowl 
 edge of remedies. The Moor at once gave Brandon a 
 soothing drink, which soon put him into a sweet sleep. 
 He then bathed him as he slept, with some strengthening 
 lotion, made certain learned signs, and spoke a few cabalis- 
 10 
 
WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 tic words, and, sure enough, so strong were the healing 
 remedies and incantations that the next morning Brandon 
 was another man, though very far from well and strong. 
 The Moor recommended nutritious food, such as roast 
 beef and generous wine, and, although this advice was 
 contrary to the general belief, which is, with apparent rea 
 son, that the evil spirit of disease should be starved and 
 driven out, yet so great was our faith in him that we fol 
 lowed his directions, and in a few days Brandon had al 
 most regained his old-time strength. 
 
 I will ask you to go back with me for a moment. 
 
 During the week, between Brandon s interview with 
 Mary in the ante-room of the king s bed-chamber and the 
 tragedy at Billingsgate, he and I had many conversations 
 about the extraordinary situation in which he found him 
 self. 
 
 At one time, I remember, he said : "I was safe enough 
 before that afternoon. I believe I could have gone away 
 and forgotten her eventually, but our mutual avowal seems 
 to have dazed me and paralyzed every power for effort. I 
 sometimes feel helpless, and, although I have succeeded 
 in keeping away from her since then, often find myself 
 wavering in my determination to leave England. That 
 was what I feared if I allowed the matter to go to the point 
 of being sure of her love. I only wanted it before, and 
 very easily made myself believe it was impossible, and not 
 for me. But now that I know she loves me it is like hold 
 ing my breath to live without her. I feel every instant 
 that I can hold it no longer. I know only too well that 
 if I but see her face once more I shall breathe. She is the 
 very breath of life for me. She is mine by the gift of God. 
 Curses upon those who keep us apart." Then musingly 
 and half interrogatively: "She certainly does love me, 
 
JUSTICE, O KING! 147 
 
 She could not have treated me as she did unless her love 
 was so strong that she could not resist it." 
 
 "Let no doubt of that trouble you," I answered. "A 
 woman like Mary can not treat two men as she treated 
 you. Many a woman may love, or think she loves many 
 times, but there is only one man who receives the full 
 measure of her best. Other women, again, have nothing 
 to give but their best, and when they have once given 
 that, they have given all. Unless I have known her in 
 vain, Mary, with all her faults, is such a woman. Again 
 I say, let no doubt of that trouble you." 
 
 Brandon answered with a sad little smile from the midst 
 of his reverie. "It is really not so much the doubt as the 
 certainty of it that troubles me." Then, starting to his 
 feet: "If I thought she had lied to me; if I thought she 
 could wantonly lead me on to suffer so for her, I would 
 kill her, so help me God." 
 
 "Do not think that. Whatever her faults, and she has 
 enough, there is no man on earth for her but you. Her 
 love has come to her through a struggle against it because 
 it was her master. That is the strongest and best, in fact 
 the only, love; worth all the self-made passions in the 
 world." 
 
 "Yes, I believe it. I know she has faults; even my 
 partiality can not blind me to them, but she is as pure and 
 chaste as a child, and as gentle, strong and true as as a 
 woman. I can put it no stronger. She has these, her re 
 deeming virtues, along with her beauty, from her plebeian 
 grandmother, Elizabeth Woodville, who, with them, won 
 a royal husband and elevated herself to the throne beside 
 the chivalrous Edward. This sweet plebeian heritage 
 bubbles up in the heart of Mary, and will not down, but 
 neutralizes the royal poison in her veins and makes a god- 
 
148 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 \ dess of her." Then with a sigh : "But if her faults were 
 a thousand times as many, and if each fault were a thou 
 sand times as great, her beauty would atone for all. Such 
 beauty as hers can afford to have faults. Look at Helen 
 and Cleopatra, and Agnes Sorel. Did their faults make 
 | them less attractive ? Beauty covereth more sins than 
 1 charity and maketh more grief than pestilence." 
 The last clause was evidently an afterthought. 
 After his month in Newgate with the hangman s noose 
 about his neck all because of Mary s cruel neglect, I won 
 dered if her beauty would so easily atone for her faults. I 
 may as well tell you that he changed his mind concerning 
 this particular doctrine of atonement 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 LOUIS XII A SUITOR 
 
 As soon as I could leave Brandon, I had intended to go 
 down to Windsor and give vent to my indignation toward 
 the girls, but the more I thought about it, the surer I felt 
 there had, somehow, been a mistake. I could not bring 
 myself to believe that Mary had deliberately permitted 
 matters to go to such an extreme when it was in her 
 power to prevent it. She might have neglected her Huty 
 for a day or two, but, sooner or later, her good impulses 
 always came to her rescue, and, with Jane by her side to 
 urge her on, I was almost sure she would have liberated 
 Brandon long ago barring a blunder of some sort. 
 
 So I did not go to Windsor until a week after Bran 
 don s release, when the king asked me to go down with 
 him, Wolsey and de Longueville, the French ambassador- 
 special, for the purpose of officially offering to Mary the 
 hand of Louis XII, and the honor of becoming queen of 
 France. 
 
 The princess had known of the projected arrangement 
 for many weeks, but had no thought of the present for 
 ward condition of affairs, or she would have brought her 
 energies to bear upon Henry long before. She could not 
 bring herself to believe that her brother would really force 
 her into such wretchedness, and possibly he would never 
 have done so, as much as he desired it from the standpoint 
 of personal ambition, had it not been for the petty excuse 
 of that fatal trip to Grouche s. 
 
 049) 
 
150 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 All the circumstances of the case were such as to make 
 Mary s marriage a veritable virgin sacrifice. Louis was 
 an old man, and an old Frenchman at that ; full of French 
 notions of morality and immorality; and besides, there 
 were objections that can not be written, but of which 
 Henry and Mary had been fully informed. She might as 
 well marry a leper. Do you wonder she was full of dread 
 and fear, and resisted with the desperation of death ? 
 
 So Mary, the person most interested, was about the last 
 to learn that the treaty had been signed. 
 
 Windsor was nearly eight leagues from London, and at 
 that time was occupied only by the girls and a few old 
 ladies and servants, so that news did not travel fast in that 
 direction from the city. It is also probable that, even if 
 report of the treaty and Brandon s release had reached 
 Windsor, the persons hearing it would have hesitated to 
 repeat it to Mary. However that may be, she had no 
 knowledge of either until she was informed of the fact that 
 the king and the French ambassador would be at Windsor 
 on a certain day to make the formal request for her hand 
 and offer the gifts of King Louis. 
 
 I had no doubt Mary was in trouble, and felt sure she 
 had been making affairs lively about her. I knew her 
 suffering was keen, but was glad of it in view of her treat 
 ment of Brandon. 
 
 A day or two after Brandon s liberation I had begun to 
 speak to him of the girls, but he interrupted me with a 
 frightful oath : "Caskoden, you are my friend, but if you 
 ever mention their names again in my hearing you are my 
 friend no longer. I will curse you." 
 
 I was frightened, so much stronger did his nature show 
 than mine, and took good care to remain silent on that sub- 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR 151 
 
 ject until but I am going too fast again ; I will tell you 
 of that hereafter. 
 
 Upon the morning appointed, the king, Wolsey, de 
 Longueville and myself, with a small retinue, rode over 
 to Windsor, where we found that Mary, anticipating us, 
 had barricaded herself in her bedroom and refused to re 
 ceive the announcement. The king went up stairs to coax 
 at the fair young besieged through two inches of oak door, 
 and to induce her, if possible, to come down. We below 
 could plainly hear the king pleading in the voice of a Bash- 
 an bull, and it afforded us some amusement behind our 
 hands. Then his majesty grew angry and threatened to 
 break down the door, but the fair besieged maintained a 
 most persistent and provoking silence throughout it all, 
 and allowed him to carry out his threat without so much 
 as a whimper. He was thoroughly angry, and called to 
 us to come up to see him "compel obedience from the self- 
 willed hussy," a task the magnitude of which he under 
 rated. 
 
 The door was soon broken down, and the king walked 
 in first, with de Longueville and Wolsey next, and the 
 rest of us following in close procession. But we marched 
 over broken walls to the most laughable defeat ever suf 
 fered by besieging army. Our foe, though small, was al 
 together too fertile in expedients for us. There seemed 
 no way to conquer this girl; her resources were so in 
 exhaustible that in the moment of your expected victory 
 success was turned into defeat ; nay, more, ridiculous dis 
 aster. 
 
 We found Jane crouching on the floor in a corner half 
 dead with fright from the noise and tumult and where do 
 you think we found her mistress? Frightened? Not at 
 all ; she was lying in bed with her face to the wall as cool 
 
152 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 as a January morning ; her clothing in a little heap in the 
 middle of the room. 
 
 Without turning her head, she exclaimed : "Come in, 
 brother ; you are quite welcome. Bring in your friends ; 
 I am ready to receive them, though not in court attire, as 
 you see." And she thrust her bare arm straight up from 
 the bed to prove her words. You should have seen the 
 Frenchman s little black eyes gloat on its beauty. 
 
 Mary went on, still looking toward the wall: "I will 
 arise and receive you all informally, if you will but wait." 
 
 This disconcerted the imperturbable Henry, who was 
 about at his wit s end. 
 
 "Cover that arm, you hussy," he cried in a flaming rage. 
 
 "Be not impatient, brother mine! I will jump out in 
 just a moment." 
 
 A little scream from Jane startled everybody, and she 
 quickly ran up to the king, saying: "I beg your majesty 
 to go. She will do as she says so sure as you remain ; you 
 don t know her; she is very angry. Please go; I will 
 bring her down stairs somehow." 
 
 "Ah, indeed ! Jane Bolingbroke," came from the bed. 
 "I will receive my guests myself when they are kind 
 enough to come to my room." The coverlid began to 
 move, and, whether or not she was really going to carry 
 out her threat, I can not say, but Henry, knowing her too 
 well to risk it, hurried us all out of the room and marched 
 down stairs at the head of his defeated cohorts. He was 
 swearing in a way to make a priest s flesh creep, and pro 
 testing by everything holy that Mary should be the wife of 
 Louis or die. He went back to Mary s room at intervals, 
 but there was enough persistence in that one girl to stop 
 the wheels of time, if she but set herself to do it, and the 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR 153 
 
 king came away from each visit the victim of another 
 rout. 
 
 Finally his anger cooled and he became amused. From 
 the last visit he came down laughing : 
 
 "I shall have to give up the fight or else put my armor 
 on with visor down," said he ; "it is not safe to go near 
 her without it ; she is a very vixen, and but now tried to 
 scratch my eyes out." 
 
 Wolsey, who had a wonderful knack for finding the eas 
 iest means to a difficult end, took Henry off to a window 
 where they held a whispered conversation. 
 
 It was pathetic to see a mighty king and his great min 
 ister of state consulting and planning against one poor 
 girl ; and, as angry as I felt toward Alary, I could not help 
 pitying her, and admired, beyond the power of pen to 
 write, the valiant and so far impregnable defense she had 
 put up against an array of strength that would have made 
 a king tremble on his throne. 
 
 Presently Henry gave one of his loud laughs, and 
 slapped his thigh as if highly satisfied with some proposi 
 tion of Wolsey s. 
 
 "Make ready at once," he said. "We will go back to 
 London." 
 
 In a short time we were all at the main stairway ready 
 to mount for the return trip. 
 
 The Lady Mary s window was just above, and I sa\v 
 Jane watching us as we rode away. 
 
 After we were well out of Mary s sight the king called 
 me to him, and he, together with de Longueville, Wolsey 
 and myself, turned our horses heads, rode rapidly by a 
 circuitous path back to another door of the castle and re- 
 entered without the knowledge of any of the inmates. 
 
 We four remained in silence, enjoined by the king, and 
 
154 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 in the course of an hour, the princess, supposing every one 
 had gone, came down stairs and walked into the room 
 where we were waiting. 
 
 It was a scurvy trick, and I felt a contempt for the men 
 who had planned it. I could see that Mary s first impulse 
 was to beat a hasty retreat back into her citadel, the bed, 
 but in truth she had in her make-up very little disposition 
 to retreat. She was clear grit. What a man she would 
 have made ! But what a crime it would have been in na 
 ture to have spoiled so perfect a woman. How beautiful 
 she was! She threw one quick, surprised glance at her 
 brother and his companions, and lifting up her exquisite 
 head carelessly hummed a little tune under her breath as 
 she marched to the other end of the room with a gait that 
 Juno herself could not have improved upon. 
 
 I saw the king smile, half in pride of her, and half in 
 amusement, and the Frenchman s little eyes feasted upon 
 her beauty with a relish that could not be mistaken. 
 
 Henry and the ambassador spoke a word in whispers, 
 when the latter took a box from a huge side pocket and 
 started across the room toward Mary with the king at his 
 heels. 
 
 Her side was toward them when they came up, but she 
 kept her attitude as if she had been of bronze. She had 
 taken up a book that was lying on the table and was exam 
 ining it as they approached. 
 
 De Longueville held the box in his hand, and bowing 
 and scraping said in broken English : "Permit to me, most 
 gracious princess, that I may have the honor to offer on 
 behalf of my august master, this little testament of his 
 high admiration and love." With this he bowed again, 
 smiled like a crack in a piece of old parchment, and held 
 his box toward Mary. It was open, probably in the hope 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR S55 
 
 of enticing her with a sight of its contents a beautiful 
 diamond necklace. 
 
 She turned her face ever so little and took it all in with 
 one contemptuous, sneering glance out of the corners of 
 her eyes. Then quietly reaching out her hand she grasped 
 the necklace and deliberately dashed it in poor old de 
 Longueville s face. 
 
 "There is my answer, sir! Go home and tell your 
 imbecile old master I scorn his suit and hate him hate 
 him hate him !" Then with the tears falling unheeded 
 down her cheeks, "Master Wolsey, thou butcher s cur! 
 This trick was of your conception; the others had not 
 brains enough to think of it. Are you not proud to have 
 outwitted one poor heart-broken girl? But beware, sir; 
 I tell you now I will be quits with you yet, or my name is | 
 not Mary." 
 
 There is a limit to the best of feminine nerve, and at 
 that limit should always be found a flood of healthful tears. 
 Mary had reached it when she threw the necklace and shot 
 her bolt at Wolsey, so she broke down and hastily left the 
 room. 
 
 The king, of course, was beside himself with rage. 
 
 "By God s soul," he swore, "she shall marry Louis of ) 
 France, or I will have her whipped to death on the Smith- | 
 field pillory." And in his wicked heart so impervious ; 
 to a single lasting good impulse he really meant it. 
 
 Immediately after this, the king, de Longueville and 
 Wolsey set out for London. 
 
 I remained behind hoping to see the girls, and after a 
 short time a page plucked me by the sleeve, saying the 
 princess wished to see me. 
 
 The page conducted me to the same room in which had 
 been fought the battle with Mary in bed The door had 
 
156 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 been placed on its hinges again, but the bed was tumbled 
 as Mary had left it, and the room was in great disorder. 
 
 "Oh, Sir Edwin," began Mary, who was weeping, 
 "was ever woman in such frightful trouble? My brother 
 is killing me. Can he not see that I could not live through 
 a week of this marriage? And I have been deserted by 
 all my friends, too, excepting Jane. She, poor thing, can 
 not leave." 
 
 "You know I would not go," said Jane, parentheti 
 cally. Mary continued : "You, too, have been home an 
 entire week and have not been near me." 
 
 I began to soften at the sight of her grief, and con 
 cluded, with Brandon, that, after all, her beauty could well 
 cover a multitude of sins; perhaps even this, her great 
 transgression against him. 
 
 The princess was trying to check her weeping, and in a 
 moment took up the thread of her unfinished sentence: 
 "And Master Brandon, too, left without so much as send 
 ing me one little word not a line nor syllable. He did 
 not come near me, but w r ent off as if I did not care or he 
 did not. Of course he did not care, or he would not have 
 behaved so, knowing I was in so much trouble. I did not 
 see him at all after one afternoon in the king s about a 
 week before that awful night in London, except that night, 
 when I was so frightened I could not speak one word of 
 all the things I wished to say." 
 
 This sounded strange enough, and I began more than 
 ever to suspect something wrong. I, however, kept as 
 firm a grasp as possible upon the stock of indignation I 
 had brought with me. 
 
 "How did you expect to see or hear from him," asked 
 I, "when he was lying in a loathsome dungeon without 
 one ray of light, condemned to be hanged, drawn and 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR 137 
 
 quartered, because of your selfish neglect to save him who, 
 at the cost of half his blood, and almost, his life, had saved 
 so much for you? * 
 
 Her eyes grew big, and the tears were checked by gen 
 uine surprise. 
 
 I continued: "Lady Mary, no one could have made 
 me believe that you would stand back and let the man, to 
 whom you owed so great a debt, lie so long in such mis 
 ery, and be condemned to such a death for the act that 
 saved you. I could never have believed it !" 
 
 "Imp of hell !" screamed Mary ; "what tale is this you 
 bring to torture me? Have I not enough already? Tell 
 me it is a lie, or I will have your miserable little tongue 
 torn out by the root." 
 
 "It is no lie, princess, but an awful truth, and a fright 
 ful shame to you." 
 
 I was determined to tell her all and let her see herself as 
 she was. 
 
 She gave a hysterical laugh, and throwing up her 
 hands, with her accustomed little gesture, fell upon the 
 bed in utter abandonment, shaking as with a spasm, She 
 did not weep ; she could not ; she was past that now-, Jane 
 went over to the bed and tried to soothe her. 
 
 In a moment Maty sprang to her feet, exclaiming: 
 "Master Brandon condemned to death and you and I 
 here talking and moaning and weeping? Come, come, we 
 will go to the king at once. We will start to walk, Edwin 
 I must be doing something and Jane can follow with 
 the horses and overtake us. No ; I will not dress ; just 
 as I am ; this will do. Bring me a hat, Jane ; any one, 
 any one." While putting on hat and gloves she contin 
 ued: "I will see the king at once and tell him all! all! 
 1 will do anything ; I will marry that old kins of France, 
 
158 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 or forty kings, or forty devils; it s all one to me; any 
 thing! anything! to save him. Oh! to think that he has 
 been in that dungeon all this time." And the tears came 
 unheeded in a deluge. 
 
 She was under such headway, and spoke and moved so 
 rapidly, that I could not stop her until she was nearly 
 ready to go. Then I held her by the arm while I said: 
 
 "It is not necessary now; you are too late." 
 
 A look of horror came into her face, and I continued 
 slowly: "I procured Brandon s release nearly a week 
 ago; I did what you should have done, and he is now at 
 our rooms in Greenwich." 
 
 Mary looked at me a moment, and, turning pale, pressed 
 her hands to her heart and leaned against the door frame. 
 
 After a short silence she said: " Edwin Caskoden 
 fool ! Why could you not have told me that at first ? I 
 thought my brain would burn and my heart burst." 
 
 "I should have told you had you given me time. As 
 to the pain it gave you" this was the last charge of my 
 large magazine of indignation "I care very little about 
 that. You deserve it. I do not know what explanation 
 you have to offer, but nothing can excuse you. An expla 
 nation, however good, would have been little comfort to 
 you had Brandon failed you in Billingsgate that night." 
 
 She had fallen into a chair by this time and sat in rev 
 erie, staring at nothing. Then the tears came again, but 
 more softly. 
 
 "You are right; nothing can excuse me. I am the most 
 selfish, ungrateful, guilty creature ever born. A whole 
 month in that dungeon!" And she covered her drooping 
 face with her hands. 
 
 "Go away for awhile, Edwin, and then return; we shall 
 want to see you again," said Jane. 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR 159 
 
 Upon my return Mary was more composed. Jane had 
 dressed her hair, and she was sitting on the bed in her rid 
 ing habit, hat in hand. Her fingers were nervously toy 
 ing at the ribbons and her eyes cast down. 
 
 "You are surely right, Sir Edwin. I have no excuse. 
 I can have none ; but I will tell you how it was. You re 
 member the day you left me in the waiting-room of the 
 king s council ? when they were discussing my marriage 
 without one thought of me, as if I were but a slave or a 
 dumb brute that could not feel." She began to weep a 
 little, but soon recovered herself. "While waiting for 
 you to return, the Duke of Buckingham came in. I knew 
 Henry was trying to sell me to the French king, and my 
 heart was full of trouble from more causes than you can 
 know. All the council, especially that butcher s son, were 
 urging him on, and Henry himself was anxious that the 
 marriage should be brought about. He thought it would 
 strengthen him for the imperial crown. He wants every 
 thing, and is ambitious to be emperor. Emperor! He 
 would cut a pretty figure ! I hoped, though, I should be 
 able to induce him not to sacrifice me to his selfish inter 
 ests, as I have done before, but I knew only too well it 
 would tax my powers to the utmost this time. I knew 
 that if I did anything to anger or antagonize him, it would 
 be all at an end with me. You know he is so exacting 
 with other people s conduct, for one who is so careless 
 of his own so virtuous by proxy. You remember how 
 cruelly he disgraced and crushed poor Lady Chesterfield, 
 who was in such trouble about her husband, and who 
 went to Grouche s only to learn if he were true to her. 
 Henry seems to be particularly sensitive in that direction. 
 One would think it was in the commandments: Thou 
 shalt not go to Grouche s/* It may be that some have gone 
 
l6b WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 there for other purposes than to have their fortunes told 
 to meet, to but I need not say that I " and she stopped 
 short, blushing to her hair. 
 
 "Well, I knew I could do nothing with Henry if he 
 once learned of that visit, especially as it resulted so 
 fatally, Oh ! why did I go ? Why did I go? That was 
 why I hesitated to tell Henry at once. I was hoping some 
 other way would open whereby I might save Charles 
 Master Brandon. While I was waiting, along came the 
 Duke of Buckingham, and as I knew he was popular in 
 London, and had almost as much influence there as the 
 king, a thought came to me that he might help us. 
 
 "I knew that he and Master Brandon had passed a few 
 angry words at one time in my ball-room you remember 
 but I also knew that the duke was in in love with me, 
 you know, or pretended to be he always said he was 
 and I felt sure I could, by a little flattery, induce him to 
 do anything. He was always protesting that he would 
 give half his blood to serve me. As if anybody wanted 
 a drop of his wretched blood. Poor Master Brandon ! his 
 blood...." and the tears came, choking her words for 
 the moment. "So I told the duke I had promised you 
 and Jane to procure Master Brandon s liberty, and asked 
 him to do it for me. He gladly consented, and gave me 
 his knightly word that it should be attended to without 
 an hour s delay. He said it might have to be done 
 secretly in the way of an escape not officially as the 
 Londoners were very jealous of their rights and much 
 aroused on account of the killing. Especially, he said that 
 at that time great caution must be used, as the king was 
 anxious to conciliate the city in order to procure a loan for 
 some purpose my dower, I suppose. 
 
 "The duke said it should be as I wished ; that Master 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR l6l 
 
 Brandon should escape, and remain away from London 
 for a few weeks until the king procured his loan, and then 
 be freed by royal proclamation. 
 
 "I saw Buckingham the next day, for I was very anx 
 ious, you may be sure, and he said the keeper of New 
 gate had told him it had been arranged the night before 
 as desired. I had come to Windsor because it was more 
 quiet, and my heart was full. It is quite a distance from 
 London, and I thought it might afford a better oppor 
 tunity to to see I thought, perhaps Master Brandon 
 might come might want to to see Jane and me; in 
 fact I wrote him before I left Greenwich that I w r ould be 
 here. Then I heard he had gone to New Spain. Now 7 you 
 see how r all my troubles have come upon me at once ; and 
 this the greatest of them, because it is my fault. I can ask 
 no forgiveness from any one, for I can not forgive my 
 self." 
 
 She then inquired about Brandon s health and spirits, 
 and I left out no distressing detail you may be sure. 
 
 During my recital she sat with downcast eyes and tear- 
 stained face, playing with the ribbons of her hat. 
 
 When I was ready to go she said: "Please say to 
 Master Brandon I should like to see him, if he cares 
 to come, if only that I may tell him how it happened." 
 
 "I greatly fear, in fact, I know he will not come," said 
 I. "The cruelest blow of all, worse even than the dun 
 geon, or the sentence of death, was your failure to save 
 him. He trusted you so implicitly At the time of his 
 arrest he refused to allow me to tell the king, saying he 
 knew you would see to it that you were pure gold." 
 
 "Ah, did he say that?" she asked, as a sad little smile 
 lighted her face. 
 
 "His faith was so entirely without doubt, that his recoil 
 11 
 
162 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 from you is correspondingly great. He goes to New 
 Spain as soon as his health is recovered sufficiently for him 
 to travel." 
 
 This sent the last fleck of color from her face, and with 
 the words almost choking her throat : "Then tell him 
 what I have said to you and perhaps he will not feel so " 
 
 "I can not do that either, Lady Mary. When I men 
 tioned your name the other day he said he would curse 
 me if I ever spoke it again in his hearing." 
 
 "Is it so bad as that?" Then, meditatively: "And 
 at his trial he did not tell the reason for the killing ? Would 
 not compromise me, who had served him so ill, even to 
 save his own life? Noble, noble!" And her lips went 
 together as she rose to her feet. No tears now ; nothing 
 but glowing, determined womanhood. 
 
 "Then I will go to him wherever he may be. He shall 
 forgive me, no matter what my fault." 
 
 Soon after this we were on our way to London at a 
 brisk gallop. 
 
 We were all very silent, but at one time Mary spoke 
 up from the midst of a reverie: "During the moment 
 when I thought Master Brandon had been executed 
 when you said it was too late it seemed that I was born 
 again and all made over ; that I was changed in the very 
 texture of my nature by the shock, as they say the grain 
 of the iron cannon is sometimes changed by too violent an 
 explosion." And this proved to be true in some respects. 
 
 We rode on rapidly and did not stop in London except 
 to give the horses drink. 
 
 After crossing the bridge, Mary said, half to Jane and 
 half to herself: "I will never marry the French king 
 never." Mary was but a girl pitted against a body of 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR 163 
 
 brutal men, two of them rulers of the two greatest nations 
 on earth rather heavy odds, for one woman. 
 
 \Ye rode down to Greenwich and entered the palace 
 without exciting comment, as the princess was in the habit 
 of going and coming at will. 
 
 The king and queen and most of the courtiers were in 
 London at Bridewell and Barnard Castle where Henry 
 was vigorously pushing the loan of five hundred thousand 
 crowns for Mary s dower, the only business of state in 
 which, at that time, he took any active interest. Subse 
 quently, as you know, he became interested in the divorce 
 laws, and the various methods whereby a man, especially 
 a king, might rid himself of a distasteful wife ; and after 
 he saw the truth in Anne Boleyn s eyes, he adopted a com 
 bined policy of church and state craft that has brought us 
 a deal of senseless trouble evei since and is like to keep 
 it up. 
 
 As to Mary s dower, Henry was to pay Louis only four 
 hundred thousand crowns, but he made the marriage an 
 excuse for an extra hundred thousand, to be devoted to his 
 own private use. 
 
 "\Yhen we arrived at the palace, the girls went to their 
 apartments and I to mine, where I found Brandon read 
 ing. There was only one window to our common room 
 - a dormer-window, set into the roof, and reached by a 
 little passage as broad as the window itself, and perhaps 
 a yard and a half long. In the alcove thus formed was a 
 bench along the wall, cushioned by Brandon s great cam 
 paign cloak. In this window we often sat and read, and 
 here was Brandon with his book. I had intended to tell 
 him the girls were coming, for when Mary asked me if I 
 thought he would come to her at the palace, and when 
 I had again said no, she reiterated her intention of going 
 
164 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 to him at once ; but my courage failed me and I did not 
 speak of it. 
 
 I knew that Mary ought not to come to our room, and 
 that if news of it should reach the king s ears there would 
 be more and worse trouble than ever, and, as usual, Bran 
 don would pay the penalty for all. Then again, if it were 
 discovered it might seriously compromise both Mary and 
 Jane, as the world is full of people who would rather say 
 and believe an evil thing of another than to say their 
 prayers or believe the holy creed. 
 
 I had said as much to the Lady Mary when she ex 
 pressed her determination to go to Brandon. She had 
 been in the wrong so much of late that she was humbled, 
 and I was brave enough to say whatever I felt; but she 
 said she had thought it all over, and as every one was away 
 from Greenwich it would not be found out if done secretly. 
 
 She told Jane she need not go; that she, Mary, did 
 not want to take any risk of compromising her. 
 
 You see, trouble was doing a good work in the princess, 
 and had made it possible for a generous thought for an 
 other to find spontaneous lodgment in her heart. What a 
 great thing it is, this human suffering, which so sensitizes 
 Our sympathy, and makes us tender to another s pain. 
 Nothing else so fits us for earth or prepares us for heaven. 
 
 Jane would have gone, though, had she known that all 
 her fair name would go with her. She was right, you see, 
 when she told me, while riding over to Windsor, that 
 should Mary s love blossom into a full-blown passion she 
 would wreck everything and everybody, including herself 
 perhaps, to attain the object of so great a desire. 
 
 It looked now as if she were on the high road to that 
 end. Nothing short of chains and fetters could have kept 
 her from going to Brandon that evening. There was an 
 
LOUIS XII A SUITOR 165 
 
 inherent force about her that was irresistible and swept 
 everything before it. 
 
 In our garret she was to meet another will, stronger 
 and infinitely better controlled than her own, and I did not 
 know how it would all turn out. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 ATONEMENT 
 
 I had not been long in the room when a knock at the 
 door announced the girls. I admitted them, and Mary 
 walked to the middle of the floor. It was just growing 
 dark and the room was quite dim, save at the window 
 I where Brandon sat reading. Gods! those were exciting 
 \ moments ; my heart beat like a woman s. Brandon saw 
 the girls when they entered, but never so much as looked 
 up from his book. You must remember he had a great 
 grievance. Even looking at it from Mary s side of the 
 case, certainly its best point of view, he had been terribly 
 misused , and it was all the worse that the misuse had come 
 from one who, from his standpoint, had pretended to love 
 him, and had wantonly led him on, as he had the best of 
 right to think, to love her, and to suffer the keenest pangs 
 a heart can know. Then you must remember he did not 
 know even the best side of the matter, bad as it was, but 
 saw only the naked fact, that in recompense for his great 
 help in time of need, Mary had deliberately allowed him to 
 lie in that dungeon a long, miserable month, and would 
 have suffered him to die. So it was no wonder his heart 
 was filled with bitterness toward her. Jane and I had re 
 mained near the door, and poor Mary was a pitiable prin 
 cess, standing there so full of doubt in the middle of the 
 room. After a moment she stepped toward the window, 
 and, with quick-coming breath, stopped at the threshold 
 of the little passage, 
 
 (166) 
 
ATONEMENT 167 
 
 "Master Brandon, I have come, not to make excuses, 
 for nothing can excuse me, but to tell you how it all hap 
 pened by trusting to another." 
 
 Brandon arose, and marking the place in his book with 
 his finger, followed Mary, who had stepped backward into 
 the room. 
 
 "Your highness is very gracious and kind thus to honor 
 me, but as our ways will hereafter lie as far apart as the 
 world is broad, I think it would have been far better had 
 you refrained from so imprudent a visit ; especially as any 
 thing one so exalted as yourself may have to say can be 
 no affair of such as I one. just free of the hangman s 
 noose." 
 
 "Oh ! don t ! I pray you. Let me tell you, and it may 
 make a difference. It must pain you, I know, to think of 
 me as you do, after after you know ; after what has 
 passed between us." 
 
 "Yes, that only makes it all the harder. If you could 
 give your kisses " and she blushed red as blood "to 
 one for whom you care so little that you could leave him 
 to die like a dog, when a word from you would have saved 
 him, what reason have I to suppose they are not for every 
 man?" 
 
 This gave Mary an opening of which she was quick 
 enough to take advantage, for Brandon was in the wrong. 
 
 " You know that is not true. You are not honest with 
 me nor with yourself, and that is not like you. You know 
 that no other man ever had, or could have, any favor from 
 me, even the slightest. Wantonness is not among my 
 thousand faults. It is not that which angers you. You 
 are sure enough of me in that respect. In truth, I had 
 almost come to believe you were too sure, that I had grown 
 cheap in your eyes, and you did not care so much as I 
 
168 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 thought and hoped for what I had to give, for after that 
 day you came not near me at all. I know it was the part 
 of wisdom and prudence that you should remain away; 
 but had you cared as much as I, your prudence would not 
 have held you." 
 
 She hung her head a moment in silence ; then, looking 
 at him, almost ready for tears, continued : "A man has no 
 right to speak in that way of a woman whose little favors 
 he has taken, and make her regret that she has given a 
 gift only that it may recoil upon her. Little/ did I say ? 
 Sir, do you know what that first kiss was to me ? Had 
 I possessed all the crowns of all the earth I would have 
 given them to you as willingly. Now you know the value 
 I placed on it, however worthless it was to you. Yet I 
 was a cheerful giver of that great gift, was I not ? And 
 can you find it in your heart to make of it a shame to me 
 that of which I was so proud?" 
 
 She stood there with head inclined a little to one side, 
 looking at him inquiringly as if awaiting an answer. He 
 did not speak, but looked steadily at his book. I felt, 
 however, that he was changing, and was sure her beauty, 
 never more exquisite than in its present humility, would 
 yet atone for even so great a fault as hers. Err, look 
 beautiful, and receive remission ! Such a woman as Mary 
 carries her indulgence in her face. 
 
 I now began to realize for the first time the wondrous 
 power oi this girl, and ceased to marvel that she had 
 always been able to turn even the king, the most violent, 
 stubborn man on earth, to her own wishes. Her manner 
 made her words eloquent, and already, with true feminine 
 tactics, she had put Brandon in the wrong in everything 
 because he was wrong in part. 
 
 Then she quickly went over what she had said to me. 
 
ATONEMENT 169 
 
 She told of her great dread lest the king should learn of 
 the visit to Grouche s and its fatal consequences, know 
 ing full well it would render Henry impervious to her in 
 fluence and precipitate the French marriage. She told 
 him of how she was going to the king the day after the 
 arrest to ask his release, and of the meeting with Bucking 
 ham, and his promise. 
 
 Still Brandon said nothing, and stood as if politely wait 
 ing for her to withdraw. 
 
 She remained silent a little time, waiting for him to 
 speak, when tears, partly of vexation, I think, moistened 
 her eyes. 
 
 "Tell me at least," she said "that you know I speak the 
 truth. I have always believed in you, and now ask for 
 your faith. I would not lie to you in the faintest shading 
 of a thought not for heaven itself not even for your 
 love and forgiveness, as much as they are to me, and I 
 want to know that you are sure of my truthfulness, if you 
 doubt all else. You see I speak plainly of what your love 
 is to me, for although, by remaining away, you made me 
 fear I had been too lavish with my favors that is every 
 woman s fear I knew in my heart you loved me ; that you 
 could not have done and said what you did otherwise. 
 Now you see what faith I have in you, and you a man, 
 whom a woman s instinct prompts to doubt. How does it 
 compare with your faith in me, a woman, whom all the 
 instincts of a manly nature should dispose to trust? It 
 seems to be an unwritten law that a man may lie to a 
 woman concerning the most important thing in life to her, 
 and be proud of it, but you see even now I have all faith 
 in your love for me, else I surely should not be here. You 
 see I trust even your unspoken word, when it might, with 
 out much blame to you, be a spoken lie; yet you do not 
 
170 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 trust me, who have no world-given right to speak falsely 
 about such things, and when that which I now do is full 
 of shame for me, and what I have done full of guilt, if in 
 spired by aught but the purest truth from my heart of 
 hearts. Your words mean so much so much more, I 
 think, than you realize and are so cruel in turning to evil 
 the highest, purest impulse a woman can feel the glow 
 ing pride in self-surrender, and the sweet, delightful priv 
 ilege of giving where she loves. How can you ? How can 
 you?" 
 
 How eloquent she was! It seemed to me this would 
 have melted the frozen sea, but I think Brandon felt that 
 now his only hope lay in the safeguard of his constantly 
 upheld indignation. 
 
 When he spoke he ignored all she had said. 
 
 "You did well to employ my Lord of Buckingham. It 
 will make matters more interesting when I tell you it was 
 he who attacked you and was caught by the leg under his 
 wounded horse ; he was lame, I am told, for some time 
 afterward. I had watched him following you from the 
 gate at Bridewell, and at once recognized him when his 
 mask fell off during the fight by the wall. You have 
 done well at every step, I see." 
 
 "Oh, God ; to think of it ! Had I but known ! Buck 
 ingham shall pay for this with his head ; but how could I 
 know? I was but a poor, distracted girl, sure to make 
 some fatal error. I was in such agony your wounds 
 believe me, I suffered more from them than you could. 
 Every pain you felt was a pang for me and then that 
 awful marriage ! I was being sold like a wretched slave 
 to that old satyr, to be gloated over and feasted upon. No 
 man can know the horror of that thought to a woman 
 to any woman, good or bad. To have one s beauty turn 
 
IT IS MY TURN TO ASK 
 FORGIVENESS . . ." 
 
ATONEMENT 171 
 
 to curse her and make her desirable only only as well- 
 fed cattle are prized. Xo matter how great the manifesta 
 tion of such so-called love, it all the more repels a woman 
 and adds to her loathing day by day. Then there was 
 something else worse than all," she was almost weeping 
 now "I might have been able to bear the thought even of 
 that hideous marriage others have lived through the like 
 but but after that that day when you it seemed 
 that your touch was a spark dropped into a heart full of 
 tinder, which had been lying there awaiting it all these 
 years. In that one moment the flame grew so intense I 
 could not withstand it. My throat ached ; I could scarcely 
 breathe, and it seemed that my heart would burst." Here 
 the tears gushed forth as she took a step toward him with 
 outstretched arms, and said between her sobs : "I wanted 
 you, you ! for my husband for my husband, and I could 
 not bear the torturing thought of losing you or enduring 
 any other man. I could not give you up after that it 
 was all too late, too late; it had gone too far. I was 
 lost! lost!" 
 
 He sprang to where she stood leaning toward him, and 
 caught her to his breast. 
 
 She held him from 1 ~er while she said: "Xow you 
 know now you know . .t I would not have left you in 
 that terrible place, had I known it. Xo, not if it had taken 
 my life to buy your freedom." 
 
 "I do know ; I do know. Be sure of that ; I know it 
 and shall know it always, whatever happens ; nothing can 
 change me. I will never doubt you again. It is my turn 
 to ask forgiveness now." 
 
 "Xo, no; just forgive me; that is all I ask," and her 
 head was on his breast. 
 
 "Let us step out into the passage-way, Edwin," said 
 
172 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Jane, and we did. There were times when Jane seemed 
 to be inspired. 
 
 When we went back into the room Mary and Brandon 
 were sitting in the window-way on his great cloak. They 
 rose and came to us holding each other s hands, and Mary 
 asked, looking up to him : 
 
 "Shall we tell them?" 
 
 "As you like, my lady." 
 
 Mary was willing, and looked for Brandon to speak, so 
 he said: "This lady whom I hold by the hand and my 
 self have promised each other before the good God to be 
 husband and wife, if fortune ever so favor us that it be 
 possible." 
 
 "No, that is not it," interrupted Mary. "There is no 
 if in it ; it shall be, whether it is possible or not. Noth 
 ing shall prevent." At this she kissed Jane and told her 
 how she loved her, and gave me her hand, for her love 
 was so great within her that it overflowed upon every one. 
 She, however, always had a plenitude of love for Jane, 
 and though she might scold her and apparently misuse 
 her, Jane was as dear as a sister, and was always sure of 
 her steadfast, tried and lasting affection. 
 
 After Mary had said there should be no "if," Brandon 
 replied : 
 
 "Very well, Madame Destiny." Then turning to us: 
 "What ought I to do for one who is willing to stoop from 
 so high an estate to honor me and be my wife ?" 
 
 "Love her, and her alone, with your whole heart, as 
 long as you live. That is all she wants, I am sure," vol 
 unteered Jane, sentimentally. 
 
 "Jane, you are a Madam Solomon," said Mary, with a 
 tone of her old-time laugh. "Is the course you advise as 
 you would wish to be done by?" And she glanced mis- 
 
ATONEMENT 173 
 
 chievously from Jane to me, as the laugh bubbled up from 
 her heart, merry and soft as if it had not come from what 
 was but now the home of grief and pain. 
 
 "I know nothing about how I should like to be done 
 by," said Jane, with a pout, "but if you have such re 
 spect for my wisdom I will offer a little more ; I think it 
 is time we should be going." 
 
 "Now Jane, you are growing foolish again; I will not 
 go yet," and Mary made manifest her intention by sitting 
 down. She could not bring herself to forego the pleasure 
 of staying, dangerous as she knew it to be, and could not 
 bear the pain of parting, even for a short time, now that 
 she had Brandon once more. The time was soon coming 
 but I am too fast again. 
 
 After a time Brandon said: "I think Jane s wisdom 
 remains with her, Alary. It is better that you do not stay, 
 much as I wish to have you." 
 
 She was ready to obey him at once. 
 
 When she arose to go she took both his hands in hers 
 and whispered : " Mary. I like the name on your lips," 
 and, then glancing hurriedly over her shoulder to see if 
 Jane and I were looking, lifted her face to him and ran 
 after us. 
 
 We were a little in advance of the princess, and, as we 
 walked along, Jane said under her breath: "Now look 
 out for trouble ; it will come quickly, and I fear for 
 Master Brandon more than any one. He has made a noble 
 fight against her and against himself, and it is no wonder 
 she loves him." 
 
 This made me feel a little jealous 
 
 "Jane, you could not love him, could you ?" I asked. 
 
 "No matter what I could do, Edwin ; I do not, and that 
 should satisfy you." Her voice and manner said more 
 
174 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 than her words. The hall was almost dark, and I have 
 always considered that occasion one of my lost opportuni 
 ties ; but they are not many. 
 
 The next evening Brandon and I, upon Lady Mary s 
 invitation, went up to her apartments, but did not stay 
 long fearing some one might find us there and cause trou 
 ble. We would not have gone at all had not the whole 
 court been absent in London, for discovery would have 
 been a serious matter to one of us at least. 
 
 As I told you once before, Henry did not care how much 
 Brandon might love his sister, but Buckingham had whis 
 pered suspicions of the state of Mary s heart, and his own 
 observations, together with the intercepted note, had given 
 these suspicions a stronger coloring, so that a very small 
 matter might turn them into certainties. 
 
 The king had pardoned Brandon for the killing of the 
 two men in Billingsgate, as he was forced to do under the 
 circumstances, but there his kindness stopped. After a 
 short time he deprived him of his place at court, and all 
 that was left for him of royal favor was permission to re 
 main w r ith me and live at the palace until such time as he 
 should sail for New Spain. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 A GIRL S CONSENT 
 
 The treaty had been agreed upon, and as to the interna 
 tional arrangement, at least, the marriage of Louis de Va- 
 lois and Mary Tudor was a settled fact. All it needed 
 was the consent of an eighteen-year-old girl a small mat 
 ter, of course, as marriageable women are but commodities 
 in statecraft, and theoretically, at least, acquiesce in every 
 thing their liege lords ordain. Lady Mary s consent had 
 been but theoretical, but it was looked upon by every one 
 as amounting to an actual, vociferated, sonorous "yes;" 
 that is to say, by every one but the princess, who had no 
 more notion of saying "yes" than she had of reciting the 
 Sanscrit vocabulary from the pillory of Smithfield. 
 
 Wolsey, whose manner was smooth as an otter s coat, 
 had been sent to fetch the needed "yes" ; but he failed. 
 
 Jane told me about it. 
 
 Wolsey had gone privately to see the princess, and had 
 thrown out a sort of skirmish line by flattering her beauty, 
 but had found her not in the best humor. 
 
 "Yes, yes, my lord of Lincoln, I know how beautiful 
 I am ; no one knows better ; I know all about my hair, 
 eyes, teeth, eyebrows and skin. I tell you I am sick of 
 them. Don t talk to me about them ; it won t help you to 
 get my consent to marry that vile old creature. That is 
 w r hat you have come for, of course. I have been expecting 
 you ; why did not my brother come ?" 
 
 " I think he was afraid; and to tell you the truth I was 
 
 (175) 
 
176 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 afraid myself," answered Wolsey with a smile. This 
 made Mary smile, too, in spite of herself, and went a long 
 way toward putting her in a good humor. Wolsey contin 
 ued : "His majesty could not have given me a more dis 
 agreeable task. You doubtless think I am in favor of this 
 marriage, but I am not." 
 
 This was as great a lie as ever fell whole out of a bish 
 op s mouth. "I have been obliged to fall in with the king s 
 views on the matter, for he has had his mind set on it from 
 the first mention by de Longueville." 
 
 "Was it that bead-eyed little mummy who suggested it ?" 
 
 "Yes, and if you marry the king of France you can re 
 pay him with usury." 
 
 Tis an inducement, by my troth." 
 
 "I do not mind saying to you in confidence that I think 
 it an outrage to force a girl like you to marry a man like 
 Louis of France, but how are we to avoid it?" 
 
 By the "we" Wolsey put himself in alliance with Mary, 
 and the move was certainly adroit. 
 
 "How are we to avoid it? Have no fear of that, my 
 lord ; I will show you." 
 
 "Oh! but my dear princess; permit me; you do not 
 seem to know your brother ; you can not in any way avoid 
 this marriage. I believe he will imprison you and put you 
 on bread and water to force your consent. I am sure you 
 had better do willingly that which you will eventually be 
 compelled to do anyway; and besides there is another 
 thought that has come to me ; shall I speak plainly before 
 Lady Bolingbroke ?" 
 
 "I have no secrets from her." 
 
 "Very well; it is this. Louis is old and very feeble; 
 he can not live long, and it may be that you can, by a 
 ready consent now, exact a promise from your brother to 
 
A GIRL S CONSENT I?7 
 
 allow you your own choice in the event of a second mar 
 riage. You might in that way purchase what you could 
 not bring about in any other way." 
 
 "How do you know that I want to purchase aught in 
 any way, Master Wolsey ? I most certainly do not intend 
 to do so by marrying France." 
 
 "I do not know that you wish to purchase anything, 
 but a woman s heart is not always under her full control, 
 and it sometimes goes out to one very far beneath her in 
 station, but the equal of any man on earth in grandeur of 
 soul and nobleness of nature. It might be that there is 
 such a man whom any woman would be amply justified 
 in purchasing at any sacrifice doubly so if it were buy 
 ing happiness for two." 
 
 His meaning was too plain even to pretend to misunder 
 stand, and Mary s eyes flashed at him, as her face broke 
 into a dimpling smile in spite of her. 
 
 Wolsey thought he had won, and to clinch the victory 
 said, in his forceful manner : Louis XII will not live a 
 year ; let me carry to the king your consent, and I guaran 
 tee you his promise as to a second marriage." 
 
 In an instant Mary s eyes shot fire, and her face was 
 like the blackest storm cloud. 
 
 "Carry this to the king: that I will see him and the 
 whole kingdom sunk in hell before I will marry Louis of 
 France. That is my answer once and for all. Good even, 
 Master Wolsey." And she swept out of the room with 
 head up and dilating nostrils ; the very picture of defiance. 
 
 St. George ! She must have looked superb. She was 
 one of the few persons whom anger and disdain and the 
 other passions which we call ungentle seemed to illumine 
 they were so strong in her, and yet not violent. It 
 seemed that every deep emotion but added to her beauty 
 
 12 
 
*7$ WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and brought it out, as the light within a church brings out 
 tfie exquisite figuring on the windows. 
 
 After Wolsey had gone, Jane said to Mary: "Don t 
 jrou think it would have been better had you sent a softer 
 answer to your brother? I believe you could reach his 
 heart even now if you were to make the effort. You have 
 not tried in this matter as you did in the others." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right, Jane. I will go to Henry." 
 
 Mary waited until she knew the king was alone, and 
 then went to him. 
 
 On entering the room, she said: "Brother, I sent a 
 hasty message to you by the Bishop of Lincoln this morn 
 ing, and have come to ask your forgiveness." 
 
 "Ah! little sister; I thought you would change your 
 mind. Now you are a good girl." 
 
 "Oh ! do not misunderstand me ; I asked your forgive 
 ness for the message ; as to the marriage, I came to tell 
 you it would kill me, and that I could not bear it. Oh ! 
 brother, you are not a woman you can not know." 
 Henry flew into a passion, and with oaths and curses 
 ordered her to leave him unless she was ready to give her 
 consent. She had but two courses to take, so she left with 
 her heart full of hatred for the most brutal wretch who 
 ever sat upon a throne and that is making an extreme 
 case. As she was going, she turned upon him like a fury, 
 and exclaimed : 
 
 "Never, never! Do you hear? Never!" 
 
 Preparations went on for the marriage just as if Mary 
 had given her solemn consent. The important work of 
 providing the trousseau began at once, and the more im 
 portant matter of securing the loan from the London mer 
 chants was pushed along rapidly. The good citizens might 
 cling affectionately to their angels, double angels, crowns 
 
A GIRL S CONSENT 179 
 
 and pounds sterling, but the fear in which they held the 
 king, and a little patting of the royal hand upon the ple 
 beian head, worked the charm, and out came the yellow 
 gold, never to be seen again, God wot. Under the stim 
 ulus of the royal smile they were ready to shout themselves 
 hoarse, and to eat and drink themselves red in the face in 
 celebration of the v. adding day. In short, they were ready 
 to be tickled nearly to death for the honor of paying to a 
 wretched old lecher a wagon-load of gold to accept, as a 
 gracious gift, the most beautiful heart-broken girl in the 
 world. That is, she would have been heart-broken had she 
 not been inspired with courage. As it was, she wasted 
 none of her energy in lamentations, but saved it all to 
 fight with. Heavens ! how she did fight ! If a valiant de 
 fense ever deserved victory, it was in her case. When the 
 queen went to her with silks and taffetas and fine cloths to 
 consult about the trousseau, although the theme was one 
 which would interest almost any woman, she would have 
 none of it, and when Catherine insisted upon her trying on 
 a certain gown, she called her a blackamoor, tore the gar 
 ment to pieces, and ordered her to leave the room. 
 
 Henry sent Wolsey to tell her that the I3th day of Aug 
 ust had been fixed upon as the day of the marriage, de 
 Longueville to act as the French king s proxy, and 
 Wolsey was glad to come off with his life. 
 
 Matters were getting into a pretty tangle at the palace. 
 Alar}* would not speak to the king, and poor Catherine 
 was afraid to come within arm s length of her; W r olsey 
 was glad to keep out of her way, and she flew at Bucking 
 ham with talons and beak upon first sight. As to the bat 
 tle with Buckingham, it was short but decisive, and this 
 was the way it came about: There had been a passage 
 between the duke and Brandon, in which the latter had 
 
l8o WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 tried to coax the former into a duel, the only way, of 
 course, to settle the weighty matters between them. Buck 
 ingham, however, had had a taste of Brandon s nimble 
 sword play, and, bearing in mind Judson s fate, did not 
 care for any more. They had met by accident, and Bran 
 don, full of smiles and as polite as a Frenchman, greeted 
 him. 
 
 "Doubtless my lord, having crossed swords twice with 
 me, will do me the great honor to grant that privilege the 
 third time, and will kindly tell me where my friend can 
 wait upon a friend of his grace." 
 
 "There is no need for us to meet over that little affair. 
 You had the best of it, and if I am satisfied you should 
 be. I was really in the wrong, but I did not know the 
 princess had invited you to her ball." 
 
 "Your lordship is pleased to evade," returned Brandon. 
 "It is not the ball-room matter that I have to complain of; 
 as you have rightly said, if you are satisfied, I certainly 
 should be ; but it is that your lordship, in the name of the 
 king, instructed the keeper of Newgate prison to confine 
 me in an underground cell, and prohibited communica 
 tion with any of my friends. You so arranged it that my 
 trial should be secret, both as to the day thereof and 
 the event, in order that it should not be known to those 
 who might be interested in my release. You promised the 
 Lady Mary that you would procure my liberty, and there 
 by prevented her going to the king for that purpose, and 
 afterwards told her it had all been done, as promised, and 
 that I had escaped to New Spain. It is because of this, my 
 Lord Buckingham, that I now denounce you as a liar, a 
 coward and a perjured knight, and demand of you such 
 satisfaction as one man can give to another for mortal in- 
 
A GIRL S CONSENT l8l 
 
 jury. If you refuse, I will kill you as I would a cut-throat 
 the next time I meet you." 
 
 "I care nothing for your rant, fellow, but out of con 
 sideration for the feelings which your fancied injuries 
 have put into your heart, I tell you that I did what I 
 could to liberate you, and received from the keeper a prom 
 ise that you should be allowed to escape. After that a cer 
 tain letter addressed to you was discovered and fell into 
 the hands of the king a matter in which I had no part. 
 As to your confinement and non-communication with your 
 friends, that was at his majesty s command after he had 
 seen the letter, as he will most certainly confirm to you. I 
 say this for my own sake, not that I care what you may 
 say or think." 
 
 This offer of confirmation by the king made it all sound 
 like the truth, so much will even a little truth leaven a 
 great lie ; and part of Brandon s sails came down against 
 the mast. The whole statement surprised him, and, most 
 of all, the intercepted letter. What letter could it have 
 been ? It was puzzling, and yet he dared not ask. 
 
 As the duke was about to walk away, Brandon stopped 
 him : "One moment, your grace ; I am willing to admit 
 what you have said, for I am not now prepared to contra 
 dict it; but there is yet another matter we have to settle. 
 You attacked me on horseback, and tried to murder me in 
 order to abduct two ladies that night over in Billingsgate. 
 That you can not deny. I watched you follow the ladies 
 from Bridewell to Grouche s, and saw your face when your 
 mask fell off during the melee as plainly as I see it now. 
 If other proof is wanting, there is that sprained knee upon 
 which your horse fell, causing you to limp even yet. I 
 am sure now that my lord will meet me like a man; or 
 would he prefer that I should go to the king and tell him 
 
182 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and the world the whole shameful story? I have concealed 
 it heretofore, thinking it my personal right and privilege 
 to settle with you." 
 
 Buckingham turned a shade paler as he replied : "I do 
 not meet such as you on the field of honor, and have no 
 fear of your slander injuring me." 
 
 He felt secure in the thought that the girls did not know 
 who had attacked them, and could not corroborate Bran 
 don in his accusation, or Mary, surely, never would have 
 appealed to him for help. 
 
 I was with Brandon at a little distance, that is when 
 this occurred, and after Buckingham had left, we went to 
 find the girls in the forest. We knew they would be look 
 ing for us, although they would pretend surprise when 
 they saw us. We soon met them, and the very leaves of 
 the trees gave a soft, contented rustle in response to Mary s 
 low, mellow laugh of joy. 
 
 After perhaps half an hour, we encountered Bucking 
 ham with his lawyer-knight, Johnson. They had evidently 
 walked cut to this quiet path to consult about the situation. 
 As they approached, Mary spoke to the duke with a 
 vicious sparkle in her eyes. 
 
 "My Lord Buckingham, this shall cost you your head ; 
 remember my words when you are on the scaffold, just 
 when your neck fits into the hollow of the block." 
 
 He stopped, with an evident desire to explain, but Mary 
 pointed down the path and said, "Go, or I will have Mas 
 ter Brandon spit you on his sword. Two to one would 
 be easy odds compared with the four to one you put 
 against him in Billingsgate. Go!" And the battle was 
 over, the foe never having struck a blow. It hurt me that 
 Mary should speak of the odds being two to one against 
 
A GIRL S CONSENT 183 
 
 Brandon when I was at hand. It is true I was not very 
 large, but I could have taken care of a lawyer. 
 
 Now it was that the lawyer knight earned his bread by 
 his wits, for it was he, I know, who instigated the next 
 move a master stroke in its way, and one which proved 
 a checkmate to us. It was this: the duke went at once 
 to the king, and, in a tone of injured innocence, told him 
 of the charge made by Brandon with Mary s evident ap 
 proval, and demanded redress for the slander. Thus it 
 seemed that the strength of our position was about to be 
 turned against us. Brandon was at once summoned and 
 promptly appeared before the king, only too anxious to 
 confront the duke. As to the confinement of Brandon and 
 his secret trial, the king did not care to hear ; that was a 
 matter of no consequence to him ; the important question-, 
 was, did Buckingham attack the princess ? 
 
 Brandon told the whole straight story exactly as it was,s I 
 which Buckingham as promptly denied, and offered to 
 prove by his almoner that he was at his devotions on the 
 night and at the hour of the attack. So here was a con 
 flict of evidence which called for new witnesses, and 
 Henry asked Brandon if the girls had seen and recognized 
 the duke. To this question, of course, he was compelled to 
 answer no, and the whole accusation, after all, rested upon 
 Brandon s word, against which, on the other hand, was the 
 evidence of the Duke of Buckingham and his convenient 
 almoner. 
 
 All this disclosed to the full poor Mary s anxiety to 
 help Brandon, and the duke having adroitly let out the fact 
 that he had just met the princess with Brandon at a certain 
 secluded spot in the forest, Henry s suspicion of her par 
 tiality received new force, and he began to look upon the 
 
1 84 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 unfortunate Brandon as a partial cause, at least, of Mary s 
 aversion to the French marriage. 
 
 Henry grew angry and ordered Brandon to leave the 
 court, with the sullen remark that it was only his services 
 to the princess Mary that saved him from a day with 
 papers on the pillory. 
 
 This was not by any means what Brandon had expected. 
 There seemed to be a fatality for him about everything 
 connected with that unfortunate trip to Grouche s. He 
 had done his duty, and this was his recompense. Virtue 
 is sometimes a pitiful reward for itself, notwithstanding 
 much wisdom to the contrary. 
 
 Henry was by no means sure that his suspicions con 
 cerning Mary s heart were correct, and in all he had heard 
 he had not one substantial fact upon which to base convic 
 tion. He had not seen her with Brandon since their 
 avowal, or he would have had a fact in every look, the 
 truth in every motion, a demonstration in every glance, 
 She seemed powerless even to attempt concealment. In 
 Brandon s handsome manliness and evident superiority, 
 the king thought he saw a very clear possibility for Mary 
 to love, and where there is such a possibility for a girl, she 
 usually fails to fulfill expectations. I suppose there are 
 more wrong guesses as to the sort of man a given woman 
 will fall in love with than on any other subject of equal 
 importance in the whole range of human surmising. It 
 did not, however, strike the king that way, and he, in com 
 mon with most other sons of Adam, supposing that he 
 knew all about it, marked Brandon as a very possible and 
 troublesome personage. For once in the history of the 
 world a man had hit upon the truth in this obscure mat 
 ter, although he had no idea how correct he was. 
 
A GIRL S CONSENT 185 
 
 Now, all this brought Brandon into the deep shadow of 
 the royal frown, and, like many another man, he sunk his 
 fortune in the fathomless depths of a woman s heart, and 
 thought himself rich in doing it. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 IN THE SIREN COUNTRY 
 
 With the king, admiration stood Tor affection, a mistake 
 frequently made by people not given to self-analysis, and 
 in a day or two a reaction set in toward Brandon which 
 inspired a desire to make some amends for his harsh treat 
 ment. This he could not do to any great extent, on Buck 
 ingham s account ; at least, not until the London loan was 
 in his coffers, but the fact that Brandon was going to New 
 Spain so soon and would be out of the way, both of Mary s 
 eyes and Mary s marriage, stimulated that rare flower in 
 Henry s heart, a good resolve, and Brandon was offered 
 his old quarters with me until such time as he should sail 
 for New Spain. 
 
 He had never abandoned this plan, and now that mat 
 ters had taken this turn with Mary and the king, his reso 
 lution was stronger than ever, in that the scheme held two 
 recommendations and a possibility. 
 
 The recommendations were, first, it would take him 
 away from Mary, with whom when out of the inspiring 
 influence of her buoyant hopefulness he knew marriage 
 to be utterly impossible ; and second, admitting and facing 
 that impossibility, he might find at least partial relief from 
 his heartache in the stirring events and adventures of 
 that far away land of monsters, dragons, savages and 
 gold. The possibility lay in the gold, and a very faintly 
 burning flame of hope held out the still more faintly glim 
 mering chance that fortune, finding him there almost 
 
 (186) 
 
iN THE SIREN COUNTRY 187 
 
 alone, might, for lack of another lover, smile upon him by ! 
 way of squaring accounts. She might lead him to a 
 cavern of gold, and gold would do anything; even, per- j 
 haps, purchase so priceless a treasure as a certain princess j 
 of the blood royal. He did not, however, dwell much on 
 this possibility, but kept the delightful hope well neutral 
 ized with a constantly present sense of its improbability, 
 in order to save the pain of a long fall when disappoint 
 ment should come. 
 
 Brandon at once accepted the king s offer of lodging in 
 the palace, for now that he felt sure of himself in the mat 
 ter of New Spain, and his separation from Mary, he 
 longed to see as much as possible of her before the light 
 went out forever, even though it were playing with death 
 itself to do so. 
 
 Poor fellow, his suffering was so acute during this pe 
 riod that it affected me like a contagion. 
 
 It did not make a mope of him, but came in spasms that 
 almost drove him wild. He would at times pace the room 
 and cry out: "J esu - Caskoden, what shall I do? She 
 will be the wife of the French king, and I shall sit in the 
 wilderness and try every moment to imagine what she 
 is doing and thinking. I shall find the bearing of Paris, 
 and look in her direction until my brain melts in my effort 
 to see her, and then I shall wander in the woods, a suffer 
 ing imbecile, feeding on roots and nuts. Would to God 
 one of us might die. If it were not selfish, I should wish 
 I might be the one. * 
 
 I said nothing in answer to these outbursts, as I had no 
 consolation to offer. 
 
 We had two or three of our little meetings of four, 
 dangerous as they were, at which Mary, feeling that each 
 time she saw Brandon might be the last, would sit and 
 
188 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 look at him with glowing eyes that in turn softened and 
 burned as he spoke. She did not talk much, but devoted 
 all her time and energies to looking with her whole soul. 
 Never before or since was there a girl so much in love. 
 A young girl thoroughly in love is the most beautiful ob 
 ject on earth beautiful even in ugliness. Imagine, then, 
 what it made of Mary ! 
 
 Growing partly, perhaps, out of his unattainability for 
 he was as far out of her reach as she out of his she 
 had long since begun to worship him. She had learned to 
 know him so well, and his valiant defense of her in Bil 
 lingsgate, together with his noble self-sacrifice in refusing 
 to compromise her in order to save himself, had presented 
 ; him to her in so noble a light that she had come to love 
 lup to him as her superior. Her surrender had been com- 
 plete, and she found in it a joy far exceeding that of any 
 victory or triumph she could imagine. 
 
 I could not, for the life of me, tell what would be the 
 outcome of it all. Mary was one woman in ten thousand, 
 so full was she of feminine force and will a force which 
 we men pretend to despise, but to which in the end we 
 always succumb. 
 
 Like most women, the princess was not much given to 
 analysis ; and, I think, secretly felt that this matter of so 
 great moment to her would, as everything else always had, 
 eventually turn itself to her desire. She eould not see the 
 way, but, to her mind, there could be no doubt about it ? 
 fate was her friend ; always had been, and surely always 
 would be. 
 
 With Brandon it was different; experience as to how 
 the ardently hoped for usually turns out to be the sadly 
 regretted, together with a thorough face-to-face analysis 
 of the situation, showed him the truth, all too clearly, and 
 
IN THE SIREN COUNTRY 189 
 
 he longed for the day when he should go, as a sufferer 
 longs for the surgeon s knife that is to relieve him of an 
 aching limb. The hopelessness of the outlook had for the 
 time destroyed nearly all of his combativeness, and had 
 softened his nature almost to apathetic weakness. It 
 would do no good to struggle in a boundless, fathomless 
 sea ; so he was ready to sink and was going to New Spain 
 to hope no more. 
 
 Alary did not see what was to prevent the separation, 
 but this did not trouble her as much as one would suppose,/ 
 and she was content to let events take their own way,) 
 hoping and believing that in the end it would be hersJ 
 Events, however, continued in this wrong course so longj 
 and persistently, that at last the truth dawned upon her 1 
 and she began to doubt ; and as time flew on and matters 
 evinced a disposition to grow worse instead of better, she 
 gradually, like the sun-dial in the moonlight, awakened to 
 the fact that there was something wrong; a cog loose 1 
 somewhere in the complicated machinery of fate the 
 fate which had always been her tried, trusted and obe 
 dient servant. 
 
 The trouble began in earnest with the discovery of our 
 meetings in Lady Mary s parlor. There was nothing at 
 all unusual in the fact that small companies of young folk 
 frequently spent their evenings with her, but we knew 
 well enough that the unusual element in our parties was 
 their exceeding smallness. A company of eight or ten 
 young persons was well enough, although it, of course, 
 created jealousy on the part of those who were left out ; 
 but four two of each sex made a difference in kind, 
 however much we might insist it was only in degree ; and 
 this we soon learned was the king s opinion. 
 
 You may be sure there was many a jealous person about 
 
190 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 the court ready to carry tales, and that it was impossible 
 lonp; to keep our meetings secret among such a host as 
 then lived in Greenwich palace. 
 
 One day the queen summoned Jane and put her to the 
 question. Now Jane thought the truth was made only to 
 be told, a fallacy into which many good people have fall 
 en, to their utter destruction; since the truth, like every 
 other good thing, may be abused. 
 
 Well ! Janejold it all in a moment^ and Catherine was 
 so horrified~thaT^hTw r as~Trke to faint. She went with her 
 hair-lifting horror to the king, and poured into his ears a 
 tale of imprudence and debauchery well caculated to start 
 his righteous, virtue-prompted indignation into a threaten 
 ing flame. 
 
 Mary, Jane, Brandon and myself were at once sum 
 moned to the presence of both their majesties and soundly 
 reprimanded. Three of us were ordered to leave the court 
 before we could speak a word in self-defense, and Jane 
 had enough of her favorite truth for once. Mary, how 
 ever, came to our rescue with her coaxing eloquence and 
 potent, feminine logic, and soon convinced Henry that the 
 queen, who really counted for little with him, had made a 
 mountain out of a very small mole-hill. Thus the royal 
 wrath was appeased to such an extent that the order for 
 expulsion was modified to a command that there be no 
 more quartette gatherings in Lady Mary s parlor. This 
 leniency was more easy for the princess to bring about, 
 by reason of the fact that she had not spoken to her 
 brother since the day she went to see him after Wolsey s 
 visit, and had been so roughly driven off. At first, upon 
 her refusal to speak to him after the Wolsey visit 
 Henry was angry on account of what he called her inso 
 lence ; but as she did not seem to care for that, and as his 
 
IN THE SIREN COUNTRY 191 
 
 anger did nothing toward unsealing her lips, he pretended 
 indifference. Still the same stubborn silence was main 
 tained. This soon began to amuse the king, and o*f late 
 he had been trying to be on friendly terms again with his 
 sister through a series of elephantine antics and bear-like 
 pleasantries, which were the most dismal failures that is, 
 in the way of bringing about a reconciliation. They were 
 more successful from a comical point of view. So Henry 
 was really glad for something that would loosen the 
 tongue usually so lively, and for an opportunity to gratify 
 his sister from whom he was demanding such a sacrifice, 
 and for whom he expected to receive no less a price than 
 the help of Louis of France, the most powerful king of 
 Europe, to the imperial crown. 
 
 Thus our meetings were broken up, and Brandon knew 
 his dream was over, and that any effort to see the princess 
 would probably result in disaster for them both ; for him 
 certainly. 
 
 The king upon that same day told Mary of the inter 
 cepted letter sent by her to Brandon at Newgate, and ac 
 cused her of what he w r as pleased to term an improper 
 feeling for a low-born fellow. 
 
 Mary at once sent a full account of the communication 
 in a letter to Brandon, who read it with no small degree of 
 ill comfort as the harbinger of trouble. 
 
 "I had better leave here soon, or I may go without my 
 head," he remarked. "When that thought gets to work 
 ing in the king s brain, he will strike, and I shall fall." 
 
 Letters began to come to our rooms from Mary, at first 
 begging Brandon to come to her, and then upbraiding him 
 because of his coldness and cowardice, and telling him that 
 if he cared for her as she did for him, he would see her, 
 though he had to wade through fire and blood. That was 
 
*9 2 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 exactly where the trouble lay; it was not fire and blood 
 through which he would have to pass; they were small 
 matters, mere nothings that would really have added zest 
 and interest to the achievement. But the frowning laugh 
 of the tyrant, who could bind him hand and foot, and a 
 vivid remembrance of the Newgate dungeon, with a dang 
 ling noose or a hollowed-out block in the near background, 
 were matters that would have taken the adventurous ten- 
 dency out of even the cracked brain of chivalry itself. 
 / Brandon cared only to fight where there was a possible 
 ! victory or ransom, or a prospect of some sort, at least, of 
 I achieving success. Bayard preferred a stone wall, and 
 thought to show his brains by beating them out against it, 
 and in a sense he could do it. * * * What a pity this 
 senseless, stiff-kneed, light-headed chivalry did not beat 
 its brains out several centuries before Bayard put such an 
 absurd price upon himself. 
 
 So every phase of the question which his good sense pre 
 sented told Brandon, whose passion was as ardent though 
 not so impatient as Mary s, that it would be worse than 
 foolhardy to try to see her. He, however, had determined 
 to see her once more before he left, but as it could, in all 
 probability, be only once, he was reserving the meeting 
 until the last, and had written Mary that it was their best 
 and only chance. 
 
 This brought to Mary a stinging realization of the fact 
 that Brandon was about to leave her and that she would 
 lose him if something were not done quickly. Now for 
 Mary, after a life of gratified whims, to lose the very thing 
 she wanted most of all that for which she would willing 
 ly have given up every other desire her heart had ever 
 coined was a thought hardly to be endured. She felt 
 
SHE WENT ALONE, ONE AFTERNOON, 
 TO SEE BRANDON." 
 
IN THE SIREN COUNTRY 193 
 
 that the world would surely collapse. It could not, would 
 not, should not be. 
 
 Her vigorous young nerves were too strong to be be 
 numbed by an overwhelming agony, as is sometimes the 
 case with those who are fortunate enough to be weaker, so 
 she had to suffer and endure. Life itself, yes, life a 
 thousand times, was slipping away from her. She must 
 be doing something or she would perish. Poor Mary ! 
 How a grand soul like hers, full of faults and weakness, 
 can suffer. What an infinite disproportion between her 
 susceptibility to pain and her power to combat it. She 
 had the maximum capacity for one and the minimum 
 strength for the other. No wonder it drove her almost 
 mad that excruciating pang of love. 
 
 She could not endure inaction, so she did the worst 
 thing possible. She went alone, one afternoon, just be 
 fore dusk, to see Brandon at our rooms. I was not there 
 when she first went in, but, having seen her on the way, 
 suspected something and followed, arriving two or three 
 minutes after her. I knew it was best that I should be 
 present, and was sure Brandon would wish it. When I 
 entered they were holding each other s hands, in silence. 
 They had not yet found their tongues, so full and crowded 
 were their hearts. It was pathetic to see them, especially 
 the girl, who had not Brandon s hopelessness to deaden 
 the pain by partial resignation. 
 
 Upon my entrance, she dropped his hands and turned 
 quickly toward me with a frightened look, but was reas 
 sured upon seeing who it was. Brandon mechanically 
 walked away from her and seated himself on a stool. 
 Mary, as mechanically, moved to his side and placed her 
 hand on his shoulder. Turning her face toward me, she 
 said: "Sir Edwin, I know you will forgive me when I 
 
194 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 tell you that we have a great deal to say and wish to be 
 alone." 
 
 I was about to go when Brandon stopped me. 
 
 "No, no; Caskoden, please stay; it would not do. It 
 would be bad enough, God knows, if the princess should 
 be found here with both of us; but, with me alone, I 
 should be dead before morning. There is danger enough 
 as it is, for they will watch us." 
 
 Mary knew he was right, but she could not resist a 
 vicious little glance toward me, who was in no way to 
 blame. 
 
 Presently we, all moved into the window-way, where 
 Brandon and Mary sat upon the great cloak and I on a 
 camp-stool in front of them, completely filling up the little 
 passage. 
 
 "I can bear this no longer," exclaimed Mary. "I will 
 go to my brother to-night and tell him all ; I will tell him 
 how I suffer, and that I shall die if you are allowed to go 
 away and leave me forever. He loves me, and I can do 
 anything with him when I try. I know I can obtain his 
 consent to our our marriage. He can not know how I 
 suffer, else he would not treat me so. I will let him see 
 I will convince him. I have in my mind everything I 
 want to say and do. I will sit on his knee and stroke his 
 hair and kiss him." And she laughed softly as her spirit 
 revived in the breath of a growing hope. "Then I will 
 tell him how handsome he is, and how I hear the ladies 
 sighing for him, and he will come around all right by the 
 third visit. Oh, I know how to do it ; I have done it so 
 often. Never fear ! I wish I had gone at it long ago." 
 
 Her enthusiastic fever of hope was really contagious, 
 but Brandon, whose life was at stake, had his wits quick 
 ened by the danger. 
 
IN THE SIREN COUNTRY 195 
 
 "Mary, would you like to see me a corpse before to 
 morrow noon ?" he asked. 
 
 "Why ! of course not ; why do you ask such a dreadful 
 question ?" 
 
 "Because, if you wish to make sure of it, do what you 
 have just said go to the king and tell him all. I doubt 
 if he could wait till morning, but believe he would awaken 
 me at midnight to put me to sleep forever at the end of a 
 rope or on a block pillow." 
 
 "Oh! no! you are all wrong; I know what I can do 
 with Henry." 
 
 "If that is the case, I say good-bye now, for I shall 
 be out of England, if possible, by midnight. You must 
 promise me that you will not only not go to the king at 
 all about this matter, but that you will guard your tongue, 
 jealous of its slightest word, and remember with every 
 breath that on your prudence hangs my life, which, I 
 know, is dear to you. Do you promise? If you do not I 
 must fly ; so you will lose me one way or the other, if you 
 tell the king ; either by my flight or by my death." 
 
 "I promise," said Mary, with drooping head ; the em 
 bodiment of despair; all life and hope having left her 
 again. 
 
 After a few minutes her face brightened, and she asked 
 Brandon what ship he would sail in for New Spain, and 
 whence. 
 
 "We sail in the Royal Hind, from Bristol, in about a 
 fortnight," he replied. 
 
 "How many go out in her ; and are there any women ?" 
 
 "No! no!" he returned; "no woman could make the 
 trip ; and, besides, on ships of that sort, half pirate, half 
 merchant, they do not take women. The sailors are su 
 perstitious about it and will not sail with them. They 
 
196 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 say they bring bad luck adverse winds, calms, storms, 
 blackness, monsters from the deep and victorious foes." 
 
 "The ignorant creatures !" cried Mary. 
 
 Brandon continued : "There will be a hundred men, if 
 the captain can induce so many to enlist." 
 
 "How does one procure passage ?" inquired Mary. 
 
 "By enlisting with the captain, a man named Bradhurst, 
 at Bristol, where the ship is now lying. There is where 
 I enlisted by letter. But why do you ask?" 
 
 "Oh! I only wanted to know." 
 
 We talked awhile on various topics, but Mary always 
 brought the conversation back to the same subject, the 
 Royal Hind and New Spain. After asking many ques 
 tions she sat in silence for a time, and then abruptly broke 
 into one of my sentences she was always interrupting 
 me as if I were a parrot. 
 
 "I have been thinking and have made up my mind what 
 I will do, and you shall not dissuade me. I will go to New 
 Spain with you. That will be glorious far better than 
 the humdrum life of sitting at home and will solve the 
 whole question." 
 
 "But that would be impossible, Mary," said Brandon, 
 into whose face this new evidence of her regard had 
 brought a brightening look ; "utterly impossible. To be 
 gin with, no woman could stand the voyage ; not even you, 
 strong and vigorous as you are." 
 
 "Oh, yes I can, and I will not allow you to stop me for 
 that reason. I could bear any hardship better than the 
 torture of the last few weeks. In truth I can not bear this 
 at all ; it is killing me, so what would it be when you are 
 gone and I am the wife of Louis ? Think of that, Charles 
 Brandon; think of that, when I am the wife of Louis. 
 Even if the voyage kills me, I might as well die one way 
 
IK THE SIREN COUNTRY 197 
 
 as another ; and then I should be with you, where it were 
 sweet to die." And I had to sit there and listen to all this 
 foolish talk ! 
 
 Brandon insisted : "But no women are going ; as I told 
 you, they would not take one ; besides, how could you es 
 cape ? I will answer the first question you ever asked me. 
 You are of sufficient consideration about the court for 
 all your movements to attract notice. It is impossible ; we 
 must not think of it ; it can not be done. Why build up 
 hopes only to be cast down?" 
 
 "Oh! but it can be done; never doubt it. I will go, 
 not as a woman, but as a man. I have planned all the 
 details while sitting here. To-mcrrow I will send to Bris 
 tol a sum of money asking a separate room in the ship for 
 a young nobleman who wishes to go to New Spain incog 
 nito, and will go aboard just I. fore they sail. I will buy 
 a man s complete outfit, and v, il practice being a man be 
 fore you and Sir Edwin." tiere she blushed so that I 
 could see the scarlet even in the gathering gloom. She 
 continued : "As to my escape, I can go to Windsor, and 
 then perhaps on to Berkeley Castle, over by Reading, 
 where there will be no one to watch me. You can leave 
 at once, and there will be no cause for them to spy upon 
 me when you are gone, so it can be done easily enough. 
 That is it ; I will go to my sister, who is now at Berkeley 
 Castle, the other side of Reading, you know, and that will 
 make a shorter ride to Bristol when we start." 
 
 The thought, of course, could not but please Brandon, 
 to \vhom, in the warmth of Mary s ardor, it had almost be 
 gun to offer hope ; and he said musingly : "I wonder if 
 it could be done? If it could if we could reach New 
 Spain, we might build ourselves a home in the beautiful 
 green mountains and hide ourselves safely away from all 
 
198 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 the world, in the lap of some cosy valley, rich with nature s 
 bounteous gift of fruit and flowers, shaded from the hot 
 sun and sheltered from the blasts, and live in a little para 
 dise all our own. What a glorious dream ; but it is only 
 a dream, and we had better awake from it." 
 
 Brandon must have been insane ! 
 
 "No ! no ! It is not a dream," interrupted downright, 
 determined Mary ; "it is not a dream ; it shall be a reality. 
 How glorious it will be; I can see our little house now 
 nestling amo^g the hills, shaded by great spreading trees 
 with flowers and vines and golden fruit all about it, rich 
 plumaged birds and gorgeous butterflies. Oh! I can 
 hardly wait. W/io would live in a musty palace when 
 they have witliin reach such a home, and that too with 
 you." 
 
 Here . was again. I thought that interview would be 
 the death of me. 
 
 Brandon held his face in his hands, and then looking up 
 said : "It is only a question of your happiness, and hard as 
 the voyage and your life over there would be, yet I believe 
 it would be better than life with Louis of France ; nothing 
 could be so terrible as that to both of us. If you wish to 
 go, I will try to take you, though I die in the attempt, 
 There will be ample time to reconsider, so that you can 
 turn back if you wish." 
 
 Her reply was inarticulate, though satisfactory; and she 
 took his hand in hers as the tears ran gently down her 
 cheeks ; this time tears of joy the first she had shed for 
 many a day. 
 
 In the Siren country again without wax! Overboard 
 and lost ! 
 
 Yes, Brandon s resolution not to see Mary was well- 
 taken, if it could only have been as well kept. Observe,, 
 
IN THE SIREN COUNTRY 199 
 
 as we progress, into what the breaking of it led him. 
 
 He had known that if he should but see her once more, 
 his already toppling will would lose its equipoise, and 
 he would be led to attempt the impossible and invite de 
 struction. At first this scheme appeared to me in its true 
 light, but Mary s subtle feminine logic made it seem such 
 plain and easy sailing that I soon began to draw enthusi 
 asm from her exhaustless store, and our combined attack 
 upon Brandon eventually routed every vestige of caution 
 and common sense that even he had left. 
 
 Siren logic has always been irresistible and will con 
 tinue so, no doubt, despite experience. 
 
 I can not define what it was about Alary that made her 
 little speeches, half argumentative, all-pleading, so won 
 derfully persuasive. Her facts were mere fancies, and 
 her logic was not even good sophistry. As to real argu 
 ment and reasoning there was nothing of either in them. 
 It must have been her native strength of character and 
 intensely vigorous personality ; some unknown force of na 
 ture, operating through her occultly, that turned the chan 
 nels of other persons thoughts and filled them with her 
 own will. There was magic in her power, I am certain, 
 but unconscious magic to Alan , I am equally sure. She 
 never would have used it knowingly. 
 
 There was still another obstacle to which Alary admin 
 istered her favorite remedy, the Gordian knot treatment. 
 Brandon said : "It can not be ; you are not my wife, and 
 we dare not trust a priest here to unite us." 
 
 "Xo ;" replied Alary, w T ith hanging head, "but we can 
 can find one over there." 
 
 "I do not know how that will be; we shall probably 
 not find one ; at least, I fear ; I do not know." 
 
 After a little hesitation she answered : "I will go with 
 
200 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 you any way and and risk it. I hope we may find a 
 priest," and she flushed scarlet from her throat to her 
 hair. 
 
 Brandon kissed her and said : "You shall go, my brave 
 girl. You make me blush for my faint-heartedness and 
 prudence. I will make you my wife in some way as sure 
 as there is a God." 
 
 Soon after this Brandon forced himself to insist on her 
 departure, and I went with her full of hope and completely 
 blinded to the dangers of our cherished scheme. I think 
 Brandon never really lost sight of the danger, and almost 
 infinite proportion of chance against this wild, reckless 
 venture, but was daring enough to attempt it even in the 
 face of such clearly seen and deadly consequences. 
 
 What seems to be bravery, as in Mary s case, for exam 
 ple, is often but a lack of perception of the real danger. 
 True bravery is that which dares a danger fully seeing it. 
 A coward may face an unseen danger, and his act may 
 shine with the lustre of genuine heroism. Mary was 
 brave, but it was the feminine bravery that did not see. 
 Show her a danger and she was womanly enough that is 
 if you could make her see it. Her willfulness sometimes 
 extended to her mental vision and she would not see. In 
 common with many others she needed mental spectacles 
 at timeSo 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 TO MAKE A MAN OF HER 
 
 So it was all arranged, and I converted part of Mary s 
 jewels into money. She said she was sorry now she had 
 not taken de Longueville s diamonds, as they would have 
 added to her treasure ; I, however, procured quite a large 
 sum, to which I secretly added a goodly portion out of my 
 own store. At Mary s request I sent part to Bradhurst at 
 Bristol, and retained the rest for Brandon to take with 
 him. 
 
 A favorable answer soon came from Bristol, giving the 
 young nobleman a separate room in consideration of the 
 large purse he had sent. 
 
 The next step was to procure the gentleman s wardrobe 
 for Mary. This was a little troublesome at first, for, of 
 course, she could not be measured in the regular way. We 
 managed to overcome this difficulty by having Jane take 
 the measurements under instructions received from the 
 tailor, which measurements, together with the cloth, I took 
 to the fractional little man who did my work. 
 
 He looked at the measurements with twinkling eyes, and 
 remarked: "Sir Edwin, that be the curiousest shaped 
 man ever I see the measures of. Sure it would make a 
 mighty handsome woman, or I know nothing of human 
 dimensions." 
 
 "Never you mind about dimensions ; make the garments 
 as they are ordered and keep your mouth shut, if you 
 know what is to your interest. Do you hear?" 
 
202 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 He delivered himself of a labored wink. "I do hear 
 and understand too, and my tongue is like the tongue of an 
 obelisk." 
 
 In due time I brought the suits to Mary, and they were 
 soon adjusted to her liking. 
 
 The days passed rapidly, till it was a matter of less than 
 a fortnight until the Royal Hind would sail, and it really 
 looked as if the adventure might turn out to our desire. 
 
 Jane was in tribulation, and thought she ought to be 
 taken along. This, you may be sure, was touching me 
 very closely, and I began to wish the whole infernal mess 
 at the bottom of the sea. If Jane went, his august maj 
 esty, King Henry VIII, would be without a Master of 
 Dance, just as sure as the stars twinkled in the firmament. 
 It was, however, soon decided that Brandon would have 
 his hands more than full to get off with one woman, and 
 that two would surely spoil the plan. So Jane was to be 
 left behind, full of tribulation and indignation, firmly con 
 vinced that she was being treated very badly. 
 
 Although at first Jane was violently opposed to the 
 scheme, she soon caught the contagious ardor of Mary s 
 enthusiasm, and knowing that her dear lady s every chance 
 of happiness was staked upon the throw, grew more rec 
 onciled. To a person of Jane s age, this venture for love 
 offers itself as the last and only cast the cast for all 
 and in this particular case there was enough of romance 
 to catch the fancy of any girl. Nothing was lacking to 
 make it truly romantic. The exalted station of at least 
 one of the lovers ; the rough road of their true love ; the 
 elopement, and, above all, the elopement to a new world, 
 with a cosy hut nestling in fragrant shades and glad with 
 the notes of love from the throats of countless song-birds 
 what more could a romantic girl desire? So, to my 
 
TO MAKE A MAN OF HER 203 
 
 surprise, Jane became more than reconciled, and her fever 
 of anticipation and excitement grew apace with Mary s 
 as the time drew on. 
 
 Mary s vanity was delighted with her elopement trous 
 seau, for of course it must be of the finest. Not that the 
 quality was any better than her own, but the doublet and 
 hose showed so differently on her. She paraded for an 
 hour or so before Jane, and as she became accustomed 
 to the new garb, and as the steel reflected a most beautiful 
 image, she determined to show herself to Brandon and me. 
 She said she wanted to become accustomed to being seen 
 in her doublet and hose, and would begin with us. She 
 thought if she could not bear our gaze she should surely 
 make a dismal failure on shipboard among so many 
 strange men. There was some good reasoning in this, 
 and it, together with her vanity, overruled her modesty, 
 and prompted her to come to see us in her character of 
 young nobleman. Jane made one of her mighty protests, 
 so infinitely disproportionate in size to her little ladyship, 
 but the self-willed princess would not listen to her, and 
 was for coming alone if Jane would not come with her. 
 Once having determined, as usual with her, she wasted no 
 time about it, but throwing a long cloak over her shoul 
 ders started for our rooms with angry, \veeping, protest 
 ing Jane at her heels. 
 
 When I heard the knock I was sure it was the girls, for 
 though Mary had promised Brandon she would not, un 
 der any circumstances, attempt another visit, I knew so 
 well her utter inability to combat her desire, and her reck 
 less disregard of danger where there was a motive suffi 
 cient to furnish the nerve tension, that I was sure she 
 would come, or try to come, again. 
 
 I have spoken before about the quality of bravery. 
 
204 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 What is it, after all, and how can we analyze it? Wom 
 en, we say, are cowardly, but I have seen a woman take 
 a risk that the bravest man s nerve would turn on edge 
 against. How is it? Can it be possible that they are 
 braver than we? That our bravery is of the vaunting 
 kind that telleth of itself? My answer, made up from a 
 long life of observation, is: "Yes! Given the motive, 
 and a woman is the bravest creature on earth." Yet how 
 foolishly timid they are at times ! 
 
 I admitted the girls, and when the door was shut Mary 
 unclasped the bropcli at her throat and the great cloak fell 
 at her heel^~Out she stepped, with a little laugh of de- 
 light^efethed in doublet, hose, and confusion the pretti 
 est picture mortal eyes ever rested on. Her hat, some 
 thing on the broad, flat style with a single white plume en 
 circling the crown, was of purple velvet trimmed in gold 
 braid and touched here and there with precious stones. 
 Her doublet was of the same purple velvet as her hat, 
 trimmed in lace and gold braid. Her short trunks were 
 of heavy black silk slashed by yellow satin, with hose of 
 lavender silk; and her little shoes were of russet French 
 leather. Quite a rainbow you will say but such a rain 
 bow! 
 
 Brandon and I were struck dumb with admiration and 
 could not keep from showing it. This disconcerted the 
 girl, and increased her embarrassment until we could not 
 tell which was the prettiest the garments, the girl or the 
 confusion ; but this I know, the whole picture was as sweet 
 and beautiful as the eyes of man could behold. 
 
 Fine feathers will not make fine birds, and Mary s mas 
 culine attire could no more make her look like a man than 
 harness can disguise the graces of a gazelle. Nothing 
 could conceal her intense, exquisite womanhood. With 
 
TO MAKE A MAN OF HER 205 
 
 our looks of astonishment and admiration Mary s blushes 
 deepened. 
 
 "What is the matter? Is anything wrong?" she asked. 
 
 "Nothing is wrong," answered Brandon, smiling in 
 spite of himself; "nothing on earth is wrong with you, 
 you may be sure. You are perfect that is, for a woman ; 
 and one who thinks there is anything wrong about a per 
 fect woman is hard to please. But if you flatter yourself 
 that you, in any way, resemble a man, or that your dress 
 in the faintest degree conceals your sex, you are mis 
 taken. It makes it only more apparent." 
 
 "How can that be?" asked Mary, in comical tribulation ; 
 "is not this a man s doublet and hose, and this hat is 
 it not a man s hat? They are all for a man; then why 
 do I not look like one, I ask? Tell me what is wrong. 
 Oh ! I thought I looked just like a man; I thought the dis 
 guise was perfect." 
 
 "Well," returned Brandon, "if you will permit me to 
 say so, you are entirely too symmetrical and shapely ever 
 to pass for a man." 
 
 The flaming color was in her cheeks, as Brandon went 
 on: "Your feet are too small, even for a boy s feet. I 
 don t think you could be made to look like a man if you 
 worked from now till doomsday." 
 
 Brandon spoke in a troubled tone, for he was beginning 
 to see in Mary s perfect and irrepressible womanhood an 
 insurmountable difficulty right across his path. 
 
 "As to your feet, you might find larger shoes, or, better 
 still, jack-boots; and, as to your hose, you might wear 
 longer trunks, but what to do about the doublet I am sure I 
 do not know." 
 
 Mary looked up helpless and forlorn, and the hot face 
 
806 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 went into her bended elbow as a realization of the situation 
 seemed to dawn upon her, 
 
 "Oh ! I wish I had not come. But I wanted to grow 
 accustomed so that I could wear them before others. I be 
 lieve I could bear it more easily with any one else. I did 
 not think of it in that way," and she snatched her cloak 
 from where it had fallen on the floor and threw it around 
 her. 
 
 "What way, Mary ?" asked Brandon gently, and receiv 
 ing no answer. "But you will have to bear my looking at 
 you all the time if you go with me." 
 
 * I don t believe I can do it." 
 
 "No, no," answered he, bravely attempting cheerful 
 ness; "we may as well give it up. I have had no hope 
 from the first. I knew it could not be done, and it should 
 not. I was both insane and criminal to think of permitting 
 i you to try it." 
 
 Brandon s forced cheerfulness died out with his words, 
 and he sank into a chair with his elbows on his knees and 
 his face in his hands. Mary ran to him at once. There 
 had been a little moment of faltering, but there was no real 
 surrender in her. 
 
 Dropping on her knee beside him, she said coaxingly : 
 "Don t give up ; you are a man ; you must not surrender, 
 and let me, a girl, prove the stronger. Shame upon you 
 when I look up to you so much and expect you to help me 
 be brave. I k will go. I will arrange myself in some way 
 Oh ! why am I not different ; I wish I were as straight as 
 the queen," and for that first time in her life she bewailed 
 her beauty, because it stood between her and Brandon. 
 
 She soon coaxed him out of his despondency, and we 
 began again to plan the matter in detail 
 
TO MAKE A MAN OF HER 207 
 
 The girls sat on Brandon s cloak and he and I on the 
 camp-stool and a box. 
 
 Mary s time was well occupied in vain attempts to 
 keep herself covered with the cloak, which seemed to have 
 a right good will toward Brandon and me, but she kept 
 track of our plans, which, in brief, were as follows : As to 
 her costume, we would substitute long trunks and jack 
 boots for shoes and hose and as to the doublet, Mary 
 laughed and blushingly said she had a plan which she 
 would secretly impart to Jane, but would not tell us. She 
 whispered it to Jane, who, as serious as the Lord Chan 
 cellor, gave judgment, and "thought it would do." We 
 hoped so, but were full of doubts. 
 
 This is all tame enough to write and read about, but I 
 can tell you it was sufficiently exciting at the time. 
 Three of us at least were playing with that comical old 
 fellow, Death, and he gave the game interest and point to 
 our heart s content. 
 
 Through the thick time-layers of all these years, I can 
 still see the group as we sat there, haloed by a hazy cloud 
 of tear-mist. The figures rise before my eyes, so young 
 and fair and rich in life and yet so pathetic in their trou 
 bled earnestness that a great flood of pity wells up in my 
 heart for the poor young souls, so danger-bound and suf 
 fering, and withal so daring and so recklessly confident in 
 the might and right of love, and the omnipotence of youth. 
 Ah ! If God had see*; fit in his infinite wisdom to save just 
 one treasure from the wreck of Eden, what a race of 
 thankful hearts this earth would bear, had he saved us 
 youth alone to thereby compensate for every other ill. 
 
 As to the elopement, it was determined that Brandon 
 should leave London the following day for Bristol, and 
 make all arrangements along the line. He would carry 
 
208 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 with him two bundles, his own and Mary s clothing, and 
 leave them to be taken up when they should go a-ship- 
 board. Eight horses would be procured ; four to be left 
 as a relay at an inn between Berkeley Castle and Bristol, 
 and four to be kept at the rendezvous some two leagues the 
 other side of Berkeley for the use of Brandon, Mary and 
 the two men from Bristol who were to act as an escort on 
 the eventful night. There was one disagreeable little feature 
 that we could not provide against nor entirely eliminate. 
 It was the fact that Jane and I would be suspected as ac 
 complices before the fact of Mary s elopement; and, as 
 you know, to assist in the abduction of a princess is trea 
 son for which there is but one remedy. I thought I had 
 a plan to keep ourselves safe if I could only stifle for the 
 once Jane s troublesome and vigorous tendency to preach 
 the truth to all people, upon all subjects and at all times 
 and places. She promised to tell the story I would drill 
 into her, but I knew the truth would seep out in a thou 
 sand ways. She could no more hold it than a sieve can 
 hold water. We were playing for great stakes, which, if 
 I do say it, none but the bravest hearts, bold and daring 
 as the truest knights of chivalry, would think of trying for. 
 Nothing less than the running away with the first princess 
 of the first blood royal of the world. Think of it ! It ap 
 palls me even now. Discovery meant death to one of us 
 surely Brandon ; possibly to two others Jane and me ; 
 certainly, if Jane s truthfulness should become unmanage 
 able, as it was so apt to do. 
 
 After we had settled everything we could think of, the 
 girls took their leave ; Mary slyly kissing Brandon at the 
 door. I tried to induce Jane to follow her lady s example, 
 but she was as cool and distant as the new moon. 
 
 I saw Jane again that night and told her in plain terms 
 
TO MAKE A MAN OF HER 209 
 
 what I thought of her treatment of me. I told her it was 
 selfish and unkind to take advantage of my love for her 
 and treat me so cruelly. I told her that if she had one drop 
 of generous blood she would tell me of her love, if she had 
 any, or let me know it in some way ; and if she cared noth 
 ing for me she was equally bound to be honest and tell me 
 plainly, so that I would not waste my time and energy in 
 a hopeless cause. I thought it rather clever in me to force 
 her into a position where her refusal to tell me that she did 
 not care for me, would drive her to a half avowal. Of 
 course, I had little fear of the former, or perhaps, I should 
 not have been so anxious to precipitate the issue. 
 
 She did not answer me directly, but said: "From the 
 way you looked at Mary to-day, I was led to think you 
 cared little for any other girl s opinion." 
 
 "Ah! Miss Jane!" cried I joyfully; "I have you at 
 last; you are jealous." 
 
 "I give you to understand, sir, that your vanity has led 
 you into a great mistake." 
 
 "As to your caring for me, or your jealousy? Which?" 
 I asked seriously. Adroit, wasn t that? 
 
 "As to the jealousy, Edwin. There, now ; I think that 
 is saying a good deal. Too much," she said pleadingly ; 
 but I got something more before she left, even if it was 
 against her will ; something that made it almost impossi 
 ble for me to hold my feet to the ground. 
 
 Jane pouted, gave me a sharp little slap and then ran 
 away, but at the door she turned and threw back a rare 
 smile that was priceless to me ; for it told me she was not 
 angry ; and furthermore shed an illuminating ray upon a 
 lact which I was blind not to have seen long before ; that 
 is, that Jane was one of those girls who must be captured 
 ^i et armis 
 
 14 
 
210 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Some women can not be captured at all ; they must give 
 themselves ; of this class pre-eminently was Mary. Others 
 again will meet you half way and kindly lend a helping 
 hand ; while some, like Jane, are always on the run, and 
 are captured only by pursuit. They are usually well 
 worth the trouble though, and make docile captives. After 
 that smile from the door I felt that Jane was mine; all 
 I had to do was to keep off outside enemies, charge upon 
 her defenses when the times were ripe and accept nothing 
 short of her own sweet self as ransom. 
 
 The next day Brandon paid his respects to the king and 
 queen, made his adieus to his friends and rode off alone to 
 Bristol. You may be sure the king showed no signs of 
 undue grief at his departure. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A HAWKING PARTY 
 
 A few days after Brandon s departure, Mary, with the 
 king s consent, organized a small party to go over to 
 Windsor for a few weeks during the warm weather. 
 
 There were ten or twelve of us, including two chaper 
 ons, the old Earl of Hertford and the dowager Duchess 
 of Kent. Henry might as well have sent along a pair of 
 spaniels to act as chaperons it would have taken an 
 army to guard Mary alone and to tell you the truth our 
 old chaperons needed watching more than any of us. It 
 was scandalous. Each of them had a touch of the gout, 
 and when they made wry faces it was a standing inquiry 
 among us whether they were leering at each other or felt 
 a twinge whether it was their feet or their hearts, that 
 troubled them. 
 
 Mary led them a pretty life at all times, even at home 
 in the palace, and I know they would rather have gone off 
 with a pack of imps than with us. The inducement was 
 that it gave them better opportunities to be together an 
 arrangement connived at by the queen, I think and they 
 were satisfied. The earl had a wife, but he fancied the 
 old dowager and she fancied him, and probably the w r ife 
 fancied somebody else, so they were all happy. It greatly 
 amused the young people, you may be sure, and Mary 
 said, probably without telling the exact truth, that every 
 night she prayed God to pity and forgive their ugliness. 
 One day the princess said she was becoming alarmed; 
 
 (211) 
 
212 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 their ugliness was so intense she feared it might be con 
 tagious and spread. Then, with a most comical serious 
 ness, she added: 
 
 "Mon Dieu! Sir Edwin, what if I should catch it? 
 Master Charles would not take me." 
 
 "No danger of that my lady ; he is too devoted to see 
 anything but beauty in you, no matter how much you 
 might change." 
 
 "Do you really think so? He says so little about it 
 that sometimes I almost doubt." 
 
 Therein she spoke the secret of Brandon s success 
 with her, at least in the beginning ; for there is wonderful 
 potency in the stimulus of a healthy little doubt. 
 
 We had a delightful canter over to Windsor, I riding 
 with Mary most of the way. I was not averse to this ar 
 rangement, as I not only relished Mary s mirth and joy- 
 ousness, which was at its height, but hoped I might give 
 my little Lady Jane a twinge or two of jealousy perchance 
 to fertilize her sentiments toward me. 
 
 Mary talked, and laughed, and sang, for her soul was a 
 fountain of gladness that bubbled up the instant pressure 
 was removed. She spoke of little but our last trip over 
 this same road, and, as we passed objects on the way, told 
 me of what Brandon had said at this place and that, She 
 laughed and dimpled exquisitely in relating how she had 
 deliberately made opportunities for him to flatter her, 
 until, at last, he smiled in her face and told her she war 
 the most beautiful creature living, but that "after all, 
 beauty was as beauty did ! J: 
 
 "That made me angry," said she. "I pouted for a 
 while, and, two or three times, was on the point of dis 
 missing him, but thought better of it and asked him plainly 
 
A HAWKING PARTY 213 
 
 wherein I did so much amiss. Then what do you think 
 the impudent fellow said?" 
 
 "I can not guess." 
 
 " He said : Oh, there is so much it would take a life 
 time to tell it. 
 
 "This made me furious, but I could not answer, and a 
 moment later he said : Nevertheless I should be only too 
 glad to undertake the task/ 
 
 "The thought never occurred to either of us then that 
 he would be taken at his word. Bold ? I should think he 
 was ; I never saw anything like it ! I have not told you a 
 tenth part of what he said to me that day ; he said anything 
 he wished, and it seemed that I could neither stop him nor 
 retaliate. Half the time I was angry and half the time 
 amused, but by the time we reached Windsor there never 
 was a girl more hopelessly and desperately in love than 
 Mary Tudor." And she laughed as if it were a huge joke 
 on Mary. 
 
 She continued : "That day settled matters with me for 
 all time. I don t know how he did it. Yes I do . . . . " 
 and she launched forth into an account of Brandon s per 
 fections, which I found somewhat dull, and so would you. 
 
 We remained a day or two at Windsor, and then, over 
 the objections of our chaperons, moved on to Berkeley 
 Castle, where Margaret of Scotland was spending the 
 summer. 
 
 We had another beautiful ride up the dear old Thames 
 to Berkeley, but Mary had grown serious and saw T none 
 of it. 
 
 On the afternoon of the appointed day, the princess sug 
 gested a hawking party, and we set out in the direction of 
 the rendezvous. Our party consisted of myself, three 
 other gentlemen and three ladies besides Mary, Jane did 
 
214 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 not go ; I was afraid to trust her. She wept, and, with 
 difficulty, forced herself to say something about a head 
 ache, but the rest of the inmates of the castle of course had 
 no thought that possibly they were taking their last look 
 upon Mary Tudor. 
 
 Think who this girl was we were running away with ! 
 What reckless fools we were not to have seen the utter 
 hopelessness, certain failure, and deadly peril of our act ; 
 treason black as Plutonian midnight. But Providence 
 seems to have an especial care for fools, while wise men 
 are left to care for themselves, and it does look as if safety 
 lies in folly. 
 
 We rode on and on, and although I took two occasions, 
 in the presence of others, to urge Mary to return, owing 
 to the approach of night and threatened rain, she took her 
 own head, as everybody knew she always would, and con 
 tinued the hunt. 
 
 Just before dark, as we neared the rendezvous, Mary 
 and I managed to ride ahead of the party quite a distance. 
 At last we saw a heron rise, and the princess uncapped 
 her hawk. 
 
 "This is my chance," she said; "I will run away from 
 you now and lose myself ; keep them off my track for five 
 minutes and I shall be safe. Good-bye, Edwin ; you and 
 Jane are the only persons I regret to leave. I love you 
 as my brother and sister. When we are settled in New 
 Spain we will have you both come to us. Now, Edwin, 
 I shall tell you something: don t let Jane put you off 
 any longer. She loves you ; she told me so. There ! Good 
 bye, my friend ; kiss her a thousand times for me." And 
 she flew her bird and galloped after it at headlong speed. 
 
 As I saw the beautiful young form receding from me, 
 perhaps forever, the tears stood in mv eyes, while T 
 
A HAWKING PARTY 215 
 
 thought of the strong heart that so unfalteringly braved 
 such dangers and was so loyal to itself and daring for its 
 love. She had shown a little feverish excitement for a 
 day or two, but it was the fever of anticipation, not of 
 fear or hesitancy. 
 
 Soon the princess was out of sight, and I waited for the 
 others to overtake me. When they came up I was greeted 
 in chorus : "Where is the princess?" I said she had gone 
 off with her hawk, and had left me to bring them after her. 
 I held them talking while I could, and when we started to 
 follow took up the wrong scent. A short ride made this 
 apparent, when I came in for my full share of abuse and 
 ridicule, for I had led them against their judgment. I 
 was credited with being a blockhead, when in fact they 
 were the dupes. 
 
 We rode hurriedly back to the point of Mary s depart 
 ure and wound our horns lustily, but my object had been 
 accomplished, and I knew that within twenty minutes from 
 the time I last saw her, she would be with Brandon, on 
 the road to Bristol, gaining on any pursuit we could make 
 at the rate of three miles for two. We scoured the for 
 est far and near, but of course found no trace, After a 
 time rain set in and one of the gentlemen escorted the 
 ladies home, while three of us remained to prowl about 
 the woods and roads all night in a soaking drizzle. The 
 task was tiresome enough for me, as it lacked motive; 
 and when we rode into Berkeley Castle next day, a sorrier 
 set of bedraggled, rain-stained, mud-covered knights you 
 never saw. You may know the castle was wild with ex 
 citement. There were all sorts of conjectures, but soon 
 we unanimously concluded it had been the work of high 
 waymen, of whom the country was full, and by whom the 
 princess had certainly been abducted* 
 
210 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 The chaperons forgot their gout and each other, and 
 Jane, who was the most affected of all, had a genuine ex 
 cuse for giving vent to her grief and went to bed by far 
 the safest place for her. 
 
 What was to be done? First we sent a message to the 
 king, who would probably have us all flayed alive a fear 
 in which the chaperons shared to the fullest extent. Next, 
 an armed party rode back to look again for Mary, and, if 
 possible, rescue her. 
 
 The fact that I had been out the entire night before, 
 together with the small repute in which I was held for 
 deeds of arms, excused me from taking part in this boot 
 less errand, so again I profited by the small esteem in 
 which I was held. I say I profited, for I stayed at the 
 castle with Jane, hoping to find my opportunity in the 
 absence of everybody else. All the ladies but Jane had 
 ridden out, and the knights who had been with me scour 
 ing the forest were sleeping, since they had not my in 
 centive to remain awake. They had no message to deliver ; 
 no duty to perform for an absent friend. A thousand! 
 Only think of it ! I wished it had been a million, and 
 so faithful was I to my trust that I swore in my soul I 
 would deliver them, every one. 
 
 And Jane loved me! No more walking on the hard, 
 prosaic earth now ; from this time forth I would fly ; that 
 was the only sensible method of locomotion. Mary had 
 said: "She told me so." Could it really be true? You 
 will at once see what an advantage this bit of information 
 was to me. 
 
 I hoped that Jane would wish to see me to talk over 
 Mary s escape so I sent word to her that I was w r aiting, 
 and she quickly enough recovered her health and came 
 down. I suggested that we walk out to a secluded little 
 
A HAWKING PARTY 217 
 
 summer-house by the river, and Jane was willing. Ah! 
 my opportunity was here at last. 
 
 She found her bonnet, and out we went. What an en 
 chanting walk was that, and how rich is a man who has 
 laid up such treasures of memory to grow the sweeter as 
 he feeds upon them. A rich memory is better than hope, 
 for it lasts after fruition, and serves us at a time when 
 hope has failed and fruition is but a memory. Ah ! how 
 we cherish it in our hearts, and how it comes at our beck 
 and call to thrill us through and through and make us 
 thank God that we have lived, and wonder in our hearts 
 why he has given poor undeserving us so much. 
 
 After we arrived at the summer-house, Jane listened, 
 half the time in tears, while I told her all about Mary s 
 flight. 
 
 Shall I ever forget that summer day? A sweet briar 
 entwined our enchanted bower, and, when I catch its scent 
 even now, time-vaulting memory carries me back, making 
 years seem as days, and I see it all as I saw the light of 
 noon that moment and all was Jane. The softly lapping 
 river, as it gently sought the sea, sang in soothing cadence 
 of naught but Jane ; the south wind from his flowery home 
 breathed zephyr-voiced her name again, and, as it stirred 
 the rustling leaves on bush and tree, they wliispered back 
 the same sweet strain ; and every fairy voice found its echo 
 in my soul ; for there it was as twas with me, "J ane ! 
 Jane ! Jane !" I have heard men say they would not live 
 their lives over and take its meager grains of happiness, 
 in such infinite disproportion to its grief and pain, but, 
 as for me, thanks to one woman, I almost have the min 
 utes numbered all along the way, and know them one from 
 the other ; and when I sit alone to dream, and live again 
 some portion of the happy past, I hardly know what time 
 
218 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 t>> choose or incident to dwell upon, my life is so much 
 crowded with them all. Would I live again my life? 
 Aye, every moment except perhaps when Jane was ill 
 and therein even was happiness, for what a joy there was 
 at her recovery. I do not even regret that it is closing ; it 
 would be ungrateful ; I have had so much more than my 
 share that I simply fall upon my knees and thank God for 
 what He has given. 
 
 Jane s whole attitude toward me was changed, and she 
 seemed to cling to me in a shy, unconscious manner, that 
 was sweet beyond the naming, as the one solace for all her 
 grief. 
 
 After I had answered all her questions, and had told her 
 over and over again every detail of Mary s flight, and had 
 assured her that the princess was, at that hour, breasting 
 the waves with Brandon, on their high road to paradise, I 
 thought it time to start myself in the same direction and 
 to say a word in my own behalf. So I spoke very freely 
 and told Jane what I felt and what I wanted. 
 
 "Oh ! Sir Edwin," she responded, "let us not think of 
 anything but my mistress. Think of the trouble she is in." 
 
 "No ! no ! Jane ; Lady Mary is out of her trouble by 
 now, and is as happy as a lark, you may be sure. Has she 
 not won everything her heart longed for? Then let us 
 make our own paradise, since w r e have helped them make 
 theirs. You have it, Jane, just within your lips; speak 
 the word and it will change everything if you love me, 
 and I know you do." 
 
 Jane s head was bowed and she remained silent. 
 
 Then I told her of Lady Mary s message, and begged, if 
 she would not speak in words what I so longed to hear, 
 she would at least tell it by allowing me to deliver only one 
 little thousandth part of the message Mary had sent ; but 
 
. . . I DELIVERED THE REST OF 
 MARY S MESSAGE." 
 
A HAWKING PARTY 219 
 
 she drew away and said she would return to the castle if I 
 continued to behave in that manner. I begged hard, and 
 tried to argue the point, but logic seems to lose its force in 
 such a situation, and all I said availed nothing. Jane was 
 obdurate, and was for going back at once. Her persist 
 ency was beginning to look like obstinacy, and I soon 
 grew so angry that I asked no permission, but delivered 
 Mary s message, or a good part of it, at least, whether she 
 would or no, and then sat back and asked her what she 
 was going to do about it. 
 
 Poor little Jane thought she was undone for life. She 
 sat there half pouting, half weeping, and said she could do 
 nothing about it; that she was alone now, and if I, her 
 only friend, would treat her that way, she did not know 
 where to look. 
 
 Where to look ?" I demanded. "Look here, Jane, here ; 
 you might as well understand, first as last, that I will not 
 be trifled with longer, and that I intend to continue treat 
 ing you that way as long as we both live. I have deter 
 mined not to permit you to behave as you have for so long ; 
 for I know you love me. You have half told me so a 
 dozen times, and even your half words are whole truths ; 
 there is not a fraction of a lie in you. Besides, Mary told 
 me that you told her so." 
 
 "She did not tell you that?" 
 
 "Yes ; upon my knightly honor." Of course there was 
 but one answer to this tears. I then brought the battle 
 to close quarters at once, and, with my arm uninterrupted 
 at my lady s waist, asked: 
 
 "Did you not tell her so ? I know you will speak noth 
 ing but the truth. Did you not tell her? Answer me, 
 Jane." The fair head nodded as she whispered between 
 the hands that covered her face : 
 
220 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 "Yes ; I I d-did ;" and I well, I delivered the rest 
 of Mary s message, and that, too, without a protest from 
 Jane. 
 
 Truthfulness is a pretty good thing after all. 
 
 So Jane was conquered at last, and I heaved a sigh as 
 the battle ended, for it had been a long, hard struggle. 
 
 I asked Jane when we should be married, but she said 
 she could not think of that now not until she knew that 
 Mary was safe; but she would promise to be my wife 
 sometime. I told her that her word w r as as good as gold 
 to me; and so it was and always has been; as good as 
 fine gold thrice refined. I then told her I would bother 
 her no more about it, now that I was sure of her, but when 
 she was ready she should tell me of her own accord and 
 make my happiness complete. She said she would, and I 
 told her I believed her and was satisfied. I did, however, 
 suggest that the intervening time would be worse than 
 wasted happiness thrown right in the face of Providence, 
 as it were and begged her not to waste any more than 
 necessary ; to which she seriously and honestly answered 
 that she would not. 
 
 We went back to the castle, and as we parted Jane said 
 timidly : "I am glad I told you, Edwin ; glad it is over." 
 
 She had evidently dreaded it; but I _was glad, JQQ ; 
 right glad. Then I went to bed. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE ELOPEMENT 
 
 Whatever the king might think, I knew Lord Wolsey 
 would quickly enough guess the truth when he heard that 
 the princess was missing, and would have a party in pur 
 suit. The runaways, however, would have at least twenty- 
 four hours the start, and a ship leaves no tracks. When 
 Mary left me she was perhaps two-thirds of a league from 
 the rendezvous, and night was rapidly falling. As her road 
 lay through a dense forest all the way, she would have a 
 dark, lonely ride of a few minutes, and I was somewhat 
 uneasy for that part of the journey. It had been agreed 
 that if everything was all right at the rendezvous, Mary 
 should turn loose her horse, which had always been sta 
 bled at Berkeley Castle and would quickly trot home. To 
 further emphasize her safety a thread would be tied in his 
 forelock. The horse took his time in returning, and did 
 not arrive until the second morning after the flight, but 
 when he came I found the thread, and, unobserved, re 
 moved it. I quickly took it to Jane, who has it yet, and 
 cherishes it for the mute message of comfort it brought 
 her. In case the horse should not return, I was to find a 
 token in a hollow tree near the place of meeting ; but the 
 thread in the forelock told us our friends had found each 
 other. 
 
 \Vhen we left the castle, Mary wore under her riding 
 habit a suit of man s attire, and, as we rode along, she 
 would shrug her shoulders and laugh as if it were a huge 
 
 (221) 
 
222 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWEK 
 
 joke ; and by the most comical little pantomime, call my 
 attention to her unusual bulk. So, when she found Bran 
 don, the only change necessary to make a man of her was 
 to throw off the riding habit and pull on the jack-boots 
 and slouch hat, both of which Brandon had with him. 
 
 They wasted no time you may be sure, and were soon 
 under way. In a few minutes they picked up the two 
 Bristol men who were to accompany them, and, when 
 night had fairly fallen, left the by-paths and took to the 
 main road leading from London to Bath and Bristol. The 
 road was a fair one ; that is, it was well defined and there 
 was no danger of losing it ; in fact, there was more dan 
 ger of losing one s self in its fathomless mud-holes and 
 quagmires. Brandon had recently passed over it twice, 
 and had made mental note of the worst places, so he hoped 
 to avoid them. 
 
 Soon the rain began to fall in a soaking drizzle; then 
 the lamps of twilight went out, and even the shadows of 
 the night were lost among themselves in blinding dark 
 ness. It was one of those black nights fit for witch travel 
 ing ; and, no doubt, every witch in England was out brew 
 ing mischief. The horses hoofs sucked and splashed in 
 the mud with a sound that Mary thought might be heard 
 at Land s End ; and the hoot of an owl, now and then dis 
 turbed by a witch, would strike upon her ear with a vol 
 ume of sound infinitely disproportionate to the size of any 
 owl she had ever seen or dreamed of before. 
 
 Brandon wore our cushion, the great cloak, and had pro 
 vided a like one of suitable proportions for the princess. 
 This came in good play, as her fine gentleman s attire 
 would be but poor stuff to turn the water. The wind, 
 which had arisen with just enough force to set up a 
 dismal wail, gave the rain a horizontal slant and drove 
 
. . . ONE OF THOSE 
 BLACK NIGHTS FIT 
 FOR WITCH TRAVELING. 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 223 
 
 it in at every opening. The flaps of the comfortable 
 great cloak blew back from Mary s knees, and she felt 
 many a chilling drop through her fine new silk trunks that 
 made her wish for buckram in their place. Soon the water 
 began to trickle down her legs and find lodgment in the 
 jack-boots, and as the rain and wind came in tremulous lit 
 tle whirrs, she felt wretched enough she who had always 
 been so well sheltered from every blast. Now and then 
 mud and water would fly up into her face striking usu 
 ally in the eyes or mouth and then again her horse would 
 stumble and almost throw her over his head, as he sunk, 
 knee deep, into some unexpected hole. All of this, with 
 the thousand and one noises that broke the still worse 
 silence of the inky night soon began to work upon her 
 nerves and make her fearful. The road was full of dan 
 gers aside from stumbling horses and broken necks, for 
 many were the stories of murder and robbery committed 
 along the route they were traveling. It is true they had 
 two stout men, and all were armed, yet they might easily 
 come upon a party too strong for them ; and no one could 
 tell what might happen, thought the princess. There was 
 that pitchy darkness through which she could hardly see 
 her horse s head a thing of itself that seemed to have in 
 finite powers for mischief, and which no amount of argu 
 ment ever induced any normally constituted woman to be 
 lieve was the mere negative absence of light, and not a 
 terrible entity potent for all sorts of mischief. Then that 
 wailing howl that rose and fell betimes; no wind ever 
 made such a noise she felt sure. There were those shining 
 white gleams which came from the little pools of water 
 on the road, looking like dead men s faces upturned and 
 pale ; perhaps they were water and perhaps they were not. 
 Mary had all confidence in Brandon, but that very fact 
 
224 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 operated against her. Having that confidence and trust in 
 him, she felt no need to waste her own energy in being 
 brave; so she relaxed completely, and had the feminine 
 satisfaction of allowing herself to be thoroughly fright 
 ened. 
 
 Is it any wonder Mary s gallant but womanly spirit 
 sunk low in the face of all those terrors? She held out 
 bravely, however, and an occasional clasp from Brandon s 
 hand under cover of the darkness comforted her. When all 
 those terrors would not suggest even a thought of turn 
 ing back, you may judge of the character of this girl and 
 her motive. 
 
 They traveled on, galloping when they could, trotting 
 when they could not gallop, and walking when they must. 
 
 At one time they thought they heard the sound of fol 
 lowing horses, and hastened on as fast as they dare go, 
 until, stopping to Jisten and hearing nothing, they con 
 cluded they were wrong. About eleven o clock, however, 
 right out of the black bank of night in front of them they 
 heard, in earnest, the sucking splash of horses hoofs. In 
 an instant the sound ceased and the silence was worse than 
 the noise. The cry "Hollo!" brought them all to a stand, 
 and Mary thought her time had come. 
 
 Both sides shouted, Who comes there?" to which there 
 was a simultaneous and eager answer, "A. friend," and 
 each party passed its own way, only too glad to be rid of 
 the other. Mary s sigh of relief could be heard above 
 even the wind and the owls, and her heart beat as if it had 
 a task to finish within a certain time. 
 
 After this they rode on as rapidly as they dared, and 
 about midnight arrived at the inn where the relay of horses 
 was awaiting them. 
 
 The inn was a rambling old thatched-roofed structure; 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 225 
 
 half mud, half wood, and all filth. There are many inns 
 in England that are tidy enough, but this one was a little 
 off the main road selected for that reason and the un- 
 cleanness was not the least of Mary s trials that hard night. 
 She had not tasted food since noon, and felt the keen hun 
 ger natural to youth and health such as hers, after twelve 
 hours of fasting and eight hours of riding. Her appetite 
 soon overcame her repugnance, and she ate, with a zest 
 that was new to her, the humblest fare that had ever 
 passed her lips. One often misses the zest of life s joys by 
 having too much of them, and must want a thing before it 
 can be appreciated. 
 
 A hard ride of five hours brought our travelers to Bath, 
 which place they rode around just as the sun began to gild 
 the tile roofs and steeples, and another hour brought them 
 to Bristol. 
 
 The ship was to sail at sunrise, but as the wind had died 
 out with the night, there was no danger of its sailing with 
 out them. Soon the gates opened, and the party rode to 
 the Bow and String, where Brandon had left their chests. 
 The men were then paid off ; quick sale was made of the 
 horses; breakfast was served, and they started for the 
 wharf, with their chests following in the hands of four 
 porters. 
 
 A boat soon took them aboard the Royal Hind, and 
 now it looked as if their daring scheme, so full of improb 
 ability as to seem impossible, had really come to a success 
 ful issue. 
 
 From the beginning, I think, it had never occurred to 
 Mar> T to doubt the result. There had never been with her 
 even a suggestion of possible failure, unless it was that 
 evening in our room, when, prompted by her startled mod 
 esty, she had said she could not bear for us to see her in 
 II 
 
226 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 the trunk hose. Now that fruition seemed about to crown 
 her hopes she was happy to her heart s core; and when 
 once to herself wept for sheer joy. It is little wonder she 
 was happy. She was leaving behind no one whom she 
 loved excepting Jane, and perhaps, me. No father or 
 mother; only a sister whom she barely knew, and a 
 brother whose treatment of her had turned her heart 
 against him. She was also fleeing with the one man in all 
 the world for her, and from a marriage that was literally 
 worse than death. 
 
 Brandon, on the other hand, had always had more de- 
 , sire than hope. The many chances against success had 
 forced upon him a haunting sense of certain failure, which, 
 one would think, should have left him now. It did not, 
 how r ever, and even when on shipboard, with a score of men 
 at the windlass ready to heave anchor at the first breath of 
 wind, it was as strong as when Mary first proposed their 
 flight, sitting in the window on his great cloak. Such were 
 I their opposite positions. Both were without doubt, but 
 ( with this difference; Mary had never doubted success; 
 j Brandon never doubted failure. He had a keen analytical 
 \ faculty that gave him truthfully the chances for and 
 ; against, and, in this case, they were overwhelmingly un- 
 \ favorable. Such hope as he had been able to distill out of 
 I his desire was sadly dampened by an ever-present pre 
 monition of failure, which he could not entirely throw off. 
 Too keen an insight for the truth often stands in a man s 
 way, and too clear a view of an overwhelming obstacle 
 is apt to paralyze effort. Hope must always be behind a 
 hearty endeavor. 
 
 Our travelers were, of course, greatly in need of rest ; 
 so Mary went to her room, and Brandon took a berth in 
 the cabin set apart for the gentlemen 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 227 
 
 They had both paid for their passage, although they had 
 enlisted and were part of the ship s company. They were 
 not expected to do sailor s work, but would be called upon 
 in case of righting to do their part at that. Mary was 
 probably as good a fighter, in her own line, as one could 
 find in a long journey, but how she was to do her part 
 with sword and buckler Brandon did not know. That, 
 however, was a bridge to be crossed when they should 
 come to it. 
 
 They had gone aboard about seven o clock, and Bran 
 don hoped the ship would be well down Bristol channel 
 before he should leave his berth. But the wind that had 
 filled Mary s jack-boots with rain and had howled so dis 
 mally all night long would not stir, now that it was 
 wanted. Noon came, yet no wind, and the sun shone as 
 placidly as if Captain Charles Brandon were not fuming 
 with impatience on the poop of the Royal Hind. Three 
 o clock and no wind. The captain said it would come with 
 night, but sundown was almost at hand and no wind yet. 
 Brandon knew this meant failure if it held a little longer, 
 for he was certain the king, with Wolsey s help, would 
 long since have guessed the truth. 
 
 Brandon had not seen the princess since morning, and 
 the delicacy he felt about going to her cabin made the situ 
 ation somewhat difficult. After putting it off from hour to 
 hour in hope that she would appear of her own accord, 
 he at last knocked at her door, and, of course, found the 
 lady in trouble. 
 
 The thought of the princess going on deck caused a 
 sinking at his heart every time it came, as he felt that it 
 was almost impossible to conceal her identity. He had 
 not seen her in her new male attire, for when she threw 
 off her riding habit on meeting him the night before, he 
 
228 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 had intentionally busied himself about the horses, and saw 
 her only after the great cloak covered her as a gown. He 
 felt that however well her garments might conceal her 
 form, no man on earth ever had such beauty in his face as 
 her transcendent eyes, rose-tinted cheeks, and coral lips, 
 with their cluster of dimples ; and his heart sunk at the 
 prospect. She might hold out for a while with a straight 
 face, but when the smiles should come it were just as 
 well to hang a placard about her neck : "This is a wom 
 an." The tell-tale dimples would be worse than Jane for 
 outspoken, untimely truthfulness and trouble-provoking 
 candor. 
 
 Upon entering, Brandon found Mary wrestling with the 
 problem of her complicated male attire ; the most beautiful 
 picture of puzzled distress imaginable. The port was 
 open and showed her rosy as the morn when she looked 
 up at him. The jack-boots were in a corner, and her little 
 feet seemed to put up a protest all their own, against going 
 into them, that ought to have softened every peg. She 
 looked up at Brandon with a half-hearted smile, and then 
 threw her arms about his neck and sobbed like the child 
 that she was. 
 
 "Do you regret coming, Lady Mary?" asked Brandon, 
 who, now that she was alone with him, felt that he must 
 take no advantage of the fact to be familiar. 
 
 "No! no! not for one moment; I am glad only too 
 glad. But why do you call me Lady ? You used to call 
 me Mary. " 
 
 "I don t know ; perhaps because you are alone." 
 
 "Ah ! that is good of you ; but you need not be quite so 
 respectful." 
 
 The matter was settled by mute but satisfactory arbitra 
 tion, and Brandon continued : "You must make yourself 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 229 
 
 ready to go on deck. It will be hard, but it must be done." 
 
 He helped her with the heavy jack-boots and handed 
 her the rain-stained slouch hat which she put on, and stood 
 a complete man ready for the deck that is, as complete 
 as could be evolved from her utter femininity. 
 
 When Brandon looked her over, all hope went out of 
 him. It seemed that every change of dress only added to 
 her bewitching beauty by showing it in a new phase. 
 
 "It will never do ; there is no disguising you. What is 
 it that despite everything shows so unmistakably fem 
 inine ? What shall we do ? I have it ; you shall remain 
 here under the pretense of illness until we are well at sea, 
 and then I will tell the captain all. It is too bad; and yet 
 I would not have you one whit less a woman for all the 
 world. A man loves a woman who is so thoroughly wom 
 anly that nothing can hide it." 
 
 Mary was pleased at his flatter} , but disappointed at the 
 failure in herself. She had thought that surely these 
 garments would make a man of her in which the keenest 
 eye could not detect a flaw. 
 
 They were discussing the matter when a knock came at 
 the door with the cry, "All hands on deck for inspection." 
 Inspection! Jesu! Mary would not safely endure it a 
 minute. Brandon left her at once and went to the captain. 
 
 "My lord is ill, and begs to be excused from deck in 
 spection," he said. 
 
 Bradhurst, a surly old half pirate of the saltiest pattern, 
 answered: "111? Then he had better go ashore as soon 
 as possible. I will refund his money. We can not make 
 a hospital out of the ship. If his lordship is too ill to stand 
 inspection, see that he goes ashore at once." 
 
 This last was addressed to one of the ship s officers, who 
 
230 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 answered with the usual "Aye, aye, sir," and started for 
 Mary s cabin. 
 
 That was worse than ever; and Brandon quickly said 
 he would have his lordship up at once. He then returned 
 to Mary, and after buckling on her sword and belt they 
 went on deck and climbed up the poop ladder to take their 
 places with those entitled to stand aft. 
 
 Brandon has often told me since that it was as much as 
 he could do to keep back the tears when he saw Mary s 
 wonderful effort to appear manly. It was both comical 
 and pathetic. She was a princess to whom all the world 
 bowed down, yet that did not help her here. After all 
 she was only a girl, timid and fearful, following at Bran 
 don s heels; frightened lest she should get out of arm s 
 reach of him among those rough men, and longing with 
 all her heart to take his hand for moral as well as physical 
 support. It must have been both laughable and pathetic 
 in the extreme. That miserable sword persisted in trip 
 ping her, and the jack-boots, so much too large, evinced 
 an alarming tendency to slip off with every step. How in 
 sane we all were not to have foreseen this from the very 
 beginning. It must have been a unique figure she pre 
 sented climbing up the steps at Brandon s heels, jack-boots 
 and all. So unique was it that the sailors working in the 
 ship s waist stopped their tasks to stare in wonderment, 
 and the gentlemen on the poop made no effort to hide their 
 amusement. Old Bradhurst stepped up to her. 
 
 "I hope your lordship is feeling better ;" and then, sur 
 veying her from head to foot, with a broad grin on his 
 features, "I declare, you look the picture of health, if I 
 ever saw it. How old are you ?" 
 
 Mary quickly responded, "Fourteen years." 
 
 "Fourteen." returned Bradhurst: "well. T don t think 
 
THESE FELLOWS . . 
 
 ABOUT MARY 
 
 TO INSPECT HER." 
 
 . GATHERED 
 
THE ELOPEMEN l 231 
 
 you will shed much blood. You look more like a deuced 
 handsome girl than any man I ever saw. At this the 
 men all laughed, and were very impertinent in the free and 
 easy manner of such gentry, most of whom were profes 
 sional adventurers, with every finer sense dulled and de 
 based by years of vice. 
 
 These fellows, half of them tipsy, now gathered about 
 Mary to inspect her personally, each on his own account. 
 Their looks and conduct were very disconcerting, but 
 they did nothing insulting until one fellow gave her a 
 slap on the back, accompanying it by an indecent remark. 
 Brandon tried to pay no attention to them, but this was 
 too much, so he lifted his arm and knocked the fellow off 
 the poop into the waist. The man was back in a moment, 
 and swords were soon drawn and clicking away at a great 
 rate. The contest was brief, however, as the fellow was 
 no sort of a match for Brandon, who, with his old trick, 
 quickly twisted his adversary s sword out of his grasp, and 
 with a flash of his own blade flung it into the sea. The 
 other men were now talking together at a little distance 
 in whispers, and in a moment one drunken brute shouted: 
 "It is no man ; it is a woman ; let us see more of her." 
 
 Before Brandon could interfere, the fellow had unbuck 
 led Mary s doublet at the throat, and with a jerk, had torn 
 it half off, carrying away the sleeve and exposing Mary s 
 shoulder, almost throwing her to the deck. 
 
 He waved his trophy on high, but his triumph was 
 short-lived, for almost instantly it fell to the deck, and 
 with it the offending hand severed at the wrist by Bran 
 don s sword. Three or four friends of the wounded man 
 rushed upon Brandon; whereupon Mary screamed and 
 began to weep, which of course told the whole story. 
 
 A great laugh went up, and instantly a general fight 
 
232 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 began. Several of the gentlemen, seeing Brandon at 
 tacked by such odds, took up his defense, and within 
 twenty seconds all were on one side or the other, every 
 mother s son of them fighting away like mad. 
 
 You see how quickly and completely one woman with 
 out the slightest act on her part, except a modest effort to 
 be let alone, had set the whole company by the ears, cut 
 ting and slashing away at each other like very devils. The 
 sex must generate mischief in some unknown manner, 
 and throw it off, as the sun throws off its heat. However, 
 Jane is an exception to that rule if it is a rule. 
 
 The officers soon put a stop to this lively little fight, 
 and took Brandon and Mary, who was weeping as any 
 right-minded woman would, down into the cabin for con 
 sultation. 
 
 With a great oath Bradhurst exclaimed: "It is plain 
 enough that you have brought a girl on board under false 
 colors, and you may as well make ready to put her ashore. 
 You see what she has already done a hand lost to one 
 man and wounds for twenty others and she was on deck 
 less than five minutes. Heart of God ! At that rate she 
 would have the ship at the bottom of Davy Jones s locker 
 before we could sail half down the channel." 
 
 "It was not my fault," sobbed Mary, her eyes flashing 
 fire ; "I did nothing ; all I wanted was to be left alone ; 
 but those brutes of men you shall pay for this ; remem 
 ber what I say. Did you expect Captain Brandon to stand 
 back and not defend me, when that wretch was tearing my 
 garments off?" 
 
 "Captain Brandon, did you say ?" asked Bradhurst, with 
 his hat off instantly. "Yes," answered that individual. 
 "I shipped under an assumed name, for various reasons, 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 233 
 
 and desire not to be known. You will do well to keep my 
 secret." 
 
 "Do I understand that you are Master Charles Bran 
 don, the king s friend?" asked Bradhurst. 
 
 "I am," was the answer. 
 
 "Then, sir, I must ask your pardon for the way you 
 have been treated. We, of course, could not know it, but 
 a man must expect trouble when he attaches himself to a 
 woman." It is a wonder the flashes from Mary s eyes did 
 not strike the old sea-dog dead. He, however, did not 
 see them, and w r ent on : "We are more than anxious that 
 so valiant knight as Sir Charles Brandon should go with 
 us, and hope your reception will not drive you back, but as 
 to the lady you see already the result of her presence, 
 and much as we want you, we can not take her. Aside 
 from the general trouble which a woman takes with her 
 everywhere" Mary would not even look at the creature 
 "on shipboard there is another and greater objection. 
 It is said, you know, among sailors, that a woman on 
 board draws bad luck to certain sorts of ships, and every 
 sailor would desert, before we could weigh anchor, if it 
 were known this lady was to go with us. Should they 
 find it out in mid-ocean, a mutiny would be sure to follow, 
 and God only knows what would happen. For her sake, 
 if no other reason, take her ashore at once." 
 
 Brandon saw only too plainly the truth that he had 
 really seen all the time, but to which he had shut his eyes, 
 and throwing Mary s cloak over her shoulders, prepared 
 to go ashore. As they went over the side and pulled off, 
 a great shout went up from the ship far more derisive 
 than cheering, and the men at the oars looked at each 
 other askance and smiled. What a predicament for a prin 
 cess! Brandon cursed himself for having been such a 
 
234 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FUJWKK 
 
 knave and fool as to allow this to happen. He had known 
 the danger all the time, and his act could not be charge 
 able to ignorance or a failure to see the probable conse 
 quences. Temptation, and selfish desire, had given him 
 temerity in place of judgment. He had attempted what 
 none but an insane man would have tried, without even 
 the pitiable excuse of insanity. He had seen it all only 
 too clearly from the very beginning, and he had deliber 
 ately and with open eyes brought disgrace, ruin, and death 
 unless he could escape upon himself, and utter humili 
 ation to her whom his love should have prompted him to 
 save at all cost. If Mary could only have disguised herself 
 to look like a man they might have succeeded, but that 
 little "if" was larger than Paul s church, and blocked the 
 road as completely as if it had been a word of twenty 
 syllables. 
 
 When the princess stepped ashore it seemed to her as if 
 the heart in her breast was a different and separate organ 
 from the one she had carried aboard. 
 
 As the boat put off again for the ship, its crew gave a 
 cheer coupled with some vile advice, for which Brandon 
 would gladly have run them through, each and every one. 
 He had to swallow his chagrin and anger, and really 
 blamed no one but himself, though it was torture to him 
 that this girl should be subjected to such insults, and he 
 powerless to avenge them. The news had spread from 
 the wharf like wildfire, and on their way back to the Bo\v 
 and String, there came from small boys and hidden voices 
 such exclamations as : "Look at the woman in man s 
 clothing;" "Isn t he a beautiful man?" "Look at him 
 blush ;" and others too coarse to be repeated. Imagine the 
 humiliating situation, from which there was no escape. 
 
 At last they reached the inn, whither their chests soon 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 235 
 
 followed them, sent by Bradhurst, together with their pas 
 sage money, which he very honestly refunded. 
 
 Mary soon donned her woman s attire, of which she had 
 a supply in her chest, and at least felt more comfortable 
 without the jack-boots. She had made her toilet alone for 
 the first time in her life, having no maid to help her, and 
 wept as she dressed, for this disappointment was like 
 plucking the very heart out of her. Her hope had been so 
 high that the fall was all the harder. Nay, even more ; 
 hope had become fruition to her when they were once 
 a-shipboard, and failure right at the door of success made 
 it doubly hard to bear. It crushed her, and, where before 
 had been hope and confidence, was nothing now but de 
 spair. Like all people with a great capacity for elation, 
 when she sunk she touched the bottom. Alas ! Mary, the 
 unconquerable, was down at last. 
 
 This failure meant so much to her; it meant that she 
 would never be Brandon s wife, but would go to France to 
 endure the dreaded old Frenchman. At that thought a 
 recoil came. Her spirit asserted itself, and she stamped 
 her foot and swore upon her soul it should never be; 
 never! never! so long as she had strength to fight or 
 voice to cry, "No." The thought of this marriage and of 
 the loss of Brandon was painful enough, but there came 
 another, entirely new to her and infinitely worse. 
 
 Hastily arranging her dress, she went in search of Bran 
 don, whom she quickly found and took to her room. 
 
 After closing the door she said: "I thought I had 
 reached the pinnacle of disappointment and pain when 
 compelled to leave the ship, for it meant that I should lose 
 you and have to marry Louis of France. But I have found 
 that there is still a possible pain more poignant than either, 
 and I can not bear it ; so I come to you you who are the 
 
236 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 great cure for all my troubles. Oh ! that I could lay them 
 here all my life long," and she put her head upon his 
 breast, forgetting what she had intended to say. 
 
 "What is the trouble, Mary?" 
 
 "Oh! yes! I thought of that marriage and of losing 
 you, and then, oh! Mary Mother! I thought of some 
 other woman having you to herself. I could see her with 
 you, and I was jealous I think they call it. I have heard 
 of the pangs of jealousy, and if the fear of a rival is so 
 great what would the reality be ? It would kill me ; I 
 could not endure it. I can not endure even this, and I 
 want you to swear that " 
 
 Brandon took her in his arms as she began to weep. 
 
 "I will gladly swear by everything I hold sacred that 
 no other woman than you shall ever be my wife. If I 
 can not have you, be sure you have spoiled every other 
 woman for me. There is but one in all the world but 
 one. I can at least save you that pain." 
 
 She then stood on tip-toes to lift her lips to him, and 
 said : "I give you the same promise. How you must have 
 suffered when you thought I was to wed another." 
 
 After a pause she went on : "But it might have been 
 worse that is, it would be worse if you should marry 
 some other woman ; but that is all settled now and I feel 
 easier. Then I might have married the old French king, 
 but that, too, is settled ; and we can endure the lesser pain. 
 It always helps us when we are able to think it might 
 have been worse." 
 
 Her unquestioning faith in Brandon was beautiful, and 
 she never doubted that he spoke the unalterable truth 
 when he said he would never marry any other woman. She 
 had faith in herself, too, and was confident that her prom 
 ise to marry no man but Brandon ended that important 
 
THE ELOPEMENT 237 
 
 matter likewise, and put the French marriage totally out 
 of the question for all time to come. 
 
 As for Brandon, he was safe enough in his part of the 
 contract. He knew only too well that no woman could 
 approach Mary in her inimitable perfections, and had 
 tested his love closely enough, in his struggle against it, 
 to feel that it had taken up its abode in his heart to stay, 
 whether he wanted it or not. He knew that he was safe 
 in making her a promise which he was powerless to break. 
 All this he fully explained to Mary, as they sat looking out 
 the window at the dreary rain which had come on again 
 with the gathering gloom of night. 
 
 Brandon did not tell her that his faith in her ultimate 
 ability to keep her promise was as small as it was great in 
 his own. Neither did he dampen her spirits by telling her 
 that there was a reason, outside of himself, which in all 
 probability would help him in keeping his word, and save 
 her from the pangs of that jealousy she so much feared ; 
 namely, that he would most certainly wed the block and ax 
 should the king get possession of him. He might have 
 escaped from England in the Royal Hind, for the wind 
 had come up shortly after they left the ship, and they 
 could see the sails indistinctly through the gloom as she 
 got under way. But he could not leave Mary alone, and 
 had made up his mind to take her back to London and 
 march straight into the jaws of death with her, if the 
 king s men did not soon come. 
 
 He knew that a debt to folly bears no grace, and \\~^ 
 ready with his principal and usance^ 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 TO THE TOWER 
 
 Whether or not Brandon would have found some way 
 to deliver the princess safely home, and still make his es 
 cape, I can not say, as he soon had no choice in the matter. 
 At midnight a body of yeomen from the tower took posses 
 sion of the Bow and String, and carried Brandon off to 
 London without communication with Mary. She did not 
 know of his arrest until next morning, when she was in 
 formed that she was to follow immediately, and her heart 
 was nearly broken. 
 
 Here again was trouble for Mary. She felt, however, 
 that the two great questions, the marriage of herself to 
 Louis, and Brandon to any other person, were, as she 
 called it, "settled" ; and was almost content to endure this 
 as a mere putting off of her desires a meddlesome and 
 impertinent interference of the Fates who would soon 
 learn with whom they were dealing and amend their con 
 duct. 
 
 She did not understand the consequences for Brandon, 
 nor that the Fates would have to change their purpose 
 very quickly or something would happen worse, even, than 
 his marriage to another woman. 
 
 On the second morning after leaving Bristol, Brandon 
 reached London, and, as he expected, was sent to the 
 Tower. The next evening Lady Mary arrived and was 
 taken down to Greenwich. 
 
 The girl s fair name was, of course, lost but, fortu- 
 
 (238) 
 
AT MIDNIGHT A BODY OF YEOMEN 
 . . . TOOK POSSESSION OF 
 THE BOV AND STRING." 
 
TO THE TOWER 239 
 
 nately, that goes for little with a princess since no one 
 would believe that Brandon had protected her against him 
 self as valiantly and honorably as he would against an 
 other. The princess being much more unsophisticated 
 than the courtiers were ready to believe, never thought of 
 saying anything to establish her innocence or virtue, and 
 her silence was put down to shame and taken as evidence 
 against her. 
 
 Jane met Mary at Windsor, and, of course, there was a 
 great flood of tears. 
 
 Upon arriving at the palace, the girls were left to them 
 selves upon Mary s promise not to leave her room ; but, by 
 the next afternoon, she, having been unable to learn any 
 thing concerning Brandon, broke her parole and went out 
 to seek the king. 
 
 It never occurred to Mary that Brandon might suffer 
 death for attempting to run away with her. She knew 
 only too well that she alone was to blame, not only for 
 that, but for all that had taken place between them, and 
 never for one moment thought that he might be punished 
 for her fault ; even admitting there was fault in any one, 
 which she was by no means ready to do. 
 
 The trouble in her mind, growing out of a lack of news 
 from Brandon, was of a general nature, and the possibility 
 of his death had no place in her thoughts. Nevertheless, 
 for the second time, Brandon had been condemned to die 
 for her sake. The king s seal had stamped the warrant 
 for the execution, and the headsman had sharpened his ax 
 and could almost count the golden fee for his butchery. 
 
 Mary found the king playing cards with de Longueville. 
 There was a roomful of courtiers, ana as she entered she 
 was the target for every eye; but she was on familiar 
 ground now. and did not care for the glances nor the 
 
240 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 observers, most of whom she despised. She was the prin 
 cess again and full of self-confidence ; so she went straight 
 to the object of her visit, the king. She had not made up 
 her mind just what to say first, there was so much ; but 
 Henry saved her the trouble. He, of course, was in a 
 great rage, and denounced Mary s conduct as unnatural 
 and treasonable ; the latter, in Henry s mind, being a crime 
 many times greater than the breaking of all the command 
 ments put together, in one fell, composite act. All this 
 the king had communicated to Mary by the lips of Wolse} 
 the evening before, and Mary had received it with a silent 
 scorn that would have withered any one but the worthy 
 bishop of York. As I said, when Mary approached her 
 brother, he saved her the trouble of deciding where tc 
 begin by speaking first himself, and his words were of a 
 part with his nature violent, cruel and vulgar. He abused 
 her and called her all the vile names in his ample vocabu 
 lary of Billingsgate. The queen was present, and aided 
 and abetted with a word now and then, until Henry, witli 
 her help, at last succeeded in working himself into a tow 
 ering passion, and wound up by calling Mary a vile wan 
 ton in plainer terms than I like to write. This aroused al 
 the antagonism in the girl, and there was plenty of it. Sht 
 feared Henry no more than she feared me. Her eyes 
 flashed a fire that made even the king draw back as she 
 exclaimed: "You give me that name and expect me tc 
 remember you are my brother? There are words whicl: 
 make a mother hate her first-born, and that is one. Tel! 
 me what I have done to deserve it? I expected to heai 
 of ingratitude and disobedience and all that, but supposed 
 you had at least some traces of brotherly feeling for ties 
 of blood are hard to break even if you have of late losl 
 all semblance to man or king." 
 
TO THE TOWER 241 
 
 This was hitting Henry hard, for it was beginning to be 
 the talk in every mouth that he was leaving all the affairs 
 of state to Wolsey and spending his time in puerile amuse 
 ment. "The toward hope which at all poyntes appeared 
 in the younge Kynge" was beginning to look, after all, 
 like nothing more than the old-time, royal cold fire, made 
 to consume but not to warm the nation. 
 
 Henry looked at Alary with the stare of a baited bull. 
 
 "If running off in male attire, and stopping at inns and 
 boarding ships with a common captain of the guard 
 doesn t justify my accusation and stamp you what you are, 
 I do not know what would. 
 
 Even Henry saw her innocence in her genuine surprise. 
 She was silent for a little time, and I, standing close to 
 her, could plainly see that this phase of the question had 
 never before presented itself. 
 
 She hung her head for a moment and then spoke : "It 
 may be true, as you say, that what I have done will lose 
 me my fair name I had never thought of it in that light 
 but it is also true that I am innocent and have done no 
 wrong. You may not believe me, but you can ask Master 
 Brandon" here the king crave a great laugh, and of 
 course the courtiers joined in. 
 
 "It is all very well for you to laugh, but Master Bran 
 don would not tell you a lie for your crown Gods ! I 
 could have fallen on my knees to a faith like that "What 
 I tell you is true. I trusted him so completely that the 
 fear of dishonor at his hands never suggested itself to me. 
 I knew he would care for and respect me. I trusted him, 
 and my trust was not misplaced. Of how many of these 
 creatures who laugh when the king laughs could I say as 
 much?" And Henry knew she spoke the truth, both con 
 cerning herself and the courtiers. 
 is 
 
242 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 With downcast eyes she continued: "I suppose, after 
 all, you are partly right in regard to me ; for it was his 
 honor that saved me, not my own ; and if I am not what 
 you called me I have Master Brandon to thank not 
 myself." 
 
 "We will thank him publicly on Tower Hill, day after 
 to-morrow, at noon," said the king, with his accustomed 
 delicacy, breaking the news of Brandon s sentence as 
 abruptly as possible. 
 
 With a look of terror in her eyes, Mary screamed: 
 
 "What ! Charles Brandon Tower Hill? You are 
 
 going to kill him ?" 
 
 "I think we will," responded Henry; "it usually has 
 that effect, to separate the head from the body and quarter 
 the remains to decorate the four gates. We will take you 
 up to London in a day or two and let you see his beautiful 
 head on the bridge." 
 
 "Behead quarter bridge! Lord Jesu!" She could 
 not grasp the thought ; she tried to speak, but the words 
 would not come. In a moment she became more coherent, 
 and the words rolled from her lips, as a mighty flood tide 
 pours back through the arches of London Bridge. 
 
 "You shall not kill him ; he is blameless ; you do not 
 know. Drive these gawking fools out of the room, and I 
 will tell you all." The king ordered the room cleared of 
 everybody but Wolsey, Jane and myself, who remained 
 at Mary s request. When all were gone the princess con 
 tinued : "Brother, this man is in no way to blame ; it is 
 all my fault my fault that he loves me ; my fault that he 
 tried to run away to New Spain with me. It may be that 
 I have done wrong and that my conduct has been unmaid- 
 enly, but I could not help it. From the first time I ever 
 saw him in the lists with you at Windsor there was a 
 
1O THE TOWER ^43 
 
 gnawing hunger in my heart beyond my control. I sup 
 posed, of course, that day he would contrive some way to 
 be presented to me .... " 
 
 "You did?" 
 
 "Yes, but he made no effort at all, and when we met 
 !:o treated me as if I were an ordinary girl." 
 
 "He did?" 
 
 ^V^-. v 
 
 J V-^3 
 
 " Horrible." 
 
 Mary was too intent on her story to heed the sarcasm, 
 and continued: "That made me all the more interested 
 in him since it showed that he was different from the 
 wretches who beset you and me with their flattery, and 
 I soon began to seek him on every occasion. This is an 
 immaidenly history I am giving, I know, but it is the truth 
 and must be told. I was satisfied at first if I could only 
 be in the same room with him, and see his face, and hear 
 his voice. The very air he breathed was like an elixir for 
 me. I made every excuse to have him near me ; I asked 
 him to my parlor you know about that and and did 
 all I could to be with him. At first he was gentle and kind, 
 but soon, I think, he sa\v the dawning danger in both our 
 hearts, as I too saw it, and he avoided me in every way 
 he could, knowing the trouble it held for us both. Oh ! 
 he was the wiser and to think to what I have brought 
 him. Brother, let me die for him I who alone am to 
 blame ; take my life and spare him spare him ! He was 
 the wiser ; but I doubt if all the wisdom in the world could 
 have saved us. He almost insulted me once in the park 
 told me to leave him when it hurt him more than me, I 
 am now sure ; but he did it to keep matters from growing 
 worse between us. I tried to remember the affront, but 
 could not, and had he struck me I believe I should have 
 
244 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 gone back to him sooner or later. Oh ! it was all my fault ; 
 I would not let him save himself. So strong- was my feel 
 ing that I could bear his silence no longer, and one day I 
 went to him in your bed-chamber ante-room and fairly 
 thrust myself and my love upon him. Then, after he was 
 liberated from Newgate, I could not induce him to come 
 to me, so I went to him and begged for his love. Then I 
 coaxed him into taking me to New Spain, and would listen 
 to no excuse and hear no reason. Now lives there another 
 man who would have taken so much coaxing ?" 
 
 "No! by heaven! your majesty," said Wolsey, who 
 really had a kindly feeling for Brandon and would gladly 
 save his life, if, by so doing, he would not interfere with 
 any of his own plans and interests. Wolsey s heart was 
 naturally kind when it cost him nothing, and much has 
 been related of him, which, to say the least, tells a great 
 deal more than the truth. Ingratitude always recoils upon 
 the ingrate, and Henry s loss was greater than Wolsey s 
 when Wolsey fell. 
 
 Henry really liked, or, rather, admired, Brandon, as had 
 often been shown, but his nature was incapable of real 
 affection. The highest point he ever reached was admira 
 tion, often quite extravagant for a time, but usually short 
 lived, as naked admiration is apt to be. If he had affection 
 for any one it was for Mary. He could not but see the 
 justice of his sister s position, but he had no intention 
 of allowing justice, in the sense of right, to interfere with 
 justice in the sense of the king s will. 
 
 "You have been playing the devil at a great rate," he 
 said. "You have disobeyed your brother and your king ; 
 have disgraced yourself ; have probably made trouble be 
 tween us and France, for if Louis refuses to take you now 
 J will cram you down his throat ; and by your own story 
 
TO THE TOWER 245 
 
 have led a good man to the block. Quite a budget of evils 
 for one woman to open. But I have noticed that the trou 
 ble a woman can make is in proportion to her beauty, and 
 no wonder my little sister has made so much disturbance. 
 It is strange, though, that he should so affect you. 
 Master Wolsey, surely there has been witchery here. He 
 must have used it abundantly to cast such a spell over my 
 sister." Then turning to the princess: "Was it at any 
 time possible for him to have given you a love powder ; or 
 did he ever make any signs or passes over you ?" 
 
 "Oh, no! nothing of that sort. I never ate or drank 
 anything which he could possibly have touched. And as 
 to signs and passes, I know he never made any. Sir Ed 
 win, you were always present when I was with him until 
 after we left for Bristol ; did you ever see anything of the 
 sort?" 
 
 I answered "No," and she went on. "Besides, I do not 
 believe much in signs and passes. No one can affect 
 others unless he can induce them to cat or drink something 
 in which he has placed a love powder or potion. Then 
 again, Master Brandon did not want me to love him, and 
 surely would not have used such a method to gain what he 
 could have had freely without it." 
 
 I noticed that Henry s mind had wandered from what 
 Mary was saying, and that his eyes were fixed upon me 
 with a thoughtful, half vicious, inquiring stare that I did 
 not like. I wondered what was coming next, but my curi 
 osity was more than satisfied when the king asked: "So 
 Caskoden was present at all your interviews ?" 
 
 Ah ! Holy Mother ! I knew what was coming now, and 
 actually began to shrivel with fright. The king contin 
 ued : "I suppose he helped you to escape ?" 
 
 I thought my day had come, but Mary s wit was equal 
 
246 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 to the occasion. With an expression on her face of the 
 most dove-like innocence, she quickly said : 
 
 "Oh ! no ! neither he nor Jane knew anything of it. We 
 were afraid they might divulge." 
 
 Shade of Sapphira! 
 
 A lie is a pretty good thing, too, now and then, and the 
 man who says that word of Mary s was not a blessed lie, 
 must fight me with lance, battle-ax, sword and dagger till 
 one or the other of us bites the dust in death, be he great 
 or small. 
 
 "I am glad to learn that you knew nothing of it," said 
 Henry, addressing me; and I was glad, too, for him to 
 learn it, you may be sure. 
 
 Then spoke Wolsey: "If your majesty will permit, I 
 would say that I quite agree with you; there has been 
 witchery here witchery of the most potent kind; the 
 witchery of lustrous eyes, of fair skin and rosy lips ; the 
 witchery of all that is sweet and intoxicating- in woman 
 hood, but Master Brandon has been the victim of this 
 potent spell, not the user of it. One look upon your sister 
 standing there, and I know your majesty will agree that 
 Brandon had no chance against her." 
 
 "Perhaps you are right," returned Henry. 
 
 Then spoke Mary, all unconscious of her girlish ego 
 tism : "Of course he had not. Master Brandon could not 
 help it." Which was true beyond all doubt. 
 
 Henry laughed at her naivete, and Wolsey s lips wore a 
 smile, as he plucked the king by the sleeve and took him 
 over to the window, out of our hearing. 
 
 Mary began to weep and show signs of increasing agita 
 tion. 
 
 After a short whispered conversation, the king and 
 Wolsey came back and the former said ; "Sister, if I prom- 
 
ro THE IOWER 247 
 
 ise to give Brandon his life, will you consent decently and 
 like a good girl to marry Louis of France ?" 
 
 Mary almost screamed, "Yes, yes; gladly; I will do 
 anything you ask," and fell at his feet hysterically em 
 bracing his knees. 
 
 As the king- stooped and lifted her to her feet, he kissed 
 her, saying: "His life shall be spared, my sweet sister/ 
 After this, Henry felt that he had done a wonderfully 
 gracious act and was the kindest-hearted prince in all 
 Christendom. 
 
 Poor Mary! Two mighty kings and their great min 
 isters of state had at last conquered you but they had to 
 strike you through your love the vulnerable spot in every 
 woman. 
 
 Jane and I led Mary away through a side door and the 
 king called for de Longueville to finish the interrupted 
 game of cards. 
 
 Before the play was resumed Wolsey stepped softly 
 around to the king and asked : "Shall I affix your majes 
 ty s seal to Brandon s pardon ?" 
 
 "Yes, but keep him in the Tower until Mary is off for 
 France." 
 
 Wolsey had certainly been a friend to Brandon in time 
 of need, but, as usual, he had value received for his friend 
 liness. He was an ardent advocate of the French mar 
 riage, notwithstanding the fact he had told Mary he was 
 not ; having no doubt been bribed thereto by the French 
 king. 
 
 The good bishop had, with the help of de Longueville, 
 secretly sent Mary s miniature to the French court in order 
 that it might, as if by accident, fall into the hands of Louis, 
 and that worthy s little, old, shriveled heart began to flut 
 ter, just as if there could be kindled in it a genuine flame. 
 
248 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Louis had sent to de Longueville, who was then in 
 England, for confirmation of * Mary s beauty, and de 
 Longueville grew so eloquent on the theme that his French 
 majesty at once authorized negotiations. 
 
 As reports came in Louis grew more and more impa 
 tient. This did not, however, stand in the way of his 
 driving a hard bargain in the matter of dower, for, "The 
 Father of the People" had the characteristics of his race, 
 and was intensely practical as well as inflammable. They 
 I never lose sight of the dot but I do not find fault. 
 
 Louis little knew what thorns this lovely rose had under 
 neath her velvet leaves, and what a veritable tartar she 
 would be, linked to the man she did not love ; or he would 
 have given Henry four hundred thousand crowns to keep 
 her at home. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 PROSERPINA 
 
 So the value received for Wolsey s friendship to Bran 
 don was Mary s promise to marry Louis. 
 
 Mary wanted to send a message at once to Brandon, 
 telling him his life would be spared, and that she had made 
 no delay this time a fact of which she was very proud 
 but the Tower gates would not open until morning, so 
 she had to wait. She compensated herself as well as she 
 could by writing a letter, which I should like to give you 
 here, but it is too long. She told him of his pardon, but 
 not one word upon the theme he so wished yet feared to 
 hear of her promise never to wed any other man. Mary 
 had not told him of her final surrender in the matter of 
 the French marriage, for the reason that she dreaded to 
 pain him, and feared he might refuse the sacrifice. 
 
 "It will almost kill him, I know," she said to Jane that 
 night, "and I fear it is a false kindness I do him. He 
 would, probably, rather die than that I should marry an 
 other ; I know that I should rather die, or have anything 
 else terrible to happen, than for another woman to possess 
 him. He promised me he never would; but suppose he 
 should fail in his word, as I have to-day failed in mine. 
 The thought of it absolutely burns me." And she threw 
 herself into Jane s arms, and that little comforter tried to 
 soothe her by making light of her fears. 
 
 "Oh! but suppose he should?" 
 
 "Well ! there is no need to borrow trouble. You said 
 
 (249) 
 
250 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 he promised you, and you know he is one who keeps his 
 word." 
 
 "But I promised, too, and think of what I am about to 
 do. Mary in heaven, help me! But he is made of dif- 
 ferent stuff from me.. I can and~3o trust his word, and 
 when I think of all my troubles, and when it seems that I 
 can not bear them, the one comforting thought comes that 
 no other woman will ever possess him ; no other woman ; 
 no other woman. I am glad that my only comfort comes 
 from him." 
 
 "I hoped that I might have been some comfort to you ; 
 I have tried hard enough," said Jane, who was jealous. 
 
 "Oh ! yes ! my sweet Jane ; you do comfort me ; you 
 are like a soothing balm to an aching pain," and she kissed 
 the hands that held hers. This was all that modest little 
 Jane required. She was content to be an humble balm 
 and did not aspire to the dignity of an elixir. 
 
 The girls then said their prayers in concert and Mary 
 gently wept herself to sleep. She lay dreaming and toss 
 ing nervously until sunrise, when she got up and added 
 more pages to her letter, until I called to take it. 
 
 I was on hand soon after the Tower gates had opened 
 and was permitted to see Brandon at once. He read 
 Mary s letter and acted like every other lover, since love- 
 letters first began. He was quick to note the absence of 
 the longed for, but not expected, assurance, and when he 
 did not see it went straight to the point. 
 
 "She has promised to marry the French king to pur 
 chase my life. Is that not true ?" 
 
 "I hope not," I answered evasively ; "I have seen very 
 little of her, and she has said nothing about it." 
 
 "You are evading my question, I see. Do you know 
 nothing of it ?" 
 
PROSERPINA 251 
 
 "Nothing," I replied, telling an unnecessary lie. 
 
 "Caskoden, you are either a liar or a blockhead." 
 
 "Make it a liar, Brandon," said I, laughingly, for I was 
 sure of my place in his heart and knew that he meant no 
 offense. 
 
 I never doubt a friend ; one would better be trustful of 
 ninety-nine friends who are false, than doubtful of one 
 who is true. Suspicion and supersensitiveness are at once 
 the badge and the bane of a little soul. 
 
 I did not leave the Tower until noon, and Brandon s 
 pardon had been delivered to him before I left. He was 
 glad that the first news of it had come from Mary. 
 
 He naturally expected his liberty at once, and when told 
 that he was to be honorably detained for a short time, 
 turned to me and said : "I suppose they are afraid to let 
 me out until she is off for France. King Henry flatters 
 me." 
 
 I looked out of the window up Tower street and said 
 nothing. 
 
 When I left I took a letter to Mary, which plainly told 
 her he had divined it all, and she wrote a tear-stained 
 answer, begging him to forgive her for having saved his 
 life at a cost greater than her own. 
 
 For several days I was kept busy carrying letters from 
 Greenwich to the Tower and back again, but soon letters 
 ceased to satisfy Mary, and she made up her mind that 
 she must see him. Nothing else would do. She must 
 not, could not, and, in short, would not o-o another day 
 without seeing him; no, not another hour. Jane and I 
 opposed her all we could, but the best we could accom 
 plish was to induce her for Brandon s sake for she was 
 beginning to see that he was the one who had to suffer 
 for her indiscretions to ask Henry s permission, and if 
 
252 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 he refused, then try some other way. To determine was 
 to act with Mary, so off she went without delay to hunt 
 the king, taking Jane and me along as escort. How full 
 we were of important business, as we scurried along the 
 corridors, one on each side of Mary, all talking excitedly 
 at once. When anything was to be done, it always re 
 quired three of us to do it. 
 
 We found the king, and without any prelude, Mary 
 proffered her request. Of course it was refused. Mary 
 pouted and was getting ready for an outburst, when 
 Wolsey spoke up: "With your majesty s gracious per 
 mission, I would subscribe to the petition of the princess. 
 She has been good enough to give her promise in the mat 
 ter of so much importance to us, and in so small a thing 
 as this I hope you may see your way clear toward favor 
 ing her. The interview will be the last and may help to 
 make her duty easier." Mary gave the cardinal a fleeting 
 glance from her lustrous eyes full of surprise and grati 
 tude, and as speaking as a book. 
 
 Henry looked from one to the other of us for a moment, 
 and broke into a boisterous laugh : 
 
 "Oh, I don t care, so that you keep it a secret. The old 
 king will never know. We can hurry up the marriage. 
 He is getting too much already ; four hundred thousand 
 crowns and a girl like you ; he can not complain if he have 
 an heir. It would be a good joke on the miserly old 
 dotard, but better on Ce Gross Garcon. 
 
 Mary sprang from her chair with a cry of rage. "You 
 brute ! Do you think I am as vile as you because I have 
 the misfortune to be your sister, or that Charles Brandon 
 is like you simply because he is a man ?" Henry laughed, 
 his health at that time being too good for him to be ill- 
 
PROSERPINA 253 
 
 natured. He had all he wanted out of his sister, so her 
 outbursts amused him. 
 
 Mary hurriedly left the king and walked back to her 
 room filled with shame and rage ; feelings actively stimu 
 lated by Jane, who was equally indignant. 
 
 Henry had noticed Jane s frown, but had laughed at 
 her, and had tried to catch and kiss her as she left ; but she 
 struggled away from him and fled with a speed worthy of 
 the cause. 
 
 This insulting suggestion put a stop to Mary s visit to 
 the Tower more effectually than any refusal could have 
 done, and she sat down to pour forth her soul s indigna 
 tion in a letter. 
 
 She remained at home then, but saw Brandon later, and 
 to good purpose, as I believe, although I am not sure about 
 it, even to this day. 
 
 I took this letter to Brandon, along with Mary s minia 
 ture the one that had been painted for Charles of Ger 
 many, but had never been given and a curl of her hair, 
 and it looked as if this was all he would ever possess of 
 her 
 
 De Longueville heard of Henry s brutal consent that 
 Mary might see Brandon, and, w r ith a Frenchman s belief 
 in woman s depravity, was exceedingly anxious to keep 
 them apart. To this end he requested that a member of 
 his own retinue be placed near Brandon. To this Henry 
 readily consented, and there was an end to even the letter- 
 writing. Opportunities increase in value doubly fast as 
 they drift behind us, and now 7 that the princess could not 
 see Brandon, or even write to him, she regretted with her 
 whole soul that she had not gone to the Tower when she 
 had permission, regardless of what any one would say or 
 think. 
 
254 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Mary was imperious and impatient, by nature, but upon 
 rare and urgent occasions could employ the very smooth 
 est sort of finesse. 
 
 Her promise to marry Louis of France had been given 
 under the stress of a frantic fear for Brandon, and without 
 the slightest mental reservation, for it was given to save 
 his life, as she would have given her hands or her eyes, 
 her life or her very soul itself ; but now that the imminent 
 danger was passed she began to revolve schemes to evade 
 her promise, and save Brandon notwithstanding. She knew 
 that under the present arrangement his life depended upon 
 her marriage, but she had never lost faith in her ability to 
 handle the king if she had but a little time in which to op 
 erate, and had secretly regretted that she had not, in place 
 of flight, opened up her campaign along the line of femi 
 nine diplomacy at the very beginning. 
 
 Henry was a dullard mentally, while Mary s mind was 
 keen and alert two facts of which the girl was perfectly 
 aware so it was no wonder she had such confidence in 
 herself. When she first heard of Brandon s sentence her 
 fear for him was so great, and the need for action so 
 urgent, that she could not resort to her usual methods for 
 turning matters her way, but eagerly applied the first and 
 quickest remedy offered. Now, however, that she had a 
 breathing spell, and time in which to operate her more 
 slowly moving, but, as she thought, equally sure forces of 
 cajolery and persuasion, she determined to marshal the 
 legions of her wit and carry war into the enemy s country 
 at once. 
 
 Henry s brutal selfishness in forcing upon her the 
 French marriage, together with his cruel condemnation of 
 Brandon, and his vile insinuations against herself, had 
 driven nearly every spark of affection for her brother from 
 
PROSERPINA 255 
 
 her heart. But she felt that she might feign an affection 
 she did not feel, and that what she so wanted would be 
 cheap at the price. Cheap ? It would be cheap at the cost 
 of her immortal soul. Cheap? What she wanted was 
 life s condense d sweets the man she loved ; and what she 
 wanted to escape was life s distilled bitterness marriage 
 with the man she loathed. None but a pure woman can 
 kno v the torture of that. I saw this whole disastrous 
 campaign from start to finish. Mary began with a wide 
 flank movement conducted under masked batteries and 
 skillfully executed. She sighed over her troubles and 
 cried a great deal, but told the king he had been such a 
 dear, kind brother to her that she would gladly do any 
 thing to please him and advance his interests. She said it 
 would be torture to live with that old creature, King 
 Louis, but she would do it willingly to help her handsome 
 brother, no matter how much she might suffer. 
 
 The king laughed and said : "Poor old Louis ! What 
 about him? What about his suffering? He thinks he is 
 making such a fine bargain, but the Lord pity him, when 
 he has my little sister in his side for a thorn. He had 
 better employ some energetic soul to prick him with nee 
 dles and bodkins, for I think there is more power for 
 disturbance in this little body than in any other equal 
 amount of space in all the universe. You will furnish him 
 all the trouble he wants, won t you, sister ?" 
 
 "I shall try," said the princess demurely, perfectly will 
 ing to obey in everything. 
 
 Devil a doubt of that, and you will succeed too, or my 
 crown s a stew-pan," and he laughed at the huge joke he 
 was about to perpetrate on his poor, old royal brother. 
 
 It would seem that the tremendous dose of flattery ad 
 ministered by Mary would have been so plainly self-inter- 
 
256 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 ested as to alarm the dullest perception, but Henry s vanity 
 was so dense, and his appetite for flattery so great, that he 
 accepted it all without suspicion, and it made him quite 
 affable and gracious. 
 
 Mary kept up her show of affection and docile obedi 
 ence for a week or two until she thought Henry s suspi 
 cions were allayed ; and then, after having done enough 
 petting and fondling, as she thought, to start the earth 
 itself a-moving as some men are foolish enough to say 
 it really does she began the attack direct by putting her 
 arms about the king s neck, and piteously begging him not 
 to sacrifice her whole life by sending- her to France. 
 
 Her pathetic soul-charged appeal might have softened 
 the heart of Caligula himself; but Henry was not even 
 cruel. He was simply an animal so absorbed in himself 
 that he could not feel for others. 
 
 "Oh! it is out at last," he said with a laugh. "I 
 thought all this sweetness must have been for something. 
 So the lady wants her Brandon and doesn t want her 
 Louis, yet is willing to obey her dear, kind brother ? Well, 
 we ll take her at her word and let her obey. You may as 
 well understand, once and for all, that you are to go to 
 France. You promised to go decently if I would not cut 
 off that fellow s head, and now I tell you that if I hear 
 another whimper from you off it comes, and you will go to 
 France too." 
 
 This brought Mary to terms quickly enough. It touched 
 her one vulnerable spot her love. 
 
 "I will go ; I promise it again. You shall never hear 
 another word of complaint from me if you give me your 
 royal word that no harm shall come to him to him," and 
 she put her hands over her face to conceal her tears as she 
 softly wept. 
 
PROSERPINA 257 
 
 "The day you sail for France, Brandon shall go free and 
 shall again have his old post at court. I like the fellow 
 as a good companion, and really believe you are more to 
 blame than he." 
 
 "I am all to blame, and am ready this day to pay the 
 penalty. I am at your disposal to go when and where 
 you choose," answered Alary most pathetically. 
 
 Poor, fair Proserpina, with no kind mother Demeter to 
 help her. The ground will soon open, and Pluto will have 
 his bride. 
 
 That evening- Cavendish took me aside and said his mas 
 ter, Wolsey, wished to speak to me privately at a conveni 
 ent opportunity. So, when the bishop left his card-table, 
 an hour later, I threw myself in his way. He spoke gayly 
 to me, and we walked down the corridor arm in arm. I 
 could not imagine what was wanted, but presently it came 
 out : "My dear Caskoden ;" had I been one for whom he 
 could have had any use I should have grown suspicious. 
 "My dear Caskoden, I know I can trust you; especially 
 when that which I have to say is for the happiness of your 
 friends. I am sure you will never name me in connection 
 with the suggestion I am about to make, and will use the 
 thought only as your own." 
 
 I did not know what was coming, but gave him the 
 strongest assurance of my trustworthiness. 
 
 "It is this : Louis of France is little better than a dead 
 man. King Henry, perhaps, is not fully aware of this, 
 and, if he is, he has never considered the probability of his 
 speedy death. The thought occurred to me that although 
 the princess can not dissuade her brother from this mar 
 riage, she may be able, in visw of her ready and cheerful 
 compliance, to extract some virtue out cf her sore neces 
 sity and induce him to promise that, in case of the death 
 i? 
 
258 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 , of Louis, she herself shall choose her second husband." 
 \ "My lord," I replied, quickly grasping the point: "It 
 j is small wonder you rule this land. You have both brain 
 j and heart." 
 
 "I thank you, Sir Edwin, and hope that both may 
 always be at the service of you and your friends." 
 
 I gave the suggestion to Mary as my own, recommend 
 ing that she proffer her request to the king in the presence 
 of Wolsey, and, although she had little faith or hope, she 
 determined to try. 
 
 Within a day or two an opportunity offered, and she 
 said to Henry : "I am ready to go to France any time you 
 wish, and shall do it decently and willingly ; but if I do so 
 much for you, brother, you might at least promise me that 
 when King Louis is dead I may marry whomsoever I 
 wish. He will probably live forever, but let me have at 
 least that hope to give me what cheer it may while I suf 
 fer." 
 
 The ever-present Wolsey, who was standing near and 
 heard Mary s petition, interposed: "Let me add my 
 prayer to that of her highness. We must give her her own 
 way in something." 
 
 Mary was such a complete picture of wretchedness that 
 I thought at the time she had really found a tender spot in 
 Henry s heart, for he gave the promise. Since then I have 
 learned, as you will shortly, that it was given simply to 
 pacify the girl, and without any intention whatever of 
 being kept ; but that, in case of the death of King Louis, 
 Henry intended again to use his sister to his own advan 
 tage. 
 
 To be a beautiful princess is not to enjoy the bliss some 
 people imagine. The earth is apt to open at any time, and 
 Pluto to snatch her away to the Lord knows where. 
 
PROSERPINA 259 
 
 Alary again poured out her soul on paper a libation in 
 tended for Brandon. I had made a dozen attempts, in as 
 many different ways, to deliver her letters, but every effort 
 was a failure, and this missive met the fate of the others. 
 De Longueville kept close watch on his master s rival, and 
 complained to Henry about these attempts at communica 
 tion. Henry laughed and said he would see that they 
 were stopped, but paid no more attention to the matter. 
 
 If Mary, before her interview with Henry, had been 
 averse to the French marriage, she was now equally 
 anxious to hurry it on, and longed to go upon the rack in 
 order that Brandon might be free. He, of course, objected 
 as strenuously as possible to the purchase of his life by her 
 marriage to Louis, but his better judgment told him in 
 fact, had told him from the first that she would be com 
 pelled eventually to marry the French king, and common 
 sense told him if it must be, she might as well save his life 
 at the same time. Furthermore, he felt a certain sense of 
 delight in owing his life to her, and knew that the fact that 
 she had saved him that her sacrifice had not all been in 
 vain would make it easier for her to bear. 
 
 The most beautiful feature of the relations between 
 these two lovers was their entire faith in each other. The 
 way of their true love was at least not roughened by cob 
 ble-stones of doubt, however impassable it was from 
 mountains of opposition. 
 
 My inability to deliver Mary s letters did not deter her 
 from writing them ; and as she was to be married in a few 
 days de Longueville to act as proxy she devoted her 
 entire time to her letters, and wrote pages upon pages, 
 w r hich she left with me to be delivered "after death," as 
 she called her marriage. 
 
 At this time I was called away from court for a day or 
 
260 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 two, and when I returned and called upon Brandon at the 
 Tower, I found him whistling and singing, apparently as 
 happy as a lark. "You heartless dog," thought I, at first ; 
 but I soon found that he felt more than happiness exal 
 tation. 
 
 "Have you seen her? I asked. 
 
 "Who ?" As if there were more than one woman in all 
 the world for him. 
 
 "The princess." 
 
 "Not since I left her at Bristol." 
 
 1 believed then, and believe now, that this was a point 
 blank falsehood a very unusual thing for Brandon but 
 for some reason probably necessary in this case. 
 
 There was an expression in his face which I could not 
 interpret, but he wrote, as if carelessly scribbling on a 
 scrap of paper that lay upon, the table, the words, "Be 
 careful," and I took the hint we were watched. There is 
 an unpleasant sensation when one feels that he is watched 
 by unseen eyes, and after talking for awhile on common 
 topics I left and took a boat for Greenwich. 
 
 When I arrived at the palace and saw Mary, what was 
 my surprise to find her as bright and jubilant as i had left 
 Brandon. She, too, laughed and sang, and was so happy 
 that she lighted the whole room. What did it all mean? 
 There was but one explanation ; they had met, and there 
 was some new plan on foot with a fatal ending. The 
 next failure would mean death to Brandon, as certainly 
 as the sun rises in the east. What the plan was I could 
 not guess. With Brandon in the Tower under guard both 
 day and night, and Mary as closely guarded in the palace, 
 I could not see any way of escape for either of them, nor 
 how they could possibly have come together. 
 
 Brandon had not told me, I supposed, for fear of being 
 
PROSERPINA 261 
 
 overheard, and Mary, although she had the opportunity, 
 was equally non-communicative, so I had recourse to Jane 
 upon the first occasion. She, by-the-way, was as blue and 
 sad-faced as Mary was joyous. I asked her if the princess 
 and Brandon had met, and she sadly said: "I do not 
 know. We went down to London yesterday, and as we 
 returned stopped at Bridewell House, where we found the 
 king and Wolsey. The princess left the room saying she 
 would return in a few minutes, and then Wolsey went out, 
 leaving me alone with the king. Mary did not return for 
 half an hour, and she may have seen Master Brandon 
 during that time. I do not understand how the meeting 
 could have occurred, but that is the only time she has been 
 away from me." Here Jane deliberately put her head on 
 my shoulder and began to weep piteously. 
 
 "What is the trouble ?" I asked. 
 
 She shook her head : "I can not, dare not tell you." 
 
 "Oh! but you must, you must," and I insisted so em 
 phatically that she at length said : 
 
 "The king!" 
 
 "The king ! God in heaven, Jane, tell me quickly." I 
 had noticed Henry of late casting glances at my beautiful 
 little Jane, and had seen him try to kiss her a few days 
 before, as I have told you. This annoyed me very much, 
 but I thought little of it, as it was his habit to ogle every 
 pretty face. When urged, Jane said between her sobs: 
 "He tried to kiss me and to mistreat me when Wolsey 
 left the room at Bridewell House. I may have been used 
 to detain him, while Mary met Master Brandon, but if so, 
 I am sure she knew nothing of it." 
 
 "And what did you do?" 
 
 "I struggled away from him and snatched this dagger 
 from my breast, telling him that if u e took but ne step 
 
262 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 toward me I would plunge it in my heart ; and he said I 
 was a fool." 
 
 "God keep you always a fool," said I prayerfully. 
 "How long has this been going on? 9 
 
 "A month or two ; but I have always been able to run 
 away from him. He has been growing more importunate 
 of late, so I bought a dagger that very day, and had it not 
 one hour too soon." With this she drew out a gleaming 
 little weapon that flashed in the rays of the candle. 
 
 This was trouble in earnest for me, and I showed it very 
 plainly. Then Jane timidly put her hand in mine, for the 
 first time in her life, and murmured : 
 
 "We will be married, Edwin, if you wish, before we 
 return from France." She was glad to fly to me to save 
 herself from Henry, and I was glad even to be the lesser 
 of two evils. 
 
 As to whether my two friends met or not that day at 
 Bridewell I can not say ; but I think they did. They had 
 in some way come to an understanding that lightened 
 both their hearts before Mary left for France, and this had 
 been their only possible opportunity. Jane and I were al 
 ways taken into their confidence on other occasions, but as 
 to this meeting, if any there was, we have never been told 
 a word. My belief is that the meeting was contrived by 
 Wolsey upon a solemn promise from Brandon and Mary 
 never to reveal it, and if so, they have sacredly kept their 
 word. 
 
 On the 13th of August, 1514, Mary Tudor, with her 
 
 golden hair falling over her shoulders, was married at 
 
 Greenwich to Louis de Valois ; de Longueville acting as 
 
 i his French majesty s proxy. Poor, fair, Proserpina I . . . 
 
 Note. Maidens only were married with their hair down. It 
 was "the sacred token of maidenhood." Editor, 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 DOWN INTO FRANCE 
 
 So it came to pass that Mary was married unto Louis 
 and went down into France. 
 
 [Again the editor takes the liberty of substituting Hall s 
 quaint account of Mary s journey to France.] 
 
 Then when all things were redy for the conueyaunce of this 
 noble Ladye, the kyng her brother in the moneth of Auguste, 
 and the xV daye, with the quene his wife and his sayde sister 
 and al the court came to Douer and there taryed, for the wynde 
 was troblous and the wether fowle, in so muche that shippe of 
 the kynges called the Libeck of IXC. tonne was dryuen a shore 
 before Sangate and there brase & of VI C. men scantely es 
 caped iiiC and yet the most part of them were hurt with the 
 wrecke. When the wether was fay re, then al her wardrobe, 
 stable, and riches was shipped, and such as were appoyncted 
 to geue their attendaunce on her as the duke of Norfolke, the 
 Marques of Dorset, the Bysshop of Durham, the Earle of Surrey, 
 the lorde Delawar, sir Thomas Bulle} n and many other knights, 
 Squyers, getlemen & ladies, al these went to shippe and the 
 sayde ladye toke her leaue of the quene in the castell of Douer, 
 and the king brought her to the sea syde, and kissed her, and 
 betoke her to GOD and the fortune of the see and to the 
 gouernaunce of the French king her husband. Thus at the 
 hower of foure of the clock in the morenynge thys fayre ladye 
 toke her shippe with al her noble compaignie: and when they 
 had sayled a quarter of the see, the wynde rose and seuered 
 some of the shippes to Cayles, and some in Flaunders and her 
 shippe with greate difficultie to Bulleyn, and with greate ieop- 
 ardy at the entrying of the hauen, for the master ran the shippe 
 hard ou shore, but the botes were redy and receyued this noble 
 
 (263) 
 
264 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 ladye, and at the landyng Sir Christopher Garnysha stode in 
 the water and toke her in his armes, and so caryed her to land, 
 where the Duke of Vandosme and a Cardynall with many es 
 tates receyued her, and her ladies, and welcommed all the noble 
 men into the cotmtrey, and so the quene and all her trayne came 
 to Bulleyn and ther rested, and from thence she remoued by 
 dyuerse lodgynges tyll she came all most within iii miles of 
 Abtiyle besyde the forrest of Arders, and ther kynge Loyes 
 vppon a greate courser met her, (which he so longe desired) 
 but she toke her way righte on, not stopping to conurse. Then 
 he returned to Abuyle by a secret waye, & she was with greate 
 triumphe, procession & pagiantes receyued into the toune of 
 Abuyle the VIII day of October by the Dolphin, which receyued 
 her with greate honor. She was appeareilled in cloth of siluer, 
 her horse was trapped in goldsmythes work very rychly. After 
 her followed xxxvi ladies al ther palfreys trapped with crymsyn 
 veluet, embraudered: after the folowed one charyott of cloth 
 of tyssue, the seconde clothe of golde and the third Crymsyn 
 veluet embraudered with the kynges armes & hers, full of roses. 
 After them folowed a greate nomber of archers and then wagons 
 laden with their stuf. Greate was the riches in plate, iuels, 
 money, and hangynges that this ladye brought into France. 
 The Moday beyng the daye of Sayncte Denyce, the same kynge 
 Leyes maried the lady Mary in the greate church of Abuyle, 
 bothe appareled in goldesmythes woorke. After the masse was 
 done ther was a greate banket and fest and the ladyes of Eng 
 land highlj entreteyned. 
 
 The Tewesdaye beyng the x daye of October all the English 
 men except a fewe that wer officers with the sayde quene were 
 discharged whiche was a greate sorowe for theim, for some had 
 serued her longe in the hope of preferment and some that had 
 honest romes left them to serue hei and now they wer out of 
 seruice, which caused the to take thought in so much, some 
 dyed by way returning, and some fell mad, but ther was no 
 remedy. After the English lordes had done ther commission 
 the French kynge wylled the to take no lenger payne & so gaue 
 to theim good rewardes and they toke ther leaue of the quene 
 and returned. 
 
 Then the Dolphyn of Fraunce called "JFratmcys duSTe of Valoys, 
 
DOWN INTO FRANCE 265 
 
 or Fraunceys d Angouleme, caused a solempne iustes to be 
 proclaymed, which shoulde be kept in Parys in the moneth of 
 Noueber next ensuyng, and while al these thinges were pre- 
 pearyng, the Ladye Alary, the V. daye of Noueber, then beying 
 Sondaye was with greate solempnitee crowned Queen of 
 Fraunce in the monasterye of Saynct Denyce, and the Lorde 
 Dolphyn, who was young, but very toward, al the season held 
 the crowune ouer her hed, because it was of greate waight, to 
 her greuaunce. 
 
 Madame Mary took her time, since a more deliberate 
 journey bride never made to waiting bridegroom. She 
 was a study during this whole period weeping and angry 
 by turns. She, who had never known a moment s illness 
 in all her days, took to her bed upon two occasions from 
 sheer antipathetic nervousness, and would rest her head 
 upon Jane s breast and cry out little, half-articulate prayers 
 to God that she might not kill the man who was her hus 
 band, when they should meet. 
 
 When we met the king about a league this side of Abbe 
 ville, and when Mary beheld him with the shadow of death 
 upon his brow, she took hope, for she knew he would be 
 but putty in her hands, so manifestly weak was he, men 
 tally and physically. As he came up she whipped her 
 horse and rode by him at a gallop, sending me back with 
 word that he must not be so ardent; that he frightened 
 her, poor, timid little thing, so afraid of nothing in the 
 world. This shocked the French courtiers, and one would 
 think would have offended Louis, but he simply grinned 
 from ear to ear, showing his yellow fangs, and said whim 
 peringly : Oh, the game is worth the trouble. Tell her 
 majesty I wait at Abbeville. 
 
 The old king had ridden a horse to meet his bride in 
 order that he might appear more gallantly before her, but 
 
266 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 a litter was waiting to take him back to Abbeville by & 
 shorter route, and they were married again in person. 
 [Again a quotation from Hall is substituted] : 
 
 Mondaye the .vi daye of Noueber, ther the sayde quene was 
 receyued into the cytee of Parys after the order thar foloweth. 
 First the garde of the cytee met her with oute Sayncte Denyce 
 al in coates of goldsmythes woorke with shippes gylt, and after 
 them mett her al the prestes and religious whiche were estemed 
 to be .iiiM. The quene was in a chyre coured about (but not 
 her ouer person) in white clothe of golde, the horses that 
 drewe it couered in clothe of golde, on her hed a coronall, al 
 of greate perles, her necke and brest full of luels, before her 
 wente a garde of Almaynes after ther fascion, and after them 
 al noblemen, as the Dolphyn, the Duke of Burbon, Cardynalles, 
 and a greate nomber of estates. Aboute her person rode the 
 kynge s garde the whiche wer Scottes. On the morowe bega 
 the iustes, and the quene stode so that al men might see her, 
 and wonder at her beautie, and the kynge was feble and lay 
 on a couche for weakenes. 
 
 So Mary was twice married to Louis, and, although she 
 was his queen fast and sure enough, she was not his wife. 
 
 You may say what you will, but I like a fighting 
 woman ; one with a touch of the savage in her when the 
 occasion arises ; one who can fight for what she loves as 
 well as against what she hates. She visually loves as she 
 fights with all her heart. 
 
 So Mary was crowned, and was now a queen, hedged 
 about by the tinseled divinity that hedgeth royalty. 
 
 It seemed that she was climbing higher and higher all 
 the time from Brandon, but in her heart every day brought 
 her nearer to him. 
 
 There was one thing that troubled her greatly, and all 
 the time. Henry had given his word that Brandon should 
 be liberated as soon as Mary had left the shores of Eng- 
 
DOWN INTO FRANCE 267 
 
 land, but we had heard nothing of this matter, although 
 we had received several letters from home. A doubt of 
 her brother, in whom she had little faith at best, made an 
 ache at her heart, which seemed at times likely to break 
 it so she said. One night she dreamed that she had wit 
 nessed Brandon s execution; her brother standing by in 
 excellent humor at the prank he was playing- her, and it so 
 worked upon her waking hours that by evening she was 
 ill. At last I received a letter from Brandon which had 
 been delayed along the road containing one for Mary. 
 It told of his full pardon and restoration to favor, greater 
 even than before ; and her joy was so sweet and quiet, and 
 yet so softly delirious, that I tell you plainly it brought 
 tears to my eyes and I could not hold them back. 
 
 The marriage, when once determined upon, had not cast 
 her down nearly so deep as I had expected, and soon she 
 grew to be quite cheerful and happy. This filled me with 
 regret, for I thought of how Brandon must suffer, and felt 
 that her heart was a poor, flimsy thing to take this trouble 
 so lightly. 
 
 I spoke to Jane about it, out she only laughed. "Mary 
 is all right," said she ; "do not fear. Matters will turn out 
 better than you think, perhaps. You know she generally 
 manages to have her own way in the end." 
 
 "If you have any comfort to give, please give it, Jane. 
 I feel most keenly for Brandon, heart-tied to such a will 
 ful, changeable creature as Mary." 
 
 "Sir Edwin Caskoden, you need not take the trouble to 
 speak to me at all unless you can use language more re 
 spectful concerning my mistress. The queen knows what 
 she is about, but it appears that you can not see it. I see 
 it plainly enough, although no word has ever been spoken 
 to me on the subject. As to Brandon being tied to her, it 
 
268 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 seems to me she is tied to him, and that he holds the reins. 
 He could drive her into the mouth of purgatory/* 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 I remained in thought a moment or two, and concluded 
 that she was right. In truth, the time had come to me 
 when I believed that Jane, with her good sense and acute 
 discernment, could not be wrong in anything, and I think 
 so yet. So I took comfort on faith from her, and asked : 
 "Do you remember what you said should happen before 
 we return to England ?" 
 
 Jane hung her head. "I remember." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 She then put her hand in mine and murmured, "I am 
 ready any time you wish." 
 
 Great heaven ! I thought I should go out of my senses. 
 She should have told me gradually. I had to do some 
 thing to express my exultation, so I walked over to a 
 bronze statue of Bacchus, about my size that is, height 
 put my hat which I had been carrying under my arm 
 on his head, cut a few capers in an entirely new and 
 equally antic step, and then drew back and knocked that 
 Bacchus down. Jane thought I had gone stark mad, and 
 her eyes grew big with wonder, but I walked proudly back 
 to her after my victory over Bacchus, and reassured her 
 with a few of Mary s messages that I had still left over, 
 if the truth must be told. Then we made arrangements 
 that resulted in our marriage next morning. 
 
 Accordingly, Queen Mary and one or two others went 
 with us down to a little church, where, as fortune would 
 have it, there was a little priest ready to join together in 
 the holy bonds of wedlock little Jane and little me. Every 
 thing so appropriate, you see; I suppose in the whole 
 
k MARY . . . SAID MT WAS LIKE 
 A PLAY WEDDING. " 
 
DOWN INTO FRANCE 269 
 
 world we couldn t have found another set of conditions so 
 harmonious. Mary laughed and cried, and laughed again, 
 and clapped her hands over and over, and said it was "like 
 a play wedding ;" and, as she kissed Jane, quietly slipped 
 over her head a beautiful diamond necklace that was 
 worth full ten thousand pounds aside, that is, from the 
 millions of actual value, because it came from Mary. "A 
 play wedding" it was; and a play life it has been ever 
 since. 
 
 We were barely settled at court in Paris when Mary be 
 gan to put her plans in motion and unsettle things gener 
 ally. I could not but recall Henry s sympathy toward 
 Louis, for the young queen soon took it upon herself to 
 make life a burden to the Father of his People ; and, in that 
 particular line, I suppose she had no equal in all the length 
 and breadth of Christendom. 
 
 I heartily detested King Louis, largely, I think, because 
 of prejudice absorbed from Man-, but he was, in fact, a 
 fairly good old man, and at times I could but pity him. 
 He was always soft in heart and softer in head, especially 
 where women were concerned. Take his crazy attempt to 
 seize the Countess of Croy while he was yet Duke of Or 
 leans ; and his infatuation for the Italian woman, for whom 
 he built the elaborate burial vault much it must have 
 comforted her. Then his marriage to dictatorial little 
 Anne of Brittany, for whom he had induced Pope Alex 
 ander to divorce him from the poor little crippled owlet, 
 Joan. In consideration of this divorce he had put Caesar 
 Borgia, Pope Alexander s son, on his feet financially and 
 politically. I think he must have wanted the owlet back 
 again before he was done with Anne, because Anne was a 
 termagant and ruled him with the heaviest rod of iron 
 she could lift. But this last passion the flickering, sput- 
 
270 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 tering flame of his dotage was the worst of all, both sub 
 jectively and objectively ; both as to his senile fondness for 
 the English princess and her impish tormenting of him. 
 From the first he evinced the most violent delight in Mary, 
 who repaid it by holding him off and evading him in a 
 manner so cool, audacious and adroit, that it ^tamped her 
 queen of all the arts feminine and demoniac. Pardon me, 
 ladies, if I couple these two arts, but you must admit they 
 are at times somewhat akin. Scon she eluded him so com 
 pletely that for days he would not have a glimpse of her, 
 while she was perhaps riding, walking or coquetting with 
 some of the court gallants, who aided and abetted her in 
 every way they could. He became almost frantic in pur 
 suit of his elusive bride, and would expostulate with her, 
 when he could catch her, and smile uneasily, like a man 
 who is the victim of a practical joke of which he does not 
 see, or enjoy, the point. On such occasions she would 
 laugh in his face, then grow angry which was so easy 
 for her to do and, I grieve to say, would sometimes al 
 most swear at him in a manner to make the pious, though 
 ofttimes lax-virtued, court ladies shudder with horror. 
 She would at other times make sport of his youthful ardor, 
 and tell him in all seriousness that it was indecorous for 
 him to behave so and frighten her, a poor, timid little 
 child, with his impetuosities. Then she would manage to 
 give him the slip ; and he would go off and play a game of 
 cards with himself, firmly convinced in his own feeble way 
 that woman s nature had a tincture of the devil in it. He 
 was the soul of conciliatory kindness to the young vixen, 
 but at times she would break violently into tears, accuse 
 him of cruelly mistreating her, a helpless woman and a 
 stranger in his court, and threaten to go home to dear old 
 England and tell her brother King Henry all about it, and 
 
DOWN INTO FRANCE 271 
 
 have him put things to right and redress her wrongs gen 
 erally. In fact, she acted the part of injured innocence so 
 perfectly that the poor old man would apologize for the 
 wrongs she invented, and try to coax her into a good 
 humor. Thereupon she would weep more bitterly than 
 ever, grow hysterical and require to be carried off by her 
 women, when recovery and composure were usually in 
 stantaneous. Of course the court gossips soon carried 
 stones of these quick recoveries to the king, and, when he 
 spoke to Mary of them, she put on her injured air again 
 and turned the tables by upbraiding him for believing such 
 calumnies about her, who was so good to him and loved 
 him so dearly. 
 
 I tell you it is a waste of time to fight against that as 
 sumption of injured innocence that impregnable femi 
 nine redoubt and when the enemy once gets fairly behind 
 it one might as well raise the siege. I think it the most 
 amusing, exasperating and successful defense and counter 
 attack in the whole science of war, and every woman has 
 it at her finger-tips, ready for immediate use upon occa 
 sion. 
 
 Mary would often pout for days together and pretend 
 illness. Upon one occasion she kept the king waiting at 
 her door all morning, while she, having slipped through 
 the window, was riding- with some of the young people in 
 the forest. When she returned through the window 
 she went to the door and scolded the poor old king for 
 keeping her waiting penned up in her room all morning. 
 And he apologized. 
 
 She changed the dinner hour to noon in accordance with 
 the English custom, and had a heavy supper at night, 
 when she would make the king gorge himself with un- 
 healthful food and coax him "to drink as much as brother 
 
272 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 Henry," which invariably resulted in Louis de Valois find 
 ing lodgment under the table. This amused the whole 
 court, except a few old cronies and physicians, who, of 
 course, were scandalized beyond measure. She took the 
 king on long rides with her on cold days, and would jolt 
 him almost to death, and freeze him until the cold tears 
 streamed down his poor pinched nose, making him feel 
 like a half animated icicle, and wish that he were one in 
 fact. 
 
 At night she would have her balls, and keep him up till 
 morning drinking and dancing, or trying to dance, with 
 her, until his poor old heels, and his head, too, for that 
 matter, were like to fall off; then she would slip away 
 from him and lock herself in her room. December, say I, 
 let May alone ; she certainly will kill you. Despite which 
 sound advice, I doubt not December will go on coveting 
 May up to the end of the chapter ; each old fellow being 
 such a fine man for his age, you understand fondly be 
 lieving himself an exception. Age in a fool is damnable. 
 
 Mary was killing Louis as certainly and deliberately as 
 if she were feeding him slow poison. He was very weak 
 and decrepit at best, being compelled frequently, upon 
 public occasions, such, for example, as the coronation 
 tournament of which I have spoken, to lie upon a couch. 
 
 Mary s conduct was really cruel! but then, remember 
 her provocation and that she was acting in self-defense. 
 All this was easier for her than you might suppose, for the 
 king s grasp of power, never very strong, was beginning 
 to relax even what little grip it had. All faces were turned 
 toward the rising- sun, young Francis, duke of Angouleme, 
 the king s distant cousin, who would soon be king in 
 Louis s place. As this young rising sun, himself vastly 
 smitten with Mary, openly encouraged her in what sh^ 
 
DOWN INTO FRANCE 273 
 
 did, the courtiers of course followed suit, and the old king 
 found himself surrounded by a court only too ready to be 
 amused by his lively young queen at his expense. 
 
 This condition of affairs Mary welcomed with her whole 
 soul, and to accent it and nail assurance, I fear, played 
 ever so lightly and coyly upon the heart-strings of the 
 young duke, which responded all too loudly to her velvet 
 touch, and almost frightened her to death with their vol 
 ume of sound later on. This Francis d Angouleme, the 
 dauphin, had fallen desperately in love with Mary at first 
 sight, an effect against which the fact that he was married 
 to Claude, daughter of Louis, in no way militated. He 
 was a very distant relative of Louis, going away back to 
 St. Louis for his heirship to the French crown. The king 
 had daughters in plenty, but as you know, the gallant 
 Frenchmen say, according to their Law Salic: "The 
 realm of France is so great and glorious a heritage that it 
 may not be taken by a woman." Too great and glorious 
 to be taken by a woman, forsooth ! France would have 
 been vastly better off had she been governed by a woman 
 now and then, for a country always prospers under a 
 queen. 
 
 Francis had for many years lived at court as the recog 
 nized heir, and as the custom was, called his distant cousin 
 Louis, "Uncle." "Uncle" Louis in turn called Francis "Ce 
 Gross Gar con" and Queen Mary called him "Monsieur, 
 mon beaufils," in a mock-motherly manner that was very 
 laughable. A mother of eighteen to a "good boy" of twen 
 ty-two! Dangerous relationship! And dangerous, in 
 deed, it would have been for Mary, had she not been as 
 pure and true as she was willful and impetuous. "Mon 
 beau fils" allowed neither his wife nor the respect he owed 
 the king to stand in the way of his very marked attention 
 
274 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 to the queen. His position as heir, and his long residence 
 at court, almost as son to Louis, gave him ample oppor 
 tunities for pressing his unseemly suit. He was the first 
 to see Mary at the meeting place this side of Abbeville, 
 and was the king s representative on all occasions. 
 
 "Beau fils" was quite a handsome fellow, but thought 
 himself vastly handsomer than he was; and had some 
 talents, which he was likewise careful to estimate at their 
 full value, to say the least. He was quite well liked by 
 women, and in turn considered himself irresistible. He 
 was very impressionable to feminine charms, was at heart 
 a libertine, and, as he grew older, became a debauchee 
 whose memory will taint France for centuries to come. 
 
 Mary saw his weakness more clearly than his wicked 
 ness, being- blinded to the latter by the veil of her own 
 innocence. She laughed at, and with him, and permitted 
 herself a great deal of his company ; so much, in fact, that 
 I grew a little jealous for Brandon s sake, and, if the truth 
 must be told, for the first time began to have doubts of 
 her. I seriously feared that when Louis should die, Bran 
 don might find a much more dangerous rival in the new 
 king, who, although married, would probably try to keep 
 Mary at his court, even should he be driven to the extreme 
 of divorcing Claude, as Claude s father had divorced Joan. 
 
 I believed, in case Mary should voluntarily prove false 
 and remain in France, either as the wife or mistress of 
 Francis, that Brandon would quietly but surely contrive 
 some means to take her life, and I hoped he would. I 
 spoke to my wife, Jane, about the queen s conduct, and 
 she finally admitted that she did not like it, so I, unable to 
 remain silent any longer, determined to put Mary on her 
 guard, and for that purpose spoke very freely to her on 
 the subject. 
 
DOWN INTO FRANCE 275 
 
 "Oh ! you goose ! she said laughingly. "He is almost 
 as great a fool as Henry." Then the tears came to her 
 eyes, and half angrily, half hysterically shaking me by the 
 arm she continued : "Do you not know ? Can you not see 
 that I would give this hand, or my eyes, almost my life, 
 just to fall upon my face in front of Charles Brandon at 
 this moment ? Do you not know that a woman with a love 
 in her heart such as I have for him is safe from every one 
 and everything? That it is her sheet anchor, sure and 
 fast ? Have you not wit enough to know that ?" 
 
 "Yes, I have," I responded, for the time completely si 
 lenced. With her favorite tactics, she had, as usual, put 
 me in the wrong, though I soon came again to the attack. 
 
 "But he is so base that I grieve to see you with him." 
 
 "I suppose he is not very good," she responded, "but it 
 seems to be the way of these people among whom I have 
 fallen, and he can not harm me." 
 
 "Oh ! but he can. One does not go near small-pox, and 
 there is a moral contagion quite as dangerous, if not so 
 perceptible, and equally to be avoided. It must be a won 
 derfully healthy moral nature, pure and chaste to the core, 
 that will be entirely contagion-proof and safe from it/ 
 
 She hung her head in thought, and then lifted her eyes 
 appealingly to me. "Am I not that, Edwin? Tell me! 
 Tell me frankly ; am I not ? It is the one thing of good I 
 have always striven for. I am so full of other faults that 
 if I have not that there is no good in me." Her eyes and 
 voice were full of tears, and I knew in my heart that I 
 stood before as pure a soul as ever came from the hand of 
 God. 
 
 "You are, your majesty ; never doubt," I answered. "It 
 is pre-eminently the one thing in womanhood to which all 
 mankind kneels." And I fell upon my knee and kissed her 
 
276 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 hand with a sense of reverence, faith and trust that has 
 never left me from that day to this. As to my estimate of 
 how Francis would act when Louis should die, you will see 
 that I was right. 
 
 Not long after this Lady Caskoden and I were given 
 permission to return to England, and immediately pre 
 pared for our homeward journey. 
 
 Ah! it was pretty to see Jane bustling about, making 
 ready for our departure superintending the packing of 
 our boxes and also superintending me. That was her 
 great task. I never was so thankful for riches as when 
 they enabled me to allow Jane full sway among the Paris 
 shops. But at last, all the fine things being packed, and 
 Mary having kissed us both mind you, both we got our 
 little retinue together and out we went, through St. Denis, 
 then ho ! for dear old England. 
 
 As we left, Mary placed in my hands a letter for Bran 
 don, whose bulk was so reassuring that I knew he had 
 never been out of her thoughts. I looked at the letter a 
 moment and said, in all seriousness : "Your majesty, had 
 I not better provide an extra box for it ?" 
 
 She gave a nervous little laugh, and the tears filled her 
 eyes, as she whispered huskily : "I fancy there is one who 
 will not think it too large. Good-bye ! good-bye !" So we 
 left Mary, fair, sweet girl-queen, all alone among those 
 terrible strangers; alone with one little English maiden, 
 seven years of age Anne Boleyn. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 
 
 Upon our return to England I left Jane down in Suffolk 
 with her uncle, Lord Bolingbroke, having determined 
 never to permit her to come within sight of King Henry 
 again, if I could prevent it. I then went up to London 
 with the twofold purpose of seeing Brandon and resign 
 ing my place as Master of the Dance. 
 
 When I presented myself to the king and told him of 
 my marriage, he flew into a great passion because we had 
 not asked his consent. One of his whims was that every 
 one must ask his permission to do anything; to eat, or 
 sleep, or say one s prayers ; especially to marry, if the lady 
 w r as of a degree entitled to be a king s ward. Jane, fortu 
 nately, had no estate, the king s father having stolen it 
 from her when she was an infant ; so all the king could do 
 about our marriage was to grumble, which I let him do to 
 his heart s content. 
 
 "I wish also to thank your majesty for the thousand 
 kindnesses you have shcun me," I said, "and, although it 
 grieves me to the heart to separate from you, circum 
 stances compel me to tender my resignation as your Mas 
 ter of Dance." Upon this he was kind enough to express 
 regret, and ask me to reconsider ; but I stood my ground 
 firmly, and then and there ended my official relations with 
 Henry Tudor forever. 
 
 Upon taking my leave of the king I sought for Brandon, 
 whom I found comfortably ensconced in our old quarters, 
 
 (277) 
 
278 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 he preferring them to much more pretentious apartments 
 offered him in another part of the palace. The king had 
 given him some new furnishings for them, and as I was to 
 remain a few days to attend to some matters of business, 
 he invited me to share his comfort with him, and I gladly 
 _ did so. 
 
 Those few days with Brandon were my farewell to in 
 dividuality. Thereafter I was to be so mysteriously inter 
 mingled with Jane that I was only a part and a small part 
 at that I fear of two. I did not, o course, regret the 
 change, since it was the one thing in life I most longed for, 
 yet the period was tinged with a faint sentiment of pathos 
 at parting from the old life that had been so kind to me, 
 and which I was leaving forever. I say I did not regret it, 
 and though I was leaving my old haunts and companions 
 \ and friends so dear to me, I was finding them all again in 
 ~Jane, who was friend as well as wife. 
 
 Mary s letter was in one of my boxes which had been 
 delayed, and Jane was to forward it to me when it should 
 come. When I told Brandon of it, I dwelt with emphasis 
 upon its bulk, and he, of course, was delighted, and im 
 patient to have it. I had put the letter in the box, but there 
 was something else which Mary had sent to him that I had 
 carried with me. It was a sum of money sufficient to pay 
 the debt against his father s estate, and in addition, to buy 
 some large tracts of land adjoining. Brandon did not hes 
 itate to accept the money, and seemed glad that it had 
 come from Mary, she, doubtless, being the only person 
 from whom he would have taken it. 
 
 One of Brandon s sisters had married a rich merchant at 
 Ipswich, and another was soon to marry a Scotch gentle 
 man. The brother would probably never marry, so Bran 
 don would eventually have to take charge of the estates. 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 279 
 
 In fact, he afterwards lived there many years, and as Jane 
 and I had purchased a little estate near by, which had been 
 generously added_to by Jane s uncle, we saw a great deal 
 of him. But I am getting ahead of my story again. 
 
 The d Angouleme complication troubled me greatly, 
 notwithstanding my faith in Alary, and although I had re 
 solved to say nothing to Brandon about it, I soon told him 
 plainly what I thought and feared. 
 
 He replied with a low, contented little laugh. 
 
 "Do not fear for Mary, I do not. That young fellow is 
 of different stuff, I know, than the old king, but I have all 
 faith in her purity and ability to take care of herself. Be 
 fore she left she promised to be true to me, whatever be 
 fell, and I trust her entirely. I am not so unhappy by any 
 means as one would expect. Am I?" And I was com 
 pelled to admit that he certainly was not. 
 
 So it seems they had met, as Jane and I suspected, but 
 how Mary managed it I am sure I can not tell ; she beat 
 the very deuce for having her own way, by hook or by 
 crook. Then came the bulky letter, which Brandon 
 pounced upon and eagerly devoured. I leave out most of 
 the sentimental passages, which, like effervescent wine, 
 lost flavor quickly. She said in part : 
 
 "To Master Brandon: 
 
 "Sir and Dear Friend, Greeting After leaving thee, 
 long time had I that mighty grief and dole within my 
 heart that it was like to break ; for my separation from 
 thee was so much harder to bear even than I had taken 
 thought of, and I also doubted me that I could live in 
 Paris, as I did \vish. Sleep rested not upon my weary 
 eyes, and of a very deed could I neither eat nor drink, 
 since food distasted me like a nausea, and wine did 
 
280 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 strangle in my throat. This lasted through my journey 
 hither, which I did prolong upon many pretexts, nearly 
 two months, but when I did at last rest mine eyes for the 
 first time upon this King Louis s face, I well knew that I 
 could rule him, and when I did arrive, and had adjusted 
 myself in this Paris, I found it so easy that my heart 
 leaped for very joy. Beauty goeth so far with this inflam 
 mable people that easily do I rule them all, and truly doth 
 a servile subject make a sharp, capricious tyrant. Thereby 
 the misfortune which hath come upon us is of so much less 
 evil, and is so like to be of such short duration, that I am 
 almost happy but for lack of thee and sometimes think 
 that after all it may verily be a blessing unseen. 
 
 "This new, unexpected face upon our trouble hath so 
 driven the old gnawing ache out of my heart that I love to 
 be alone, and dream, open-eyed, of the time, of a surety 
 not far off, when I shall be with thee. ... It is ofttimes 
 sore hard for me, who have never waited, to have to w^ait, 
 like a patient Griselda, which of a truth I am not, for this 
 which I do so want ; but I try to make myself content with 
 the thought that full sure it will not be for long, and that 
 when this tedious time hath spent itself, we shall look back 
 upon it as a very soul-school, and shall rather joy that we 
 did not purchase our heaven too cheaply. 
 
 "I said I find it easy to live here as I wish, and did begin 
 to tell thee how it was, when I ran off into telling of how 
 I long for thee ; so I will try again. This Louis, to begin 
 with, is but the veriest shadow of a man, of whom thou 
 needst have not one jealous thought. He is on a bed of 
 sickness most of the time, of his own accord, and if, per 
 chance, he be but fairly well a day or so, I do straightway 
 make him ill again in one way or another, and, please God, 
 hope to wear him out entirely ere long time. Of a deed, 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 281 
 
 brother Henry was right ; better had it been for Louis to 
 have married a human devil than me, for it maketh a very 
 one out of me if mine eyes but rest upon him, and thou 
 knowest full well what kind of a devil I make brother 
 Henry knoweth, at any rate. For all this do I grieve, but 
 have no remedy, nor want one. I sometimes do almost 
 compassionate the old king, but I can not forbear, for he 
 turneth my very blood to biting gall, and must e en take 
 the consequences of his own folly. Truly is he wild for 
 love of me, this poor old man, and the more I hold him at a 
 distance the more he fondly dotes. I do verily believe he 
 would try to stand upon his foolish old head, did I but in 
 sist. I sometimes have a thought to make him try it. He 
 doeth enough that is senseless and absurd, in all con 
 science, as it is. At all of this do the courtiers smile, and 
 laugh, and put me forward to other pranks ; that is, all but 
 a few of the elders, who shake their heads, but dare do 
 nothing else for fear of the dauphin, who will soon be 
 king, and who stands first in urging and abetting me. So 
 it is easy for me to do what I wish, and above all to leave 
 undone that which I wish not, for I do easily rule them 
 all, as good Sir Edwin and dear Jane will verify. I have a 
 ball every night, wherein I do make a deal of amusement 
 for every one by dancing La Volta with his majesty until 
 his heels, and his poor old head, too, are like to fall off. 
 Others importune me for those dances, especially the 
 dauphin, but I laugh and shake my head and say that I 
 will dance with no one but the king, because he dances so 
 well. This pleases his majesty mightily, and maketh an 
 opening for me to avoid the touch of other men, for I am 
 jealous of myself for thy sake, and save and garner every 
 little touch for thee .... Sir Edwin will tell you I dance 
 with no one else and surely never will. You remember 
 
282 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 well, I doubt not, when thou first did teach me this new 
 dance. Ah ! how delightful it was ! and yet how at first it 
 did frighten and anger me. Thou canst not know how my 
 heart beat during all the time of that first dance. I 
 thought, of a surety, it would burst; and then the wild 
 thrill of frightened ecstasy that made my blood run like 
 fire! I knew it must be wrong, for it was, in truth, too 
 sweet a thing to be right. And then I grew angry at thee 
 as the cause of my wrong-doing and scolded thee, and re 
 pented it, as usual. Truly didst thou conquer, not win me. 
 Then afterwards, withal it so frightened me, how I longed 
 to dance again, and could in no way stay myself from ask 
 ing. At times could I hardly wait till evening fell, and 
 when upon occasion thou didst not come, I was so angry I 
 said I hated thee. What must thou have thought of me, 
 so forward and bold ! And that afternoon ! Ah ! I think 
 of it every hour, and see and hear it all, and live it o er 
 and o er, as it sweeter grows with memory s ripening 
 touch. Some moments there are, that send ther glad 
 ripple down through life s stream to the verge of the 
 grave, and truly blest is one who can smile upon and kiss 
 these memory waves, and draw from thence a bUss that 
 never fails. But thou knowest full well my heart, and I 
 need not tease thee with its outpourings. 
 
 "There is yet another matter of which I wish to write 
 in very earnestness. Sir Edwin spoke to me thereof, and 
 what he said hath given me serious thought. I th/mk him 
 for his words, of which he will tell thee in full if thou but 
 importune him thereto. It is this : the Dauphin, Francis 
 d Angouleme, hath fallen desperately fond of me > and is 
 quite as importunate, and almost as foolish as the elder 
 lover. This people, in this strange land of France, have, 
 in sooth, some curious notions. For an example thereto : 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 283 
 
 no one thinks to find anything unseeming in the dauphin s 
 conduct, by reason of his having already a wife, and more, 
 that wife the Princess Claude, daughter to the king. I 
 laugh at him and let him say what he will, for in truth I 
 am powerless to prevent it. Words can not scar even a 
 rose leaf, and will not harm me. Then, by his help and 
 example I am justified in the eyes of the court in that I so 
 treat the king, which otherwise it were impossible for me 
 to do and live here. So, however much I may loathe 
 them, yet am I driven to tolerate his words, which I turn 
 off with a laugh, making sure, thou mayest know, that it 
 come to nothing more than words. And thus it is, how 
 ever much I wish it not, that I do use him to help 
 me treat the king as I like, and do then use the poor old 
 king as my buckler against this duke s too great familiar 
 ity. But my friend, when the king comes to die then will I 
 have my fears of this young Francis d Angouleme. He is 
 desperate for me, and I know not to what length he might 
 go. The king can not live long, as the thread of his life 
 is like rotten flax, and when he dies thou must come with 
 out delay, since I w r ill be in deadly peril. I have a mes 
 senger waiting at all hours ready to send to thee upon a 
 moment s notice, and when he comes waste not a precious 
 instant ; it may mean all to thee and me. I could write on 
 and on forever, but it would be only to tell thee o er and 
 o er that my heart is full of thee to overflowing. I thank 
 thee that thou hast never doubted me, and will see that 
 thou hast hereafter only good cause for better faith. 
 
 "MARY, Regina." 
 
 "Regina!" That was a 1 !. Only a queen! Surely no 
 one could charge Brandon with possessing too modest 
 tastes. 
 
284 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 It was, I think, during- the second week in December 
 that I gave this letter to Brandon, and about a fortnight 
 later there came to him a messenger from Paris, bringing 
 another from Mary, as follows : 
 
 " Master Charles Brandon: 
 
 "Sir and Dear Friend, Greeting I have but time 
 to write that the king is so ill he can not but die ere morn 
 ing. Thou knowest that which I last wrote to thee, and 
 in addition thereto I would say that although I have, as 
 thou likewise knowest, my brother s permission to marry 
 whom I wish, yet as I have his one consent it is safer that 
 we act upon that rather than be so scrupulous as to ask for 
 another. So it were better that thou take me to wife upon 
 the old one, rather than risk the necessity of having to do 
 it without any. I say no more, but come with all the speed 
 thou knowest. MARY." 
 
 It is needless to say that Brandon started in haste for 
 Paris. He left court for the ostensible purpose of paying 
 me a visit and came to Ipswich, whence ~we sailed. 
 
 The French king was dead before Mary s message 
 reached London, and when we arrived at Paris, Francis I 
 reigned on the throne of his father-in-law. I had guessed 
 only too accurately. As soon as the restraint of the old 
 king s presence, light as it had been, was removed, the 
 young king opened his attack upon Mary in dreadful earn 
 est. He begged and pleaded and swore his love, which 
 was surely manifest enough, and within three days after 
 the old king s death offered to divorce Claude and make 
 Mary his queen. When she refused this flattering offer 
 his surprise was genuine. 
 
 "Do you know what you refuse ?" he asked in a temper. 
 "I offer to make you my wife queen of fifteen millions 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 285 
 
 of the greatest subjects on earth and are you such a fool 
 as to refuse a gift like that, and a man like me for a 
 husband ?" 
 
 "That I am, your majesty, and with a good grace. I 
 am Queen of France without your help, and care not so 
 much as one penny for the honor. It is greater to be a 
 princess of England. As for this love you avow, I would 
 make so bold as to suggest that you have a good, true wife 
 to whom you would do well to give it all. To me it is 
 nothing, even were you a thousand times the king you are. 
 My heart is another s, and I have my brother s permission 
 to marry him." 
 
 "Another s ? God s soul ! Tell me who this fellow is 
 that I may spit him on my sword." 
 
 "No ! no ! you would not ; even were you as valiant 
 and grand as you think yourself, you would be but a child 
 in his hands." 
 
 Francis was furious, and had Mary s apartments 
 guarded to prevent her escape, swearing he would have 
 his way. 
 
 As soon as Brandon arrived in Paris we took private 
 lodgings, and well it was that we did. I at once went out 
 to reconnoiter, and found the widowed queen a prisoner in 
 the old palace des Tournelles. With the help of Queen 
 Claude I secretly obtained an interview, and learned the 
 true state of aft airs. 
 
 Had Brandon been recognized and his mission known in 
 Paris, he would certainly have been assassinated by order 
 of Francis. 
 
 When I saw the whole situation, with Mary nothing less 
 than a prisoner in the palace, I was ready to give up with 
 out a struggle, but not so Mary. Her brain was worth 
 having, so fertile \vas it in expedients, and while I was 
 
286 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 ready to despair, she was only getting herself in good 
 fighting order. 
 
 After Mary s refusal of Francis, and after he had 
 learned that the sacrifice of Claude would not help him, he 
 grew desperate, and determined to keep the English girl 
 in his court at any price and by any means. So he hit 
 upon the scheme of marrying her to his weak-minded 
 cousin, the Count of Savoy. To that end he sent a hurried 
 embassy to Henry VIII, offering, in case of the Savoy 
 marriage, to pay back Mary s dower of four hundred 
 thousand crowns. He offered to help Henry in the matter 
 of the imperial crown in case of Maximilian s death a 
 help much greater than any King Louis could have given. 
 He also offered to confirm Henry in all his French posses 
 sions, and to relinquish all claims of his own thereto all 
 as the price of one eighteen-year-old girl. Do you won 
 der she had an exalted estimate of her own value ? 
 
 As to Henry, it, of course, need not be said, that half 
 the price offered would have bought him to break an 
 oath made upon the true cross itself. T^ he promise he had 
 made to Mary, broken in intent before it was given, stood 
 not for one instant in the way of the French king s wishes ; 
 and Henry, with a promptitude begotten of greed, was as 
 hasty in sending an embassy to accept the offer as Francis 
 had been to make it. It mattered not to him what new 
 torture he put upon his sister; the price, I believe, was 
 sufficient to have induced him to cut off her head with his 
 own hands. 
 
 If Francis and Henry were quick in their movements, 
 
 Mary was quicker. Her plan was made in the twinkling 
 
 of an eye. Immediately upon seeing me at the palace she 
 
 j sent for Queen Claude, with whom she had become fast 
 
 friends, and told her all she knew. She did not know. 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 287 
 
 of the scheme for the Savoy marriage, though Queen 
 Claude did, and fully explained it to Mary. Naturally 
 enough, Claude would be glad to get Mary as far away 
 from France and her husband as possible, and was only too 
 willing to lend a helping hand to our purpose, or Mary s, 
 rather, for she was the leader. 
 
 We quickly agreed among ourselves that Mary and 
 Queen Claude should within an hour go out in Claude s 
 new coach for the ostensible purpose of hearing mass. 
 Brandon and I were to go to the same little chapel in 
 which Jane and I had been married, where Mary said the 
 little priest could administer the sacrament of marriage 
 and perform the ceremony as well as if he were thrice as 
 large. 
 
 I hurriedly found Brandon and repaired to the little 
 chapel where we waited for a very long time, we thought. 
 At last the two queens entered as if to make their devo 
 tions. As soon as Brandon and Mary, caught sight of 
 each other, Queen Claude and I began to examine the 
 shrines and decipher the Latin inscriptions. If these two 
 had not married soon they would have been the death of 
 me. I was compelled at length to remind them that time 
 was very precious just at that juncture, whereupon Mary, 
 who was half laughing, half crying, lifted her hands to her 
 hair and let it fall in all its lustrous w r ealth dow r n over her, 
 shoulders. When Brandon saw this, he fell upon his knee 
 and kissed the hem of her gown, and she, stooping over 
 him, raised him to his feet and placed her hand in his. 
 
 Thus Alary was married to the man to save whose life 
 she had four months before married the French king. 
 
 She and Queen Claude had forgotten nothing, and all 
 arrangements were completed for the flight. A messen 
 ger had been dispatched two hours before with an order 
 
288 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 from Queen Claude that a ship should be waiting at 
 Dieppe, ready to sail immediately upon our arrival. 
 f^ After the ceremony Claude quickly bound up Mary s 
 hair, and the queens departed from the chapel in their 
 "" coach. We soon followed, meeting them again at St. 
 Denis gate, where we found the best of horses and four 
 sturdy men awaiting us. The messenger to Dieppe who 
 had preceded us would arrange for relays, and as Mary, 
 according to her wont when she had another to rely upon, 
 had taken the opportunity to become thoroughly fright 
 ened, no time was lost. We made these forty leagues in 
 less than twenty-four hours from the time of starting; 
 having paused only for a short rest at a little town near 
 Rouen, which city we carefully passed around. 
 
 We had little fear of being overtaken at the rate we were 
 riding, but Mary said she supposed the wind would die 
 down for a month immediately upon our arrival at Dieppe. 
 Fortunately no one pursued us, thanks to Queen Claude, 
 who had spread the report that Mary was ill, and for 
 tunately, also, much to Mary s surprise and delight, when 
 we arrived at Dieppe, as fair a wind as a sailor s heart 
 could wish was blowing right up the channel. It was a 
 part of the system of relays horses, ship, and wind. 
 
 "When the very w r ind blow r s for our especial use, we 
 may surely dismiss fear," said Mary, laughing and clap 
 ping her hands, but nearly ready for tears, notwithstand 
 ing. 
 
 The ship was a fine new one, well fitted to breast any 
 sea, and learning this, we at once agreed that upon land 
 ing in England, Mary and I should go to London and win 
 over the king if possible. We felt some confidence in 
 being able to do this, as we counted upon Wolsey s help, 
 but in case of failure we still had our plans. Brandon 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 289 
 
 was to take the ship to a certain island off the Suffolk 
 coast and there await us the period of a year if need be, as 
 Mary might, in case of Henry s obstinacy, be detained; 
 then re-victual and re-man the ship and out through the 
 North Sea for their former haven, New Spain. 
 
 In case of Henry s consent, how they were to live in a 
 style fit for a princess, Brandon did not know, unless 
 Henry should open his heart and provide for them a 
 doubtful contingency upon which they did not base much 
 hope. At a pinch, they might go down into Suffolk and 
 live next to Jane and me on Brandon s estates. To this 
 Mary readily agreed, and said it was what she wanted 
 above all else. 
 
 There was one thing now in favor of the king s acquies 
 cence : during the last three months Brandon had become 
 very necessary to his amusement, and amusement was his 
 greatest need and aim in life. 
 
 Man- and I went down to London to see the king, hav 
 ing landed at Southampton for the purpose of throwing 
 off the scent any one who might seek the ship. The king 
 was delighted to see his sister, and kissed her over and 
 over again. 
 
 C*l 
 
 Mary had as hard a game to play as ever fell to the lot 
 of woman, but she was equal to the emergency if any 
 woman ever was. She did not give Henry the slightest 
 hint that she knew anything of the Count of Savoy epi 
 sode, but calmly assumed that of course her brother had 
 meant literally what he said when he made the promise 
 as to the second marriage. 
 
 The king soon asked : "But what are you doing here? 
 They have hardly buried Louis as yet, have they?" 
 
 "I am sure I do not know," answered Mary, "and I 
 
 certainly care less. I married him only during his life, 
 is 
 
290 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 and not for one moment afterwards, so I came away and 
 left them to bury him or keep him, as they choose ; I care 
 not which." 
 
 "But " began Henry, when Mary interrupted him, 
 saying : "I will tell you " 
 
 I had taken good care that Wolsey should be present at 
 this interview ; so we four, the king, Wolsey, Mary and 
 myself, quietly stepped into a little alcove away from the 
 others, and prepared to listen to Mary s tale, which was 
 told with all her dramatic eloquence and feminine persua 
 siveness. She told of the ignoble insults of Francis, of 
 his vile proposals insisted upon, almost to the point of 
 force carefully concealing, however, the offer to divorce 
 Claude and make her queen, which proposition might have 
 had its attractions for Henry. She told of her imprison 
 ment in the palace des Tournelles, and of her deadly peril 
 and many indignities, and the tale lost nothing in the tell 
 ing. Then she finished by throwing her arms around 
 Henry s neck in a passionate flood of tears and begging 
 him to protect her to save her ! save her ! save her ! his 
 little sister. 
 
 It was all such perfect acting that for the time I forgot 
 it was acting, and a great lump swelled up in my throat. 
 It was, however, only for the instant, and when Mary, 
 whose face was hidden from all the others, on Henry s 
 breast, smiled slyly at me from the midst of her tears and 
 sobs, I burst into a laugh that was like to have spoiled 
 everything. Henry turned quickly upon me, and I tried to 
 cover it by pretending that I was sobbing. Wolsey helped 
 me out by putting a corner of his gown to his eyes, when 
 Henry, seeing us all so affected, began to catch the fever 
 and swell with indignation. He put Mary away from him, 
 and striding up and down the room exclaimed, in a voice 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 291 
 
 that all could hear, The dog ! the dog ! to treat my sister 
 so. My sister! My father s daughter! My sister! The 
 first princess of England and queen of France for his mis 
 tress ! By every god that ever breathed, I ll chastise this 
 scurvy cur until he howls again. I swear it by my crown, 
 if it cost me my kingdom," and so on until words failed 
 him. But see how he kept his oath, and see how he and 
 Francis hobnobbed not long afterward at the Field of the 
 Cloth of Gold. 
 
 Henry came back to Mary and began to question her, 
 when she repeated the story for him. Then it was she told 
 of my timely arrival, and how, in order to escape and pro 
 tect herself from Francis, she had been compelled to marry 
 Brandon and flee with us. 
 
 She said : "I so wanted to come home to England and 
 be married where my dear brother could give me away, 
 but I was in such mortal dread of Francis, and there was 
 no other means of escape, so " 
 
 "God s death ! If I had but one other sister like you, I 
 swear before heaven I d have myself hanged. Married 
 to Brandon ? Fool ! idiot ! what do you mean ? Married 
 to Brandon ! Jesu ! You ll drive me mad ! Just one 
 other like you in England, and the whole damned king 
 dom might sink ; I d have none of it. Married to Bran 
 don without my consent !" 
 
 "No! no! brother," answered Mary softly, leaning 
 affectionately against his bulky form; "do you suppose 
 I would do that? Now don t be unkind to me when I 
 have been away from you so long! You gave your con 
 sent four months ago. Do you not remember? You 
 know I would never have done it otherwise." 
 
 "Yes, I know ! You would not do anything you did 
 not want ; and it seems equally certain that in the end you 
 
WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 always manage to do everything you do want. Hell and 
 furies!" 
 
 "Why! brother, I will leave it to my Lord Bishop of 
 York if you did not promise me that day, in this very 
 room, and almost on this very spot, that if I would 
 marry Louis of France I might marry whomsoever I 
 wished when he should die. Of course you knew, after 
 what I had said, whom I should choose, so I went to a 
 little church in company with Queen Claude, and took my 
 hair down and married him, and I am his wife, and no 
 power on earth can make it otherwise," and she looked up 
 into his face with a defiant little pout, as much as to say, 
 "Now, what are you going to do about it ?" 
 
 Henry looked at her in surprise and then burst out 
 laughing. "Married to Brandon with your hair down?" 
 And he roared again, holding his sides. Well, you do beat 
 the devil; there s no denying that. Poor old Louis! 
 That was a good joke on him. I ll stake my crown he 
 was glad to die! You kept it warm enough for him, I 
 make no doubt." 
 
 "Well," said Mary, with a little shrug of her shoulders, 
 he would marry me." 
 
 "Yes, and now poor Brandon doesn t know the trouble 
 ahead of him, either. He has my pity, by Jove !" 
 
 "Oh, that is different," returned Mary, and her eyes 
 burned softly, and her whole person fairly radiated, so ex 
 pressive was she of the fact that "it was different." 
 
 Different? Yes, as light from darkness; as love from 
 loathing; as heaven from the other place; as Brandon 
 from Louis ; and that tells it all. 
 
 Henry turned to Wolsey : "Have you ever heard any 
 thing equal to it, my Lord Bishop?" 
 
LETTERS FROM A QUEEN 293 
 
 My Lord Bishop, of course, never had ; nothing that 
 even approached it. 
 
 "What are we to do about it?" continued Henry, still 
 addressing Wolsey. 
 
 The bishop assumed a thoughtful expression, as if to 
 appear deliberate in so great a matter, and said: "I see 
 but one thing that can be done," and then he threw in a 
 few soft, oily words upon the troubled waters that made 
 Mary wish she had never called him "thou butcher s cur," 
 and Henry, after a pause, asked: "Where is Brandon? 
 He is a good fellow, after all, and what we can t help we 
 must endure. He ll find punishment enough in you. Tell 
 him to come h6ThlP z: I*~strppose you have "hifn"El3"around 
 some place and we ll try to do something for him." 
 
 "What will you do for him, brother?" said Mary, not 
 wanting- to give the king s friendly impulse time to 
 weaken. 
 
 "Oh ! don t bother about that now," but she held him 
 fast by the hand and would not let go. 
 
 "Well, what do you want? Out with it. I suppose I 
 might as well give it up easily, you will have it sooner or 
 later. Out with it and be done." 
 
 "Could you make him Duke of Suffolk?" 
 
 "Eh? I suppose so. What say you, my Lord of York?" 
 
 York was willing thought it would be just the thing. 
 
 "So be it then," said Henry. "Now I am going out 
 to hunt and will not listen to another word. You will 
 coax me out of my kingdom for that fellow yet." He 
 was about to leave the room when he turned to Mary, 
 saying : "By the way, sister, can you have Brandon here 
 by Sunday next? I am to have a joust." 
 
 Mary thought she could, .... and the great event was 
 accomplished. 
 
294 WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER 
 
 One false word, one false syllable, one false tone would 
 have spoiled it all, had not Mary but I fear you are 
 weary with hearing so much of Mary. 
 
 So after all, Mary, though a queen, came portionless to 
 Brandon. He got the title, but never received the estates 
 of Suffolk; all he received with her was the money I 
 carried to him from France. Nevertheless, Brandon 
 thought himself the richest man in all the earth, and 
 surely he was one of the happiest. Such a woman as 
 Mary is dangerous, except in a state of complete subjec 
 tionbut she was bound hand and foot in the silken 
 meshes of her own weaving, and her power for bliss-mak 
 ing was almost infinite. 
 
 And now it was, as all who read may know, that this 
 fair, sweet, willful Mary dropped out of history; a sure 
 token that her heart was her husband s throne; her soul 
 his empire; her every wish his subject, and her will, so 
 masterful with others, the meek and lowly servant of her 
 strong but gentle lord and master, Charles Brandon, Duke 
 of Suffolk. 
 
NOTK BY THE EDITOR 
 
 SIR EDWIN CASKODEN S history differs in some minor details 
 from other authorities of the time. Hall s chronicle says Sir 
 William Brandon, father of Charles, had the honor of being 
 killed by the hand of Richard III himself, at Bosworth Field, 
 and the points wherein his account of Charles Brandon s life 
 differs from that of Sir Edwin may be gathered from the index 
 to the 1548 edition of that work, which is as follows: 
 
 CHARLES BRANDON, ESQUIRE, 
 
 Is made knight, 
 
 Created Vicount Lysle, 
 
 Made duke of Suffolke, 
 
 Goeth to Paris to the lustes, 
 
 Doeth valiantly there, 
 
 Returneth into England, 
 
 He is sent into Fraunce to fetch home the French quene 
 into England, 
 
 He maryeth her, 
 and so on until 
 
 "He dyeth and is buryed at Wyndesore." 
 
 No mention is made in any of the chronicles of the office of 
 Master of Dance. In all other essential respects Sir Edwin is 
 corroborated by his contemporaries. 
 
 (295) 
 
THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 
 
THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK, 
 
 By MAURICE THOMPSON. 
 
 When a man does something by which the world is 
 attracted, we immediately feel a curiosity to know all 
 about him personally. Mr. Charles Major, of Shelby- 
 ville, Indiana, wrote the wonderfully popular histor 
 ical romance, When Knighthood was in Flower, which 
 was published a little more than a year ago and has 
 already sold over two hundred thousand copies. 
 
 It is not mere luck that makes a piece of fiction 
 acceptable to the public. The old saying, "Where 
 there is so much smoke there must be fire," 
 holds good in the case of smoke about a novel. 
 When a book moves many people of varying tem 
 peraments and in all circles of intelligence there is 
 power in it. Behind such a book we have the right to 
 imagine an author endowed with admirable gifts of 
 
2 THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 
 
 imagination. The ancient saying, "The cup is glad 
 of the wine it holds/ was but another way of express 
 ing the rule which judges a tree by its fruit and a 
 man by his works; for out of character comes style, 
 and out of a man s nature is his taste distilled. Every 
 soul, like the cup, is glad of what it holds. 
 
 Mr. Major himself has said, in his straightforward 
 way, "It is what a man does that counts." By this 
 rule of measurement Mr. Major has a liberal girth. 
 The writing of When Knighthood was in Flower was 
 a deed of no ordinary dimensions, especially when we 
 take into account the fact that the writer had not been 
 trained to authorship or to the literary artist s craft; 
 but was a country lawyer, with an office to sweep 
 every morning, and a few clients with whom to worry 
 over dilatory cases and doubtful fees. 
 
 
 
 The law, as a profession, is said to be a jealous 
 mistress, ever ready and maliciously anxious to drop 
 a good-sized stumbling block in the path of her de 
 votee whenever he appears to be straying in the 
 direction of another love. Indeed, many are the 
 young men who, on turning from Blackstone and Kent 
 in a comfortable law office to Scott and Byron, have 
 lost a lawyer s living, only to grasp the empty air of 
 failure in the fascinating garret of the scribbler. But 
 "nothing succeeds like success," and genius has a way 
 of changing rules and forcing the gates of fortune. 
 And when we see the proof that a fresh genius has 
 once more wrought the miracle of reversing all the 
 
CHARLES MAJOR- 
 
THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 3 
 
 fine logic of facts, so as to wring success and fame 
 out of the very circumstances and conditions which 
 are said to render the feat impossible, we all wish to 
 know how he did it. 
 
 Balzac, when he felt the inspiration of a new novel 
 in his brain, retired to an obscure room, and there, 
 with a pot of villainous black coffee at his elbow, 
 wrote night and day, almost without food and sleep, 
 until the book was finished. General Lew Wallace 
 put Ben Hur on paper in the open air of a beech 
 grove, with a bit of yellowish canvas stretched above 
 him to soften the light. Some authors use only the 
 morning hours for their literary work; others prefer 
 the silence of night. A few cannot write save when 
 surrounded by books, pictures and luxurious furni 
 ture, while some must have a bare room with nothing 
 in it to distract attention. Mr. Charles Major wrote 
 When Knighthood was in Flower on Sunday after 
 noons, the only time he had free from the exactions 
 of the law. He was full of his subject, however, and 
 doubtless his clients paid the charges in the way of 
 losses through demurrers neglected and motions and 
 exceptions not properly presented! 
 
 One thing about Mr. Major s work deserves special 1 
 mention; it shows conscientious mastery of details, a 
 sure evidence of patient study. What it may lack 
 as literature is compensated for in lawful coin of 
 human interest and in general truthfulness to the facts 
 and the atmosphere of the life he depicts. \VhenJ 
 asked how he arrived at his accurate knowledge of 
 old London London in the time of Henry VIII. 
 
4 THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 
 
 he fetched an old book, Stow s Survey of London, 
 from his library and said: 
 
 "You remember in my novel that Mary goes one 
 night from Bridewell Castle to Billingsgate Ward 
 through strange streets and alleys. Well, that journey 
 I made with Mary, aided by Stow s Survey, with 
 his map of old London before me." 
 
 It is no contradiction of terms to speak of fiction 
 as authentic. Mere vraisemblance is all very well 
 in works of pure imagination; but a historical romance 
 does not satisfy the reader s sense of justice unless 
 its setting and background and atmosphere are true 
 to time, place and historical facts. Mr. Major felt 
 -the demand of his undertaking and respected it. 
 ;He collected old books treating of English life and 
 manners in the reign of Henry VIII., preferring to 
 saturate his mind with what writers nearest the time 
 had to say, rather than depend upon recent historians. 
 Jn this he chose well, for the romancer s art, different 
 from the historian s, needs the literary shades and 
 colors of the period it would portray. 
 
 Another clever choice on the part of our author 
 
 was to put the telling of the story in the mouth of 
 
 his heroine s contemporary. This, of course, had 
 
 often been done by romancers before Mr. Major; 
 
 but he chose well, nevertheless. Fine literary finish 
 
 was not to be expected of a Master of the Dance early 
 
 in the sixteenth century; so that Sir Edwin Caskoden, 
 
 i and not Mr. Major, is accepted by the reader as re- 
 
 ! sponsible for the book s narrative, descriptive and 
 
 dramatic style. This ruse, so to call it, serves a 
 
THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 5 
 
 double purpose; it hangs the glamour of distance 
 over the pages, and it puts the reader in direct com 
 munication, as it were, with the characters in the book. 
 The narrator is garrulous, careless in the construc 
 tion of sentences, and often far from artistic with his 
 scenes and incidents; but it is Caskoden doing all 
 this, not Mr. Charles Major, and we never think of 
 bringing him to task! Undoubtedly it is good art 
 to do just what Mr. Major has done that is, it is 
 good art to present a picture of life in the terms of 
 the period in which it flourished. It might have been 
 better art to clothe the story in the highest terms of 
 literature; but that would have required a Shakes 
 peare. 
 
 The greatest beauty of Mr. Major s story as a 
 piece of craftsmanship is its frank show of self-knowl 
 edge on the author s part. He knew his equipment, 
 and he did not attempt to go beyond what it enabled 
 him to do and do well. 
 
 His romance will not go down the ages as a com 
 panion of Scott s, Thackeray s, Hugo s and Dumas ; 
 but read at any time by any fresh-minded person, it 
 will afford that shock of pleasure which always comes 
 of a good story enthusiastically told, and of a pretty 
 love-drama frankly and joyously presented. Mr. 
 Major has the true dramatic vision and notable clev 
 erness in the art of making effective conversation. 
 
 The little Indiana town in which Mr. Major lives 
 and practises the law is about twenty miles from 
 Indianapolis, and hitherto has been best known as 
 the former residence of Thomas A. Hendricks, late 
 
6 THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 
 
 Vice-President of the United States. Already the 
 tide of kodak artists and autograph hunters has found 
 our popular author out, and his clients are being 
 pushed aside by vigorous interviewers and reporters 
 in search of something about the next book. But 
 the author of When Knighthood was in Flower is an 
 extremely difficult person to handle. It is told of 
 him that he offers a very emphatic objection to hav 
 ing his home life and private affairs flaunted before 
 the public under liberal headlines and with "copious 
 illustrations." 
 
 Mr. Major is forty-three and happily married; 
 well-built and dark; looking younger than his years, 
 genial, quiet and domestic to a degree; he lives what 
 would seem to be an ideal life in a charming home, 
 across the threshold of which the curiosity of the 
 public need not try to pass. As might be taken for 
 granted, Mr. Major has been all his life a loving 
 student of history. 
 
 IF 
 
 i Perhaps to the fact that he has never studied ro- 
 I mance as it is in art is largely due his singular power 
 over the materials and atmosphere of history. At 
 all events, there is something remarkable in his vivid 
 pictures not in the least traceable to literary form nor 
 dependent upon a brilliant command of diction. 
 i The characters in his book are warm, vascular, pas 
 sionate human beings, and the air they breathe is 
 real air. The critic may wince and make faces over 
 frequent and glaring lapses from taste, and protest 
 
JULIA MARLOWE 
 Who will play the heroine in "When Knighthood was in Flower 
 
THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 7 
 
 against a literary style which cannot be defended from 
 any point of view; yet there is Mary in flesh and 
 blood, and there is Caskoden, a veritable prig of a 
 good fellow there, indeed, are all the dramatis per 
 sons, not merely true to life, but living beings. 
 
 And speaking of dramatis person*, of course When 
 Knighthood was in Flower is to be, or by this time 
 has been, dramatized. It could not be the great 
 popular success it is and hope to escape. Mr. Major 
 tells how, soon after his book was published, his 
 morning mail brought him an interesting letter from 
 a prominent New York manager, pointing out the 
 dramatic possibilities of When Knighthood was in 
 Flower and asking for the right to produce. While 
 this letter was still under consideration, a telegram 
 was received at the Shelby ville office which read: "I 
 want the dramatic rights to When Knighthood was 
 in Flower." It w r as signed "Julia Marlowe." Mr. 
 Major felt that this was enough for one morning, so 
 he escaped to Indianapolis; and, after a talk with his 
 publishers, left for St. Louis and answered Miss 
 Marlowe s telegram in person. At the first inter 
 view she was enthusiastic and he was indifferent. 
 She gave him a box for the next night s performance, 
 which Miss Marlowe arranged should be "As You 
 Like It." After the play the author was enthusi 
 astic and the actress confident, 
 
 At Cincinnati, the following week, the contract was 
 signed and the search for the dramatist w r as begun. 
 That thestory wouldlend itselfhappily to stage produc 
 tion must have occured,even to the thoughtless reader. 
 
8 THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 
 
 But it is one thing to see the scenes of a play fairly 
 sticking out, as the saying is, from the pages of a 
 book, and quite another to gather together and make 
 of them a dramatic entity. Mr. Charles Frohman, 
 who guides Miss Marlowe in her stellar orbit, was 
 determined that the book should be given to a play 
 wright whose dramatic experience and artistic sense 
 could be relied on to lead him out of the rough places, 
 up to the high plane of convincing and finished work 
 manship. Mr. Henry Guy Carleton was the gentle 
 man Mr. Frohman had in mind, and after some per 
 suasion Mr. Carleton undertook the work. The 
 result is said to be wholly satisfactory to author, ac 
 tress and manager a remarkable achievement indeed! 
 New York City is to see Miss Marlowe as Mary 
 Tudor early in the fall of 1 900, and, in the language 
 of the advance agent, "this beautiful play is to be 
 given a gorgeous production." 
 
 Mr. Major s biography shows a fine, strong Amer 
 ican life. H e was born in I ndianapolis, July 25,1856. 
 Thirteen years later he went with his father s family 
 to Shelbyville, where he was graduated from the 
 public school in 1872, and in 1875 ne concluded his 
 course in the University of Michigan. Later he read 
 law with his father, ariel in 1877 was admitted to the 
 bar. Eight years later. ,he stood for the Legislature 
 and was elecved bn the Democratic ticket. H e served 
 with credit one term, and has since declined all polit 
 ical honors, although his ability and personal popu 
 larity make him just the man for success at the polls. 
 
THE AUTHOR AND THE BOOK. 9 
 
 The title, When Knighthood was in Flower, was 
 not chosen by Mr. Major, whose historical taste was 
 satisfied with Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk. 
 And who knows but that the author s title would 
 have proved just the weight to sink a fine book into 
 obscurity? Mr. John J. Curtis, of the Bowen-Mer- 
 rill Company, suggested When Knighthood was in 
 Flower, a phrase taken from Leigh Hunt s poem, 
 the Gentle Armour. 
 
 "There lived a knight, when knighthood was in flower, 
 Who charmed alike the tilt-yard and the bower." 
 
 MAURICE THOMPSON, in The Saturday Evening Post. 
 
"A NOVEL THAT S WORTH WHILE" 
 
 The RED EM PT I ON 
 of DAVID CORSON 
 
 By CHARLES FREDERIC Goss 
 
 A Mid-century American Novel 
 of Intense Power and Interest 
 
 "THE INTERIOR" says: 
 
 "This is a book that is worth while. Though it tells of weakness and wickedness, 
 of love and license, of revenge and remorse in an intensely interesting way, yet it is 
 above all else a clean and pure story. It is safe to say no one can read it and honestly 
 ask what s the use. " 
 
 NEWTON D WIGHT HILLIS, Pastor of Plymouth Church, 
 
 Brooklyn, says: 
 " The Redemption of David Corson strikes a strong, healthy buoyant note." 
 
 Dr. JOHN H. BARROWS, President Oherlin College, says: 
 
 "There are descriptive passages in it as exquisite and as delightful as I have read for 
 years. There are novel scenes and situations worthy of the great masters of 
 
 romance. 
 
 Dr. F. W. GUNSAULUS, President Armour Institute, says: 
 
 "Mr. Goss writes with the truthfulness of light. He has told a story in which the 
 fact of sin is illuminated with the utmost truthfulness and the fact of redemption is 
 portrayed with extraordinary power. There are lines of greatness in the book which 
 I shall never forget." 
 
 President M. W. STRTKER, Hamilton College, says: 
 
 "It is a victory in writing for one whose head seems at last to have matched his 
 big human heart. There is ten times as much of reality in it as there is in David 
 Harum, which does not value lightly that admirable charcoal sketch." 
 
 Price, $1.50 Published by 
 
 The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis 
 
NEWEST BOOKS 
 
 Published by The Bowen-Merrill Company 
 
 He&emptton Of Datttt CotSOU. CHARLES FREDERICK Goss. 
 A novel notable for its strength and vivid imagery; containing an 
 unusual study of the secret springs of life. The author s wide read 
 ing, illumined by actual personal experiences, and his rare powers 
 of description, have produced a singularly interesting and elevating 
 story. I2mo, $1.50. 
 
 tottl) H>tff!)0 ROBERT J. BURDETTE. A book of Eur- 
 dette pathos and humor, in rollicking rhyme. " Burdette, the 
 laughing philosopher, the prince of pathos who jingles among the 
 bells o his cap the key to every human heart." Uniform with 
 Riley Love-Lyrics, with many illustrations by Will Vavvter. 
 I2mo y $1.25* 
 
 Of t\)t H?ea CLAUDE H. WETMORE. Two young men, 
 having come into possession of hidden treasures of untold value, 
 lease an island near Chile, and there build the most powerful navy 
 that has ever sailed. War is declared on Peru, and the story is 
 launched on a career of excitement, and holds its interest strongly to 
 the end. Illustrated. I2mo, $1.50. 
 
 Of J)amlet. The first volume of an entirely new edi 
 tion of Shakespeare. Edited by EDWARD DOWDEN. Printed in Eng 
 land by Methuen & Co., and published in America exclusively by 
 The Bowen-Merrill Co. An introduction of twenty pages is prefixed 
 to the play. In an appendix passages are printed from the Quarto of 
 1603. Demy, 8vo, fl.2. 
 
 9tniettCail jFuntrj, Toadstools and Mushrooms, Edible and Poisonous. 
 CHARLES MC!LVAINE. Describing over 800 species, 750 being edi 
 ble. Illustrated with thirty-eight page color plates, twenty-five page 
 engravings and over 300 etchings; instructions for students, how to 
 distinguish edible from poisonous, treatment in case of poisoning, 
 recipes for cooking, complete glossary and indexes. Large quarto, 
 $10.00. 
 
A LIST OF PUBLICATIONS OF 
 THE BOWEN-MERRILL CO. 
 
IMPORTANT PUBLICATIONS OF 
 THE BOWEN- MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS, U. S. A. 
 
 ANTHONY. THE LIFE AND WORK OF SUSAN B. ANTHONY. By 
 Ida Husted Harper. JV Story of the Evolution of the Status of 
 Woman. Two volumes, 8vo, with 48 full-page pictures and over 
 100 facsimile autographs of prominent people. Ornamental 
 cloth, per set, two vols ......................................... $ 6 00 
 
 Half leather, $9.00; full leather .................................. 12 00 
 
 BARR. HIGH PRESSURE STEAM BOILERS. A Practical Treatise. 
 By William M. Barr. With 203 illustrations, many of them 
 double page, and 95 tables. Crown 8vo, 456 pages, net ......... 300 
 
 THE COMBUSTION OF COAL. A Practical Treatise. By 
 William M. Barr. With 49 illustrations and 26 tables; 308 
 pages, 8vo, cloth, net ............................................ 2 50 
 
 BLACK WOLF S BREED, THE. See DICKSON, HARRIS. 
 
 BOLTON. PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE, AND OTHER POEMS. By 
 
 Sarah T. Bolton. 12mo, cloth ................................... 1 25 
 
 BROWN. SELECTIONS FROM LUCIAN. Translated by Prof. 
 Demarchus C. Brown, of Butler College. 16mo, cloth, uncut, 
 gilt top .......................................................... 1 25 
 
 BURDETTE. SMILES YOKED WITH SIGHS. Robert J. Burdette. 
 A book of Burdette pathos and humor, in rollicking rhyme. 
 With many illustrations by Will Vawter. 12mo ................ 125 
 
 CHIMES FROM A JESTER S BELLS. A volume of humorous and 
 pathetic stories and sketches. By Robert J. Burdette. Beau 
 tifully illustrated, bound in uniform style with Bill Nye s "A 
 Guest at the Ludlow." Crown 8vo, gilt top .................... 125 
 
THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 BREED S PATENT PORTFOLIO SCRAP-BOOK. A scrap- 
 book without paste. Half-American Russia, cloth sides, size 
 6x9 inches, price $300 
 
 CASKODEN. WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER. By Charles 
 Major (Edwin Caskoden). A love story of Charles Brandon 
 and Mary Tudor, sister to King Henry VIII. 12mo, cloth, 
 ornamental, illustrated 1 50 
 
 CASTLE. THE ARMY MULE. And Other Humorous War Sketches. 
 By Capt. Henry A. Castle. Illustrated by J. W. Vawter. Bound 
 uniform with Bill Nye s "A Guest at the Ludlow." Crown 8vo 1 25 
 
 CENTURY SERIES OF READINGS, RECITATIONS AND 
 DIALOGUES. Cloth bound, 12mo, containing about 250 
 pages, each 60 
 
 This series comprises the following volumes of standard 
 recitations selected from the works of the best known authors. 
 First Series For Schools and Colleges. 
 Second Series For Christmas and Other Holidays. 
 Third Series For Little Children. 
 Fourth Series For Young People. 
 Fifth Series Humorous and Comic. 
 
 CLARK. THE LEGIONARIES. By Henry Scott Clark. 1 volume, 
 
 12mo, cloth, gilt top 1 50 
 
 An historical novel dealing with the great raid made by 
 Morgan s Cavalry through Indiana and Ohio during the Civil 
 War. The story of the conflict and of the intense feeling ex 
 isting at that time in the "Border States" is most skillfully 
 told, and the author s description of the dashing ride made by 
 the great raider is dramatic in its interest. Throughout the 
 book is interwoven a pretty love story. 
 
 COTTON. YOUNG FOLKS HISTORY OF GREECE AND ROME. By 
 Elizabeth J. Cotton. A history for young people of Greece 
 and Rome, from the heroic age to the downfall of the Roman 
 
 Empire. 1 vol., 12mo, cloth, illustrated 75 
 
 YOUNG FOLKS HISTORY OF THE MIDDLE AGES. By Elizabeth 
 J. Cotton. A history of the Medieval period from the fall of 
 Rome (A. D. 476) to the discovery of America. 1 vol., 12mo, 
 cloth, illustrated 75 
 
 DEWHURST. DWELLERS IN TENTS. Rev. Frederic E. Dew- 
 hurst s new collection of sermon essays. 12mo, gilt top 1 25 
 
 DICKSON. THE BLACK WOLF S BREED. By Harris Dickson. 
 
 1 vol., 12mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated 1 50 
 
 A new story of adventure, stirringly told. Dealing with 
 France in the period of Louis XIV, it skirts historical ground 
 very closely and has ampng its principal characters some men 
 and women well known in rrench History. 
 
THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 ENGLISH, WILLIAM E. A HISTORY OF EARLY INDIANAPOLIS 
 MASONRY AND OF CENTER LODGE. By Capt. William E. 
 English. 8vo, paper, net $ 50 
 
 ENGLISH, WILLIAM H. CONQUEST OF THE NORTHWEST. Con 
 quest of the Country Northwest of the River Ohio, and Life of 
 Gen. George Rogers Clark. By William Hayden English. In 
 two large volumes. Illustrated, net 6 00 
 
 EWING. THE ART OF COOKERY. A Manual for Homes and 
 
 Schools. By Emma P. Ewing. 1 vol., 12mo, illustrated 175 
 
 A TEXT BOOK OF COOKERY. By Emma P. Ewing, author of 
 " The Art of Cookery." 134 pages, 12mo, substantially bound 
 in cloth 75 
 
 FISHBACK. RECOLLECTIONS OF LORD COLERIDGE. By 
 
 W. P. Fishback. With portrait, 12mo, uncut 125 
 
 FOULKE. THE LIFE OF OLIVER P. MORTON, THE WAR GOV 
 ERNOR OF INDIANA. By William Dudley Foulke. Two large 
 
 volumes, cloth, gilt top 6 00 
 
 This biography is a most valuable contribution to the 
 history of the country a storehouse of political information. 
 
 FULLER. ROACH & Co., PIRATES. And Other Stories. By 
 
 Hector Fuller. 12mo, gilt top, uncut 125 
 
 GOSS. THE REDEMPTION OF DAVID CORSON. By 
 Charles Frederic Goss. A novel notable for its strength and 
 vivid imagery. 12mo 1 59 
 
 HARRIS. A HISTORY OF THE TRENT AFFAIR. By 
 Thomas L. Harris. Including a review of English and Amer 
 ican relations at the beginning of the Civil War. Crown 8vo, 
 288 pages 160 
 
 HOWE. THE PURITAN REPUBLIC. By Daniel Wait Howe. Large 
 
 8vo, cloth, gilt top 3 50 
 
 In this work Judge Howe follows logically the growth of 
 the Massachusetts republic up to the foundation of the greater 
 republic by the federation of the colonies of New England. 
 
 IDEAL SERIES. SELECTED READINGS AND RECITATIONS. In 
 sixteen numbers. Edited by Prof. T. J. McAvoy. 12mo, paper, 
 each 10 
 
 This is the most popular series of ten-cent recitation books 
 made. It contains selections by such well-known writers as 
 James Whitcomb Riley, Lew Wallace, Thomas Hood, T. 
 Buchanan Read, Mark Twain, Will Carleton, Charles Dickens, 
 Eugene Field and many others. The low price makes them 
 especially popular. 
 
THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 INDIANA HISTORICAL SOCIETY PUBLICATIONS. In 2 
 volumes, 8vo, cloth, uncut, with complete index, per volume, 
 net $4 25 
 
 JOHNSTON. STUDIES; LITERARY AND SOCIAL. By 
 Richard Malcolm Johnston. New edition, 1859, two volumes 
 in one, 12mo, cloth 1 50 
 
 LAUGHLIN. JOHNNIE. A Study of Boyhood. By E.O. Laughlin. 
 
 I2mo, handsomely illustrated, cloth bound 1 25 
 
 In this volume the author has told for us the story of a 
 country boy, from his earliest school-days until he is grown to 
 manhood and leaves the farm for the great city beyond. We 
 share with him his griefs and his joys, his first love affair, and 
 the delights of the long summer vacations. It is a rare glimpse 
 into the child-world and a happy one. 
 
 LEGIONARIES, THE. See Clark, Kenry Scott. 
 
 LODGE. A BIT OF FINESSE. By Harriet Newell Lodge. 12mo, 
 
 cloth, gilt top 1 25 
 
 MAJOR. WHEN KNIGHTHOOD WAS IN FLOWER. By 
 Charles Major. A love story of Charles Brandon and 
 Mary Tudor, sister to King Henry VIII. 12mo, cloth, orna 
 mental, illustrated 1 50 
 
 The Boston Transcript says : "The consummate skill with 
 which the love story is told, the cleverness of the dialogue, the 
 rush and sweep of incident, and above all, the forcible direct 
 ness and effective simplicity of the narrative, have made When 
 Knighthood Was in Flower one of the most successful histor 
 ical romances of a decade." 
 
 MALLET, EDMOND. SIEUR DE VINCENNES, THE FOUNDER OF 
 
 INDIANA S OLDEST TOWN. 8vo, paper, net 50 
 
 McILVAIXE. AMERICAN FUNGI. By Charles Mcllvaine. 1vol., 
 
 quarto, illustrated in colors (edition limited) 10 00 
 
 By far the most complete book of American Fungi yet 
 published. Over bOO species are classified with full botanical 
 descriptions, and the book is illustrated with 32 full-page color 
 plates, and over 500 etchings and engravings. The volume 
 contains a complete glossary, valuable color charts and a record 
 of marked cases of toadstool poisoning, with their treatment; 
 also many valuable recipes for cooking the edible species of 
 fungi. 
 
 MEIGS SUNDAY-SCHOOL CLASS BOOKS AND RECORDS. 
 MEIGS TEACHERS CLASS BOOKS. No. 1 For 1-t scholars or 
 
 less, price, 6 cents each, per dozen, postpaid 60 
 
 No. 2 Large size, for 20 scholars or less, 10 cents each, per 
 dozen, postpaid 1 00 
 
THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 MEIGS SUNDAY-SCHOOL CLASS BOOKS AND RECORDS. 
 Continued. 
 
 MEIGS INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY-SCHOOL RECORDS. No.O 
 Large enough for school of 23 classes and 358 scholars, bound 
 
 in heavy paper sides and cloth back $ 60 
 
 No. 1 Same, bound in substantial cloth covers 1 00 
 
 No. 2 Large enough for 55 classes and 850 scholars, cloth 1 25 
 
 MEIGS INTERNATIONAL S. S. SUPERINTENDENT S POCKET 
 RECORD. Open end, pocket size, American Russia, flexible 
 leather, lasts one year. Price 50 
 
 MEIGS INTERNATIONAL " HOME DEPARTMENT" SUPERINTEN 
 DENT S RECORD. Capacity, 25 visitors, 16 districts, 15 to 25 
 "classes" and 375 members. No. A Bound in flexible, heavy 
 
 pasteboard covers. Price 50 
 
 No. B Same book, but bound in substantial cloth covers. 
 Price 100 
 
 MORTON. THE SOUTHERN EMPIRE and Other Papers. By 
 
 Oliver P. Morton. 1 vol., cloth, gilt top 125 
 
 NEW. A WOMAN REIGNS. By Catherine McLaen 
 
 (Mrs. Harry S. New). 16mo 125 
 
 NICHOLAS. AN IDYL OF THE WABASH; AND OTHER STORIES OF 
 
 HOOSIER LIFE. By Anna Nicholas. 12mo, 256 pages, gilt top. 1 25 
 
 " Not since Edward Eggleston gave to the world The 
 Hoosier School Master have so tender and true pictures 
 of life in the middle West been presented as these from 
 Miss Nicholas." iV. 1". Mail and Express. 
 
 NICHOLSON. SHORT FLIGHTS. By Meredith Nicholson. Con 
 tains sixty-nine poems and sonnets. 16mo, cloth 75 
 
 NYE (BILL). A GUEST AT THE LUDLOW. By Edgar Wilson Nye 
 (BillNye). A volume of humorous stories and sketches, with 
 twenty-one full-page and twelve smaller designs, the latter by 
 
 the author. Crown 8vo, cloth 1 25 
 
 Printed, bound and illustrated in a style surpassing any 
 thing heretofore issued of Mr. Nye s in book form, and contain 
 ing the famous humorist s best and most finished work. 
 Twenty-eight stories and numerous illustrations, including the 
 author s introduction in facsimile. 
 
 OGAN. "AN* NEVER BROUGHT TO MIND." Poems by 
 
 Mena Kemp Ogan. 16rno, gilt top 125 
 
 REED. TEMPLE TALKS. By Rev. Myron W. Reed. 12mo, gilt 
 
 top, with portrait 1 25 
 
 REYNOLDS-KRAG. MARTHA-JANE. A book of nursery rhymes. 
 By Martha Ann Krag and Florence Krag Reynolds. Illustrated 
 by Virginia Hynson Keep. The leaves or plates, a dozen in 
 number, are heavy and black, representing slates. On them the 
 text and illustrations are done in white. Square 4to (in a box).. 200 
 
THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 RILEY. THE WORKS OF JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. 
 NEGHBORLY POEMS. Thirty-six poems in Hoosier dialect, 
 including "The Old Swimmin Hole and Leven More Poems, 
 by Benjamin F. Johnson, of Boone," with eight half-tone 
 illustrations. 12rao $ 1 25 
 
 SKETCHES IN PROSE. Originally published as " The Boss Girl 
 and Other Stories." Twelve graphic stories, each prefaced by 
 a poem. 12mo 1 25 
 
 AFTERWHILES. Sixty-two poems and sonnets, serious, 
 pathetic, humorous and dialect, with frontispiece. 12mo 125 
 
 PIPES o PAN. Five sketches and fifty poems. The sketches 
 are separated by four books of twelve poems each, with frontis 
 piece. 12mo 1 25 
 
 RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD. One hundred and two dialect and 
 serious poems. Not for children only, but of childhood days, 
 with frontispiece. 12mo 1 25 
 
 THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT. A weird and grotesque 
 drama in verse. Fantastic, quaint and ingenious. 12mo 125 
 
 GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS. One hundred and t\vo 
 poems and sonnets, dialect humorous and serious. 12mo 1 25 
 
 ARMAZINDY. Contains some of Mr. Riley s latest and best 
 dialect and serious work, including "Armazindy" and the 
 famous Poe poem. 12mo, uniform with his other books 125 
 
 A CHILD-WORLD. A continuous narrative (in dialect and 
 serious verse) of child-life and old-home tales, in which young 
 
 and old participate in the story-telling. 12mo 125 
 
 Above 9 vols., uniform binding, 12mo, gilt top, cloth bound, per 
 
 set, $11.25 ; half calf 22 50 
 
 OLD-FASHIONED ROSES. Sixty-one selected poems and sonnets, 
 published in England. Printed on hand-made paper, with 
 untrimmed edges, gilt top, and bound in blue and white cloth, 
 16mo 1 75 
 
 THE GOLDEN YEAR. Selections for the Year Round, from the 
 verse and prose of James Whitcomb Riley. Published in Lon 
 don. Uniform with " Old-Fashioned Roses." 16mo, blue and 
 white cloth, gilt top 1 75 
 
 RILEY CHILD-RHYMES WITH HOOSIER PICTURES. A collection 
 of the favorites of Mr. Riley s delightful Child-Rhymes, 
 illustrated with numerous pictures from studies in Hoosier- 
 dom by Will Yawter. 12mo 1 25 
 
 RILEY LOVE-LYRICS. With illustrations by W. B. Dyer. 
 12mo,cloth 125 
 
THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY 
 
 RUDDY. BOOK LOVER S VERSE. Edited by Howard S. Ruddy. 
 
 12mo, cloth, gilt top $ 1 25 
 
 In this volume Mr. Ruddy has gathered the delightful verse 
 that the bookmen of all ages have written about their beloved 
 books. Printed upon a fine deckle paper and daintily bound in 
 green and gold, the whole makes a volume that will delight 
 every book lover. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET. The first vol 
 ume of an entirely new edition of Shakespeare. Edited by 
 Edward Dowden. In an appendix passages are printed from 
 the Quarto of 1603. Demy, 8vo 125 
 
 STANTON. COMES ONE WITH A SONG. A volume of poems by 
 
 Frank L. Stanton. 12mo, gilt top 125 
 
 " Old loves come back and are sweet again; little children 
 laugh in the sunlight; the rose blooms above the cabin door, 
 and all the year is May when he touches his lyre. In this vol 
 ume, which only a poet could have thought of naming Comes 
 One with a Song, is a collection of verses all instinct with 
 sweetness and melody." New Orleans Picayune. 
 
 SWEETSER. ONE WAY ROUND THE WORLD. A volume of 
 
 travel. By Delight Sweetser. 12mo, illustrated, gilt top 1 25 
 
 We do not hesitate to say Miss Sweetser has written one of 
 the best small books of travel that has made its appearance. 
 In chapter after chapter she tell us either of something new 
 and commendable, or else about something which, though we 
 may perhaps have read of it before, we certainly were not told 
 of it in such a cheerfully fresh and charming way. 
 
 THOMPSON. PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF SIXTEEN PRESI 
 DENTS, from Washington to Lincoln. By Colonel Richard W. 
 Thompson, Ex-Secretary of the Navy. In two volumes, cloth, 
 with eighteen full page portraits, net 6 00 
 
 VAWTER. OF SUCH is THE KINGDOM. By Clara Vawter. 12mo, 
 
 illustrated 125 
 
 A book of stories and rhymes for children. With illustra 
 tions from designs by Will Vawter. 
 
 VOORHEES. FORTY YEARS OF ORATORY. By Daniel W. 
 
 Voorhees. Two large volumes, cloth, net 000 
 
 WETMORE. SWEEPERS OF THE SEA. Claude H. Wetmore. In 
 this rattling naval story two young men lease an island near 
 Chile and there build the most powerful navy that has ever 
 sailed. War is declared on Peru, and the story is launched on 
 a career of excitement and holds its interest strongly to the 
 end. Illustrated, 12mo 1 50 
 
Toadstools 
 
 Mushrooms 
 
 AMERICAN FUNGI 
 
 The Only Complete Book on 
 the Subject. 
 
 By 
 
 CHARLES McILVAINE 
 L 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Illustrations and Text 
 
 38 fail-page color plates. 
 
 25 fall-page engravings. 
 
 200 etchings from pen and ink 
 
 drawings. 
 Charts and diagrams showing 
 
 parts of fungi which aid in 
 
 tracing species to their genera 
 
 and names. 
 Full botanical description of over 
 
 800 species. 
 
 How to distinguish the edible 
 from the poisonous. 
 
 Directions for cooking. 
 
 Treatment in cases of " toad 
 stool" poisoning. 
 
 Complete botanical glossary. 
 
 Indexes referring to genera, spe 
 cies, orders, subdivisions, fam 
 ilies, tribes and all genera! 
 matter. 
 
 Edition Limited to 750 Copies. Price, $12.00 each 
 
 The Bowen- Merrill Company, Publishers 
 Indianapolis, U. S. A. 
 
ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL 
 HISTORICAL NOVEL 
 
 [From The New York Titnes, Feb. 17, 1900] 
 
 Apparently When Knighthood was in Flower is not 
 the only literary prize that has recently been captured 
 by the Bowen-Merrill Company. Harris Dickson s 
 new historical romance, published by this house only 
 a few weeks ago, is now selling in its twelfth thou 
 sand. This is a fascinating tale of Old and Nw 
 France, and the scene is laid in the reign of Louis 
 XIV. The story is well written in an autobiograph 
 ical style in good imitation of the age in which the 
 events recounted are supposed to have taken place. 
 The illustrations, which are historically correct the 
 \vork of C. M. Relyea have been conceived with 
 much force and vigor. Mr. Dickson is a young 
 Vicksburg lawyer, and The Black Wolf s Breed is 
 his first sustained flight in fiction. The strange con 
 trast of scenes the Court of France, the Indian en 
 campments in the wilds of Louisiana offer the au 
 thor abundant opportunity to employ a picturesque, 
 vivid pen. It is the same with the characters, who 
 appear, and disappear, and reappear again courtiers, 
 adventurers, knights and ladies, Indian braves and 
 squaws. It is a broad canvas, but the proportions of 
 the foreground and the perspective are carefully and 
 artistically handled. In these days, when real life 
 seems so full of romance, people are strangely drawn 
 toward these books of romance, history, and adven 
 ture. Evidently The Black Wolfs Breed has started 
 upon a long and successful career. 
 
 Price, $1.50. Published by 
 
 The Bowen-Merrill Company, IndianapolL 
 
LOAN PERIOD 
 HOME USE 
 
 4 
 
 DEPARTMENT 
 
 Mom Libran 
 
 All BOOKS MAY BE RECALIED AFTER 7 DAYS 
 
 *-*Sy "f_ CHAR GES MAY BE MADE 4 DAYS PRIOR TO DUE DATE. 
 
 ^ 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 MAR 12 199) 
 
 
 
 *WFE62ll91 
 
"*-****