Volume II Part 44 (1/2)

The prisoner, with an angry scowl, in which both grief and astonishment were mingled, silently obeyed the mandate; and displayed, underneath these coa.r.s.e habiliments, a complete suit of female apparel--the very clothes worn by Katherine Grimes at the time of her disappearance.

”A well-contrived disguise, sir, truly. I wot you can suddenly change your gender at a pinch,” said the clerk, chuckling at his own impertinence. But the prisoner, no longer dumb, as aforetime at the farm, answered, in a voice that awed even this presuming minion, with all the attributes of both law and power at his grasp.

”Why call you me sir, Sir Knave? I own no nicknames, and I answer to none. My t.i.tle is Derwent.w.a.ter.”

”The t.i.tular earl, truly; but now Charles Ratcliffe, since your brother was”----

”Hanged, thou wouldst say,” said the unfortunate and attainted peer, interrupting him; ”it was his lot, as I pray thine may be, when the king shall have his own again. Silence!” continued he, in a commanding tone, as one accustomed to be obeyed. ”I own it was my purpose to escape; but there is treachery in the camp--treachery in our own bosom--treachery”--here he cast a keen glance at the stranger--”ay, where our best feelings were cherished. I have leaned on a spear, and it hath pierced me! deeper than I thought--in this hard and seared heart.”

A strong and painful emotion came over his dark features; he clenched his hands; but the stranger betrayed no symptoms of compunction.

”Now, sir, I am ready,” said the earl; ”make my fetters tight; or perhaps I may be spared that indignity.”

But the proud Earl of Derwent.w.a.ter would not stoop to propitiate.

”Nay, bind them, and I will be prouder of their insignia than of all the honours, all the trappings, that George Guelph can bestow.”

”We have orders merely for your safe keeping in the jail,” said the clerk; ”to which the proper officers will see you conveyed.”

He was accordingly removed to the town jail, then situated to the west of Friargate. This building had been formerly a Franciscan convent of Grey Friars, or Friars Minor, built by Edmund, Earl of Lancaster, son of Henry III., in 1221, to which Robert de Holland, who impeached Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, for high treason, contributed largely, and was buried there. In its original state it was a small collegiate building, with a chapel attached to its quadrangular cloisters. By the mutations of time, it became the residence of the Breares of Hammerton, in Bowland; next a house of correction, until the prison at the bottom of Church Street was erected in 1790.

The clerk, being more particular in his inquiries than his wors.h.i.+p, addressed the stranger as follows when their mission was ended:--

”Thou hast given good evidence of this plot, and too full of circ.u.mstance and confirmation to be disbelieved. The name is Oswald thou sayest, and one of the party who have plotted for his rescue?”

”I have told thee of this before,” replied the stranger, sullenly.

”What should prompt thee to betray him?”

”The same that prompts thee to minister to the hangman's trade--gold!”

”Humph!” replied the other drily, wiping his spectacles; ”and what will satisfy your craving?”

”Why, thinkest thou that I deserve not a reward for my loyalty and readiness to reveal this plot? I will to London with the prisoner; the king will not fail to grant me great largess for what this proud lack-land calls my treachery.”

”Why an it be a noose mayhap: for my part,” continued the greedy and disappointed man of law, ”I have touched never a doit of the bounty, though I have got many a sound rating, and am harder worked than a galley-slave, without even so much as a 'thank ye' for my pains. The mayor himself, who dreams he shall be knighted, may whistle a duet with 'my lady' as he calls her, as long as a county precept, or ere his t.i.tle be forthcoming, though it be only a puff of empty breath.

There's no luck in being loyal; neither honour nor honesty thrive therein. But 'tis the spoke that's uppermost; and so are we.”

”Thinkest thou that I may get no share of the reward for his apprehension?” inquired the avaricious betrayer.

”Yes; Judas's reward, maybe, who sold his Master,” said the indomitable clerk, much diverted by his own talents for tormenting.

”Hold--I bethink me thou mayest claim the earl's linsey-woolsey gown and petticoats.”

A loud laugh proclaimed that he had fully appreciated his own wit; though the stranger made no comments thereon.

”To-night, thou sayest, a boat will be in readiness, one hour before midnight and by the mayor's orders?”

”Yes; arrangements will be made, and soon after daylight we shall have our prisoner safe aboard the king's cruiser,” replied the stranger, ”for I know her bearing to a league.”

”Thou wilt with us then?”