"Good lack! not I. If thou art so troubled thereanent, thou wert best ask my father. Maybe he wist not. I cannot say."

"It must have been sore disheartenment," said Norman, pityingly, "to win nearly away, and then be brought back."

"Ay, marry; and then was she had up to London afore the King's Grace, and had into straiter prison than aforetime. Ere that matter was she treated rather as guest of the King and Queen, though in good sooth she was prisoner; but after was she left no doubt touching that question.

Some thought she might have been released eight years agone, when the convention was with the Lady Joan of Brittany, which after her lord was killed at Auray, gave up all, receiving the county of Penthievre, the city of Limoges, and a great sum of money; and so far as England reckoned, so she might, and maybe would, had it been to my Lord Duke's convenience. But he had found her aforetime very troublesome to him.

Why, when he was but a youth, he fell o' love with some fair damsel of his mother's following, and should have wedded her, had not my Lady d.u.c.h.ess, so soon as ever she knew it, packed her off to a nunnery."

"Wherefore?"

"That wis I not, without it were that she was not for him."

[Unsuitable.]

"Was the tale true, think you?"

"That wis I not likewise. Man said so much--behold all I know. Any way, she harried him, and he loved it not, and here she is. That's enough for me."

"Poor lady!"

"Poor? what for poor? She has all she can want. She is fed and clad as well as ever she was--better, I dare guess, than when she was besieged in Hennebon. If she would have broidery silks, or flowers, or any sort of women's toys, she hath but to say, and my Lady my mother shall ride to Derby for them. The King gave order she should be well used, and well used she is. He desireth not that she be punished, but only kept sure."

"I would guess that mere keeping in durance, with nought more to vex her, were sorest suffering to one of her fashioning."

"But what more can she lack? Beside, she is only a woman."

"Women mostly live in and for their children, and your story sounds as though hers cared little enough for her."

"Well! they know she is well treated; why should they harry them over her? They be young, and would lead a jolly life, not to be tied for ever to her ap.r.o.n-string."

"I would not use my mother thus."

"What wouldst? Lead her horse with thy bonnet doffed, and make a leg afore her whenever she spake unto thee?"

"If it made her happy so to do, I would. Meseemeth I should be as well employed in leading her horse as another, and could show my chivalry as well towards mine old mother as any other lady. I were somewhat more beholden to her of the twain, and G.o.d bade me not honour any other, but He did her."

"_Ha, chetife_! 'Tis easier work honouring a fair damsel, with golden hair and rose-leaf cheek, than a toothless old harridan that is for ever plaguing thee."

"Belike the Lord knew that, and writ therefore His fifth command."

G.o.dfrey did not answer, for his attention was diverted. Two well-laden mules stood at the gate, and two men were coming up to the Manor House, carrying a large pack--a somewhat exciting vision to country people in the Middle Ages. There were then no such things as village shops, and only in the largest and most important towns was any great stock kept by tradesmen. The chief trading in country places was done by these itinerant pedlars, whose visits were therefore a source of great interest to the family, and especially to the ladies. They served frequently as messengers and carriers in a small way, and were particularly valuable between the four seasons, when alone anything worth notice could be expected in the shops--Easter, Whitsuntide, All Saints, and Christmas. There were also the spring and autumn fairs, but these were small matters except in the great towns. As it was now the beginning of September, G.o.dfrey knew that a travelling pedlar would be a most acceptable visitor to his mother and wife.

The porter, instructed by his young master, let in the pedlars.

"What have ye?" demanded G.o.dfrey.

"I have mercery, sweet Sir, and he hath jewelling," answered the taller of the pedlars, a middle-aged man with a bronzed face, which told of much outdoor exposure.

"Why, well said! Come ye both into hall, and when ye have eaten and drunk, then shall ye open your packs."

G.o.dfrey led the pedlars into the hall, and shouted for the sewer, whom he bade to set a table, and serve the wearied men with food.

An hour later, Amphillis, who was sewing in her mistress's chamber, rose at the entrance of Lady Foljambe.

"Here, Dame, be pedlars bearing mercery and jewelling," said she.

"Would your Grace anything that I can pick forth to your content?"

"Ay, I lack a few matters, Avena," said the Countess, in her usual bitter-sweet style. "A two-three yards of freedom, an' it like thee; and a boxful of air, so he have it fresh; and if thou see a silver chain of daughter's duty, or a bit of son's love set in gold, I could serve me of those if I had them. They'll not come over sea, methinketh."

"Would it like your Grace," asked Lady Foljambe, rather stiffly, "to speak in plain language, and say what you would have?"

"'Plain language!'" repeated the Countess. "In very deed, but I reckoned I had given thee some of that afore now! I would have my liberty, Avena Foljambe; and I would have my rights; and I would have of mine own childre such honour as 'longeth to a mother by reason and G.o.d's law. Is that plain enough? or wouldst have it rougher hewn?"

"Dame, your Grace wist well that such matter as this cometh not of pedlars' packs."

"Ay!" said the Countess, with a long, weary sigh. "I do, so! Nor out of men's hearts, belike. Well, Avena, to come down to such petty matter as I count I shall be suffered to have, prithee, bring me some violet silk of this shade for broidery, and another yard or twain of red samitelle for the backing. It were not in thy writ of matters allowable, I reckon, that the pedlars should come up and open their packs in my sight?"

Lady Foljambe looked scandalised.

"Dear heart! Dame, what means your Grace?"

"I know," said the Countess. "They have eyes, no less than I; and they shall see an old woman in white doole, and fall to marvelling, and maybe talking, wherefore their Lord King Edward keepeth her mewed up with bars across her cas.e.m.e.nt. His Grace's honour must be respected, trow. Be it done. 'Tis only one penny the more to the account that the Lord of the helpless shall demand of him one day. I trust he hath in his coffers wherewith to pay that debt. Verily, there shall be some strange meetings in that further world. I marvel something what manner of tale mine old friend De Mauny carried thither this last January, when he went on the long journey that hath no return. Howbeit, seeing he wedded his master's cousin, maybe it were not to his conveniency to remind the Lord of the old woman behind the bars at Hazelwood. It should scantly redound to his lord's credit. And at times it seemeth me that the Lord lacketh reminding, for He appears to have forgot me."

"I cannot listen, Dame, to such speech of my Sovereign."

"Do thy duty, Avena. After all, thy Sovereign's not bad man, as men go.

Marvellous ill they go, some of them! He hath held his sceptre well even betwixt justice and mercy on the whole, saving in two matters, whereof this old woman is one, and old women be of small account with most men. He should have fared well had he wist his own mind a bit better--but that's in the blood. Old King Harry, his father's grandfather, I have heard say, was a weary set-out for that. Go thy ways, Avena, and stand not staring at me. I'm neither a lovesome young damsel nor a hobgoblin, that thou shouldst set eyes on me thus. Three ells of red samitelle, and two ounces of violet silk this hue--and a bit of gold twist shall harm no man. Amphillis, my maid, thou art not glued to the chamber floor like thy mistress; go thou and take thy pleasure to see the pedlars' packs. Thou hast not much here, poor child!"

Amphillis thankfully accepted her mistress's considerate permission, and ran down to the hall. She found the mercer's pack open, and the rich stuffs hung all about on the forms, which had been pulled forward for that purpose. The jeweller meanwhile sat in a corner, resting until he was wanted. Time was not of much value in the Middle Ages.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

ALNERS AND SAMITELLE.

"And there's many a deed I could wish undone, though the law might not be broke; And there's many a word, now I come to think, that I wish I had not spoke."

The mercer's stock, spread out upon the benches of the hall, was a sight at once gay and magnificent. Cloth of gold, diaper, baldekin, velvet, tissue, samite, satin, tartaryn, samitelle, sarcenet, taffata, sindon, cendall, say--all of them varieties of silken stuffs--ribbons of silk, satin, velvet, silver, and gold, were heaped together in brilliant and bewildering confusion of beautiful colours. Lady Foljambe, Mrs Margaret, Marabel, and Agatha, were all looking on.

"What price is that by the yard?" inquired Lady Foljambe, touching a piece of superb Cyprus baldekin, striped white, and crimson. Baldekin was an exceedingly rich silk, originally made at Constantinople: it was now manufactured in England also, but the "oversea" article was the more valuable, the baldekin of Cyprus holding first rank. Baldachino is derived from this word.

"Dame," answered the mercer, "that is a Cyprus baldekin; it is eight pound the piece of three ells."

Lady Foljambe resigned the costly beauty with a sigh.

"And this?" she asked, indicating a piece of soft blue.

"That is an oversea cloth, Dame, yet not princ.i.p.al [of first-cla.s.s quality]--it is priced five pound the piece."