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 THE 
 
 WAPwD OF THE CROWN.
 
 T H E 
 
 WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 A HISTORICAL NOVEL, 
 
 BV THK ALTHOF OF 
 
 SEYMOtR OF Stl'LEY, ' ^* TEE POPE A^D THE ACTOR/ 
 " THE EORESTER's DAUGRTER." 
 
 IN THREE V O L U IVI E S. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 LONDON: 
 
 T. C. NEWBY, 72, MORTIMER St., CAVENDISH Sq. 
 1845.
 
 
 
 15773-^ 
 
 K / 
 
 THE 
 
 WARD OF THE CROAYN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Though no Thucvdides has recorded the 
 
 horrors attendant on the long civil wars, 
 between the houses of York and Lancaster, 
 which ravaged England during the fifteenth 
 century, the numerous battles, and the vast 
 numbers of the slain, are sufficient evidence 
 of the ruin and affliction of the land and 
 its inhabitants. A hundred thousand men 
 are supposed to have fallen in pitched bat- 
 ^^iles, but no calculation has been made of 
 ^ those who, when their ripe com was trodden 
 down, or their bams plundered by the needy 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 soldiers — who, when their homes were burnt 
 and their kindred slaughtered, perished for 
 want and sorrow by the way side ; no ac- 
 count has been taken of the widows and 
 orphans, who, famished and broken hearted, 
 sunk unheeded, into an untimely grave — of 
 the aged, whose length of years was shortened 
 by deprivation — of the sick, who perished 
 for want of needful care. 
 
 Yet so terrible were the vicissitudes of 
 these times, that no class of society was 
 exempt from such trials. 
 
 The afflictions of Margaret of Anjou, and 
 her husband, King Henry the Sixth, with 
 those of many of their noble adherents and 
 enemies, have been recorded in history, and 
 made the theme of immortal verse. But the 
 trials of many an unknown wife and mother, 
 were not less poignant than those of the 
 Queen, and scenes often occurred in private 
 life that were not surpassed, in solemn inte- 
 rest, by the tragic destinies of lorldly men, 
 though, like the rain-drops of the tempest 
 upon the torrent, they fell unmarked amidst 
 that raging strife, and left no trace behind.
 
 THE WABD OF THE CROWN. 3 
 
 Another evil of these and all other lawless 
 times, was the unbridled liberty of indi- 
 vidual passion. Private hatred, Revenge, 
 and cupidity had scarcely need of the mask 
 of party zeal, to perpetrate with impunity 
 their worst enormities and evil natures in 
 these evil days, unrestrained by earthly 
 authority, and fearless of aught beside, found 
 ample opportunity to glut their worst pro- 
 pensities. 
 
 If a well directed arrow could win by the 
 untimely death of the rich man, a premature 
 inheritance for his impatient heir, no one 
 brought the archer to justice ; and if brother 
 drew his sword on brother, and the father 
 drove his first-born with curses from his roof, 
 they were common things, which provoked 
 neither wonder nor observation. 
 
 Yet the true old English character was 
 too fraught, by nature, with generosity and 
 sterling honesty, not to produce many bright 
 examples of the noblest virtues, even amidst 
 times thus wild and corrupt, and religion 
 and the sweet spirit of love were still at 
 B 3
 
 4 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 woman's side, sustaining her to bind up the 
 wounded, and to pour balm into the bleeding 
 heart. In spite of the doctrines of Wickliff, 
 faith in the established religion of the land, 
 was then strong in the hearts of the most 
 suffering part of the population, and when, 
 during a temporary cessation of hostilities, 
 or the distance of the contending armies, 
 the public roads could be trodden with 
 safety, bands of poor pilgrims were continu- 
 ally to be seen, resorting to some favourite 
 shrine, to offer up their prayers to the 
 Throne of Mercy, for the safety of those most 
 dear to them, and the restoration of peace 
 to their harassed country. 
 
 In those counties far removed from the 
 metropolis and the influence of its fashions 
 and its vices, this was peculiarly the case^ 
 and in the wild districts of Northumberland 
 and Durham, a kind of savage loyalty and 
 honor, peculiar to their ^rlike inhabitants, 
 who were exposed to the miseries of border 
 strife, at all times stood greatly in the place 
 of law.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 5 
 
 Margaret of Anjou had, with her son, 
 there sought refuge and aid, in the most 
 desperate crisis of the royal fortunes ; mul- 
 titudes of young men and old, had left their 
 homes during the wars, to take up arms in 
 defence of the House of Lancaster, and 
 when on the fifteenth of May, 1463, more 
 than two thousand men fell at the unfor- 
 tunate battle of Hexham, between Lord 
 Montague and King Henry the Sixth, the 
 voice of lamentation was to be heard from 
 mountain and from plain, through all that 
 desolate country. 
 
 Scarcely a family, however poor, but had 
 some beloved one to mourn ; and though the 
 necessities of existence compelled the be- 
 reaved father, and the heart stricken widow 
 to toil, tears watered the soil, as the spade 
 and the harrow obliterated the traces of 
 blood. 
 
 Two days later, the news of the fatal 
 battle and the report of the approach of 
 the Conqueror's army had spread universal 
 consternation through the old town of
 
 6 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 Newcastle upon Tyne. The walls "^ere 
 manned day and night, by the freemen, of 
 this independent town and county, whilst 
 a small party of Lancastrian soldiers in the 
 old square Castle, built by Robert, the son of 
 William the Conqueror, on the banks of the 
 river, lost no time in collecting such a store 
 of provisions, as might enable them, in case 
 of necessity, to stand a protracted siege. 
 
 On the morning of the 18th of May, the 
 rain was falling steadily and fast, from the 
 dense, low clouds, and the water poured in 
 torrents, over the projecting eaves of the 
 wooden houses, and down the narrow streets 
 that covered the steep banks of the broad 
 river Tyne. A more than usual bustle and 
 activity pervaded the town ; numbers of the 
 peasantry from the upper country had there 
 sought refuge, and many of the wounded 
 soldiers from Hexham had been brought thi- 
 ther for aid. 
 
 The inhabitants of Newcastle, already im- 
 poverished by exactions, by the interruption 
 of commerce and the ravages of war, rarely
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN, 7 
 
 opened their houses to these miserable vi- 
 sitants ; hundreds sought shelter in the 
 churches St. Nicholas, St. John, and St. 
 Anne, whilst the doors of the different mo- 
 nasteries and convents were absolutely be- 
 sieged by supplicants. Yet, in the midst of 
 all this misery and confusion, a band of Pil- 
 grims who had arrived the preceding night 
 from a distant part of the county of Durham, 
 after hearing mass in the church of St. Ni- 
 cholas, hastened to recommence their pious 
 journey. 
 
 The Holy Well, whither their steps were 
 directed, is still to be seen on the picturesque 
 banks of a narrow valley, not two miles dis- 
 tant from Newcastle ; and so numerous were 
 the devotees who annually resorted thither, 
 that the principal street of the town through 
 which they passed towards the North, obtained 
 the name it still bears, of Pilgrim-street. 
 
 The party in question consisted of about 
 twenty stout, healthy peasants, male and 
 female, who would have been much better 
 employed in tilling the desolated land. The
 
 b THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 journey had been imposed as a penancef by 
 their priests, on most of the party, but it 
 had been so often performed in the course of 
 their lives, that habit made it rather a plea- 
 sure, than a pain. The women, inured to all 
 weathers, in that uncertain climate, pro- 
 ceeded gaily along, with bare feet, amidst 
 the mud ; their woollen garments gathered 
 up nearly to the knee, and the rain dripping 
 from the coarse kerchiefs tied over their 
 heads, whilst the men, with staff in hand, 
 coarse brown frocks and large slouched hats, 
 adorned with the scallop shell, led on the 
 way with many a light word and merry jest, 
 that seemed neither accordant with the 
 misery that surrounded them, nor with the 
 sacred object of their journey. 
 
 But there was one poor creature, who, ac- 
 companied by a monk, followed, with tottering 
 steps, in the rear of this rustic party, and 
 evidently borne down by sorrow, and spent 
 with fatigue, seemed unconscious of their 
 untimely mirth. She was a young, fair 
 woman, who had probably scarcely reached
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWiT. 9 
 
 her twentieth year, yet she bore an infant in 
 her arms, and the bloom of youth, had van- 
 ished from her cheeks. Her fine, thin clothing, 
 was of the quality and fashion of that worn 
 by the highest class, and though her dress 
 was in many parts torn, and saturated with 
 mud and wet, the movements of her emaci- 
 ated figure were full of grace and delicacy. 
 
 It was in vain that the monk who accom- 
 panied her, offered repeatedly to carry her 
 babe — she only shook her head, and imprinted 
 a kiss on its brow. 
 
 The rain dripped from the tresses of her 
 long, dark hair, which, escaped from her 
 hood, fell dishevelled over her face and 
 shoulders ; but she knew it not, and was 
 wholly employed, in endeavouring to defend 
 her sleeping infant from the pelting of the 
 storm, by drawing, ever and anon, the relics 
 of a tattered silken scarf, over his blooming 
 face. Tears were in her large, blue eyes, 
 yet she smiled as she gazed on the peaceful 
 cherub, and then pressed him nearer to her 
 heart ; and that heart had great need of such 
 B 5
 
 10 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 comfort, for she had lost all save that child^ 
 upon earth. And the consciousness, that 
 her helpless infant, had no longer a father 
 to protect it, in that wilderness of calamity, 
 had alone given her strength to wander so 
 far from the battle field of Hexham, which 
 had proved the grave of her happiness. 
 
 Her delicate frame had long been unequal 
 to the trials and troubles of the war, and 
 her last overwhelming calamity, had not only 
 completed the ruin of her shattered consti- 
 tution, but greatly disordered the intellect 
 of a creature nourished, till her eighteenth 
 year, in the lap of prosperity and love. She 
 forgot all, save one, whom she had lost, yet 
 they were many ; and she had no wish, no 
 hope upon earth, save to claim for her child, 
 ere she died, the protection of her dead hus- 
 band's relatives. 
 
 The good priest who accompanied her, 
 once the confessor of her father's family, ap- 
 proving of her design, though he doubted her 
 power to accomplish it, had forsaken all 
 other duties, to assist the feeble lady in this
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 11 
 
 last office of maternal love, and as the road 
 to the dwelling of the great man to whose 
 protection she was anxious to confide her 
 child, lay through the pilgrims' gate, she 
 had insisted that morning on following in 
 the rear of the devotees, as the surest mode 
 of escaping from the town, where every ave- 
 nue was secured with bolts, and bars, and 
 armed men. 
 
 But she was not destined to accomplish 
 this, her last desire. Though the purpose 
 of the heart was strong, the body was weak, 
 wasted to the very brink of the grave ; and 
 even as the dark portals were opened for the 
 egress of the pilgrims, and a hundred steps 
 would have carried her beyond the walls, her 
 strength utterly forsook her, and she was 
 obliged to pass her arm around the base of 
 a stone cross, before an ancient portal, to 
 prevent her falling with her infant to the 
 ground. All things danced and swam in 
 confusion before her eyes, yet she heard the 
 heavy clang of the closing gates, and a faint 
 cry like the wail of the hunted deer burst from
 
 12 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 her lips at the sound. It was the last effort 
 of exhausted nature, and in another moment 
 she lay insensible on the cold, wet steps of 
 the cross. 
 
 When she again unclosed her eyes, she 
 was reposing on a clean pallet, in the hospi- 
 tal of the Convent, before the door of which 
 she had fallen. Her first movement was to 
 stretch forth her hand to feel if her child 
 were near, and a smile parted her pale lips, 
 when she found it sleeping on the edge of 
 her bed, and took its rosy hand in her long, 
 thin fingers. Two nuns, and the friendly 
 priest, by whose care she had been brought 
 into the convent, were watching near her, 
 but she took no heed of them, till called 
 upon to participate in the last sad offices of 
 religion, which her evident danger rendered 
 it impossible to defer. Her voice was scarcely 
 audible, as she responded to the questions 
 of the confessor, but when all was over, she 
 seemed to feel that her trials on earth were 
 done, and a heavenly peace replaced the 
 former anxious expression of her thin, pale
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 13 
 
 features. She paid no attention to aught 
 that passed around her, but like a creature 
 in a dream, she repeated, at intervals, the 
 name of Reginald, between many endearing 
 epithets, and caressed her child, as she smiled 
 on him with inefiable love. 
 
 This lasted till the evening, and then, 
 after long watching her sleeping infant with 
 an earnest gaze, that seemed to strive to 
 pierce the mysteries of time, and to read his 
 future destiny, she heaved a deep sigh, and 
 faintly murmuring " Reginald, I come," closed 
 her eyes as if to slumber. But her sleep was 
 the sleep of death, and when the nuns at 
 length withdrew the child from her encir- 
 cling arms, her hands were cold and clammy. 
 
 " By the mercy of of heaven, her soul, re- 
 leased from this sad world of trial, has gone 
 to rejoin the blest," said the monk as he 
 gazed on the corpse, with mingled love and 
 sorrow. " When I watched her like a fair 
 flower, bud and bloom, I little thought it 
 would be my sad task to lay her so soon in 
 the grave. Wash and lay the body in its
 
 14 THE. WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 coffin, my sisters, with tenderness and pious 
 love, as jou would that a gentle hand should 
 perform the same sad offices for you. Mean- 
 while, give me the child, and I will wait in 
 the outer ward, to learn if you find any 
 papers among the lady's garments." 
 
 So saying the kind hearted confessor took 
 the infant in his arms, and having laid it 
 on a bed in the outer chamber, sat down to 
 watch its slumbers. Many sad remembrances 
 of the past, and anxious thoughts for the 
 future, forced themselves on his mind, during 
 the time he thus awaited the reappearance of 
 the nuns, and more than once he brushed the 
 tears from his eyes^ when like a dream of 
 other days, the poor dead wanderer arose 
 before him, in all the joyous beauty of her 
 childhood, and the happiness of a father's 
 home. Then came the overwhelming con- 
 sciousness that all were alike dust, the 
 parents and their child, and that child's 
 gallant husband, who had perished with his 
 father-in-law on the field of Hexham. 
 
 The entrance of sister Bridget, first
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 15 
 
 disturbed his meditations. She bore a small 
 packet of papers, tied with a silken cord, 
 and a cross, set with large brilliants, which, 
 suspended bj a fine cord, she had found 
 resting on the heart of the unfortunate 
 lady. 
 
 " Here is likewise her wedding ring," she 
 said, delivering it to the monk. " You will 
 see the initials of herself and her husband, 
 engraved in the inside, with the date of her 
 marriage ; only a year and a half ago, poor 
 thing ! and by the coronet at the back of 
 the cross, she was probably of a noble 
 family. But I warrant you know all her 
 history, though you have told us nothing." 
 
 " It was her wish to conceal her name 
 and family," was the confessor's reply, " but 
 you augur rightly as to her rank, sister Brid- 
 get. These are indeed times to teach us 
 that human destiny is in the hands of the 
 Lord, when we see the proudest nobles, one 
 day at the head of an army, and the next, 
 upon a scaffold, or serving barefooted for 
 their bread, whilst their wives and children
 
 16 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 are left, like this poor lady and her babe, to 
 perish of want and misery/' 
 
 The cries of the child at this moment pre- 
 vented the nun making any reply, nor, 
 althought her curiosity was powerfully 
 awakened, could she obtain any further in- 
 formation from the priest. She knew not 
 even whither he went, when after having 
 witnessed the funeral of the lady, he took 
 the child in his arms, and left the convent.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJJf. 17 
 
 CHAPTER. 11. 
 
 The coast of Northumberland, extending 
 northward from the banks of the river Tyne 
 to Scotland, forms in many parts, a wild and 
 magnificent barrier of rocks, against the en- 
 croachments of the German ocean, whose 
 furious waves, borne by the sweeping North 
 wind from the Pole, often, in times of storm, 
 cast their foam far inland, as their giant 
 arches burst against the beetling crags. 
 
 The ruined remains of many noble castles 
 and extensive monasteries, still add a pic- 
 turesque and romantic interest to the severe
 
 18 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 character of the scenery, and in the fifteenth 
 century, the strong fortresses, so often 
 necessary for the defence of the kingdom 
 from Scottish invasion, were still in complete 
 repair. They were commonly well garris- 
 soned and provisioned for a siege, and the 
 whole district was inhabited by a race of 
 warlike men, who had grown up in the 
 practice of arms, and in the wild life of 
 adventure, attendant on a half civilised state 
 of society, and the immediate neighbourhood 
 of a hostile country. Even the dwelling 
 places of the gentry were petty fortresses, 
 and constructed as places of refuge for their 
 own cattle, and that of their poorer neigh- 
 bours, in case of an expected inroad from 
 the Scottish borders. 
 
 During the long wars of the houses of 
 York and Lancaster, the castles of Alnwick, 
 Bamborough, Dunstanborough, and many 
 others had been under the command of ex- 
 perienced generals of the respective parties, 
 as the vicissitudes of war placed them 
 alternately in the power of the Red Rose, 
 or the White.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJ!^. 19 
 
 Though the majority of the ancient 
 families of the North of England were par- 
 tisans of the family of Henry the Sixth, 
 yet the signal defeat of his army at the 
 battle of Hexham, effected a wonderful 
 change in many men's politics, and all, who 
 had till then remained neuter, declared 
 openly for the House of York. 
 
 Sir Hugh Collingwood, the head of an 
 old Northumbrian family, had, from the 
 commencement of the war, been ardently 
 devoted to that party. His father. Sir 
 Kalph, had driven his eldest son from his 
 house, because he refused to take up arms 
 against his Sovereign Lord, King Henry the 
 Sixth, and it was believed, he had since 
 perished on the battle field. The extensive 
 possessions of the family, consequently 
 descended, on the death of the elder Knight, 
 to his second son Sir Hugh. 
 
 The castellated dwelling of the family 
 was situated, only a few miles from the base 
 of the Cheviot, hills, in one of the wildest 
 and most picturesque valleys of that
 
 20 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 romantic country. Ellington Tower was 
 said to have been built soon after the Nor- 
 man conquest, by the ancestor of the family, 
 who had received the original grant of the 
 Fief from the crown. Its heavy, round 
 arches and massive walls of rude masonry, 
 confirmed the truth of the tradition. Moats 
 and battlemented walls surrounded the keep 
 and the dwelling house with its stables and 
 barns, which had been added to the stern old 
 Tower, by successive generations, in many 
 gradations of gothic architecture ; but the 
 meadows around it were bright and gay, and 
 the old ash and beech trees on the banks of 
 the rivulet that intersected them, were 
 larger and more luxuriant, than are com- 
 monly seen so near the coast of the German 
 ocean. 
 
 The inhabitants of the neighbouring vil- 
 lage of Bellinghem were almost all retainers 
 of the CoUingwoods. The parish priest was 
 their confessor, and the church the burying 
 place of the family. Of all who had 
 died at home, or abroad, during the four
 
 THE WARD OF THE CEOW:jr. 21 
 
 preceding centuries, only one gravestone was 
 wanting, and next the tomb of old Sir 
 Ralph, still remained a vacant niche for the 
 body of his eldest son — his banished heir — 
 the accursed of his father, and the sole idol 
 of his devoted mother Lady Isabel, who 
 seemed only to survive her husband, to 
 mourn over the mysterious destiny of her 
 first born. 
 
 Six children she had seen laid, in their 
 childhood and their youth, in the grave ; 
 but her noble Reginald survived, and she 
 was comforted. The hour when he was cast 
 forth from his paternal home, she for the 
 first time felt, as if the shadows of despair 
 had gathered around her ; the very air she 
 breathed seemed to dry up her aching heart ; 
 she scarcely tasted food, and for hours she 
 remained mourning in solitude over the past. 
 
 She had long taken little pleasure in 
 aught save her adored child, for her hus- 
 band, a rude sportsman and soldier, was one 
 of those cold-hearted tyrants, who despise a 
 woman's love, and her second son, Hugh, was
 
 22 -THE WARD OF THE CROWI^. 
 
 of a character little in harmony with her 
 own frank nature. Well aware that he had 
 been reserved and false from childhood, she 
 had, with a sense of a mother's duty, long 
 striven, but in vain, to regard him with affec- 
 tion, but ever and anon, some evil trait of 
 his disposition betrayed itself, which made 
 her heart revolt. Though he grew up to be 
 a handsome and gallant Knight, and his more 
 than common breeding and courtesy were 
 regarded with admiration by the gentlemen 
 of the county, she knew the secret of his 
 real character too well, to feel any pride in 
 his apparently noble qualities. And the 
 wife, who had long lived only for the child 
 she loved, was alone in the world ! Regi- 
 nald was gone — they told her Reginald was 
 dead — yet his grave was empty, and she had 
 neither the sad consolation of weeping above 
 his tomb, nor of hoping that her bones 
 should one day mingle with his. 
 
 She saw the long and stately funeral of 
 her husband pass from the Castle to the 
 church, but it cost her no tear, and when
 
 THE WARD OP THE CROW^. 23 
 
 Sir Hugh took formal possession of his fa- 
 ther's property, as the next heir, she alone re- 
 fused to acknowledge his right to do so. No 
 eloquence could persuade her that Reginald 
 was dead. Her life was only sustained by 
 the hope that he would one day return to 
 claim his lands. 
 
 She withdrew herself from the cares of Sir 
 Hugh'^ household, and retired with a single 
 sen^ant to a small dower house and farm on 
 the skirts of his domain, where, in solitude 
 and seclusion, her mind dwelt so exclusively 
 and intensely on the sole object of her love 
 and her anxiety, that external circumstances 
 lost all power to engage her attention. For 
 long hours she sat in her desolate chamber, 
 lonely and unoccupied, and when the rain 
 and the clouds were drifting darkly down 
 from the Cheviot hills, she wandered forth 
 over the desolate heaths, as if she sought to 
 cool the fever in her brain by the winds and 
 the showers of Heaven. 
 
 These were her happiest hours, for then 
 her son was ever at her side, sometimes as
 
 24 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 the young child, who, by his infant sports, 
 had beguiled the long years of her uncon- 
 genial wedlock — sometimes as the gallant 
 youth, who had confided to her his love for 
 the daughter of a noble Lancastrian Lord, 
 and his devotedness to the persecuted King. 
 And then the hour of their sad separation 
 returned with all its anguish to her mind, 
 and the mother wept almost to madness, as 
 she repeated again and again aloud to the 
 passing winds, the blessing she had at part- 
 ing pronounced above his head. 
 
 Her food was poor and sparing ; she took 
 no heed of her attire, and her wasted and 
 neglected person lost, ere long, all traces of 
 its early beauty. The country people, who 
 held all belonging to the family of Colling- 
 wood in reverence, regarded the Lady of the 
 Manor with mysterious awe ; every poor 
 man's head was uncovered, as she passed 
 with silent and melancholy dignity, through 
 the little crowd before the church door on 
 Sundays and festivals, and though her attire 
 was wild and grotesque, its eccentricity ex-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 25 
 
 excited no feeling save that of regret, in the 
 minds of these honest people. Thej had 
 once known her young, gaj, and lovely, and 
 there was not a cottage in the whole dis- 
 trict where her lost son had not been be- 
 loved and honoured as the heir of their 
 master, Sir Ralph. 
 
 Strangers called Lady Isabel mad, but her 
 poor neighbours knew her history too well, 
 to allow the truth of the epithet ; and in 
 fact, though the strong heart and powerful 
 mind of the lady had been severed from the 
 world, and concentrated on one sad subject 
 of interest, by her heavy afflictions, the ex- 
 citement of some important event would at 
 any time have sufficed to recal her acute 
 intellect to all its orl^nal activity. 
 
 An apparent amity existed between her 
 son, Sir Hugh, and herself, yet they rarely 
 met, and only when an interview was ab- 
 solutely necessary, for the transaction of 
 business. 
 
 The Lady Isabel, as co-heiress of a branch 
 of the noble family of De Yere, was possessed 
 of considerable estates in her own right, 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 THE WARD OF THE CROW27. 
 
 part of which, with her family plate, and 
 jewels of great value, were entailed upon 
 her eldest son, or his heir. These, the 
 strong hearted woman resolutely refused to 
 deliver up to Sir Hugh, until he had pro- 
 ved to her, indisputable evidence of the 
 death of her first born, and in spite of his 
 ardent desire to obtain possession of this 
 valuable property, three months elapsed after 
 his father's death, without his having been 
 able to gain any tidings of his brother Re- 
 ginald. 
 
 Every hour the devoted mother clung 
 with closer attachment to the heir-looms of 
 her family, as if their possession was, in itself, 
 an evidence of the existence of her son. Sir 
 Hugh was at all times an extravagant, and, 
 therefore, a needy man, and on his return 
 from the battle of Hexham, he was more 
 than usually in want of money, to equip a 
 troop of fifty horsemen, with which he had 
 promised to rejoin the army of Lord Mon- 
 tague, in the course of a week. 
 
 His estates were all entailed, and the
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJS". 27 
 
 want of convincing evidence of his brother's 
 death had hitherto rendered it impossible 
 for him to raise a supply on his life interest, 
 even from the Jews of York. Lady Isabel's 
 jewels were, therefore, more than ever the 
 object of his cupidity, and fearful scenes oc- 
 curred after his return from the battle field, 
 between the mother and son, with regard to 
 this ill omened treasure ; but the Lady still 
 remained firm to her original resolution. 
 
 It was a dull and gloomy morning, and 
 the air of earth seemed to press heavily on 
 the soul of man, when Sir Hugh resolved to 
 make another efibrt to win the prize he 
 covetted. In sullen and vindictive mood 
 he passed over the desolate moor, and along 
 the broken banks of the wild stream that 
 divided their properties. The sun was 
 thickly veiled by lowering clouds, and the 
 outline of the hills was lost in floating 
 mists, which in the distance hid all dis- 
 tinction between earth and sky. The wind 
 came in fitful gusts up the vaUey, rustling 
 the old elm trees above the head of the 
 c 3 •
 
 28 THE AVARD OF THE CROWIS*. 
 
 Knight, and mingling drearily its howling 
 voice as it swept over the moors, with the 
 gushing of the swollen rivulet. 
 
 Sir Hugh was in no mood to observe 
 either, yet both had their gloomy influence 
 on his mind, and disposed him, as he re- 
 flected on the pressing nature of his 
 necessities, to resort to the most desperate 
 measures for the accomplishment of his 
 wishes ; to measures, which, but for his 
 lavish expenditure, he would have disdained 
 to employ. But extravagance, though not 
 an actual crime, is too often the parent of 
 many. 
 
 In such a frame of mind, he passed the 
 threshold of his mother's dwelling, and pro- 
 ceeded unannounced to the chamber she 
 habitually occupied. 
 
 There was nothing cheering in its aspect. 
 Though the snow still covered the Northern 
 hills, no fire burnt in the chimney, no rushes 
 covered the paved floor, and the East wind 
 whistled sadly through the uncurtained and 
 rudely fashioned casements.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 29 
 
 A deal table and three high backed, 
 wooden chairs, were all the furniture it con- 
 tained, and the lady sat alone, with an il- 
 luminated M. S. missal open before her, in 
 which her darkened soul had sought words 
 of comfort, but had found them not. Her 
 stiff, tall figure, was drawn up to its full 
 height, and her clasped, cold hands rested 
 on the table like those of a stone statue 
 above an ancient tomb. 
 
 The entrance of Sir Hugh disturbed her 
 not — she formally returned his salutation, 
 and then motioned with her head for him to 
 be seated ; but she extended no hand towards 
 him, she gave him no welcome. 
 
 "My departure is fixed for to-morrow, 
 Madam," he said, when apparently uncon- 
 scious of her repulsive manner, he had quietly 
 taken the chair opposite to her, " and as no 
 man knows the fate that awaits him in war, 
 I have come to ask your blessing ere I go !" 
 
 " My blessing, say you !" she returned in 
 a deep and stern voice, " I well know you 
 set little store by that, nor do you err in
 
 30 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 despising it, for where I best loved, it hath 
 proved little better than a curse. But be 
 frank, Sir Hugh ! what else seek you 1 you 
 have somewhat of more importance in view, 
 or you had not left your morning's good 
 cheer at such an early hour I" 
 
 " Nay, my Lady mother, be just, I beg of 
 you," answered the Knight, " it grieves me 
 to the soul, to find you ever think thus 
 hardly of me." 
 
 " Justice is out of fashion, and I go with 
 the times," returned the lady with bitter 
 laugh. 
 
 " But between a mother and her son me- 
 thinks the feelings of nature," began Sir 
 Hugh. 
 
 " The feelings of nature ! bah !" she 
 cried scornfully interrupting him, " who 
 knows aught of the feelings of nature in 
 these fierce, bloody wars, when the father 
 curses his child, and the brother persecutes 
 his brother unto death, whilst the son for a 
 paltry piece of gold would not scruple to 
 pierce the heart of the mother that bore 
 him."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWII. 31 
 
 " Yet surely methinks a mother's love — " 
 he again softly began. 
 
 " Pollute not the word/' cried Lady Isabel, 
 her whole figure dilating with passion, and 
 her eyes flashing with a fire, that seemed a 
 minute before, to be for ever extinguished 
 in their dark orbs, dost thou presume to 
 talk of a mother's love 1 thou who knowest 
 no more of the soul absorbing passion, the 
 heaven given yearings of a mother'? heart, 
 than doth the earth that swallows v il her 
 children. Thou talk of love who never 
 knew the feeling ! Shame, shame. Sir Hugh ; 
 speak truth, however base ; I should respect 
 it more than such false eloquence." 
 
 " When I speak truths, you wish not to 
 hear, Madam," he returned, " you refuse 
 jour belief, when I make demands with 
 which you are not pleased to comply ; you 
 deny me justice, when I address you as a 
 dutiful son ; you accuse me of hypocrisy ; 
 what course in the name of all the saints 
 am I to pursue '?" 
 
 •' Take that which pleases you," she said
 
 32 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " only leave me in peace ; your ways are 
 not my ways, and that you know full well/' 
 
 " I know, Madam, that I tread the paths 
 of honour in the service of my king," answered 
 the knight haughtily, " whilst you in open 
 defiance of justice, deny me those rights 
 to which the law entitles me !" 
 
 " Speak in plainer language, sir," returned 
 Lady Isabel in a calm, sarcastic voice, " say 
 that I refuse to yield, to your rapacious 
 avarice, the legal inheritance of my first-born 
 son ; that I refuse to strip your brother of 
 his rights, that you, false traitor as you are, 
 may, by the help of his wealth, play with 
 success the sycophant in the usurper's court, 
 and like a blood-hound track the steps of 
 him whom you have robbed of father, home, 
 and land, even to the block ! I know you 
 sir ! I know whose subtle arts brought down 
 my husband's curse upon his head ! and I 
 doubt not that did you see him dying on the 
 battle field, although you feared to murder 
 him, you would not stretch out a finger to 
 save him from certain death. Ha, Sir Hugh,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 33 
 
 thou turnest pale, thine eyes shrink beneath 
 mine ! hast thou done this, and yet survive 
 the stings of conscience V 
 
 " Madam, forbear !" exclaimed the knight 
 absolutely staggering beneath his mother's 
 withering glances ; and his passion wrought 
 past all control, he grasped the arm of the 
 rigid figure at his side, as he continued, 
 " another word, and though I am thy son, by 
 all the Saints, my patience will have end !" 
 
 " What ! you will silence me with a dagger 
 perhaps ! Do what you will ! your deeds 
 have already stabbed my heart as deeply as 
 your steel can do." 
 
 " In the name of the Holy Mother, Madam, 
 a truce to this violence," said Sir Hugh, who, 
 though for a moment roused to fury by an 
 allusion that had awakened the remembrance 
 of most painful circumstances, speedily mas- 
 tered his anger, " you talk of a mother's feel- 
 ings, yet forget I am your son !" 
 
 " Oh, God forgive me that I have borne 
 such a son !" was Lady Isabel's sole reply. 
 
 " I have given you the most positive as- 
 c
 
 34 THE WARD OP THE CROWN. 
 
 surances of my brother's death in the battle 
 of Hexham," continued the knight without 
 noticing this exclamation, "yet you still deny 
 me my inheritance." 
 
 " When I have seen his grave, and brought 
 the precious corpse to crumble with the dust 
 of all his ancestors, then, and not till then, 
 will I believe your tale," she returned. 
 " Should it be true, I should not wonder if 
 your own spear had struck him to the heart ; 
 and at all hazards thou wert a white-hearted 
 knight to fear to give Christian burial to the 
 man who died in arms for Lancaster ; a 
 miserable coward, that durst not forsooth 
 mutter a prayer over the body of his father's 
 son, but left the poor uncovered corpse for 
 dogs to leed upon. But I believe not a word 
 of the story ; it is a clumsy fabrication, and 
 when next you seek to cheat me to your 
 purposes, frame your lie more cunningly. Sir 
 Hugh, if you expect me to be imposed upon." 
 
 " Madam, were you not my mother, I 
 should better know how to answer you," he 
 said with outward calmness, though his lips
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJf. 35 
 
 quivered with suppressed rage ; " as it is, 
 a truce to further argument. For the last 
 time, I demand, will you give me the jewels 
 which are my birthright, or must I to the 
 King, and claim the aid of his authority, to 
 compel a mother to do justice to her son ?' 
 
 " Go to your precious traitor, Edward of 
 York — go by all means ! he loves such jovial 
 company, though I do not, and tell him that 
 I scorn his power and yours. And for the 
 jewels Sir, you may add, if it please you, 
 that till my eldest born sleeps with his fa- 
 thers in Bellingham Church, no threats shall 
 wring them from me, either to purchase you 
 the mockery of honour in his upstart court, 
 or to deck his city mistresses." 
 
 " Since Lord Montague's victory, the law 
 is once more strong, Madam," answered the 
 relentless son. 
 
 " Tyranny, not law !" she returned, " but 
 do your worst ! Death I defy, and for the 
 treasure, it is hid so cunningly, that not ten 
 thousand such as you, without my consent 
 can ever discover it."
 
 36 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " Beware, Madam ! beware ! nor drive me 
 to extremities. This is the last time, by 
 heaven, that I will ask for that which is by 
 law my own, and if nought can purchase 
 justice but the bones of Reginald, by all 
 the Saints, they shall be yours ere long. I 
 ask your blessing.^' 
 
 " When as a son you merit it, it shall be 
 yours, but not till then," returned the un- 
 daunted woman. " Fare you well." 
 
 " Farewell, Madam," returned Sir Hugh, 
 with a countenance of most sarcastic bitter- 
 ness, as he paused for a moment near the 
 door, " farewell ; and trust me you shall 
 have the evidence you covet ere many weeks 
 have passed. 
 
 Long after the Knight had departed these 
 words wrung fearfully on the mother's ears. 
 They were like an evil prophecy which she 
 had herself provoked, and she shrunk with 
 horror from the possibility of their accom- 
 plishment. 
 
 The hour of her mid-day meal passed 
 over, yet she broke not bread ; the evening
 
 THE WARD OF THE CKOWK. 37 
 
 was fast approaching, jet still she sat A\ith 
 her missal open before her, cold and silent 
 as a statue, save that at times she uncon- 
 sciously chanted wild snatches of a border 
 ballad, or lament over the slain, and then 
 as suddenly ceased, even in the middle of 
 a line. 
 
 At length she hastily arose, and with no 
 other protection from the rain, then falling 
 fast, than the thin, black scarf she cast 
 over her head and shoulders, with hurried 
 steps she left her dwelling. 
 
 Her old servant shook her head and sighed, 
 as she flitted past her window, but she knew 
 that any remonstrance would be in vain, 
 and the lady glided on like a shadow over 
 the heath, towards the village of Bellingham. 
 It was to the church her steps were directed. 
 In those times the' door of the holy edifice 
 was at all hours open, for the pious to offer 
 up their payers ; and Lady Isabel, without 
 heeding the wetness of her garments, crossed 
 the threshold, and passed on to that part 
 of the building where the tombs of the Col-
 
 38 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 lingwoods, for many generations, were carved 
 with rude art. The stone statues of the 
 grandfather of Sir Hugh and his wife lay 
 side by side upon a high gothic bier, next 
 them Sir Ralph was buried, and in the niche 
 beside his tomb, his widow had marked out 
 a place for the graves of herself and her son 
 Reginald. 
 
 To this spot she came daily to pray for 
 his welfare if living, and the peace of his 
 soul if dead. 
 
 The heavy old Norman Church was low 
 and damp and gloomy. Father Ambrose, 
 the parish priest, was commonly the only 
 person who entered it at the hour of the 
 lady's private devotions, and however ex- 
 traordinary might then be the manifestations 
 of her feelings, he understood their import 
 well, and even looked with pity and indul- 
 gence on the mother's woe. 
 
 This evening he came at his accustomed 
 time ; but he was not alone. A monk was 
 at his side, and they stood silently observing 
 her together, near one of the heavy pillars 
 of the opposite aisle. She knelt upon the
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 39 
 
 damp, cold stones, and her spare figure, in 
 her mourning garments, was fitfully visible 
 in the dim light of a narrow, painted window 
 above her head, sometimes waving to and 
 fro, as her wild thoughts travelled rapidly, 
 sometimes fixed like a statue, with her pale 
 face upturned in anxious prayer, her scarf 
 falling back from her sable locks, and her 
 half parted lips breathing disjointed words 
 of inward agony. Then she sang a snatch 
 of a psalm, and then abruptly changing the 
 air to one of wild lament, she continued in 
 low, wailing notes, that brought tears to the 
 eyes of her listeners, the following words, 
 well known as a b|rder dirge : — 
 
 " Bleeding and faint on the field of death, 
 
 The warrior gazed around, 
 He prayed for help ^^•ith his parting breath, 
 
 But no creature heard the sound. 
 
 My mother — my mother ! he feebly cried ! 
 
 No mother was there to hear ; 
 The \vinds to his wail alone replied, 
 
 And the earth was his only bier. 
 
 For the dead man's soul they said no mass, 
 
 They rang no funeral knell, 
 And the whitening bones in the tall rank grass. 
 
 Still lie where the warrior fell.'
 
 40 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 Softly the last words of her song died away, 
 awakening no echo in the gloomy pile, and 
 the mother wildly stretching forth her arms, 
 remained fixed for a few moments in silent 
 supplication. 
 
 " Yes, yes, the day will come," she cried, 
 " when I shall gather together those precious 
 relics, and lay them in the grave ; my wishes 
 even on earth shall be fulfilled," and making 
 the sign of the Cross, she arose and left the 
 church, without remarking those, who, with 
 the deepest interest, had watched all her 
 movements. Little did she dream there was 
 one then in the church who could have 
 spoken words of comfori to her soul, such 
 as she scarcely dared to hope would ever 
 greet her ears on earth. 
 
 " Mad, mad ! lost to all power of reason," 
 was the exclamation of the stranger monk, 
 as she disappeared. 
 
 All he had previously heard being con- 
 firmed by what he had now witnessed, he 
 was convinced that no reliance could be 
 placed on the unsettled intellect of the un-
 
 THE WORD OF THE CROWX, 
 
 4I 
 
 fortunate lady, and silently resolved to con- 
 fide to another the important secret it had 
 been the purpose of his journey thither to 
 communicate to her. And the whole des- 
 tiny of Lady Isabel for many future years 
 was changed by that luckless hour. The 
 soothing cup of peace and love, the stranger 
 was anxious to proffer to her lips, was 
 dashed aside, and she was left to wear away 
 her existence in grief and hopeless solitude. 
 
 So trifling are the accidents that direct 
 the current of life. A word misunderstood — 
 a glance misinterpreted — the vicissitudes of 
 the weather — another man's delay — another 
 man's forgetfulness, have often ere now dis- 
 appointed the proudest hopes, and withered 
 the first buds of good fortune — brought 
 sunshine to the mourner, or saved the young 
 and rejoicing from unforeseen ruin and 
 despair. All are alike the instrument of 
 Providence.
 
 42 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Sir Hugh after his stormy interview with his 
 mother, slowly retraced his steps to his home. 
 He passed through the great wall without 
 paying any attention to the lounging officers 
 and pages who were there playing at tables/'^ 
 chess and cards, and retiring into his own 
 private room, he ordered fresh wood on the 
 fire, and a flagon of wine to drown care ; he 
 then seated himself in gloomy mood, to think 
 over the course most expedient for him to 
 pursue. 
 
 * See the Paston Letters.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 43 
 
 Drinking was the favourite vice in the Nor- 
 thern counties, during that and many follow- 
 ing centuries, and the knight was not sur- 
 passed by any of the neighbouring gentry, in 
 the depth of his potations, when seated by 
 the social board. But that evening he desired 
 no companions ; even wine could not inspire 
 any feeling in his heart, that he wished to 
 communicate to another's friendly ear. 
 
 Dark remembrances thronged upon his 
 mind— fearful images flitted before his brain, 
 which he would fain have banished, but they 
 would not be put away, and well aware that 
 the empty mirth of his ordinary companions 
 would have been powerless to dispel his 
 gloomy abstraction, he resolved, at last, that 
 no one should be witness of it. He trusted 
 that wine would change the current of his 
 thoughts ; but vainly he swallowed goblet 
 after goblet ; it seemed only to render more 
 distinct the visions of battle fields, and the 
 wounded and the dying, which passed before 
 him in dread array, and darkest and most 
 fearful of all, the image of his brother Regi-
 
 44 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 nald weltering in his blood at his feet, as he 
 had last beheld him, in the battle of Hex- 
 ham. He heard his cries for aid — his vain 
 cries to the brother he had recognized amidst 
 the whirl and confusion of the combat, and 
 he strove to close his ears as he did then, 
 against this heart rending appeal for mercy. 
 But his soul heard the sounds. He felt 
 their echo was undying as eternity, and the 
 terrible consciousness, that though he had 
 aimed no stroke at his brother's life, yet, 
 that morally, he had been his murderer, em- 
 bittered that hour, as it had done many of 
 each day, that had followed this coward 
 crime. 
 
 Yet even whilst thus suffering from the 
 stings of conscience, he was enraged to think, 
 that he had hitherio derived no profit from 
 his guilt. He had sworn again and again to 
 his mother, that he had seen her favourite 
 son dead upon the field of battle ; but she 
 refused to receive his evidence alone, as proof 
 of a fact, she wished not to believe ; and the 
 only answer she ever returned him, was a
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 45 
 
 torrent of reproaches for having, if his nar- 
 rative were true, left his brother's body 
 without Christian burial. 
 
 Having been sent by Lord Montague on 
 the evening of the battle, to raise fresh re- 
 cruits in the North, and put his house in the 
 best possible state of defence, against an 
 expected inroad from Scotland in favour of 
 the Lancastrians, he had been unable to 
 make any search for his brother's body, im- 
 mediately after his death, and an order he 
 had now received to join the royal army of 
 Edward the Fourth, on the morrow, rendered 
 all chance of procuring further evidence, 
 impossible for a time. 
 
 He had wrought under various pretexts to 
 delay this journey until his empty purse was 
 replenished by his mother's jewels ; but a 
 letter he had that morning received an- 
 nouncing, that in spite of Lord Hastings's 
 intercession with the king, his excuses no 
 longer met a favourable reception, rendered 
 all further delay impossible. 
 
 His orders were already given, and all
 
 46 THE WARB OF THE CROWN. 
 
 things in readiness for his departure on the 
 morrow, yet he took no thought of repose, 
 and flinging another huge log on the fire, as 
 the distant village clock struck the midnight 
 hour, he sat apparently lost in thought, 
 watching the progress of the flames as they 
 flickered and curled around it. 
 
 He was first disturbed from this half 
 dreaming state, by the sound of a horse be- 
 neath the walls. Then a shrill blast at the 
 gate, provoked the challenge of the warder, 
 and anon he heard the drawbridge lowered, 
 and a bustle in the court beneath, announced 
 the arrival of a stranger ; a circumstance so 
 unwonted at such an hour, excited both his 
 curiosity and anxiety, nor were either in any 
 degree diminished, when a servant announced, 
 that a man in the garments of a monk, had 
 just arrived from Newcastle, and wished to 
 communicate with him immediately on 
 business of importance. 
 
 Fearful of another, and perhaps angry 
 summons from the King, the Knight ordered 
 a S2Con(l flagon of wine to be brought, and
 
 THE WAPwD OF THE CROWK. 47 
 
 the stranger to be conducted, without delay, 
 to his apartment. 
 
 Both commands were quickly obeyed, 
 though the first was a needless provision, for 
 the monk refused the proffered cheer. 
 
 He was a tall, dark, thin man, about five 
 and forty years of age. He wore the dress 
 of his order, and there was something in 
 the quiet dignity of his simple manner that 
 at once overawed the Knight. His ordinary 
 smooth yet audacious courtesy, entirely for- 
 sook him, and when they were left alone, it 
 was with an embarrassment he could not 
 master that he demanded, to what circum- 
 stance he was indebted for the honour of 
 the stranger's company. 
 
 " My intrusion would certainly demand 
 some excuse,'' replied the Priest, " did I 
 come hither at this dead hour of the night 
 on matters that concerned myself ; but Sir 
 Hugh CoUingwood will, doubtless, pardon 
 me, when he knows that my visit has no 
 personal object.'^ 
 
 " May I presume you are a royal mes-
 
 48 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 
 
 senger V replied the Knight with increasing 
 awe and wonder. 
 
 " No, I am not so honoured," was the an- 
 swer, " my business is of a private, not a 
 public nature, though, I apprehend, not 
 therefore the less important. You are the 
 second son. Sir, I believe, of Sir Ealph Col- 
 lingwood V he added, in a tone that changed 
 the whole current of his listener's thoughts 
 in an instant. 
 
 " Yes ! the second son, and sole surviving 
 heir," was the Knight's caustic reply. 
 
 " Yes, so I have been informed," calmly 
 responded the Priest, " since it is believed 
 that Keginald the eldest son was slain at the 
 battle of Hexham. But is that certain. Sir 
 Hugh r 
 
 " Alas ! I grieve to say," sighed his host, 
 " I saw him myself in the thickest of the 
 fight, stricken down by an arrow from Lord 
 Montague's archers and trodden under foot 
 by the flying Lancastrians." 
 
 " And the body r 
 
 " I found it on the morrow, and gave it
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 49 
 
 Christian burial," answered the Knight with 
 an unblushing cheek. " The features were 
 so disfigured, I could scarcely recognise ray 
 brother." 
 
 " Might you not be deceived V inquired 
 the stranger. 
 
 " Oh, no, no ; I knew him but too well," 
 returned Sir Hugh, with a shudder no art 
 could feign. " There cannot be a doubt of 
 his death ; but may I ask. Sir Priest," he 
 continued in a more decided tone, for he 
 had now no longer any fears of royal dis- 
 pleasure, " if you come not with the King's 
 authority, by what right you presume to 
 question me in this strange manner V 
 
 " You have probably heard of Lady Mar- 
 garet Selwyn, and her connexion with your 
 family," returned the stranger tranquilly. 
 " If you will only take the trouble to peruse 
 these papers, you will, without further ex- 
 planation, understand the cause of my intru- 
 sion," and he handed, as he spoke, a small 
 packet to the Knight. 
 
 Sir Hugh unfolded the papers it contained 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE WARD OF THE CROWF. 
 
 with the utmost eagerness, and scarcely had 
 he glanced over a few lines of the first, 
 when his e3^es flashed, and his florid visage 
 became pale with rage. 
 
 " Another heir 1" he exclaimed, " In the 
 name of all the saints, what audacious folly 
 is this 1 Have you yet to learn that no trai- 
 tor, who dies in arms and open rebellion 
 against his King, can talk of heirs. When 
 my brother Reginald went into the field of 
 battle for feeble Lan<iaster, he forfeited his 
 birth-right ; and had not his father, old Sir 
 Ralph, and I, been most zealous servants to 
 the House of York, all the ancient posses- 
 sions of our ancestors had now been seized 
 by the crown." 
 
 " It is possible. Sir Hugh," was the reply 
 of the monk, " for power in this world is not 
 always justly exercised. But yet the ties of 
 consanguinity are sacred, in good men's 
 hearts — afiection for a brother's memory a 
 yet more holy bond ; and on that feeling in 
 your breast, I have presumed to count,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 51 
 
 though I know, to my sorrow, that even- 
 handed justice no longer bears the scales in 
 this distracted kingdom." 
 
 " These are fine texts for your sermons, 
 no doubt/' answered the Knight with a 
 sneer, " but would afford a sorry excuse for 
 the fool who should strip himself of his 
 house and lands, in open defiance of the 
 King's pleasure. Let me hear no more of 
 such audacious expectations, vSir Priest ; and 
 the next time you make a midnight journey 
 over the moors, I advise you to carry your 
 merchandise to a better market ;" and as he 
 ceased speaking, he threw the papers with 
 indignation on the table. 
 
 The monk quietly gathered them together, 
 and replaced them in the folds of his gar- 
 ment, ere he replied, " I am disappointed, I 
 will candidly tell you, Sir Hugh — even for 
 your own sake, I am disappointed by the 
 result of this interview. I have placed it 
 in your power to do a noble and generous 
 action ; but since your heart is equally cal- 
 lous to a sense of justice, and the tender 
 D 3 
 
 ^^^^"^"^
 
 52 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 charities of life, I must appeal to others, to 
 befriend my cause. Trust me, I despair not ; 
 the times are full of change, and York may 
 not for ever wear the crown he has usurped. 
 Those who triumph to-day, should yet be 
 prudent, and make friends amongst the ranks 
 of their enemies, to save them from the 
 scaffold, to which to-morrow may see them 
 condemned." 
 
 " You are a politic knave, by my faith,'' 
 said the Knight, who, when his first passion 
 subsided, quickly perceived the course most 
 expedient for him to pursue, in the unforeseen 
 emergency in which he was placed. " In 
 truth," he continued, "there is reason in what 
 you say, and if the proofs were indispu- 
 table " 
 
 " Beyond all shadow of doubt \" 
 " And were I disposed to listen to them, 
 must I accept them on your unsupported 
 authority V 
 
 " Certainly not ! The papers, you per- 
 ceive, are all drawn out and signed in regu- 
 lar order ; and when the times are more
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 53 
 
 tranquil, I can produce many witnesses. In 
 the meantime, you will perhaps lend more 
 credence to my story, when I inform you, 
 that I was confessor to my Lord Selwyn, 
 and attended him during his last moments. 
 You have seen me frequently at his table. 
 Sir Hugh, when you were a youth ; when 
 we were both of his household, ere he had 
 taken part in the civil wars." 
 
 The Knight surveyed his guest with a 
 more observant glance than before, and was 
 unwillingly compelled to admit the fact of 
 their previous acquaintance. 
 
 Such was the high and well deserved 
 reputation of the priest, that, after this ad- 
 mission, he could no longer presume to dispute 
 the truth of his assertions. He saw like- 
 wise that his best policy was to temporise ; 
 and, drawing the holy man again into con- 
 versation, he pretended to be convinced by 
 his arguments ; then perusing with attention 
 the papers he had before cast from him with 
 disdain, he felt that it was of the utmost 
 importance to him to become possessed of these
 
 54 THE WARD OF THE CROWJf. 
 
 documents. Gradually, therefore, changing 
 his manner, he no longer disputed the claims 
 advanced by the priest ; and finally, as if 
 conquered by his persuasions, professed his 
 readiness to comply for the present with his 
 charitable wishes, as far as the state of the' 
 times permitted ; and for the future, should 
 a happier occasion present itself, to fulfil all 
 that moral justice required of him. 
 
 The confessor doubted his good faith in 
 spite of these professions ; and though he 
 received many fair promises from Sir Hugh, 
 he was too much a man of the world to be 
 beguiled by the courtesy of one, who had 
 so suddenly changed his tone and manner. 
 He well knew the Knight's denial was only 
 softened by a clearer perception of his own 
 interest ; and he resolved, in his turn, to de- 
 fend to the utmost of his power, the interests 
 for which he came thither to plead, with a 
 fond hope of securing a protector, at least, 
 for the fatherless babe, though the changes 
 of the times might for ever deprive it of its 
 birth-right.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 55 
 
 But though the mistrust between the 
 gentleman and his guest was thus mutual, 
 they had formed an, apparently, amicable 
 contract, when, as the first hour of the night 
 struck, the confessor left the castle, and 
 mounting his horse, to the great wonder of 
 the grooms, rode quickly up the road lead- 
 ing towards the hills. 
 
 No sooner was all once more quiet in his 
 
 dwelling, than Sir Hugh retired to the small 
 
 chamber used as his oratory, and there 
 
 secured the door, as if anxious not to be 
 
 interrupted in his devotions. But it was 
 
 soon evident he had not come thither to 
 
 pray. He lighted a small lantern, wrapped 
 
 a cloak, lined with sheep skin, around him, 
 
 and then touching a spring behind the 
 
 painted, wooden image of our Lady on the 
 
 altar, a narrow door flew open, and discovered 
 
 a winding staircase in the wall. 
 
 By this he quickly descended a height of 
 more than forty feet, and then passed rapidly 
 along a narrow, stone, arched passage, under 
 the moat, till at length, after re-mounting a
 
 56 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 flight of steps, the cold, night air blew into 
 the damp avenue, and the sound of a dis- 
 tant torrent, rushing over a stony bed, was 
 distinctly to be heard. 
 
 The moon was shining between the drift- 
 ing clouds, and Sir Hugh extinguished his 
 light, before he emerged through a cleft in 
 the broken, rocky ground, that externally 
 bore only the appearance of a fox hole, half 
 covered by brambles and hanging weeds and 
 roots, midway up the bank of the wild, moun- 
 tain stream of which we have previously 
 spoken. He listened a moment, as if afraid 
 of being watched ; but all was silent around, 
 save the rushing of the wind and the stream, 
 and the screeching of the owls from the 
 old elm trees. Convinced of this, he quickly 
 turned into the first beaten track he found 
 amongst the bushes, and hurried on with rapid 
 steps, sometimes amongst rocks, and weeds, 
 and briars ; at others, over more level ground, 
 where the blue hyacinth and primrose spread 
 a painted mantle. At length he came to 
 a spot where, at a curve of the stream,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 57 
 
 the banks widened, so as to leave a lit- 
 tle, semicircular meadow on the north side 
 of the water. 
 
 The moon was low, and the further end 
 of the narrow valley lay in the deep shadow 
 of the hills ; yet the Knight distinctly saw 
 a small light, like the ray of a taper, gleam- 
 ing there, which convinced him he had not 
 mistaken the way. Had he consulted 
 his own desires, even then he would have 
 turned back ; but money makes many a stout 
 man a slave, and Sir Hugh thought, a con- 
 siderable portion of this precious commodity, 
 would be best secured by the sacrifice of his 
 momentary feelings. Over-ruled by such 
 prudent considerations, he hurried on towards 
 the place from whence the light proceeded. 
 It had once been a mill, but the principal 
 part of the building, having been burnt 
 during a Scottish invasion, some eight, or 
 ten years before, the ruined walls hung dark 
 and silent over the passing stream. 
 
 One small hovel alone, once part of the 
 miller's abode, had been covered in, and 
 D 5
 
 58 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 made fit for a human dwelling place. From 
 a window in this part of the building, the 
 light seen by the Knight proceeded, and at 
 the old oaken door, a few paces to the right 
 of the casement, he softly knocked for ad- 
 mission. 
 
 It was immediately opened by the same 
 priest who had been his midnight visiter, 
 and though there was a bland smile upon 
 his lips, a cold shudder shook the frame of 
 Sir Hugh, as he crossed the threshold of the 
 miserable dwelling, and heard the door 
 closed behind him. Yet a good man could 
 have had no cause for apprehension there. 
 No one dwelt in the cottage except the poor 
 miller, who after the destruction of his little 
 property, had fought as a Lancastrian soldier, 
 till, disabled by many wounds, he had re- 
 cently returned to seek tranquillity and con- 
 cealment in this secluded spot, and to drag 
 out the remnant of his days, where his 
 merry childhood had been passed. 
 
 But Sir Hugh did not even know that he 
 had returned. The old, fixed, wooden bed-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 59 
 
 stead still stood against the wall, with its 
 shutters half closed, as he remembered it 
 many years before, when he had sought shelter 
 in the ruin from a heavy storm ; but there 
 was no other trace of any provision for 
 human comfort, save the fire, the monk had 
 probably rekindled, the wood laid ready to 
 replenish it, and the small lamp he had 
 hung near the window to guide the steps of 
 his guest. 
 
 " Peace be unto you," said the priest, in 
 a voice so bland and calm, as to banish even 
 the apprehensions of Sir Hugh. " I rejoice, 
 for your own sake, you have not failed in 
 your word. I trust you are still ready to 
 undertake all you have promised." 
 
 " Why should I else come hither ?" was 
 the reply ; " it is no hour for idle rambles. 
 But methinks you are here alone V 
 
 " Not quite," replied the confessor, with 
 a smile, and advancing towards the b:d, he 
 put his arms within the half closed shutters, 
 and drew forth something, which, in that 
 gloomy corner, appeared to the Knight, a
 
 60 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 
 
 bundle of tumbled garments. But as the 
 priest advanced towards him with his 
 burthen, the light of the lamp fell upon the 
 blooming features of a sleeping infant. 
 
 It was a lovely boy, probably about six 
 months old. 
 
 " The likeness is so striking, as to be 
 alone sufficient proof of all I have asserted," 
 said the holy man, as he held the child to- 
 wards Sir Hugh, and gazed on it himself, with 
 an admiring and loving eye, as if he would 
 gladly have claimed it for his own. 
 
 " Old women may spy such resemblances," 
 was the rough reply, " but they are ever 
 lost on me. I find them only between man 
 and man. Give me your papers. Sir Priest. 
 I would fain have the testimony of some 
 other living witness besides yourself, I con- 
 fess ; but since none can now be summoned, 
 let me have the papers at least. At some 
 future day I may find means to establish 
 their validity." 
 
 " Of that. Sir Hugh, I have no fear," 
 answered the monk. " You must be well
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWI^. 61 
 
 aware I can have no personal interest to de- 
 ceive jou in this afiair ; as I have before told 
 you, these papers are all signed by the proper 
 authorities, and drawn up in legal form. I 
 am sure there is no need for me to recommend 
 them to your care, nor to implore you to 
 remember the importance of the charge you 
 have undertaken. Though no one else may 
 survive to call you to a future account, my 
 observation will be for ever upon you, to 
 watch how you fulfil the task ; and be assured 
 that heaven will reward, or punish you, in 
 just measure, as you perform, or fail in your 
 duty towards the child I now place in your 
 arms. Not only the destiny of this infant, 
 but your own, is in your keeping ; and remem- 
 ber, that often when man thinks his secret 
 crimes are crowned with sure prosperity, the 
 arm of vengeance is already stretched forth 
 to strike him down amidst all the glory of 
 his vain exultation." 
 
 " I have no wife to whose care I can con- 
 fide the babe,'' returned the Knight : " my
 
 62 THE WARD OF THE CROWJN^. 
 
 wretched mother is mad, past all control, but 
 I give you mj solemn oath, he shall be 
 fostered and educated as my own son." 
 
 " Till he has reached the age of twenty 
 one ; I ask no more," was the reply, " but 
 remember, it will not then be forgotten, that 
 he has other rights ; and it is my parting ad- 
 vice to you to be prepared to acknowledge 
 them/' 
 
 " We may all sleep in the grave long 
 before then," said Sir Hugh, carelessly, who 
 having wrapped the sleeping infant in his 
 cloak was impatient to depart. 
 
 The monk, without any reply to these 
 words of doubtful meaning, advanced to 
 take a parting glance of the child, which 
 he had borne in his arms during long days 
 of travel, till his heart clung to it with a 
 parent's love. His duties and its mother's 
 wishes had compelled him to resign it to 
 its father's relatives ; but the hard character 
 of Sir Hugh, to whose disadvantage he had 
 previously heard nothing but his being of
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW^'. 63 
 
 the house of York, filled him with mistrust ; 
 and when he saw him about to quit the 
 hovel, he would have given much to have 
 been able to recal the confidence he had 
 placed in him. But the die was cast. 
 
 " Bj what name has the child been bap- 
 tized'?" demanded the Knight, suddenly 
 pausing as he approached the door. 
 
 " By that of Hubert, as you will see by 
 the register," was the priest's reply. 
 
 " I observed it not," rejoined Sir Hugh, 
 " and by my faith, at this dead hour of the 
 night, it is no wonder that my eyes are 
 somewhat dull. I wish you farewell ^ and 
 without further salutation, he passed forth 
 into the open moonlight. The monk, with 
 many anxious thoughts for the future, gazed 
 after him for a few moments, and then clos- 
 ing the door, returned into the hovel. 
 
 " All the saints in heaven be praised, that 
 he is safely departed, and I may take a 
 mouthful of fresh air, at last," said a voice 
 from the wooden bedstead, whilst the priest
 
 64 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 returned towards the fire, and the head of 
 the worthy miller, crowned with a red, wollen 
 night cap, forthwith made its appearance 
 between the half closed shutters. 
 
 " You heard all, Andrew V eagerly de- 
 manded the confessor. 
 
 " Ay, truly did I. I made good use both 
 of my eyes and my ears," he replied, " for 
 there is a chink in the old planks, and I 
 could see all from my hiding place." 
 
 " And in case of need, you could swear 
 that I gave the child into his hands. You 
 could swear to all that passed V 
 
 " To every word," he replied. " Yet to 
 speak plainly, holy father, I did not like his 
 manner. But 1 am always here to be on 
 the watch, and if he deals unfairly by the 
 poor, fatherless babe — you shall hear of it 
 in a trice, when you will have only to call 
 Andrew the miller to give his testimony, and 
 if there be law in the land — " 
 
 " But there is no law in the land," re- 
 turned the holy man, sadly.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 65 
 
 " That cannot last for ever/' said the 
 miller, " everything may be upside down 
 for awhile ; the king may be called a traitor, 
 and a traitor may be called a king ; but that 
 cannot hold long, in old England, at least. 
 There are too many honest, quiet, right 
 thinking people in the land for such abomi- 
 nations to last, and as soon as the unruly, 
 hot-headed rebels, who have thrown all into 
 confusion, have had time enough to kill one 
 another, all things will go on as smoothly 
 as ever again, and Sir Hugh Collingwood 
 may be hanged, if he should commit a mur- 
 der, as well as any other man." 
 
 " Heaven grant he may not deserve it, 
 Andrew," was the reply, '• but be it your 
 charge to keep a strict watch upon his 
 actions, and send me intelligence, if any- 
 thing of vital import happens. You are 
 the only being in the north of England who 
 knows the whole of this sad story, and for 
 the sake of those who are gone, I count on 
 your faithful services." 
 
 " I am only sorry you did not trust the
 
 66 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 mother rather than the son," letumed the 
 old man. " Though his brother Reginald 
 believed him his friend to the last, and only 
 blamed his father for all that had happened, 
 I had no confidence in his plausible profes- 
 sions. He is only less of a hypocrite now, 
 because the usurper's favour secures him his 
 possessions and he defies all other claims. 
 It is true he has no fear of the child, and 
 so I hope will deal justly by it, but for all 
 that I wish his mother had it in the Manor 
 House." 
 
 " Had I known both better, I would have 
 considered longer ere I obeyed its mother's 
 injunctions," returned the priest, " for if 
 there is reason to mistrust Sir Hugh, what 
 confidence could I place in a woman who is 
 nearly mad — the whole neighbourhood de- 
 clare it." 
 
 " According to what such fools say, all 
 the world is mad but themselves," said the 
 miller, " but though the Lady Isabel has 
 odd ways, to be sure, trust me, her head
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 67 
 
 is as clear as a judge's in the King's courts. 
 She has known nothing but care and sor- 
 row, ever since her hu.sband brought her 
 within his threshold ; for the first night 
 she arrived, Sir Ealph had well nigh killed 
 his brother' in her presence ! Ah ! he was 
 a wicked man, and was ever at war with 
 all his kindred and neighbours, till at last 
 he cursed his own son, and the poor lady 
 lost the only pleasure she had upon earth. 
 Ah, sir, it was a sorrowful morning when 
 I followed Master Reginald to the wars. 
 Lady Isabel met us in the cold, grey twi- 
 light, down by St. Mark's well, and I shall 
 never forget the scene that passed. She 
 pressed him again and again in her arms, 
 but she spoke little, and never shed a tear, 
 till at length, when I forced her son away, 
 she fell as if an arrow had pierced her 
 heart, stifT, and cold to the ground. I tar- 
 ried to give her aid, and when she recovered 
 her senses, and saw that he was gone, she 
 made no lament. She arose calmly and
 
 68 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 solemnly, and went back to her home, like 
 one who had no further business on earth. 
 I have seen her since I returned — and she 
 is just the same — like a spirit that walks 
 the earth, impatient till its time of rest is 
 come." 
 
 " You are blinded by old habits and feel- 
 ings, Andrew,'' returned the priest, " but I 
 have seen enough myself, to leave not a 
 doubt on my mind, that^ the lady's intellect 
 is too unsettled for her to be trusted with a 
 secret of such vital importance." 
 
 " If you will needs have it so, holy father, 
 I can say no more, and in truth it is now too 
 late," was the miller's answer. 
 
 " We will trust in Providence," said the 
 monk, " the judgment of man is ever prone 
 yo err. But it is time we thought of taking 
 some repose, for I have a long journey to 
 perform to-morrow. Let us say a short 
 prayer, and then put out the light." 
 
 This done, the miller crept again into his 
 dark resting place, whilst the monk, seating
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 69 
 
 himself on a block of wood beside the fire, 
 and leaning back against the wall, with his 
 arms crossed on his breast, soon sunk into a 
 profound sleep
 
 70 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The mind of Sir Hugh Collingwood was 
 greatly perplexed and troubled ; when, after 
 leaving the mill, he retrod the forest paths. 
 He had given the confessor many fair pro- 
 mises, though without the smallest intention 
 of fulfilling any of them, and he had no 
 sooner lost sight of the light in the hovel, 
 than thoughts of the most evil character 
 filled his brain. 
 
 There, alone, under the canopy of night.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 71 
 
 alone in the deep, dark wood, with not a 
 human eye to mark his deeds, fearful temp- 
 tations assailed him. Evil spirits seemed to 
 throng the air, and whisper words of flatter- 
 ing promise in his ear ; evil spirits seemed 
 to upbraid him for his momentary hesitation, 
 and to nerve his hand, as he gathered his 
 mantle in thick folds over the face of the 
 sleeping child. 
 
 " Its cries shall not even reach the ears of 
 the priest, though he follow in my track," he 
 thought ; but at that moment he heard, once 
 more, the voice of his brother, as on the 
 battle-field, calling in vain for mercy ; he 
 saw him raise his arms with a wild, implor- 
 ing glance, and the fatal mantle fell from 
 his grasp. 
 
 Hell yawned before him — the spectres of 
 the past surrounded him with wild menaces 
 of judgment, and the Knight, starting back 
 from the impalpable visions, crossed his cold, 
 damp forehead with trembling fingers, and 
 murmured a pater noster. 
 
 This done, he stood a few minutes motion-
 
 72 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 less, in the midst of the large forest ; and 
 fearful in the meanwhile, was the strug- 
 gle between good and evil in his heart. 
 The remembrance of his debts, his embar- 
 rassments, and the danger of his position, 
 all thronged to his mind ; but the form 
 of his dying brother rose ever terrible and 
 menacing before him, and he recoiled with 
 horror from the commission of murder — a 
 second murder. 
 
 The grey light of dawn was gleaming 
 over the desolate plain, yet Sir Hugh, after 
 long wandering about the woods uncertain 
 in what manner to dispose of his helpless 
 burthen, was still treading with hurried 
 steps a lonely path over the moors ; but 
 no longer in hesitation and doubt. 
 
 His struggles were at an end^ — his plan 
 was chosen, and a few minutes after sun- 
 rise, he stood with the infant, so enveloped 
 in his mantle that no man could have guessed 
 the nature of his burthen, under the stone - 
 arched porch of the Vicarage of the village 
 of Bellinghem.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 73 
 
 It was a small, low building, thatched 
 with close shorn heath, the dark brown tint 
 of which, was varied by the bright hues of 
 the wild flowers and mosses, which had drank 
 the dew, and blossomed in the sunbeams 
 there, for more than a century. The Gothic 
 windows, unlike those in the neighbouring 
 cottages, of the peasantry, were glazed, and 
 together with the little garden before the 
 door, of cabbage and lettuce, intermingled 
 with a few plants of rosemary and thyme, 
 gave it an air of superior comfort and order. 
 
 The summons of the Knight, for admission, 
 was speedily answered by the worthy Father 
 Ambrose in person, who loudly expressed his 
 astonishment, on the recognition of so un- 
 expected a guest. 
 
 " It may happen, you may be more aston- 
 ished when you learn my errand," answered 
 Sir Hugh, " But are you alone 1 for I have 
 a matter to confide to you that brooks no 
 witnesses !" 
 
 " In truth it just so happens," answered 
 the priest, " for my old housekeeper, Peggy, 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 
 
 has gone to nurse the shepherd's wife on the 
 Broom hill, who is ill of a raging fever. 
 But come in, Sir Hugh, it befitteth not for 
 you to stand in the porch, when my poor 
 dwelling is open to receive you,'' and he 
 made way as he spoke, for his visiter to enter 
 the cottage. 
 
 The Knight passed him in silence, into a 
 low apartment, which to judge by the missal 
 open on the table near the window, the 
 culinary articles around the walls, and the 
 porridge pot simmering above the wood fire, 
 served the good priest in the double capacity 
 of kitchen and study. A kind of ceiling 
 was formed above the low rafters, by the 
 boarded floor of the upper story, and dried 
 simples and garden seeds hung suspended 
 there, intermingled with pieces of smoked 
 bacon, salmon and wild venison. 
 
 The vicar was a pale, middle sized man, 
 about thirty, clothed in a long black gown ; 
 and his character was as simple as his dwel- 
 ling. He was a good, pious, well meaning 
 churchman, impressed with the truth of the
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 75 
 
 religion he professed, and ever anxious to 
 fulfil its precepts. Ilis gentle soul knew no 
 ambition, and contented in obscurity, with- 
 out any superior talent or activity, he was 
 beloved and respected by his neighbours, as 
 a man who did no evil. 
 
 Thoroughly acquainted with his character, 
 Sir Hugh was well aware, no criminal assist- 
 ance could be expected from him, in his 
 present embarrassment ; and his plan was 
 arranged accordingly. 
 
 "I have brought you a present, Father 
 Ambrose," he said, ere he accepted the .^eat 
 the priest had placed for him before the fire, 
 *' and though it is neither a fat buck, nor 
 a Tweed salmon, I have still hope you will 
 cherish it, for the sake of me, and mine." 
 
 " Can it be a young hound," returned his 
 host. 
 
 " No, not a hound neither, but something 
 ten times more troublesome, or a hundred 
 times more precious, according as men are 
 pleased to consider it. A child — a boy, Sir ! 
 a creature like ourselves, with a soul to be 
 E 3
 
 76 THE WARD OF THE CROW^, 
 
 saved, and therefore I judge, in no hands can 
 I place it better than in thine," and the 
 Knight opened his mantle, and fully displayed 
 his burthen. 
 
 " Sir Hugh, you astonish me \" exclaimed 
 the vicar, as his eyes fell on the lovely 
 infant. 
 
 " I thought men had ceased to be aston- 
 ished in these wild times !" was his visiter's 
 reply, " at least, I have, long ago. But to 
 the object of my coming hither. Father Am- 
 brose. Heavy trials and misfortunes have 
 already robbed this child of a mother's care. 
 It has strong claims on my protection and 
 support ; but my duties in the court, aad the 
 camp, and my unmarried state, render it 
 impossible for me personally to fulfil the 
 charge. I know no one to whom I can so 
 conscientiously commit the direction of its 
 education, as, yourself, and, confiding in your 
 holy and benevolent character, I have come 
 to request you, the confessor, and old friend 
 of my family, to become the protector of 
 this innocent and motherless babe."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 77 
 
 ^' And its father lives ?' demanded the 
 priest with blushing cheeks. 
 
 " He has already confessed, and received 
 full absolution," was the equivocal reply of 
 the Knight, whilst he affected a confusion 
 intended to convey a meaning very different 
 from the truth, to his host. " We are all 
 sinners, more or less, in this valley of dark- 
 ness, Father Ambrose. Your pure soul can 
 ill understand the temptations of a court, 
 but your charity can pity and forgive the 
 weak man who yields to them, in an evil 
 moment for himself and others ; and I feel 
 certain, that now, when I am anxious to do 
 all in my power, as an expiation of the past, 
 by giving the child a religious education, and 
 causing it to be brought up as a future ser- 
 vant of the church, you will not refuse to 
 aid my well meant endeavours." 
 
 " It is a grave charge for a man, who like 
 me, has no experience in such matters," re- 
 turned Father Ambrose, with hesitation, 
 " were it half a dozen years older — " 
 
 " Leave it till then in old Peggy's charge,
 
 78 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 and I shall be content," was the answer, 
 " it need give you little trouble, till it can 
 read a Latin grammar/' 
 
 " And you wish it to be brought up to 
 the Church T 
 
 " Yes, in good sooth, I would fain save it 
 from its father's temptations, and moreover 
 without acknowledged parents, the boy will 
 be best in a monastery. Breed him up for 
 a monk, Father Ambrose, in meekness and 
 obedience, and I will engage to pay you a 
 yearly stipend to indemnify you for all 
 charges and trouble." 
 
 " You are generous, Sir Hugh," returned 
 the confessor, " but money is no object to 
 me. If I knew more of the child's parent- 
 age — of any real necessity there exists for 
 my adopting him — were I shown he had no 
 relatives to whom of right this charge be- 
 longed." 
 
 '• Father Ambrose," said the knight, some- 
 what impatiently, " have I not already told 
 you the mother is dead, whilst I, as its 
 father's only representative, confide it to your
 
 TnE WARD OF THE CROWX. 79 
 
 care. What shall I saj further — it is pain- 
 ful to me to he more explicit — were I to tell 
 you it is my own child, jou could not refuse 
 mv prayer ; and yet I have said almost as 
 much."' 
 
 '•' Enough, Sir Knight f answered the 
 vicar. " If you will engage, on your honor, 
 to provide for the future maintenance of the 
 child, I ask no more questions, but promise 
 at once to cherish it, as if it were my sister's 
 son," 
 
 " So let the world think it," returned Sir 
 Hugh eagerly. 
 
 '•' I will impose upon no man," said the 
 priest. 
 
 " Yet you will engage never to betray to 
 any one, what I have now confided to you !" 
 
 *• I will not engage to be the keeper of 
 any man's secrets. Sir Hugh ; but without a 
 moral necessity, I will betray no man's con- 
 fidence," and with this assurance, the 
 Knight was compelled to be content, after 
 many vain efforts to wring a more solemn 
 promise of silence from his host. Con- 
 vinced however of the virtuous and un-
 
 80 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 loquacious character of the confessor, he felt 
 his mind relieved from a heavy load of 
 care. 
 
 " The boy is baptized/' he said, ere he 
 departed, " and let him for the future be 
 called by the name of Hubert Saville. I 
 depart tomorrow for the court, Father Am- 
 brose, but in any case of necessity you can 
 always write to me there. The money shall 
 not fail to be regularly paid, and be assured, 
 I shall ever remain grateful for your ready 
 compliance with my wishes. Farewell," and 
 impatient of further delay, he hurried down 
 the garden, and by the least frequented 
 paths, regained the secret passage to his 
 chamber. 
 
 An hour later, and Father Christopher, the 
 stranger monk, found, and recognized the 
 infant in the vicarage ; but though he 
 quickly gleaned enough from his unsuspi- 
 cious host, fully to understand the story 
 which had been imposed upon him, not in 
 the least degree did he betray his previous 
 and better knowledge of the boy's history.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 81 
 
 Secretly rejoiced that the babe had found 
 a home under the roof of so worthy and 
 pious a man, he ere long left the north, to 
 await with patience those political changes, 
 he felt no doubt would one day arrive, before 
 which, he well knew, there was no hope 
 that his young charge could ever regain the 
 inheritance of his father. 
 
 E 5
 
 82 THE WARD OF THE CROWIT. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Years passed away after Hubert Saville was 
 placed with the good vicar of Bellinghem, 
 and the public affairs of England and the 
 private interests of its inhabitants, under- 
 went many, and important changes, as the 
 boy grew up towards manhood. 
 
 The unsuccessful rising of the Earl of 
 Warwick, ended in his destruction, and the 
 discredit of all his family and adherents, 
 Henry the Sixth and his unfortunate son
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 83 
 
 both fell into the grave, and Edward the 
 Fourth was firmly seated on the throne. The 
 apen, civil warfare was for a time appeased, 
 which had so long devastated the whole king- 
 dom, brought down the proud and the rich, 
 like ripe corn before the sickle, to the earth, 
 swept away many of the noblest families 
 from the land, choked the charnel houses 
 with the poor, and left the needy peasants 
 and artisans in such misery, that they en- 
 vied rather than mourned the dead. 
 
 A great whirlwind had swept over the 
 whole surface of society, and the most 
 eminent had been borne down, to learn, in 
 the abject depths of misery and want, 
 what they might never else have known — 
 the sufferings common to the great body 
 of the poor, honest, labouring Englishmen, 
 under the pressure of feudal power. But 
 none of the poor had risen ; none of their 
 causes of complaint had been done away 
 with. The war had been a war of am- 
 bitious factions and jealous nobility, too 
 povrortul to be kept under wholesome re-
 
 84 THE WARP OF THE CROWN, 
 
 straint bj a feeble-minded monarch, whilst 
 they were too accustomed to commotion, 
 and rapine, and intrigue, and too proud to 
 submit, at first, tranquilly to the dominion 
 of his succesor, Edward, who, once their 
 equal, had been raised by their own efforts 
 to the throne. 
 
 But at length, when the struggle appeared 
 over, those who remembered England before 
 the rebellion, were convinced that years 
 must elapse ere the kingdom was again as 
 prosperous, as in those tranquil days. The 
 merchant felt it would be long till credit 
 could be restored, till a home-demand for 
 his manufactures again revived ; the farmer 
 deplored the past when he thought of the 
 numerous seasons that must pass away, be- 
 fore his neglected lands could be brought, by 
 patient toil, to yield such cropsas formerly 
 and the poor peasant, whilst he again 
 tilled his little garden plot, had no hope 
 to see, in his own time, his burnt and 
 blackened orchard, bending with the golden 
 fruits of autumn.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 85 
 
 Yet though not apparent in the first lull 
 of repose, the lower and middle classes had 
 won inestimable advantages from this long, 
 civil war. The power of the innumerable 
 feudal tyrants, which had so long distracted 
 the land, was broken down ; their property, 
 in many cases, had passed into the hands 
 of traders, and thence circulated amongst 
 society ; their strong arm was crushed, and 
 the influence of the crown and the authority 
 of law, strengthened ; whilst the way was 
 opened for many of those wise, though unpopu- 
 lar acts, by which King Henry the Seventh 
 subsequently established the repose of the 
 kingdom on a lasting and solid foundation. 
 
 Edward the Fourth was a friend to the 
 merchants, from whom his extravagance kept 
 him in perpetual need of loans, but his pas- 
 sion was pleasure, and weary of contentions 
 and strife, he, on the return of peace, 
 eagerly indulged his natural propensity for 
 sensual and luxurious indulgences, without 
 paying much heed to the wants, or wishes 
 of his people. Factions and jealousies divided
 
 86 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 his court, especially between his brothers the 
 Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, and the 
 relatives of his Queen, Elizabeth Grey ; but 
 as long as they led to no acts of violent and 
 open hostility, he left them to take their 
 course, and continued his amours and revels, 
 with a tranquil indifference as to the past, 
 the present, and the future. 
 
 Sir Hugh Collingwood, after the conclusion 
 of the war, had been enabled by his marriage 
 with the wealthy heiress of a rich, city tra- 
 der, to maintain his place at the court, and 
 to share in its dissipations. His wife, after 
 having given birth to a daughter, died ere 
 they had been married a year, and the 
 Knight, rejoiced to be once more released 
 from all restraint, laid her corpse with due 
 honours in his family vault, and left his 
 child under his mother's care, to be nursed 
 by the wife of an honest peasant in the 
 village of Bellinghem. 
 
 This made, at first, no change in the habits 
 of the Lady Isab^cl ; she did not love her 
 granddaughter, but she resolved to do her duty
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 87 
 
 towards the babe. It was daily brought to 
 her at the Manor House, that she might be 
 assured of its health, though till it was 
 more than two years old, she scarcely seemed 
 to notice its beauty. But wlien it began 
 to speak, when it knew her, when it ran 
 towards her with a laugh of joyful recog- 
 nition, and lisped her name in broken ac- 
 cents, her stern heart was touched ; and for- 
 getting the father as she gazed upon the 
 innocent child, by imperceptible degrees, it 
 unconsciously Vv'on a place in a heart that 
 had seemed long closed against all human 
 affection. 
 
 As the young Ellen grew older, she was 
 the frequent companion of her grandmother's 
 solitude, and the partner of her rambles, 
 though t)n the other hand, often utterly for- 
 gotten by Lady Isabel, she was left for days 
 together, to sport at pleasure with her young 
 companions on the village green. And here 
 the little girl was ever the happiest and the 
 gayest ; for the love her grandmother bore 
 her, was not sufficiently strong to change
 
 88 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 her cold, stern manner, and at six years old, 
 Ellen daily feared her, more, and more. 
 It was with a sad heart the little creature 
 left her sport, to be the companion of her 
 walk, when the lady, on a bright, spring day, 
 wandered forth by the side of the mountain 
 stream. Nature, awakening from the long 
 slumber of winter, appeared all fresh and 
 sparkling, like the first hopes of youth, and 
 Lady Isabel, seating herself, on the moss 
 grown stump of an elm root, left the child 
 free to sport at her pleasure, with the 
 wild flowers and the white pebbles by the 
 water side. 
 
 To and fro Ellen ran with bursts of sweet 
 laughter ; a music that belongs to infancy, 
 and tells to aged hearts, the mystery of the 
 vanished paradise in which their young 
 souls once abode. The broken-hearted 
 mother heard it not unmoved ; she gazed 
 with fixed, sad eyes upon the sportive 
 creature, and there arose before her, as from 
 the tomb of the past, her own young Regi- 
 nald ; bright, joyous, and beautiful as a
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 89 
 
 cherub, radiant with hope, and innocence, 
 and love. 
 
 For the first time, she caught the little 
 girl in her arms, and kissed her ; then hold- 
 ing her at arm's length, she gazed wildly and 
 sadly upon her. Large tears chased each 
 other down her furrowed cheeks, till at 
 length, yielding to all the early softness of 
 her nature, she covered her face with her 
 hands, and wept as she had never done since 
 the sad day she bade her son farewell. 
 
 Her momentary vision of heaven had 
 vanished, and she felt, with redoubled agony, 
 that the past is irretrievable upon earth. 
 Yet the dream, as it passed, had, like a touch 
 of electricity, revived her palsied heart. 
 The apathy of despair which had long been 
 stealing over her, dissolved into a wild burst 
 of female tenderness. 
 
 The young Ellen, unconscious of the 
 agony she had excited, half in wonder, half 
 in terror, crept close to the lady's side to watch 
 her tears, till, at length, seeing one of her 
 village play-fellows, a boy about three years
 
 90 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 older than herself, gathering nuts on the 
 bank above, she crept away, and taking him 
 by the hand, with a whispered order to be 
 silent, she led him softly to the lady's 
 side. 
 
 The children understood nothing of the 
 sufferings they gazed upon, yet there is a 
 sublimity in an uncontrolled manifestation 
 of overwhelming passion, which awed even 
 their young hearts. 
 
 " Darkness, darkness, eternal darkness !" 
 murmured Lady Isabel at length, without 
 taking her hands from her face, and uncon- 
 scious of her childish listeners. " All gleams 
 of light on this side the grave, to me are 
 but delusions." 
 
 The little girl looked up in her com- 
 panion's face, as if to know if she might 
 laugh, but he kept her silent by a glance of 
 authority, and as the lady once more burst 
 into a violent passion of tears, he ventured, 
 though timidly, to bid her weep no more. 
 
 Startled by an address so unexpected, 
 startled yet more by the tone of voice in
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 91 
 
 which the words were pronounced, Lady 
 Isabel at once checked her grief, and turned 
 with inquiring eyes towards the speaker. 
 Was it an apparition that stood before her, 
 had her thought taken form and substance, 
 or the past given back its shadows, to people 
 the present with reality 1 or was that bright 
 and noble boy, with the wind playing amongst 
 the curls that clustered round his rosy cheeks, 
 and tears shadowing the lustre of his deep, 
 dark eyes, a mere creation of her own over- 
 wrought brain ? All these ideas, bordering 
 on insanity, flitted for a moment athwart 
 her mind, and then a wild hope, once fondly 
 cherished when other hopes had passed away, 
 darted through her heart. Grrisping the 
 boy convulsivelv by the arm, she demanded 
 his name, in almost inarticulate accents. 
 
 " Hubert Saville,'' he replied in the same 
 sweet voice, which had before so powerfully 
 excited her wonder ; and though the large, 
 black, piercing eyes of the Lady of the 
 Manor, the terror of all his young com- 
 panions, were fixed upon him with a search-
 
 92 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 
 
 ing glance, that might have dismayed many 
 an aged wight, his little heart was too full 
 of sympathy for her grief, to have any thought 
 of fear. 
 
 " Hubert Saville! that is no village name ! 
 Whence come you child V she demanded. 
 
 " I live with Father Ambrose the vicar," 
 was the boy's reply, and the accent in which 
 it was pronounced, left no doubt that he 
 had at least been educated in the north. 
 
 " Are you his scholar V inquired the lady. 
 
 "His scholar and his nephew," was the 
 answer. " Old Peggy was my nurse, but 
 now I learn latin, and Father Ambrose is 
 teaching me to be a priest," and he raised 
 his young blooming head, with the proud 
 consciousness, that he had already risen a 
 step on the ladder of honor. 
 
 " Thou a priest ! my poor boy !" returned 
 Lady Isabel, " but I must inquire further 
 into this. I will go with thee to Father 
 Ambrose," and taking the boy in one hand, 
 and her granddaughter in the other, she led 
 them in silence to the Vicarage.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 93 
 
 The little Ellen laughed and danced with 
 childish glee, often glancing, past her grand- 
 mother, at her favourite playfellow, Hubert ; 
 but for the first time, he heeded her not. 
 The eyes of the boy were fixed on the wildly 
 agitated countenance of his guide, who 
 seemed, as she glided on between these two 
 personifications of Hope and Love, like a 
 Sybil holding converse with unseen spirits. 
 Though the visions that passed before the 
 lady, were unknown to Hubert, though he 
 was even unconscious of the thoughts of his 
 own brain, yet the whole scene was an epoch 
 in the life of the chikVs mind. He saw and 
 felt things of which he had never before 
 dreamt, amidst the sunny fancies of his 
 boyish sports ; the sorrow he understood not, 
 the solemn grandeur of Lady Isabel's bear- 
 ing, which he could only dimly appreciate, 
 awakened, nevertheless, feelings of sympathy 
 and reverence in his young heart, and an 
 unconscious longing for unknown things, and 
 secrets of joy and wonder. 
 
 It is a moment of rapti!re — a pleasure of
 
 94 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 which the old forget to take account, when 
 as the folded leaves of the young bud first 
 feel the warmth of the sun, the heart of the 
 child first expands in the glow of those 
 etherial beams of feeling and intellect, which 
 passing from spirit to spirit, develop the 
 innate energy of his soul, awaken it to a 
 dim perception of the mysteries by which 
 it is surrounded, and excite hitherto un- 
 known sensations of curiosity, astonishment 
 and awe. 
 
 Lady Isabel turned from time to time 
 to gaze on her young companion with 
 looks of love, but she spoke not, till having 
 passed the vicar's garden, she found the 
 priest sitting in the shadow of his old stone 
 porch, reading a huge wooden bound MS. 
 of one of the Fathers. 
 
 " Good morrow, my worthy friend," she 
 said, startling the good man from his studies, 
 by her deep, sad voice, as she stopped sud- 
 denly before him, and pointed to the young 
 Hubert, " know you ought of that boy 1 Is 
 it true that he is a dweller beneath your
 
 THE WARD OF THE CHOWX. 95 
 
 " Most certainly, my Lady/^ answered the 
 vicar rising with respect. •* If you came 
 more into the village, you had probably 
 known this ere now, for it is eight years 
 since he was placed under my care/' 
 
 " Eight years !" she exclaimed. " May I 
 ask if his parents are living V 
 
 '' His mother was an unfortunate creature, 
 who perished at his birth," said the priest. 
 
 " And his father V demanded the lady, 
 with trembling lips. 
 
 " Could not acknowledge him as his child; 
 yet anxious to make all the reparation in 
 his power, for an act of youthful folly, 
 placed the boy with me, to give him a piou« 
 and virtuous education as a priest. 
 
 •' You know then, that his father lives V 
 was her eager demand ; but neither she, nor 
 the vicar remarked, with what an expression 
 of anxiety the boy fixed his eyes upon him, 
 as he replied, " Yes, he lives, but his name I 
 am bound to keep secret. The support he 
 affords his child, is given only on that con- 
 dition."
 
 96 THE WARD OF THE CROWJy. 
 
 Lady Isabel sighed deeply. The priest's 
 answers were not such as she had longed, 
 nay, almost trusted to hear. They were too 
 simple, too direct, to afford any foundation 
 for the wild hopes she desired to cherish, 
 and she sighed, that this first light which had 
 glimmered on her path for years, was thus so 
 soon extinguished. 
 
 "But if I have a father, why does he 
 never come to see me '? he does not love me, 
 that is plain — nobody loves poor Hubert," 
 said the boy, looking anxiously up in the 
 priest's face. 
 
 The touching tone of longing tenderness 
 in which these words were uttered, and the 
 mournful picture they pourtrayed, of the 
 loneliness of the deserted child, sank deep 
 into the heart of Lady Isabel. The 
 voice, was the same familiar voice, which 
 had before attracted her attention, and the 
 words recalled times of sorrow to her mind, 
 greater grief had failed to obliterate. " Poor 
 child," she murmured, as she laid her hand
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 97 
 
 upon his curled head, "so young and so 
 forlorn \" 
 
 " In truth, madam,'^ said Father Ambrose 
 gravely, " the boy has no cause to complain. 
 Old Peggy has been a careful nurse to him, 
 and he has never been treated with severity, 
 nor wanted for anything under my roof." And 
 the worthy man spoke the truth ; but Peggy, 
 though honest, was an old spinster, who had 
 fulfilled her duty, without the smallest touch 
 of motherly softness, of which in truth her 
 rough nature was incapable ; whilst the 
 priest himself, absorded in studies, thought 
 all was right, when the boy was healthy 
 and clean. By nature calm and placid, he 
 knew nothing of the deep longings for affec- 
 tion, in the heart of a child of ardent and 
 loving temperament ; of the silent gloom which 
 sometimes saddened his sports, when he saw 
 that all his young companions had parents, 
 or kindred, to cling to, save himself. 
 
 Lady Isabel, from her own sad experience, 
 at once comprehended the boy's secret sorrow, 
 when she heard his question to the priest, 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 D8 THE WARD OF THE CR.OWJf. 
 
 and from that moment her heart clung to 
 him with unspeakable affection. She felt 
 that there was a bond of sympathy between 
 the deserted child, and the bereaved mother. 
 The wizard's wand had touched the rock, and 
 a fresh spring of charity and love gushed 
 forth in that heart, where all had long been 
 frozen. Her hour of desolation was past — 
 she had found a new interest upon earth. 
 
 Ere she left the priest's dwelling, she 
 obtained his permission for the boy to visit 
 her in all his vacant hours. Hubert, rejoic- 
 ing in his new found friend, would gladly 
 have returned with her to her dwelling, had 
 not the vicar's commands compelled him to 
 wish her and his playmate, Ellen, an unwil- 
 ling farewell, and remain to resume his 
 interrupted lessons. 
 
 But scarcely had he finished his task on 
 the morrow, ere he was to be seen bounding 
 over the village green, and along the banks 
 of the stream, and across the heath-covered 
 hills, to the lonely dwelling of Lady Isabel. 
 In that dreary abode, which all others shun-
 
 fHE WARD OF THE CROWN. 99 
 
 Bed, there was an irresistible attraction to 
 him ; and day after day, during the long 
 summer, he trod the same path, and when 
 the autumn faded, and the snow covered the 
 hills, it was still the same. Often when 
 the old peasants saw his little footsteps, like 
 the track of a hare, upon the snow, they 
 crossed themselves, and with a dark look 
 towards the manor house, murmured some- 
 thing about witchcraft ; but old Hannah, 
 the lady's faithful servant, laughed at such 
 wild fancies, and was joyful to see that 
 her mistress was less wild and restless, and 
 would often sit peacefully for days together 
 by the cheerful fire, relating to Hubert the 
 legends of that land of war, and poetry, 
 and romance ; or instilling into his young 
 mind, those high lessons of religion and 
 morality, which the scholastic, verbal and 
 tedious instructions of Father Ambrose 
 failed to convey. 
 
 The happiness of the boy at these times 
 was complete. Every word his benefactress 
 uttered, opened to him new worlds of wonder 
 F 3
 
 100 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 and beauty. Her powerful imagination in- 
 fused a mysterious charm into all her narra- 
 tives ; and more than all, he felt that a 
 mother's love breathed in her every word ; 
 and the charm of female tenderness, pene- 
 trated to the very depths of his young heart, 
 and bound him to her with the devotion of 
 a son. Willingly would he have given his 
 life, at any moment, in defence of her, whom 
 all others feared ; and with a comprehension, 
 beyond his years, he soon learnt how much 
 she had need of his love. 
 
 He heard the sad story of her son from 
 old Hannah, and no longer wondering at the 
 fits of sad abstraction, which still, from time 
 to time, like a dark cloud, passed over her, 
 he strove with simple guile to divert her 
 thoughts as much as possible from the causes 
 of her sorrow. Her little grandchild, Ellen, 
 was still his favourite playmate, and he often 
 led her from her nurse to the manor house, 
 to share with him the lady's love, and hand 
 in hand the two children came with joyous 
 hearts to the old, dark dwelling, as to a fairy
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 101 
 
 palace, where none had permission to enter 
 save themselves. Like angel visitants, their 
 presence brought a blessing to the place 
 where they abided, and the Demon of Despair, 
 fled before the spirits of Innocence and Lov3, 
 and youthful joy. 
 
 When the spring came, and daisies and 
 buttercups bespangled the grassy knolls, 
 Lady Isabel often wandered with the chil- 
 dren for hours in the sunshine, amidst the 
 yellow flowering furze, recounting tales ot 
 the misfortunes of Henry the Sixth and his 
 son, till the heart of Hubert, excited by her 
 enthusiastic language, throbbed to avenge 
 their wrongs, and win for himself the name 
 and honors, his parents had so cruelly denied 
 him. It was this the lady loved to see ! It 
 was then she seemed again to behold her 
 young Reginald before her, with all his 
 bright aspirations for glory and chivalry ! 
 But when she remembered how they had all 
 faded, and dropped without fruit, into the 
 gravGof oblivion, she wept over the frailty of 
 human hopes ; and with a sad presentiment,
 
 102 THE WARD OF THE CROW]!?. 
 
 that such might likewise be the destiny of 
 the young creature before her, who yet un- 
 conscious of the blight that hovers over all 
 earthly desires, was still so strong and happy 
 in his ignorance. 
 
 The little Ellen, though she feared her 
 grandmother more than Hubert, loved her 
 not less, and won by her ready obedience to 
 her slightest wishes, Lady Isabel, in spite of 
 her anger towards Sir Hugh, became by de- 
 grees fondly attached to his gentle girl, till 
 at length she wrote to the Knight, who was 
 ever absent in court and camp, to request 
 that she might take Ellen from her village 
 nurse, and bring her up under her own 
 roof 
 
 This unexpected proposition was most ac- 
 ceptable to Sir Hugh, who once more involved 
 in difficulties by his extravagance, had ever 
 an eye on his mother's daily accumulating 
 wealth. His consent to her demand was 
 therefore quickly and joyfully given, with 
 the most agreeable anticipations of future 
 riches. Had he known of his mother's af-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 103 
 
 fection for Hubert, and the childish love 
 already existing between Ellen and her play- 
 fellow, he might perhaps have returned a 
 very different answer to Lady Isabel's pro- 
 position. 
 
 But if he was ignorant of what was passing 
 at the Manor House, there were others who 
 watched with pleasure, the calm, slow pro- 
 gress of events, which time and Providence 
 were bringing there to completion. Father 
 Christopher had not forgotten the child he 
 had confided to the care of Sir Hugh Colling- 
 wood. By the agency of the trusty miller, 
 he knew all that befel him, and contented, 
 for the time, with the education he received, 
 he left the Knight without question, or 
 remonstrance, to pursue the course he had 
 chosen. It was with great satisfaction he 
 heard of Lady Isabel's attachment to the 
 boy, and of the favourable effect apparently 
 produced on her mind, by this new object 
 of interest. Once or twice, when he secretly 
 visited the north, the miller renewed his 
 earnest instances for him to confide the secret
 
 104 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 of the child's birth to the Lady of the 
 manor, but on this point the confessor was 
 inexorable. The subject was of too vital 
 importance, he persisted, to be lightly dealt 
 with, and though her mind might have, in 
 some degree, recovered its tranquillity, he 
 dreaded lest any violent excitement, should 
 again deprive her of the command over her 
 passions and faculties, and rob her of the 
 exercise of the clear, calm judgment, so 
 necessary to direct her conduct, were she 
 made a confidante of his counsels. " Provi- 
 dence has its own times and ways," he added. 
 " All is now going on well, and let no im- 
 prudent act of ours, snap the chain of events, 
 on the tranquil progress of which, in all 
 probability, the future prosperity of the 
 boy depends. Be watchful and discreet — 
 give me timely notice of every change that 
 occurs, and, in time of need, I shall be 
 ever ready to act with promptitude and 
 decision. Meanwhile, let the fruit ripen 
 undisturbed. 
 
 Years thus passed away, the attachment
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 105 
 
 of Ladj Isabel to her young favourite became 
 gradually stronger and stronger, whilst the 
 devotion of Hubert to his benefactress, as- 
 sumed, with his ripening intelligence, a more 
 profound and earnest character, and the 
 gentle love, with which he had from infancy 
 regarded her granddaughter, Ellen Colling- 
 wood, deepened into a passion the most 
 ardent and intense. He forgot, in the bright 
 dreams this feeling excited in his heart, that 
 he was destined to take the priestly vows of 
 celibacy'; he forgot that Ellen was the heiress 
 of an old, distinguished and wealthy family, 
 whilst his own birth was involved in mystery ; 
 he forgot all but the fair, innocent being, 
 who like a flower had grown lovely and pure 
 by his side ; and yet, unconscious of the nature 
 of his feelings, he had no apprehension of the 
 trials and sufferings which might emanate from 
 their indulgence. Society, and its endless gra- 
 dations of rank and proud distinctions, were 
 still a mystery to him. Ellen and Lady Isabel 
 were his world ; he knew of no other, he 
 had never known another, and no doubts 
 F 5
 
 106 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 for long crossed his mind, that the love of 
 either could prove a source of sorrow and 
 misfortune. The passing hours were too 
 bright in their presence ; their society was 
 too necessary to his existence, for him to 
 imagine, for a moment, that such joy could 
 bear a future harvest of agony and despair. 
 
 The first blow which dispelled this de- 
 lusion, and clouded the bright sunshine of 
 his young heart, was the removal of Ellen, 
 at the age of sixteen, from her grand- 
 mother's dwelling. It was time, Sir Hugh 
 said, that her manners should be formed by a 
 court life; and his interest sufficed to place 
 her about the person of the Queen. In fact, 
 proud of her beauty, he indulged the most 
 ambitious hopes of her making a noble 
 alliance, and was deaf to all her entreaties, to 
 remain at the manor house, where she had 
 spent so many happy years. Lady Isabel 
 disdained to interfere in any of the affairs 
 of her son. And though sorry to part 
 with Ellen, she made no opposition to her 
 removal. The agony of the young people
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 107 
 
 at this separation, first taught them how 
 dear they were to each other, and whilst 
 the girl bore with her to the court a re- 
 membrance which its gaieties could not 
 obliterate from her heart, Hubert remained 
 to mourn, in solitude, over visions he had 
 at length learnt were too bright to be 
 realized. But his uncommunicated sorrow 
 strengthened and matured his mind, and 
 by daily commune with his own thoughts, 
 he acquired a force and energy of character, 
 that prepared him well to encounter the 
 more active troubles and trials of life.
 
 108 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Edward the Fourth died of a short illness, A.D. 
 1843, and after the murder of his two sons, 
 Edward the Fifth, and the young Duke of 
 York, in the Tower, their uncle, the Duke of 
 Gloucester, usurped the crown, with the title 
 of Richard the Third. 
 
 Though he endeavoured to secure his pos- 
 session of the sovereign power, by the sacri- 
 fice of his brother's family, the relations of 
 tl.e widowed Queen, Elizabeth Grey, and all 
 who appeared lifeely to dispute his usurped
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 109 
 
 authority, though the rebellion of the Duke 
 of Buckingham had been suppressed, and 
 that nobleman and many others brought to 
 the scaffold, a silent feeling of discontent was 
 well known to exist amongst the nobility ; 
 whilst the murmurs of the middle and lower 
 ranks were ominous of further changes. 
 
 The repeated demands made on the City 
 and the wealthiest of its inhabitants, by the 
 family of York, alarmed many prudent men, 
 and amongst others, Sir Hugh Collingwood. 
 
 No longer attracted by the gay pleasures 
 of a jovial court, he began to think it was 
 more for his interest, to return to his northern 
 estates, and keep an eye on his tenants and 
 retainers, than to incur the risk, in London, 
 of being forced a second time, to contribute 
 to a royal loan. 
 
 It was in the month of March, 1485, that 
 the domestics of Ellington Tower, received 
 orders to have all in readiness for the recep- 
 tion of their master, and the guests he pur- 
 posed to bring with him on the following 
 day.
 
 110 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 This news was far from welcome to Lady 
 Isabel. She dreaded a renewal of the same 
 painful scenes with her son, which had pre- 
 ceded his departure, being still resolved, to 
 withhold from him the objects of his cupi- 
 dity ; for she remained as uncertain as ever, 
 with regard to the fate of her first-born. She 
 dreaded that his presence would prove an 
 interruption to the peaceful tenour of her 
 association with Hubert, which, though not 
 actual happiness, more nearly resembled it, 
 than anything she had for many years expe- 
 rienced. She was not blind to the young 
 man's ardent attachment to her grand- 
 daughter, and dark presentiments came over 
 her mind, that the presence of Sir Hugh 
 would prove as fatal to Hubert's good fortune, 
 as it had formerly done to that of her son 
 Reginald. 
 
 On the young man himself, the intelli- 
 gence fell like a stroke of lightning. Et 
 was sitting in the Vicar's kitchen, putting 
 the last touches to a beautiful MS. he had 
 been ^paployed to copy for the monastery of
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. Ill 
 
 Alnwick, when the priest returned from the 
 village, and abruptly announced the expected 
 arrival of Sir Hugh Collingwood. 
 
 " I rejoice at it, Hubert, for your sake,'' 
 he added, " for I trust there will now, no 
 longer be any obstacle to your taking the 
 monk's frock. I have done my part towards 
 you faithfully ; you are not deficient in 
 learning, and as your future life is to be de- 
 voted to the church, it is time some further 
 steps were taken." 
 
 " And who hath the right to decide that 
 my future life is to be devoted to the 
 church, without consulting my inclinations ?' 
 demanded the youth, casting away his 
 pen, with burning cheek, and flashing eye. 
 
 " Those who have been at the expense of 
 your maintenance and instruction, from your 
 infancy," was the reply. 
 
 "And who are they?' was Hubert's 
 haughty inquiry. 
 
 " Your best friends, who have been un- 
 wearied in their endeavours to secure for
 
 112 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 you a virtuous and honorable education, and 
 position in life." 
 
 " Methought I was your nephew, and to 
 you alone my gratitude was due !" exclaimed 
 the young man with astonishment. 
 
 "But I am poor, and powerless," returned 
 the vicar, greatly embarrassed by this obser- 
 vation, "and had need of help to fulfil the 
 task I had undertaken. The servants of 
 the church lack the means to provide for 
 other men's children, and I tell you plainly, 
 you are more indebted to others than to me, 
 and to those whose slightest wishes it is your 
 duty to obey." 
 
 " But their names. Father Ambrose — 
 their names '?" was Hubert's impatient re- 
 joinder. 
 
 " A solemn promise of secrecy on that 
 score, seals my lips," said the vicar. 
 
 " If such be the case," replied the youth, 
 " to these unknown beings I can owe no obe- 
 dience ; nay more — were all this paltry 
 mystery at an end, and I stood face to faee 
 with these powerful, these generous protec-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJS. 113 
 
 tors, I would prove to them, that when they 
 thought to purchase dominion over a human 
 soul bj food, and clothing, and book learn- 
 ing, they lacked the means to make their 
 contract binding. For their food, and their 
 clothing, I thank them — for their book 
 learning — I accept it for as much as it is 
 worth, and have already paid for it threefold, 
 by the manuscripts I have copied at your 
 command ; but as for their monk's frock, I 
 reject it, with all their mysterious patronage, 
 for the present, and the future, if the price 
 of their favour be, that I forswear the world, 
 and consent to be buried for the remainder 
 of my existence in a cloister." 
 
 '' Young man," said the priest solemnly, 
 " mar not your fortunes by this headstrong 
 folly. I trusted the care I bestowed on your 
 education, would have brought forth better 
 fruit." 
 
 " You trusted that I should be a willing 
 slave, Father Ambrose ! Is it not so V an- 
 swered the youth bitterly. " But you have 
 deceived yourself ! I have long suspected I
 
 114 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 was not your nephew, and whoever my 
 parents may be, whatever great wrong they 
 may have done me, that they fear to meet 
 their offspring face to face, neither you, nor 
 they, have, by the mercy of heaven, had 
 power to rob me of a strong arm and an in- 
 dependent spirit ! No force on earth shall 
 compel me to become a priest." 
 
 " Then, young man, you must starve," 
 was the vicar's reply. " I will never main- 
 tain you in disobedience ; and from the 
 moment I announce this decision to your 
 patron, the pension he has hitherto paid me, 
 for your support, will be withdrawn." 
 
 " And I shall rejoice at it !" answered 
 Hubert, " for whilst I have health and 
 strength, I trust, by the mercy of Heaven, I 
 have no need of such a paltry pittance ! and 
 that I shall never be tempted to sell my 
 liberty, my life, my soul, for food and 
 raiment ! You seem to forget. Father Am- 
 brose, the sums you have been paid for the 
 manuscripts I have for the last five years had 
 some skill in copying. I can still pursue the
 
 J0 
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWy. 115 
 
 trade, and provide by mj own labour, for 
 mj own support !" 
 
 " Young man, it was to your patron you 
 were indebted for this employment," said the 
 priest solemnly ; " when you refuse to 
 become a monk, those for whom you have 
 hitherto worked, will cease to give you occu- 
 pation. You have yet to learn that strong 
 and independent as you may feel, you are 
 but a grain of sand on the face of the earth ! 
 No man has need of you ; you belong to no 
 man ; and when you refuse the friendly offers 
 of the sole being who takes an interest in 
 your welfare ; when you reject the place in 
 society to which by his bounty he would 
 kindly raise you, you must, without kindred, 
 or money, for ever remain a poor vagabond, 
 to be tossed about to and fro, at the mercy 
 of fortune, on the troubled ocean of life." 
 
 " And who is this noble friend, who 
 refuses, to an unoffending being, even the 
 knowledge of his birth — who robs him of 
 kindred, who denies him the birthright of the 
 meanest beggar, and then demands his honor
 
 % 
 116 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 and obedience — nay, even the sacrifice of 
 liberty, and all his hopes on earth, in return 
 for a paltry pittance he has unwillingly doled 
 out r 
 
 "It is well I am the only witness of this 
 insolent language !" said Father Ambrose. 
 
 " I would that he himself had heard it," 
 returned the youth. "The truth for once 
 had then reached his ears ! and in this 
 matter it is needless to temporise, for I 
 repeat, once for all, holy Father, that I will 
 die sooner than become a monk. If he who 
 has hitherto protected me, .will, after you 
 have informed him of my resolution, consent 
 to aid me to push my fortunes in the world, 
 I will await his pleasure ! if not, this inac- 
 tive life must quickly have an end, and I 
 must hasten hence to busier scenes, where 
 haply my poor strength may yet avail, in 
 defiance of your prognostications, to win me 
 an honourable livelihood, and the reputable 
 position in society, of which others have 
 denied me. He who depends entirely on 
 himself, has, methinks, powerful motives for
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 117 
 
 activity, which are wanting to the contented 
 child of luxury, on whom fortune smiles 
 from the moment of his birth ; and I feel 
 that such strong impulses insure their own 
 reward." 
 
 " Of your patron's approbation of such 
 wild schemes, I can give you small hope," 
 returned Father Ambrose. " He is a man 
 of the world, and knows full well, that youth 
 thinks all things possible, yet needs the 
 sober hand of age to guide its fiery paces 
 safely through life's dangerous paths, ^love- 
 over, he is a firm man, unused to opposition, 
 and who brooks it not — least of all from his 
 dependents." 
 
 " Just heaven ! and have I lived to hear 
 myself thus classed with grooms and 
 lacqueys !" exclaimed the indignant youth. 
 " This must be no longer endured 1 If 
 others owe me no regard, yet, whilst I live, I 
 will, at least, retain the right to respect my- 
 self. Father Ambrose, the die is cast ! the 
 bond which united us is broken ! I thank 
 you for the learning you have given me, I
 
 lis THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 •thank you for your nourishment, and the 
 kindness you have hitherto shown me ; and 
 I grieve that it is beyond my power, now at 
 least, to requite you for either ; but I swear 
 most solemnly, that had I known that each 
 and all were bestowed as wages for my 
 slavery, to crush me into base subjection, I 
 long ago had fled the vile contamination of 
 such degrading benefits, and sought my living 
 like the wild hare upon the mountain, rather 
 than continue to owe it to a bounty so 
 humiliating. But the time has now come, 
 and be it for honor, or be it for ruin, I cast 
 off these trammels. I will release you from 
 all further responsibility, and take the 
 charge of my own fortunes, under heaven's 
 blessing, henceforward on myself alone." 
 
 " There is no need for such precipitation, 
 young man," said his perplexed listener, " I 
 meant not to wound your feelings, and me- 
 thinks, I told you nothing new, when I said 
 that the needy are dependent on the great. 
 Take time to consider this matter maturely. 
 It is always too soon to mar your own for-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 119 
 
 tunes ; your patron may prove less obdurate 
 than I fear— some other path to honor, be- 
 sides the church, may be found. In truth, 
 your passionate language has taken me so 
 by surprise, I know not what to say — but 
 now Sir Hugh has arrived." 
 
 " Sir Hugh, Father Ambrose !" exclaimed 
 the young man, ^' by heaven, is it possible 
 that Sir Hugh has aught to do with this 
 mystery V 
 
 " Holy Mary, keep and protect me," mur- 
 mured the priest, crossing himself, " this boy 
 will drive me distracted. Sir Hugh, indeed ! 
 Learn humility, young man, for in truth it 
 seems you are sadly puffed up with pride 
 and pretension, when you fancy that a 
 wealthy and honorable knight, of King Ed- 
 ward the Fourth^s own bed-chamber, hath 
 ought to do with a poor, nameless youth like 
 you— save in the way of charity— which, had 
 you waited patiently, I was about to explain. 
 I would have said, I meant to beg for 
 you — " 
 
 " I thank you, sir ! but I neither desire,
 
 120 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 nor will accept the charity of Sir Hugh Col- 
 lingwood. If I have need of aid, his mother 
 is my friend." 
 
 " The poor, mad lady is like to prove a 
 most efficient friend, in good truth 1" was the 
 Vicar's sneering reply. " She has interest 
 at court, and can help an ambitious youth 
 to preferment ; she has a clear judgment, 
 and can counsel him discreetly ; she has 
 large experience, and can guide him in the 
 way he should go." 
 
 " Take heed. Father Ambrose, how you 
 speak lightly of the Lady Isabel," said Hu- 
 bert with a stern countenance, which more 
 than ever astonished the priest, who was as 
 utterly ignorant of the character of the 
 youth he had educated, as of that of an 
 infant on the village green. " I may feel 
 bound by duty to bear personal insults from 
 your lips with patience, but no man shall 
 say aught to the discredit of that noble lady 
 in my presence, with impunity." 
 
 " In the name of all the saints, what 
 makes thee so fiery and unreasonable this
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 121 
 
 morning V demanded the Vicar, " a word 
 spoken in jest can give no man nor woman 
 either, cause for offence ; and there is, me- 
 thinks, little need for you to defend the 
 honor of the Lady Isabel Collingwood in my 
 presence, who have been confessor to the 
 family for the last five and twenty years, 
 and knew and honored her before you were 
 born. A pretty story in truth, that I am 
 not to be permitted to speak a word this 
 morning, but you, a stripling, must call me 
 to account. Go, and con over your Greek 
 testament, it will profit you more than such 
 idle bickering/' 
 
 " Father Ambrose, I am no longer a child ; 
 my resolutions are not thus lightly to be 
 turned aside," returned the youth. " I pray 
 you to consider what I have said." 
 
 " As mere boyish folly, which you will 
 do well to forget as soon as possible," 
 said the priest, arising to leave the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 " This advice comes now too late, and 
 to-morrow," exclaimed Hubert following him 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE WARD OF THE CROWJf. 
 
 rapidly towards the inner room. But the 
 priest, anxious to end a discourse which 
 placed him in a position the most embar- 
 rassing, shut the door in his face, and turned 
 the key in the inside, flattering himself that 
 he had thus obtained sufficient time to con- 
 sult Sir Hugh as to the course necessary to 
 be pursued with a headstrong youth whom 
 he clearly perceived was far beyond his 
 management.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWI^, 123 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Indigjation was the predominant feeling of 
 Hubert, when he found himself thus left 
 alone in the middle of the Vicar's kitchen — 
 indignation, that what he considered his just 
 rights were thus spurned and treated with 
 disdain by the feeble priest, whom he involun- 
 tarily despised. But his anger was like a 
 spring tempest, brief, though violent ; and a 
 short time only elapsed, ere he smiled, in 
 turn, at his own weakness ; and then, with a 
 G 3
 
 124 THE WARP OF THE CROWK. 
 
 deep sigh, he turned and left the cottage. 
 He thought of the probability that Ellen 
 Collingwood might return with her father, at 
 the very time when a hard necessity com- 
 pelled him to depart, and this hope, which 
 had been his only consolation since her 
 departure, now drove him nearly to distrac- 
 tion. 
 
 What a countless train of thoughts passed 
 athwart his brain ! what a stinging percep- 
 tion of the agonies which the stern laws of 
 society can inflict upon its outcasts — what a 
 revelation of the boundless tyranny of pride 
 and wealth, and of the tortures the heartless 
 can inflict, for the first time burst, like evil 
 demons, amidst his fair young dreams ! The 
 spirit of evil — the tempter — the blighter — 
 the destroyer — stood for the first time pal- 
 pably amidst the flowers of his untrodden 
 Eden, and the blossoms withered and died in 
 his sight, and gloom and desolation spread 
 over the ruined Paradise ! 
 
 But the gloomy vision was brief ! he passed 
 with rapid step from the village, he ascended
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWy. 125 
 
 the broom covered hills, the clouds rushed 
 joyously along the clear blue heaven, the 
 fragrant breeze of the spring blew fresh on 
 his burning brow, like a living spirit, and the 
 darkness passed away from his soul, and he 
 saw only the form of Ellen smiling on him 
 through the floating mists of the future. 
 Scarcely conscious whither he went, in the 
 unusual agitation of his mind, though he 
 directed his way towards the Manor House, 
 his proud heart shrunk from disclosing the dif- 
 ficulty of his position to Lady Isabel. He 
 felt that to speak of his resolution, to depart 
 in search of fortune, was to demand her 
 bounty, and deeply grateful for all the sym- 
 pathy she had shewn him, for all the know- 
 ledge of the world her lessons had imparted 
 to him, he was resolved rather to commence 
 his travels penniless, than even by implica- 
 tion to seek pecuniary aid from her. Yet 
 he felt he needed the consolation of love ; 
 and by a natural instinct he turned towards 
 her dwelling. 
 
 He had proceeded more than half the way
 
 126 THE WARD OP THl CROWIT. 
 
 thither, and was passing along a steep pre- 
 cipice above the winding stream of the 
 valley, when he heard the approaching sound 
 of horses, and on turning hastily round a 
 projecting mass of rock, so as to quit a bye 
 path for the open road, he came suddenly 
 almost in front of a lady and gentleman 
 who, well mounted, were proceeding in the 
 same direction as himself. 
 
 He had scarcely time to see that the cava- 
 lier was a middle-sized, dark man, richly at- 
 tired in the fashion of the court, and that the 
 female who accompanied him wore a small, 
 black velvet mask, ere a favorite dog that 
 had followed him from the village sprang 
 from the copse, and commenced barking 
 furiously at the horse of the courtier. The 
 startled animal reared and backed towards 
 the edge of the precipice, at a point where 
 it was more than sixty feet high, so as at 
 the same time to force behind it, the steed 
 of the lady, to the very brink of the abyss. 
 Hubert saw at a glance that all her efforts to 
 govern the animal she rode were unavailing.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWlf. 127 
 
 whilst the horse of her companion pressed so 
 closely upon her as to prevent the possibility 
 of her escape, unaided, from her dangerous 
 position. He heard with agony a faint cry 
 burst from her lips, when the crumbling earth 
 gave way beneath the hind feet of her geld- 
 ing, and rushing towards her, at imminent 
 peril of his life, he seized and hung on it by 
 the bridle with one arm, whilst with the other 
 he struck the charger of the courtier repeat- 
 edly on the haunches with a willow wand he 
 carried, till it sprang forward a few paces, 
 and left the narrow road once more open. 
 
 Yet even then it seemed for a moment 
 doubtful whether the horse of the lady might 
 not lose its balance, and roll backwards with 
 its rider, in its wild efforts to recover its foot- 
 ing on solid ground ; but Hubert still re- 
 tained his presence of mind, and dragging it 
 forward with the whole strength of his power- 
 ful and athletic person, aided by his arm, 
 and cheered by his voice, it gave one more 
 desperate plunge, regained the middle of the
 
 128 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 
 
 road, and saved itself and its rider from 
 certain destruction. 
 
 To bring the animal as far as possible 
 from the edge of the precipice it had escaped, 
 Hubert, still holding its head, clambered up 
 on to the root of an old oak tree that over- 
 hung the road from the bank above, and the 
 lady, apparently trusting herself entirely to 
 his guidance and protection, made no eifort 
 to proceed further, but bending over the neck 
 of her horse, endeavoured to soothe its terrors 
 by her gentle caresses. 
 
 But Hubert observed her not ; his first 
 impulse, when he saw her in safety, was to 
 turn anxiously to ascertain the result of the 
 combat between the courtier and his fright- 
 ened charger. It was already at an end, and 
 the stranger fiercely saluted him with a 
 volley of maledictions and abuse, and riding 
 close up to the hanging bank, his whip was 
 in another moment raised, with loud threats 
 of vengeance, against the involuntary cause 
 of his danger.
 
 THE WARD OP THE CROWN. 129 
 
 The youth's quick eye no sooner marked 
 the movement, than springing up the rock 
 so as to be on a level with the upraised arm 
 of his assailant, he wrenched the weapon 
 from his grasp, and flung it with an ex- 
 clamation of disdain far over the precipice. 
 
 " The next time," he cried, " that you 
 dare to lift your whip against a free-born 
 Englishman, I advi-se you to take heed it 
 falls not on your own shoulders, as but for 
 my forbearance, it would now have done !" 
 
 " We shall meet again ere loag, I trust," 
 answered the stranger, " and then, by all the 
 saints, thou insolent varlet. thou shalt feel 
 it over thy shoulders, as sure as a thief at 
 Tyburn Y' 
 
 " Meanwhile you had better look for it 
 amongst the brambles," answered Hubert 
 with a laugh of inexpressible scorn, which 
 to his astonishment was echoed by the soft 
 musical voice of the lady, who still reined 
 in her horse, only a few paces distant, as if 
 awaiting her companion. 
 
 She was attired in a long, flowing riding 
 (i 5
 
 130 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 gown of claret coloured stuff, edged with 
 gold embroidery, which displayed her 
 slender, but beautifully modelled form, to the 
 utmost advantage. Her large, black velvet 
 hat was ornamented with a single white 
 feather, and she wore a pair of white, open 
 leathern gauntlets, so long as to cover nearly 
 half her arm. The easy grace with which 
 she held in the animal she rode, and above 
 all, the musical laugh which drew Hubert's 
 attention to this lovely apparition, rendered 
 the mask that concealed her features doubly 
 tantalising to his curiosity. 
 
 When the angry cavalier who escorted her 
 rode away, the lady, as if enjoying Hubert's 
 wonder, kissed her hand, and waved it 
 towards him, and then, perceiving that her 
 companion's back was towards them, as he 
 spurred his horse rapidly down the valley, 
 she for a moment withdrew the skreen from 
 her face. Great was the astonishment of 
 the youth, when the features of Ellen €ol- 
 lingwood were thus displayed to him ; those 
 features which had haunted him since her
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN, 131 
 
 departure by day and by night, sometimes 
 like a messenger of despair filling his soul 
 with sadness ; at others bright and sparkling 
 as he then saw them, telling of nothing but 
 hope and joy. Yes, it was Ellen! but 
 though the same, how changed ! how doubly 
 beautiful in the young perfection of woman- 
 hood ! 
 
 In defiance of her admonition he was on 
 the point of bursting into a wild expression of 
 rapture, when she checked him by lifting her 
 whip in playful menace ; then quickly re- 
 placing her mask, she urged her horse as 
 close as possible under the bank where he 
 stood, and said in a deep, clear voice, 
 
 " Remember for the future, when we meet 
 we must appear unknown to each other !" 
 then once more waving her hand, she put 
 her horse into a quick canter, and was lost 
 in the shadows of the wood, ere Hubert had 
 recovered from his surprise, or fully compre- 
 hended the meaning of her words. 
 
 For a moment he stood immoveable, 
 stunned by this brief adventure; then
 
 132 THE WARD OP THE CROWN. 
 
 catching flitting glimpses of her figure 
 through the scattered trees, he listened 
 eagerly for the dying sound of the horse's 
 steps, as they passed over the rocky ground. 
 
 " Lost !" he exclaimed, when all was once 
 more silent on the lonely hill. " I knew it 
 must be so. The rich, the high-born, the 
 lovely girl, once placed in the sunshine of 
 the court, must thenceforth be unknown to 
 the poor playfellow of her childhood ! must 
 float with brighter companions down the 
 current of life, and leave him friendless and 
 forgotten, to wither and rot like a worthless 
 weed in the shadow of the same dark nook 
 where his morn was passed," and a despair- 
 ing sense of his loneliness and his poverty, 
 pressed on him more heavily than it had 
 ever before done. 
 
 "Yet again," he thought, "if we are 
 henceforth to be for ever divided, why that 
 glance, why that laugh, as sweet and joyous 
 as of old V and in spite of his humility, 
 dreams of the past again soothed his mind,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 133 
 
 as with a beating heart he resumed his 
 course over the sunny hills. 
 
 Unwilling that his agitation should excite^ . 
 the penetrating observation of Lady Isabel, he 
 no longer proceeded directly towards the 
 Manor House, but taking a circuitous course, it 
 was near noon, when he descended by a narrow 
 path to the back of the dwelling. The old 
 dog that lay, half sleeping, in the little paved 
 court, took no note of his well known foot- 
 steps, and passing on without interrupti(5n 
 along the dark passage leading to the lady's 
 chamber, he entered it as usual, unannounced. 
 But no sooner had he crossed the threshold 
 than the scene he there beheld, at once ar- 
 rested his footsteps. 
 
 Lady Isabel sat even more stiff and erect 
 than usual, on her high backed chair ; not 
 a trace remaining on her rigid features, of 
 the tenderness and intellectual vivacity, 
 which, when in Hubert's company, commonly 
 illumined her sad aspect, like a gleam of 
 sunshine falling athwart a dark cloud. Im- 
 mediately opposite to her, stood a tall and
 
 134 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 very stout man, apparently between forty 
 and fifty years of age. He was richly, though 
 carelessly dressed ; his hair and beard some- 
 what between red and flaxen ; and though it 
 was evident his features and person had 
 once been handsome, a long devotion to the 
 pleasures of the table, had rendered them, 
 both, fat and bloated. His large, blue eyes 
 were heavy and lustreless ; and his counten- 
 ance was strongly expressive of selfishness 
 and apathy to the feelings of others, with an 
 inordinate devotion to sensual pleasures. 
 
 The contrast this stranger presented to 
 Lady Isabel, with her thin features and the 
 dark circle round her hollow eyes, was as that 
 of matter to mind ! Yet there was a resem- 
 blance between them ! It was scarcely 
 possible to say where, or what was the like- 
 ness, yet few who knew them both, could 
 fail to remark it; and the high, narrow head, 
 and compressed lips of the gentleman, be- 
 tokened that he possessed no small portion 
 of the matron's firmness of character. A 
 momentary glance sufficed for Hubert justly
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 135 
 
 to conclude, that Sir Hugh Collingwood stood 
 before him. 
 
 With her back towards the strong, clear 
 light of the uncurtained window, sat Ellen, 
 and leaning against the corner of a recess 
 close beside her, with his audacious gaze 
 fixed intently on her face, stood the cavalier, 
 who had recently been the companion of her 
 ride. 
 
 Although more than five and forty years 
 of age, he was still decidedly handsome. 
 Not a grey hair mingled in his black locks 
 or carefully fashioned beard ; and his well 
 formed figure was set ofi" to the utmost advan- 
 tage, by a careful attention to the mysteries 
 of dress. Yet in spite of the advantages he 
 had received from nature, the efi'ect of his 
 person altogether was not pleasing, although 
 he usually found means to ingratiate himself 
 with women, and wus the favourite of the 
 King, and several of the noblest men of 
 his time. 
 
 Hubert still held the open door in his 
 hand, doubtful whether he should enter or
 
 136 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 retire, when his eyes met those of the 
 stranger, and he instantly resolved to show 
 no symptoms of shrinking before his enemy. 
 The blood of wrath mounted to the face of 
 the courtier, his dark eyes flashed fire, and 
 he was about to give utterance to an angry 
 exclamation, when, remembering that he was 
 ignorant of the youth's real character and 
 position, with the cunning which was a part 
 of his character, he checked the manifesta- 
 tion of his feelings, and turned with an 
 enquiring glance towards Sir Hugh, as if to 
 take from him, a measure for his conduct. 
 
 If the apparition of the unknown youth 
 in the house of the secluded lady of the 
 manor, had surprised him, he was yet far 
 more astonished to behold the agitation of 
 the Knight, as he gazed upon the intruder, 
 though without returning his courteous salu- 
 tation, of which he appeared to be uncon- 
 scious. Pale and red by turns ; if he liad 
 gazed upon a spectre, he could scarcely have 
 seemed more appalled ; and his voice trem- 
 bled, when turning, at length, towards his
 
 THE WARD OP THE CROWN. 137 
 
 mother, he demanded in hurried accents, the 
 name of her guest. 
 
 " By our Ladj, Sir Hugh, it is clear you 
 see the likeness, or you would not be thus 
 agitated !" was her abrupt reply. 
 
 " Likeness, madam ! What likeness V he 
 demanded. " I have no talent for such dis- 
 coveries, but fain would know who is the 
 audacious youth, who dares thus to intrude 
 into the circle of your family, unsummoned, 
 and unannounced," 
 
 " His name, in default of a better, is Hu- 
 bert Savillo. You start, sir !" continued the 
 lady, with her eagle eyes fixed upon her 
 son's countenance, " you know that name 
 perchance." 
 
 "I knew it once," he murmured with 
 confusion, 
 
 " Where '? When V eagerly demanded his 
 mother. 
 
 " In the Lancastrian ranks ! it was that 
 of a gallant knight, who fell in the battle 
 of Hexham ; but he died unmarried," he
 
 138 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 added bitterly, " so this youth can be no 
 descendant of his." 
 
 " And you know nothing more '?" 
 
 " Absolutely nothing 1 But allow me in 
 turn to enquire, how my lady mother has 
 made this new, and apparently intimate 
 acquaintance V 
 
 *' I knew not that I was responsible to my 
 son, on such a score," she haughtily replied, 
 " but as there is no mystery in this affair, as 
 far as I am concerned," (and she laid a strong 
 accent on the last words) " I will tell him, 
 that this youth was placed for his education 
 with the confessor of our family, Father 
 Ambrose, nearly two and twenty years ago, 
 and until he is claimed by nearer relatives, 
 I consider him my adopted son." 
 
 " Ah, then I can no longer marvel at his 
 presumptuous audacity," softly murmured 
 the dark cavalier. 
 
 " I know not what your words imply, or to 
 what you allude. Master Carlton !" returned 
 the lady haughtily. "I was not before 
 aware, that my protection sufficed to ren-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 139 
 
 der any man presumptuous, or audacious, 
 and I have yet had no reason to consider 
 Saville either the one, or the other." 
 
 "Perhaps, madam, the judgment of a 
 man may differ from yours, on such points," 
 replied the courtier, with the utmost suavity 
 " but when we recently met in the woods 
 — pardon me — this is no story for a lady's 
 ear — I have already said too much." 
 
 " I agree with you, if you mean to say 
 no more," she answered haughtily, " for the 
 sarcasm which implies an unproved slander, 
 is tenfold more malignant than any direct 
 accusation, which can at once he contra- 
 dicted, or established. Hubert, know you 
 to what Master Carlton alludes '?" 
 
 "If this gentleman has any explanation 
 to demand from me," returned the youth, 
 who had hitherto, with difficulty, maintained 
 silence, " if he seeks an honorable amend 
 for any insult, he appears to think I have 
 offered him, I am perfectly ready to give 
 him all the satisfaction he can demand, 
 but not in your presence. Though no
 
 140 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 courtier, I am at least aware that a lady*s 
 chamber is not a place for a man to re- 
 sent or renew his personal disputes." 
 
 " I am ever sorry to differ from Lady 
 Isabel in opinion," said the cavalier, who 
 after listening to these words with his eyes 
 fixed on the ground, now turned towards 
 his hostess with sneering tranquillity, " but 
 I trust this youth's own words have now 
 afforded her sufiicient proof, that my epithet 
 of presumptuous audacity was not misap- 
 plied. If she knew the whole transaction, 
 of which it appears he has not the grace 
 to be ashamed " 
 
 " He has no cause for shame — and you 
 know as well as I, that but for his prompt 
 courage, I should not now be a living 
 witness, to disprove your false accusations !" 
 exclaimed Ellen, who, though she had hitherto 
 listened to the conversation with burning 
 cheeks, and downcast eyes, as if she had no 
 acquaintance with the intruder, now started 
 from her seat, and stood with proud and 
 disdainful mien in front of him she ad-
 
 THE WARD OF THE OROWX. 141 
 
 dressed. " You may forget, but I cannot, 
 that I was this morning indebted to him 
 for mj life, when your unruly charger must 
 have forced mine over the brink of the 
 precipice, had not he, fearlessly exposing 
 himself to danger the most imminent, seized 
 the head of my horse and saved me from 
 death. You may forget, but I cannot, that 
 I witnessed the noble gratitude with which 
 you raised your whip to give him thanks — 
 that he ^vrenched it like a straw from your 
 grasp I allow ; but surely you have little 
 reason to complain of his audacity, when he 
 made no better use of it, than to fling it 
 far from him amongst the brambles." 
 
 " I should have thought Master Carlton 
 would have rather chosen to forget, than to 
 publish such a misadventure," said Lady 
 Isabel looking up in his face, with a quiet, 
 sarcastic glance, as her grand-daughter ceased 
 speaking. 
 
 " Those who calculate on Richard Carl- 
 ton's forgetfulness, may one day chance to 
 find themselves most bitterly mistaken," was
 
 142 THE WARD OP THE CROWK. 
 
 his reply, " Lady Isabel you cannot be sur- 
 prised, when I tell you, that either your 
 adopted son, or I must quit this chamber." 
 
 " I am not aware that there is any con- 
 straint put upon your movements. Sir," 
 answered his hostess coldly. " Hubert stand, 
 nearer the window and give the gentleman 
 room to pass.'^ 
 
 Master Carlton, though a subtle and 
 practised courtier, was not prepared for 
 such a reply, and his annoyance was evident. 
 He felt that he had himself provoked it, 
 and for a few moments was doubtful how 
 to disembarrass himself from the awkward- 
 ness of his position. 
 
 For a brief space there was a profound 
 silence in the chamber. Sir Hugh, who 
 had been highly amused by the scene, well 
 aware that he could gain nothing by any 
 open opposition to his mother, intentionally 
 forbore to take any part in the dispute. 
 Hubert, to avoid all further altercation in 
 such a place, would himself at once have 
 withdrawn ; but a commanding look, and a
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 143 
 
 sign from Ladj Isabel for him to remain, ren- 
 dered this impossible, and his own heart re- 
 joiced, at being thus saved from the humilia- 
 tion of appearing, in Ellen's presence, to 
 shrink before his insolent enemy. He could 
 have fallen at her feet with gratitude for her 
 brave defence, yet he had the firmness to 
 remember her warning ; and by no glance, 
 or word, betrayed that she was more to 
 him than a stranger. 
 
 The maiden on the other hand, laughed 
 openly a joyous laugh, when she saw Master 
 Carlton's mortification, and anticipated with 
 delight the spectacle of his solitary de- 
 parture ; whilst her father, who secretly 
 enjoyed his friend's humiliation, turned 
 gaily towards her, and said, " As it ap- 
 peared Lady Isabel was tired of their 
 company, it would be better to mount 
 their horses and ride back to the Tower." 
 
 " A wise and courteous decision, to save 
 the honor of your gallant visiter," said his 
 mother with a bitter smile. " Farewell, good 
 Ellen," she added, holding out her hands
 
 144 THE WARD OF THE CROWlS^ 
 
 towards her grand-daughter. " I rejoice to 
 see that thou hast come back from London, 
 as brave and true as thou went thither, 
 which is more than every man can say. If 
 you are not afraid of a strange old woman, 
 remember my door is open to you at all 
 times. For Master Carlton it is open at 
 present, but as he has found society here not 
 much to his taste, I have a shrewd suspicion, 
 he is not likely to enter it for the future. 
 Farewell, most gallant gentleman. I imagine 
 our love is even less than our acquaintance. 
 Sir Hugh — comfort your friend — I shall not 
 lack your company whilst you are doing him 
 the honors of the north, in your father's old 
 Burgundy — only — mark me — it might be 
 better bestowed !" and she laughed with 
 quiet sarcasm, as silently saluting her, her 
 gueats left the chamber. 
 
 Hubert alone remained, his thoughts in 
 strange confusion ; his heart beating more 
 pi;oudly and happily than it had done for 
 many months before. 
 
 " Pah ! this scented air of the court is
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJ^. 145 
 
 stifling," cried the lady turning towards him, 
 as soon as they were left alone. " Open 
 that window, Hubert, and let me breathe, 
 whilst I can, the air of nature. To-day thou 
 hast shown a spirit that I admire ! thou hast 
 proved that thou art a man to be respected ; 
 and I trust, to judge by the paltry shuffling 
 of that miserable courtier, a man to be 
 feared. Alone as thou art, thou wilt have 
 many such trials to bear from the petty 
 pride of those things of custom, who measure 
 a man's worth by his lands, or his escut- 
 cheon ! But patience, patience, my son — 
 they are but headless arrows, when we are 
 armed by the remembrance that honours 
 cannot be lightly won, and that the rewards 
 of heaven, are for sufferings meekly borne." 
 
 " A brief forbearance may at times be a 
 duty. Madam," returned the youth, " but 
 insults must be met as they deserve, lest 
 what you call patience, others might call 
 cowardice." 
 
 " Hubert !" exclaimed the lady gazing for 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE WARD OF THE CR0W5. 
 
 a moment searchingly on the tranquil, yet 
 firm, and noble demeanour of her companion. 
 " This language hath more of the camp than 
 the convent ! Are these the lessons of Father 
 Ambrose V 
 
 " They are the dictates of my heart," he re- 
 plied, " and I tell you frankly, the lessons of 
 Father Ambrose are not to my taste." 
 
 " Yet you are destined to wear the frock of 
 a monk 1 
 
 " By others, perchance, Madam, but not 
 by myself ; and as the unknown personages, 
 who presume to dictate to my inclination, 
 have given me no reason to respect their 
 authority, I feel I am fully justified in as- 
 serting my independence, and choosing that 
 course of life for myself, to which I feel my 
 nature most inclined." 
 
 " Know your protectors aught of this re- 
 solve V 
 
 " I have spoken openly to Father Am- 
 brose, and probably only a few days remain, 
 till I shall ask your blessing, ere I ven-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 147 
 
 ture amidst the agitated current of ex- 
 istence." 
 
 " And you shall have it, my son, when- 
 ever you are ready to depart,'' she answered, 
 "but still I pray you, tarry here a few 
 weeks longer. The kingdom is again on the 
 eve of a fearful convulsion. King Richard 
 the Third is universally mistrusted and de- 
 tested. Henry Tudor, Earl of Eichmond, 
 descended from John of Gaunt by his mother, 
 the only daughter of John, first Duke of 
 Somerset, has declared himself a new pre- 
 tender to the throne, and has for many 
 months been preparing forces on the Conti- 
 nent to invade the kingdom. The Hiilure 
 and execution of the Duke of Buckingham, 
 for a while retarded his attempt, but I have 
 reason to know his efforts are renewed with 
 redoubled vigour, aided by the secret intri- 
 gues ef his mother, the Countess of Rich- 
 mond, now married to Lord Stanley. Henry 
 is a sincere Lancastrian, and should he drive 
 the bloody son of York from his ill-begotten 
 H 3
 
 148 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 throne, the old friends of the Red Rose will 
 be again triumphant, and I may have means 
 to advance your fortunes, which now I cannot 
 hope for. Four members of my family have 
 died on the battle field for Lancaster — and 
 one more dear than all — but let that pass. 
 Should you find it necessary to leave the 
 dwelling of the vicar, come hither, my son, 
 and I will ever give you a mother's welcome. 
 But mark me — on one condition." 
 
 " Name it, dear lady 1" said the youth. 
 " That you leave Carlton's insolence un- 
 punished !" 
 
 " But I pray you reflect, Madam." 
 " I have reflected, and my reflections are 
 more calm than thine ; moreover, I know 
 much of which thou art ignorant, and I 
 charge thee, Hubert, by thy value for my 
 protection, by thy value for my love — leave 
 that minion unmolested, to writhe under the 
 mortification I this morning inflicted on 
 him.' 
 
 " But should he call on me for satisfac- 
 tion r
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 149 
 
 " Promise me to wait till then, I ask no 
 more/' was the lady's reply. 
 
 " Had his blow fallen, it must have been 
 otherwise,'' said Hubert, " but as it is your 
 desire, I will now wait until I am sum- 
 moned. Tell me, Madam, I pray you, who 
 is this favored guest of Sir Hugh, who seems 
 to assume, as by right, the place of a brother, 
 at his daughter's side V 
 
 " Or of a lover," she returned with a smile : 
 " nay start not, Hubert, I may be wrong in 
 such a fancy ; but this I know is fact, that 
 in default of male heir, in our branch of the 
 family, he inherits all the lands of Sir Hugh, 
 held as a male fief from the crown." 
 
 "Yet as he does not bear the name of 
 Collingwood, he can only be related to the 
 family by the female line 1" 
 
 " Nut so. His grand-father was the uncle 
 of my husband, but changed his name for 
 certain lands at Rothbury, where now the 
 family resides. Though Master Carlton's 
 patrimony is small, he has noble relatives by
 
 150 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 the mother's side, and by their interest, and 
 his own cunning, he has reaped a rich harvest 
 from the troubles of the times. He had an 
 office at court under Edward the Fourth — he 
 is the favourite secretary of Richard the 
 Third, and it has been whispered that he 
 bore a dark part in poor George Clarence's 
 death, and other more recent transactions, 
 into which no man dares to pry too narrowly. 
 He must have weighty business in hand, to 
 quit the court at a crisis so important." 
 
 " Perchance he is weary of waiting for the 
 lands of Sir Hugh," said Hubert with trem- 
 bling lips, " and seeks to obtain possession, 
 by a marriage with his daughter, of the large 
 property she inherits in right of her mother." 
 
 " It may be so," returned the lady. " Her 
 father has no right to touch a shilling of her 
 fortune, but he may cancel the debts the 
 world says he owes Master Carlton, by aiding 
 his suit wi<th his unsuspecting daughter. It 
 is not however unlikely that he has come 
 hither to levy troops, either for the court, or
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 151 
 
 the invader, as best suits his purpose ; for he 
 well knows there are men ever ready to take 
 arms amongst the wild moss-troopers of 
 Redesdale, and the Upper Tjne. These 
 northern men formerly fought as good soldiers 
 under Hilliard, whom they called Robin of 
 Redesdale, but since his death, no man has 
 more power amongst them than Marston 
 Conyers, the cousin of the brave Sir John 
 Conyers, who in his first battle took Sir 
 Richard Woodville, the Queen's father,prisoner, 
 and sent him to the block. Implicated by 
 his relative, he lives an outlaw without hope 
 of pardon, and all men know him for a gallant 
 soldier." 
 
 " It is little likely then that he will have 
 anything to do with a Yorkish courtier like 
 Master Carlton," said Hubert simply. 
 
 " There is no saying under what pretences 
 he may seek to gain adherents," answered 
 Lady Isabel ; " only I warn you, Hubert, if 
 you are resolved to take up arms, to be care- 
 ful under whose banner you enlist."
 
 152 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " I swear to draw my sword for none but 
 Henry, Earl of Richmond," cried the youth 
 eagerly. 
 
 " You do well ! but take heed you are not 
 deceived ; and wait patiently till I tell you 
 the hour is come. I know more, my son, 
 than even you suspect, and by heaven's 
 favour you shall not lack friends to push 
 your fortunes ! But enough of this, for the 
 present. Come to me to-morrow, when I 
 shall perhaps be able to tell you more ; and 
 now, on your way back to the village, I pray 
 you take this packet to old Andrew, the 
 miller. He knows how to dispose of it. I 
 must have gone myself, had I not found so 
 trusty a messenger ; but it is as well I should 
 not incur the risk of being tracked to his 
 dwelling." 
 
 " I am ready to obey your commands at 
 all times," answered Hubert, as he received 
 the small packet the lady gave him, without 
 testifying the surprise he felt at receiving 
 such a commission. 
 
 The entrance of the old servant, who at
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 153 
 
 length ventured to remind her lady that the 
 hour was long past for her mid-day meal, 
 here put an end to further discourse, and 
 Hubert, taking a hasty farewell, left the 
 Manor House and turned his steps towards 
 the valley of the mill. 
 
 h5
 
 154 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 The path of Hubert laj near the edge of 
 the moors, which, fragrant with the flowers 
 of spring, spread far and wide to the 
 mountains of the Cheviot. All the myste- 
 ries of turnips, and barley, and long wooUed 
 sheep, and short woolled sheep, were then 
 unknown in those wild districts, and the 
 grouse, and the deer, and the hare, were 
 left in undisturbed possession of the trackless 
 deserts, save when the bugle of the hunts- 
 man called the peasant to follow his Lord
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 155 
 
 over the mountains to the chase, or the fierce 
 clamour of border warfare, broke the silence 
 of the solitude, and the green turf was djed 
 with the blood of the slain. There had the 
 Percy and the Douglas won their fame ; there 
 had the Scottish King been made prisoner ; 
 and there the savage pleasures of the chase 
 had often ended in yet more savage battles. 
 But that day all was peaceful on the 
 flowery hills, and the hare lay as quiet 
 amidst the long grass, and the deer in the 
 fern, as if neither wars nor hunting had ever 
 interrupted the tranquillity of nature. The 
 heart of Hubert was too young to feel for 
 long the weight of sadness, and bounded 
 once more with delight, when the fresh 
 breeze blew around him. Though uncertain 
 as to his destiny, with the ardour of youth, 
 he looked forward, with sanguine hope, to 
 the unknown future. The announcement of 
 his determination never to become a priest, 
 had relieved him from one subject for anxi- 
 ety ; and the busy adventures of the day, 
 so different from the ordinary tranquil cur-
 
 156 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 rent of his existence, filled his mind with 
 ^aiew feelings, and new ideas. He felt as if 
 he had awakened to a second life, and even 
 the remembrance of Ellen came less sadlj 
 before him. He trusted he had won her 
 respect, and that whatever others might 
 think of him, she, at least, for the future, 
 would not think him incapable of gaining, 
 bj his own endeavours, an honourable rank, 
 she need not blush to share. 
 
 It is thus that activity ever revives the 
 energy of the soul, and the very struggle 
 with difiiculties, gives strength to conquer 
 them. 
 
 For two and twenty years, Andrew, the 
 miller, had not failed to keep a Avatchful eye 
 upon Hubert, and had often ' attracted him 
 to his humble dwelling by his merry tales 
 and ballads. The old man had taught him 
 the angler's craft, and the swordsman's art, 
 and as age gradually robbed him of his 
 strength, the youth often came in the early 
 morning to aid him in the culture of his 
 iittle garden, or to bring in firewood from
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 157 
 
 the forest. Andrew loved him as if he had 
 been his own son, but his welcome was 
 even more than usually joyous, when he 
 found him sitting that afternoon on the sunny 
 bench before his door. 
 
 "Ah, Master Hubert," he cried the mo- 
 ment he beheld his visiter crossing the 
 stream towards him, " right glad I am to see 
 you. I have been to the village to seek 
 you — I have climbed the Hunter's knoll to 
 look out, but I could see nothing of you, 
 high, or low ; and I was just resting myself a 
 quarter of an hour before I started for the 
 ]\Ianor House. I have something to tell you, 
 I promise you !" 
 
 " And what may be this wonderful news, 
 that you have taken such trouble to carry ?" 
 returned the youth with a smile. "Have 
 you seen a pike in the old mill stream, or 
 has an otter made its appearance amongst the 
 rushes T 
 
 " You are merry, young gentleman," said 
 Andrew with a cunning nod, '^ but 1 warrant 
 my tidings are no such common matter.
 
 158 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 What would you say if I had a letter from a 
 fair young lady to deliver to you V 
 
 " A letter, and from a lady ! impossible I 
 I know no ladies !" he exclaimed. 
 
 " What, Master Hubert ! surely you know 
 one young lady, and a very fair young lady 
 moreover." 
 
 " Ellen Collingwood r 
 
 " Ay, to be sure, and a proud man you 
 may be, for this morning her maiden, Peggy, 
 the same she took with her to London, 
 came running down here, like a partridge 
 over the new stubble, with a precious paper, 
 she said, her mistress wished you to have 
 with all despatch. Ah, poor Mistress Ellen ! 
 doubtless there are many troubles and trials 
 come upon her, since she sat there with you 
 before the door, playing with the pebbles by 
 the edge of the stream ! But she has not 
 forgotten her playfellow it seems, nor old 
 Andrew neither, heaven bless her \" 
 
 " But the letter — I pray you give me the 
 letter !" demanded Hubert impatiently. 
 
 " I have hid it in the house, till I started
 
 THE WAKD OF THE CKOWN. 159 
 
 again/' said the old man, " but follow me, 
 and you shall have it directly." 
 
 So saying, he arose, and entered the 
 cottage, followed by his guest, whose impa- 
 tience knew no bounds, till the miller, after 
 poking about for some minutes in a dark 
 cupboard, placed the precious packet in his 
 hands. He eagerly tore it open — it con- 
 tained only two lines, but the initials E. C. 
 were at the bottom, and his joy was immo- 
 derate when he perused these words — " 'Sleet 
 me to-night at nine o'clock by Bertram's 
 well, on the banks of the Willy burn. I 
 have not forgotten the past, and am un- 
 changed, although I dare not seem so. 
 E. C." 
 
 In the first burst of delight, Hubert un- 
 (!onsciously read alotfd, and he was first made 
 aware that he had betrayed Ellen's confi- 
 dence, when raising his eyes from the paper, 
 he beheld the countenance of the miller, 
 illumined by a most joyous and triumphant 
 expression.
 
 160 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " Andrew, what have I said ! what have 
 you heard V he eagerly exclaimed. 
 
 " Nothing, that I will betray,'' he answered 
 solemnly, " you may trust Andrew with your 
 life ! But hush. Master Hubert, surely I 
 heard some one stirring in the old mill 
 within ! It must be some one from the 
 hills, or they would never come through that 
 way.'' 
 
 "Yes truly, there are heavy steps," re- 
 plied the young man, " but ere they enter, 
 Andrew, take this packet. Lady Isabel sent 
 me to deliver to you. I had nearly forgotten 
 it." 
 
 " Quick ! quick !" cried the miller hastily 
 seizing it, and he had scarcely time to con- 
 ceal it in the folds of his tattered garments, 
 when an old door, in a corner near the 
 chimney, was thrown open, and a most un- 
 expected apparition appeared upon its 
 threshold. 
 
 The broad, yellow beam of the declining 
 sun, that shot through the narrow casement,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 161 
 
 fell direct upon the tall, athletic figure of a 
 stranger, whilst all behind him in the half 
 ruined building lay in darkness and mystery, 
 so as to render yet more striking his re- 
 markable person and costume. 
 
 His broad shoulders and powerful limbs 
 were of the most noble proportions ; and 
 though his brown beard, and the locks that 
 still curled thickly around his high forehead, 
 were tinged with grey, and the wrinkles of 
 fifty years had furrowed his once smooth, 
 fair skin, yet his strength appeared undi- 
 minished ; his commanding person, unbent by 
 time, or labour, and his clear, cheerful, blue 
 eyes, were as bright and sparkling as if not 
 more than twenty summers had passed above 
 his head. His whole countenance had the 
 frank and benevolent expression of a warm 
 hearted and generous soldier, and quickly 
 dispelled the first fears of Hubert, though 
 even a moment^s survey sufiiced to convince 
 him that no common man stood before him, 
 but one long used to enjoy and exercise 
 command.
 
 162 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 The dress of this unexpected visiter, was 
 not less remarkable than his person, and 
 heightened, bj its wildness, the picturesque 
 grandeur of his appearance, and the dignity 
 of his noble and somewhat haughty carriage. 
 His coarse, blue gown, that fitted up closely 
 to his finely formed throat, was made of the 
 common woollen cloth, spun by the northern 
 women ; his long hose were of the same 
 material, his boots of a bullock's hide, most 
 rudely tanned, with the black hair still re- 
 maining on the wide tops, which were turned 
 over nearly to the ankle, so as fully to dis- 
 play his handsome legs ; around his waist 
 he wore, bound as a sash, one of the small, 
 checked woollen plaids of the country, and 
 from its folds protruded the handle of a heavy 
 battle axe, that few save himself could wield. 
 A short sword hung under his left arm, and 
 a couple of stout knives were in his girdle. 
 On his head he wore a low cap of the wild 
 marten's fur, and a white sheep skin was 
 suspended from his shoulders, to be by turns 
 his mantle, and by turns his bed.
 
 I'HE WAED OF THE CROWX. 163 
 
 The tranquillity with which the miller 
 received this martial personage, at once con- 
 vinced Hubert, that he came thither as a 
 friend. 
 
 " ]\Iarston Conyers/"' said Andrew, hastily 
 arising. 
 
 " Nay, call me Mat o' the Tower, like 
 other honest folk," said the stranger, with 
 a good humoured laugh, " I have almost 
 forgotten to answer to the name of ^larston 
 Conyers, it is so long since I consorted with 
 court gentles. But who have you here, 
 Andrew '? something more noble than a 
 cheviot herdsman, methinks." 
 
 " I thought perchance you might have 
 known him,'^ answered the miller, with a 
 keen glance at the stranger, which did not 
 escape the observation of the youth. " At 
 all events, you must have heard of Master 
 Hubert Saville, in the village." 
 
 " By my faith, a gallant fellow," mur- 
 mured Conyers, as if speaking his thoughts 
 aloud, as he surveyed the young man, " if 
 his heart be equal to that fair exterior, he
 
 164 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 will do honor to a noble name ! yet what is 
 a name ? men live as happily without one ; 
 and others of proud descent, and an exterior 
 of which he seems now the counterpart, 
 have, in youth's brightest days, lost all, and 
 as dust to dust returned. Ah ! Andrew, 
 even to women and babes who took no part 
 in these wars, what profitted their nobility '? 
 no more than a steel buckler against a 
 thunder bolt. It served only to draw down 
 the deadly fire upon their heads, which 
 struck them to the ground. Those were 
 wild times, young man, of which you can 
 know little, but Andrew and I stood often 
 side by side, on the battle field ; we saw the 
 blood of friends and enemies flow equally 
 from the scaflbld ; we saw the harvests laid 
 waste in their plenty ; we saw the dwellings 
 of the rich and the poor making wild bon- 
 fires to the frozen winter ; we saw the deli- 
 cate daughters of the court begging their 
 bread with their houseless orphans hanging 
 at their breast — but enough — enough. We 
 have beheld our best friends perish by the
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWDS'. 165 
 
 sword, or the axe, and yet we are here to 
 teU the tale ; and we have been merry since 
 then too, if the truth must be told, as merry 
 as many an honest boor that never heard 
 the twang of a cross-bow. I think some- 
 times we must have flinty hearts." 
 
 " And in good sooth you have cause to be 
 merry \" said Andrew, smiling. " You are 
 more honoured by all the men of Redesdale, 
 than any captain, except Billiard, that ever 
 yet led them to a foray, or a battle ; you 
 are strong and healthy, lead a gallant life 
 full of adventure and change, you are 
 obliged to follow no man's banner save at 
 your own pleasure, and then you have a com- 
 panion, Master Conyers !" 
 
 " Enough ! enough !" exclaimed the sol- 
 dier, hastily. " We shall tire this youth 
 with our old world stories, and it behoves us 
 more to be thinking of the present. I hear 
 that Sir Hugh Collingwood has arrived with 
 his fair daughter. Is the story true V 
 
 " I saw them, not two hours ago," replied 
 Hubert. " They came from the Tower to
 
 166 THE WARD OF THE CROWS'. 
 
 pay their respects to Lady Isabel, at the 
 Manor House." 
 
 " Or perhaps to look after her jewels," re- 
 turned the soldier, with a laugh that echoed 
 through the rafters of the old building. 
 " Ah, she is a brave old dame, that Lady 
 Isabel. But tell me, is there not a certain 
 Richard Carlton of Rothbury, or Black Dick, 
 as the country people call him, on a visit to 
 Sir Hugh r 
 
 " Yes, I met him this morning in the 
 woods, and he came afterwards to the Manor 
 House r 
 
 " And did he dare to put a foot into the 
 same chamber with Lady Isabel ?' demanded 
 the miller eagerly. " In truth, though I gave 
 him credit for audacity, I did not think him 
 capable of that 1" 
 
 " Has such a great man reason to fear 
 her '?" inquired Hubert. 
 
 " It seems he fears neither man, woman, 
 nor devil, when there is no danger," said 
 the trooper, " and yet were he brought to 
 the scaffold, we should see him play the 
 coward, or I am mistaken. But do you
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 167 
 
 know, young man, for what purpose he went 
 to the manor T 
 
 " I know nothing, but that having this 
 morning unwittingly offended him, he 
 diarged me most rudely in the lady's pre- 
 sence ; and she answered his complaint in 
 such sharp language, that Sir Hugh was 
 was obliged to retire with all speed, to spare 
 his friend from being compelled to make a 
 most dishonorable retreat." 
 
 " And you were the cause of his being 
 thus severely treated T 
 
 " Most certainly ! Yet without any malice 
 on my part, for I knew him not." 
 
 " No matter ; the effect is all the same. 
 Take heed to your own safety, young man, 
 for you have given deadly offence to one 
 who knows not how to forgive. There is 
 already some mischief at work, or he had not 
 come from the court at such a crisis, in the 
 train of Sir Hugh, whom he has made his 
 slave by his loans. There is neither buck 
 nor bird to be found in the hills at this 
 season ; and I suspect he is looking after
 
 168 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 oibher game ! We hear that Henry of Rich- 
 mond is in arms again — and both he and 
 the King have ere now had need of the men 
 of Redesdale, and paid them well. Which 
 ever party is likely to prosper, Carlton is 
 ready to serve/' 
 
 '' But no man will know that till the last 
 minute," said the miller. 
 
 '' He is a cunning politician, where there is 
 anything to be gained," replied Conyers, " but 
 mark me, young man, I know you not, but 
 your appearance has something that pleases 
 me, and I should be sorry to see you that 
 scoundrel's victim ; therefore, mark my words, 
 I pray you, and be on your guard against 
 him ; if he professes to pardon you, and 
 seeks to enlist you under his banner, trust 
 none of his promises ; and if Sir Hugh still 
 tries to tempt you to become a Churchman, 
 reject his offers, as you would shun the 
 pest !" 
 
 " You talk strangely !" cried the youth. 
 
 " I sometimes see more than meets the 
 eye, and hear more than comes to the ears
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX, 169 
 
 of common men," answered the soldier, with 
 his usual careless laugh, "and moreover, I 
 have a shrewd guess jou are not much in- 
 clined to Holy Orders, my brave youth/^ 
 
 " I have refused to enter the Church," was 
 the reply. 
 
 " Ah ha ! thou hast done bravely ! but 
 when did this fall out V 
 
 " This morning. When Father Ambrose 
 heard of Sir Hugh's arrival, he openly re- 
 joiced at it, as if the Knight had an interest 
 in procuring my entrance into a cloister ; 
 surprised at his manner, I told him plainly, 
 that no force upon earth should compel me 
 to take the oaths of a priest." 
 
 " And what other path is it your intention 
 to pursue V demanded the soldier. 
 
 " That to which my friend Lady Isabel, by 
 God^s blessing, shall direct me." returned 
 Hubert firmly and tranquilly. "I am 
 young, strong, and not ill taught, and I 
 doubt not, there are many honorable ways, 
 by which even a poor man can carve out his 
 fortune, either by his pen, or his sword. I 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 have no fears, for I rely not on myself, but 
 on Providence." 
 
 " Yet Providence may sometimes please 
 to place your destiny in your own hands, 
 young man ; and believe me, success only 
 attends on those, who at such moments prove 
 themselves capable of profitting by the bounty 
 of Heaven. If not a priest, is it likely you 
 will turn soldier ; and again let me warn you, 
 sooner to die than enlist imder Carlton's 
 banner." 
 
 " I thank you," returned Hubert, every 
 moment more and more surprised by the 
 noble language of the stranger. "If you 
 had witnessed the events of this morning, 
 you would feel no mistrust on that score. 
 If he had murdered my own father, I could 
 not regard him with more instinctive aver- 
 sion." 
 
 Hubert was astonished when he ceased 
 speaking, to behold the effect his conclud- 
 ing words had produced on the miller ; for 
 a moment, as the last rays of the declin- 
 ing sun streamed bright on his face, he saw
 
 THE WAPwD OF THE CROWN. 171 
 
 that the glance of gay good humour had left 
 his eyes, and that they were fixed on him 
 with an expression of grief and horror ; his 
 clasped hands were pressed convulsively to- 
 gether, and a slight tremour of the head 
 betrayed his internal agitation. In another 
 moment the sun was gone, and there was a 
 profound silence in the dark hovel. 
 
 "Can this old man know ought of my 
 parentage V was the thought that flashed 
 like lightning through the brain of Hubert, 
 but ere he could give it utterance, Andrew 
 recovered his composure, and turning with a 
 laugh to Conyers, told him he had an excel- 
 lent cup of ale in his cellar. "The last 
 barrel your yeoman brought me, still runs 
 strong, and I have a good deer's ham in the 
 cupboard that lacks eating." 
 
 " Forth with them, my good fellow," re- 
 turned the soldier, " for a ride over the hills 
 has given me a lusty appetite." 
 
 This desire was speedily complied with by 
 the miller, and as Hubert had tasted nothing 
 since morning, he did not refuse to partake 
 I 3
 
 172 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 of the coarse, but plentiful provision, that 
 ere long covered the humble board. 
 
 He was anxious to know more of Marston 
 Conyers, the celebrated outlaw, of whom, for 
 years, he had heard many a wild and mar- 
 vellous tale, without having the slightest 
 suspicion of his intimacy with his old ac- 
 quaintance, Andrew. All he saw and heard 
 of this remarkable man, during the ensuing 
 hour, only tended to increase his wonder 
 and admiration. 
 
 His discourse was, by turns, merry and 
 severe ; now sparkling with wit and 
 gay allusions — now grave and sublime, and 
 proving not only that he was possessed of 
 an elevated and cultivated mind, but that 
 at an earlier period of his life he had been 
 habituated to society of the very highest 
 order. 
 
 The discourse was chiefly confined to 
 discussions on the state of the kingdom, and 
 the public disturbances likely to be appre- 
 hended ; yet, ever and anon, some word fell 
 from the miller, or his guest, which proved
 
 THE WAPwD OP THE CROWN. 173 
 
 their long acquaintance and mutual know- 
 ledge of Lady Isabel's and Sir Hugh Col- 
 lingwood's afiairs. 
 
 The varied and fascinating discourse of 
 Conjers, which, without a shadow of con- 
 straint or premeditation, appeared to reflect 
 the versatile mind of the speaker, seemed at 
 length to have entirely banished the re- 
 membrance of all care or sorrow from the 
 whole party in the hut, when their mirth 
 was suddenly interrupted by a knocking at 
 the same door by which the soldier had 
 previously entered, and which, unperceived 
 by Hubert, he had secured behind him. 
 
 The silence this summons instantly oc- 
 casioned, was followed by a soft, low, sweet 
 whistle, like the last notes of the nightingale 
 when the night melts into the dawn, to 
 which Hubert was astonished to hear the 
 outlaw immediately reply, by a similar 
 sound, though sharper and less musical. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! my little bird is there !" he 
 cried, " I marvel what weighty afiair hath 
 made her spread her wings so quickly after
 
 174 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 me V and he arose ere the miller could 
 leave his seat, and proceeded to unbar the 
 door. 
 
 If Hubert had previously been astonished 
 by the appearance of Conyers, when he 
 issued from the ruined mill, he was ten 
 times more so, when he beheld the figure 
 which, following the outlaw, as he returned 
 to his seat, seemed to arise like an apparition 
 from the earth, into the broad light of the 
 miller's faggot fire, and rather to belong to 
 the race of fairies, with which the peasants 
 there believe their mountains peopled, than 
 to be a creature of ordinary flesh and blood, 
 an inhabitant of the warlike and lawless 
 valley, where was the home of Conyers. 
 
 It wore the short tunic and hose of a boy, 
 made of the same coarse, blue stuff as that 
 of the outlaw, and carried a cap of mole- 
 skin, in a hand so small, so delicate, so fair, 
 that it seemed to belong to one born to be 
 ever decked in silks and velvets. The hair, 
 as black as the raven's wing, was parted 
 from the smooth, white forehead, and fell
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 175 
 
 over the shoulders in waving masses, leaving 
 uncovered the small transparent ear, and a 
 portion of a throat, as white as alabaster. 
 The beauty of the face was most remarkable, 
 and of a description so peculiar, so wild, so sad, 
 and yet so sweet and full of soul, that once 
 seen, it was never to be forgotten by any, 
 but those of most dull and unfeeling 
 nature. 
 
 Perfect in form, it was thin, and so pale, 
 that the blue veins could distinctly be seen 
 through the soft, rich, ivory skin. The 
 finely chiselled nose was slightly aquiline, 
 and beneath the soft curled lips, shone forth 
 two rows of brilliant teeth, white as the 
 blossom of the thorn ; the large, melting, 
 black eyes, with their sable fringes, were like- 
 two visions, full of change and mystery, 
 where it seemed as if the secrets of the 
 past and the future lay half hidden in their 
 beauty, and that the soul there spoke a lan- 
 guage to which no voice had ever given 
 utterance. 
 
 Hard must have been the heart which
 
 176 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 could resist the gaze of those imploring eyes, 
 which ever seemed to demand pity for the 
 mute suffering of an aching heart. 
 
 The small and rounded figure was of most 
 light and delicate proportions, and the fairy 
 feet and hands were, alone, sufficient to 
 convince Hubert that the garments of a boy 
 concealed a female form. 
 
 The moss-trooper, as if feeling that se- 
 crecy there was needless, at once addressed 
 this lovely being by her name ; and blushes 
 flitted like sunbeams over her pale face, 
 and her eyes rested with the softest ex- 
 pression of trust and tenderness on the sol- 
 dier's face, as he said, " Marion, what brings 
 thee hither, my good girl, so swift upon my 
 footsteps V 
 
 " A letter. Master Conyers," she returned 
 in a voice most musical and soft. " An 
 hour after you had left the Grange, a 
 mounted messenger arrived at fullest speed. 
 He demanded a private interview with you 
 and when he heard that you had ridden 
 forth, he declared that he must follow you.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 177 
 
 ' He wa:: charged/ he said, ' with letters 
 of most pressing import, that would not 
 brook delay/ Your groom brought him to 
 my chamber, and when he found I knew 
 your secret signs, and responded to his 
 question, ' are the fish caught V by the 
 quick answer, that we only waited till the 
 lines were baited, he begged that I would 
 take charge of these letters and deliver them 
 with all despatch," and as she spoke, she held 
 forth to the outlaw, a folded paper, bound 
 with silken threads and fastened by an enor- 
 mous seal of black wax. 
 
 " Ah ! ha 1" he exclaimed, as he eagerly 
 received it, " the fruit is ripening fast, it 
 seems. But surely, my brave Marion, thou 
 didst not come alone, over the wild 
 moors V 
 
 " No, master," she timidly replied, " for 
 though I once before had ridden here with 
 you, the snow was on the ground, and all is 
 now so different, that I feared I might miss 
 the way, and so lose precious time. I there- 
 fore brought old Adam Bell, on his shaggy
 
 178 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 pony, to serve me as a guide, as far as the 
 head of the valley ; but that he might not 
 know your hiding-place, I left him with the 
 horses in the wood, near an old stone quarry, 
 whilst I came hither alone/' 
 
 " Thou art worth twenty men-at-arms, 
 my precious Marion," said the outlaw, lift- 
 ing his eyes from the paper he was eagerly 
 perusing, and gazing for a moment on the 
 object of his commendation with an ex- 
 pression of tenderness, his features were 
 rarely seen to assume. " But art thou not 
 weary with thy long gallop over the hills 1 
 Wilt thou not eat T 
 
 " I feel no fatigue, now I have found 
 thee," she said with blushing grace, and 
 tears glittered on her dark eye-lashes. " I 
 am more weary of sitting alone in the old 
 Grange, when thou art away." 
 
 " I must speak with you alone, Marion," 
 said Conyers, suddenly arising, after a brief 
 silence, during which the maiden had seated 
 herself on a chair opposite to him, and 
 crossing her arms upon the table, continued,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 175 
 
 as if unconscious of the presence of others, 
 to gaze, with the most profound interest, 
 upon his agitated countenance, as his eyes 
 glanced with anxiety from line to line of the 
 jscroll he held. 
 
 Hubert, the moment he heard these words, 
 likewise instantly arose ; for though deeply 
 interested in the passing scene, and the 
 new characters to which chance had thus 
 strangely introduced him, he had not for- 
 gotten Ellen's request, that he should meet 
 her at nine o'clock ; and as the sun had now 
 long been set, he felt he must lose no 
 time in proceeding to the place of appoint- 
 ment. 
 
 He was anxious, likewise, to leave Conyers 
 and his fair messenger at liberty to discuss 
 the important affairs which were evidently 
 in agitation between them ; and although 
 his curiosity was excited to the highest 
 pitch, by all he had seen and heard, aware 
 that he had no right to intrude longer un- 
 bidden on their privacy, he determined at 
 once to depart.
 
 180 THE WARD OF THE CROWK". 
 
 " Excuse me, Master Conyers," he said 
 with a graceful courtesy, which, for the first 
 time, drew the eyes of the maiden upon him, 
 " it is my part, not yours, to leave this 
 dwelling. I perceive there are no secrets 
 between you and our friend Andrew, and I 
 have pressing business calls me hence, 
 which will admit of no further delay. I will 
 now therefore wish you farewell, and I beg 
 you to believe, I am sincerely grateful for the 
 interest you have so kindly expressed in one 
 unknown to you as I am." 
 
 " Then you will not forget my warning," 
 said the soldier, accepting the proffered hand 
 of Hubert, and returning its pressure with a 
 hearty shake. " I find, by my letters, there 
 is more than ever need you should be on 
 your guard against that subtle courtier ! But 
 like yourself I have no time to lose, so, now 
 farewell ! we shall meet again ere long, I 
 have little doubt, and nrny learn to know 
 each other better, before we rest in a church- 
 yard." 
 
 Hubert, perceiving that no answer was ex-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 181 
 
 pected to these hurried words, cast a parting 
 glance at the miller, bowed low to the dis- 
 guised maiden, who was gazing at him with 
 evident curiosity, and then once more salut- 
 ing the outlaw, passed from the low, front 
 door of the cottage into the dewy moonlight. 
 Though his heart beat high with hope and 
 joy, as he hurried towards the place of meet- 
 ing appointed by Ellen, yet again and again 
 the image of the mysterious maiden, and of 
 Marston Conyer.s, the renowned outlaw of 
 Redesdale, passed like spectres before him. 
 They had left an impression on his mind, 
 like that of a vivid dream, which we com- 
 prehend not, and yet feel, as it haunts our 
 memory, that whilst it seems dimly to reveal 
 to us the secrets of the past, it bears a mys- 
 terious and eventful connexion with our 
 future destiny.
 
 182 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Elli'N Oollingwood was endowed with one 
 of those rare characters, which unite, to high 
 talents and natural gaiety, the utmost sim- 
 plicity, purity, and generosity of soul. Ut- 
 terly without vanity, she treasured the praise 
 of those she valued, only as a proof of their 
 love ; and when once firmly assured that the 
 course she had chosen to pursue was right, 
 she heeded no more the opinions of common 
 men, than the idle patter of the rain against
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 183 
 
 her casement. Young as she was, she had 
 a profound contempt for all things mean 
 and false, and an ardent admiration for the 
 nobility of nature, which many men fail to 
 recognise, except when clothed with the 
 nobility of birth. She had spent her child- 
 hood, and her youth, amongst the wild 
 scenery of the hills, and she loved the beauty 
 of nature, as those only love it, who see in 
 it, a shadow of yet more perfect things, to 
 which the soul, even on earth, aspires with 
 ever increasing hope and adoration, the 
 nearer it beholds the abyss of the grave. 
 She had no sympathy with those who 
 worship the pomps and vanities of life. She 
 understood not the false value which men of 
 society set on worthless things. Taken sud- 
 denly from the wilds of the north, and placed 
 in the centre of a court, she soon learnt to 
 despise the paltry passions, which there most 
 commonly excite the activity even of the 
 greatest intellects ; and when she beheld the 
 personal rivalry for place and petty power,
 
 184 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 which men honor by the name oi ambition, 
 the mean avarice, the pride, hypocrisy, and 
 miserable lust of praise, with which the 
 courtiers around her, wilfully embittered 
 their existence, her thoughts dwelt with 
 pleasure on the noble character and un- 
 sophisticated nature of her early companion, 
 Hubert Saville. 
 
 When far apart, and amidst splendid 
 scenes, which might have seemed the most 
 likely to banish him from her remembrance, 
 she first learnt fully to appreciate his virtues, 
 and his pre-eminence in all those qualities 
 she esteemed the highest. 
 
 When trials, she little expected, came 
 thick upon her, it was from Hubert alone 
 she hoped for aid, and the love which had 
 scarcely blossomed when they parted, ripened, 
 during their long separation, into a passion 
 the most trusting and devoted. She knew 
 that Hubert was poor and friendless, yet 
 when persecuted, and alone amidst the busy 
 throngs of London, this knowledge did not
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWlf. 185 
 
 diminish her trust in the conviction, that he, 
 and he alone, was destined to protect, and 
 save her from an impending danger, even 
 more terrible to her than death ; such was 
 her firm reliance on the strength of his 
 character, his simple, straight-forward hon- 
 esty, activity, and intensity of purpose. 
 
 It was the idea of again beholding him, 
 which had made her accompany her father 
 to the north with a joyous heart, even in the 
 detested company of Master Carlton ; and it 
 was that hope which brought the merry laugh 
 again on her lips, and the roses on her 
 cheeks, when she once more felt the breezes 
 of her native Cheviot blow fresh upon her 
 brow. 
 
 Speedily convinced by the answers she 
 received to her inquiries, that the character of 
 Hubert had remained unchanged during her 
 absence, she lost no time in making an effort 
 to renew their former intercourse. At the 
 dawn of the first morning after her arrival 
 at the Tower, she wrote the hurried lines 
 which Hubert received from the miller, but
 
 186 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 unfortunately the honesty of her waiting- 
 maid, Peggy Brewis, to whose care she con- 
 fided her letter for delivery, was little to be 
 relied on. 
 
 Ellen had no suspicion that the contagion 
 of London example, and London flattery, 
 and London gold, had rendered the pretty 
 village belle, utterly unworthy of her confi- 
 dence. She knew not, that she was the 
 hired tool of her worst enemy, and that, 
 whilst with insidious art she gained her 
 favour, she was paid as a spy, to report to 
 Master Carlton her every word and action. 
 
 With many promises of diligence and 
 secrecy in the execution of her mistress's 
 wishes, this artful creature received the 
 letter for Hubert, and a quarter of an hour 
 later, she was standing beside the writing 
 table of Carlton, who was deliberately perus- 
 ing its contents. 
 
 With the most easy assurance she surveyed 
 him from head to foot, whilst his attention 
 was thus engaged. The light fell from the 
 high gothic window full upon his handsome
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 187 
 
 person, loosely attired in a furred, morning 
 gown of green velvet, and his piercing, black 
 eyes, well curled beard, and delicately white 
 hand, adorned by a richly set sapphire ring, 
 filled the waiting-maid with admiration. 
 Nevertheless, she failed not shortly to re- 
 mark, that a small mirror hung directly 
 behind him, nor was she less satisfied by the 
 occasional contemplation of her own pretty 
 person reflected therein, though much against 
 her will, disguised in a close, linen cap, and 
 russet gown. 
 
 " Yes, you are a lovely creature, by my 
 soul you are," cried Master Carlton, looking 
 up suddenly, when she was lost in pleasing 
 contemplation of herself, '' the court cava- 
 liers may praise the mistress's beauty if 
 they please, but, on mine honour, the maid is 
 ten times more to my taste ! But tell me, 
 my sweet ^eggj, do you know the fellow to 
 whom this letter is addressed V 
 
 " Know him ! yes to be sure, as well as 
 the cross, in the village market-place I" she 
 pertly replied.
 
 188 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " He is young, no doubt V 
 
 " Somewhere about twenty — more, or 
 less." 
 
 " And handsome V 
 
 " That may be as people please to con- 
 sider him. He is tall, and straight, and 
 well favoured, but — not to my taste." 
 
 " So much the better," said the Secretary, 
 with a malicious smile. " Is he rich, or 
 poor V 
 
 " As poor as a moor-hen, after a six weeks' 
 frost." 
 
 " Is he well born 1" 
 
 " No man knows, but there are people 
 who do say, he is Sir Hugh's own son, though 
 born without the ceremony of marriage, and 
 that makes me so scrupulous about carrying 
 Mistress Ellen's love letters. You under- 
 stand me, Master Carlton 1" 
 
 " Oh, yes perfectly ! I have heard of this 
 youth before now. His name, if I mistake 
 not, is Hubert Saville 1" 
 
 " The same. He has dwelt with the 
 vicar, next door to my mother, since he was
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIT. 189 
 
 a babe, and nobody knows how he came 
 there, but it is certain he was some misborn 
 brat, for he was ever so set up with pride, 
 that he could not deign to speak a civil 
 word to any honest maiden in the village. 
 Nothing would serve him, but Mistress Col- 
 lingwood forsooth !" 
 
 " Then he had no smiles for Peggy Brewis, 
 it seems V 
 
 " I scorn his impertinence," she replied' 
 with a saucy toss of the head, " but we all 
 know it is the mad, old lady at the ^Manor 
 House, has turned his brain with her flat- 
 tery." 
 
 " Ha, does Lady Isabel know anything of 
 this youth V inquired the courtier. 
 
 " He has half lived under her roof, since 
 he was eight years old, and if any ill comes 
 of this love between him and ]\Iistress Ellen, 
 Sir Hugh will have nobody but his mother 
 to thank for it, for she had them there 
 always together, till the summons came for 
 the young lady to join her father in London. 
 If Sir Hugh expects to inherit her savings,
 
 190 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 or to marry his daughter nobly, he had bet- 
 ter keep a sharper look out, than he has 
 done for some time past, or Lady Isabel may 
 chance to find a husband for the one, and 
 an heir for the other, when he little expects 
 either." 
 
 " Bravo, Peggy ! you are an admirable 
 politician !" said the gentleman, with a bland 
 and encouraging smile, which just suflBced 
 to show his white and even teeth between 
 his dark and delicately formed mustachios. 
 " So the lady of the Manor has savings, her 
 neighbours say V 
 
 " Thousands upon thousands of angels, 
 and crowns," returned Peggy. " Moreover 
 everybody knows she keeps all the family 
 jewels from Sir Hugh, to which he was 
 lawful heir at his brother's death." 
 
 " Ay, at his brother's death \" murmured 
 Master Carlton, between his teeth. " That 
 must have been long ago ! Has no one any 
 suspicion where these jewels are hid V 
 
 " No one exactly knows," returned the 
 waiting-maid with a mysterious nod, " but
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 191 
 
 as you and I are friends, Master Carlton, I 
 will tell you something, which till this 
 moment never passed my lips/' 
 
 " You surely must be convinced, by the 
 confidence I place in you, that you may trust 
 me in all things," said the subtle courtier, 
 taking Peggy's hand with a smile she was 
 utterly unable to resist. 
 
 " I would have told you all before now," 
 she replied, " but I knew not, you cared to 
 hear such tales. My father has now been 
 dead ten years — " 
 
 " And what, by all the saints, has your 
 father to do with Lady IsabeFs jewels V 
 hastily demanded her impatient listener. 
 
 " My father was a mason," she answered, 
 " a soft, simple creature, as I have heard my 
 mother say, and he could keep no secrets 
 from her." 
 
 " But what has this to do with the trea- 
 sure V again demanded the gentleman, 
 
 *^' Listen patiently and you will soon learn," 
 was Peggy's response. " It was a cold day in 
 winter, my father had had no work for a month,
 
 192 TflE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 and we children had all been sent supperless 
 to bed, whilst my mother sat crouching over 
 a few smoking sticks lamenting their misery. 
 I heard him say at length, when he thought 
 we all slept. ' This is sad work Molly ! I 
 wish the Holy Virgin would send me such 
 another job as I had this time ten years, up 
 at the Manor House, in that terrible hard 
 winter, when there was not a stroke of work 
 to be done for the frost, for three months 
 together. It saved us all from starving,' 
 * And what might that be Peter V answered 
 my mother. ' I was sworn to secrecy,' he 
 returned, ' but it is so long ago, I may e'en 
 tell thee, if thou wilt promise never to 
 breathe a word of it to living man.' To 
 this she readily agreed, ' Well then,' he 
 continued, " it was just to make a hole under 
 ground, for the old dame to put her treasure 
 in, and a precious heavy box she has, I can 
 tell you ! since we have been so poor, it 
 haunts me day and night, as if the Evil one 
 sought to put temptation in my way, to 
 make sure of me, body and soul !' I remem-
 
 The ward of the crown. IDS 
 
 ber his words as if it were but yesterday/' 
 continued Peggy, " for they made the flesh 
 creep on my bones," * And could you find 
 the treasure, Peter, do you think V demanded 
 my mother, who seemed to have less fear of 
 the tempter before her eyes. ' I should be a 
 fool if I could not, when I made the hiding 
 hole myself, under the great parlour,' he 
 returned, 'yes, it is just under a cracked 
 board in the north-west corner, and I some* 
 times think that when the lady and her 
 housekeeper are both asleep, nobody would 
 be the wiser if I were to creep in through the 
 dairy window, and just help myself to half a 
 dozen gold pieces to keep us all from starving. 
 But then, I think, I see the old one grinning 
 over my shoulder, and I lose heart.' ' But 
 when you get work you could put it back 
 again, Peter !' said my mother. ' But the 
 dogs Molly, you forget the dogs,' he re- 
 turned " 
 
 " This is curious," said Master Carlton, 
 more deeply interested in the maiden's nar- 
 
 VOL. L K
 
 194 THE WARD OF THE CROWI^. 
 
 rative, than he chose to confess. " And did 
 your father take courage at last V 
 
 " I know not \" returned the girl. " It was 
 a thaw the next day, and he had plenty of 
 work, till he died the following autumn." 
 
 " And your mother kept the secret V 
 
 " I believe she did so, faithfully ; but she 
 died before my father." 
 
 " No doubt she knew right well her hus- 
 band had swallowed a cup too much, and 
 paid no attention to such nonsense," said 
 the Secretary. 
 
 " Oh, Sir ! but Lady Isabel's treasure is 
 the talk of the whole country !" she per- 
 sisted. 
 
 " Likely enough," he replied, " but a truce 
 to such folly Peggy, there is a piece of gold 
 for you, worth more than all that will ever 
 be found under the Lady'^ parlour, I dare 
 be sworn ; and now let us speak of serious 
 matters, and leave these follies to amuse the 
 old women in the village." 
 
 " Indeed, Master Carlton, there is no need 
 of this," murmured the girl, quietly slipping
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 195 
 
 the coin into her pocket. " You know very 
 well, I would lay down my life to serve 
 you without a thought of gain, and for the 
 matter of that foolish letter, I really brought 
 it to you, thinking to serve my young lady ; 
 for if Master Hubert should by any chance 
 be her brother " 
 
 " It would be dreadful !'' cried Carlton 
 interrupting her. " Very true, so light me 
 that taper, that I may make fast this precious 
 scrawl, as if no hands profane had opened 
 it : and then, Peggy, you must carry it forth- 
 with to its destination. I hope none of the 
 domestics saw you enter my chamber !'' 
 
 " Not a creature." 
 
 " So much the better, and now, as I have 
 many important letters to write, you must 
 leave me for the present ; but I shall expect 
 to see you again this evening — no, to-mor- 
 row early, at the end of the old avenue. So 
 now farewell, and be assured I shall not 
 readily forget the good services you have done 
 me," and with many gentle greetings, lie 
 most courteously got rid of his fair visiter. 
 K 3
 
 196 THE WARD OF THE CROWi!f. 
 
 "Heaven be praised," he murmured as 
 soon as he was once more alone, " heaven be 
 praised that I am at length rid of that chat- 
 tering cockatrice ! It is a dear penalty we 
 must pay for success, to be compelled to make 
 use of such creatures ! but the weakest tool 
 in skilful hands, has wrought out many a 
 wondrous work ere now ; and by my faith 
 this girl may be of more use than I imagined; 
 and if there be any truth in this tale of her 
 father, Sir Hugh may look in vain for his 
 mother's treasure to pay me his debts. Then, 
 to escape disgrace and ruin, he will be com- 
 pelled to purchase my forbearance, with his 
 daughter's hand. He has tried all gentle 
 means in vain, he says, but the young lady 
 is obstinate. This letter to master Hu- 
 bert explains the reason ! There is some 
 mystery about that youth which must be 
 fathomed ! I must speak to Sir Hugh with-"^ 
 out delay ; and now to business — these border 
 men must first be treated with, to be ready 
 to .fight for either side, I find it most con- 
 venient to support — and here are already
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 197 
 
 three letters from the court, need speedy 
 answers. Ah, if I fail to win a Baron's 
 coronet, before another year has passed above 
 my head, let fools mock me, as I tread the 
 streets l" 
 
 And with this object of ambition ever in 
 view, and others of greater magnitude, only 
 yet half defined, even to himself, the cour- 
 tier once more sat down at his writing 
 table, and resumed the arduous labours of 
 intriofue. 
 
 In consequence of mature reflection, when 
 he met Sir Hugh at eleven o'clock, at the 
 dinner table, he made no allusion to any 
 business of importance. He gave himself, 
 apparently, entirely to the pleasures of the 
 moment, and spared no pains to render his 
 conversation agreeable to the Knight and his 
 daughter. He wished to be more sure of his 
 ground before he advanced further, for he 
 knew full well, that in Sir Hugh Collingwood 
 he had a man to deal with, as practised 
 in the ways of the world, and almost as
 
 198 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 subtle, as himself, though with a less versa- 
 tile and cultivated intellect. 
 
 An hour afterwards his rencontre with 
 Hubert in the woods occurred, followed by 
 their meeting in Lady Isabel's parlour ; and 
 if the letter of the morning, and Peggy's 
 information, had before excited his jealousy, 
 that jealousy was deepened into hatred th^;!^ 
 most intense, by the conduct of the youth 
 himself, the bold defence which Ellen had 
 dared to make for him ; and by the insult 
 Lady Isabel had put upon him in the pre- 
 sence of a rival so contemptible. Even more 
 than all this, the personal appearance of 
 Hubert excited many stiange feelings in his 
 mind. It recalled to him with painful force 
 the remembrance of things he had long 
 striven to bury in oblivion. The attachment 
 of Lady Isabel for this young man, was a 
 thing for which he could by no means 
 rationally account, except by suspicions 
 which, if proved just, would suffice to wither 
 all his budding honors ; and when he re-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 199 
 
 turned to his apartments that afternoon, it 
 was with a dark, but firm conviction, that 
 Hubert was a rival in love and fortune, that 
 must speedily be removed from his path, ere 
 success was likely to attend his projects.
 
 200 THE WARD OF THE CROWN, 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 The dwelling of Sir Hugh CoUingwood was 
 a tall, square tower of ancient and strong 
 construction, surrounded by a deep, dull 
 moat, crossed in front of the great gate, by 
 a draw-bridge. At times, when no inroad 
 from the Scots was feared, a few loose planks 
 were thrown across the water, to a small 
 postern, opening from a garden at the back 
 of the building, to afford a convenient egress 
 from the house towards the west. To the
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW^. 201 
 
 south and east of the tower, was a large, 
 paved court, sufficient to contain five hun- 
 dred head of cattle in time of danger, and 
 great part of the lower story of the building, 
 was devoted to stables and granaries. From 
 the landing place of the narrow, winding 
 stairs, there opened on the first floor an iron 
 bound door, into a large, low hall, lighted 
 only by four casement windows, sunk in 
 recesses in the wall, more than seven feet 
 deep. An oaken table, thirty feet long, oc- 
 cupied the centre of the floor ; massive chairs 
 and cupboards stood around the walls, and 
 above them hung military accoutrements ; 
 matchlocks and spears, and battle axes, were 
 formed into quaint devices. The wild stag's 
 horns, the skin of the otter, and foxes' tails, 
 coats of mail, leathern jerkens and helmets, 
 occupied a higher place. All was warlike, 
 gloomy, and rude. A kitchen of scarcely 
 less dimensions was at the back of this 
 apartment, with various rooms and offices ; 
 and from a long gallery on the second floor, * 
 opened the principal bed-chambers. The 
 K5
 
 202 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 father of Sir Hugh, had added, about forty 
 years before, a barn-like looking building, 
 to the northern side of the tower, where 
 was the lady's parlour, and several sleeping 
 rooms, superior to those in the original 
 building. It was here Master Carlton was 
 lodged, and much to his satisfaction, en- 
 joyed the convenience of a separate stair- 
 case and entrance, but little used by the 
 household. 
 
 The chamber of Ellen was near that of 
 her father, on the principal floor of the 
 old tower, and adjoining a turret staircase 
 which descended to the garden. Its oak 
 wainscot, heavy stone chimney, and narrow 
 windows, would have rendered it gloomy 
 and cheerless, had not the blue bed, with 
 its fair, white coverlid, the embroidered 
 covers on the tables and wooden seats, the 
 flowers in pots, and other evidences of fe- 
 male taste, difiused an inexpressible charm, 
 over its rude simplicity. It had once been 
 occupied by Lady Isabel, and the windo\vs
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 203 
 
 commanded a beautiful view down the 
 valley. 
 
 Often had Ellen watched the setting sun 
 from her casement, as it threw its slanting 
 beams over wood and brake, but never had 
 she seen it descend behind the hills, with 
 anxiety so intense, as on that evening, when 
 the flight of every moment brought nearer 
 her appointed meeting with Hubert. 
 
 During the afternoon, she had been un- 
 able to resume any of her usual occupations ; 
 her books lay neglected, her lute and her 
 embroidery were thrown impatiently aside, 
 and the flowers she had that morning 
 gathered were left to wither unheeded. 
 Since the scene at the Manor house, her mind 
 had been so completely occupied by sub- 
 jects of profound interest, that she had for- 
 gotten these pursuits of happy idleness. 
 
 Young as she was, she was already on tlie 
 point of quitting for ever that passionless 
 Eden, where youth, and innocence taste for 
 awhile of happiness, even in this troubled 
 world. Trifles, beautiful however they
 
 204 THE WARD OF THE CROWN, 
 
 might be, could no longer engross her mind,, 
 for whilst her heart worshipped all that wa& 
 pure and noble, she had been plunged sud- 
 denly and deeply, into the war of evil. Yet 
 her resolution to defend, nay even to die for 
 the right, was strong and bold ; and not a 
 fear glanced across her imagination, when, 
 in the dusk of the evening, she wrapped a 
 w^ooUen scarf over her head and shoulders, 
 and descended her turret staircase to 
 the garden. Thence she passed by the 
 narrow postern bridge, to the path leading to 
 the banks of the stream, where she hoped 
 that Hubert was awaiting her. 
 
 The rays of the moon were mingling with 
 the dusky grey of twilight, as she entered 
 the woods, and the broken shadows of the 
 trees over the uneven ground, and the white 
 mists which flitted past, like spirits, from 
 time to time, along the side of the hill, 
 added to the wild and mysterious character 
 of the scene. 
 
 Frequently as she approached the spring, 
 she fancied she saw in some of these chang-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWK". 205 
 
 ing forms, the figure of Hubert, but a 
 moment's pause sufficed to undeceive her, 
 and she resumed her way. 
 
 Bertram's well, as the fountain rushing 
 from the face of the rock whither she went, 
 was called, was hidden in the deep valley of 
 the Willy Burn, by hanging trees, and thick 
 grown brushwood. But Ellen, who had often 
 been there in her childhood, knew the path- 
 way well. After proceeding some time 
 through the copse, she was about to descend 
 the rocky and difficult steps towards the 
 margin of the water, when she distinctly 
 saw the figure of a man on a little open plot 
 of grass a few paces to her left. 
 
 " Hubert !" she cried with a trembling 
 and anxious voice, but no reply was made, 
 and the figure, as if desirous of escaping ob- 
 servation, hurried forward into the darkest 
 part of the thicket. 
 
 She paused a moment, somewhat alarmed, 
 but quickly remembering that Saville was 
 probably awaiting her at the bottom of the 
 steps, she gathered her scarf around her.
 
 206 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 and descended the moss grown stairs, as 
 rapidly as the ruggedness and moisture of 
 the stones permitted. 
 
 At the base of the descent was an old 
 stone quarry, hewn out of the rocky banks 
 of the stream, a short distance beyond 
 which lay Bertram's well. To her astonish- 
 ment the whole of that unfrequented place 
 was lighted by the blaze of a faggot fire, 
 that burnt fiercely, mid-way between her 
 and the fountain. Over the blaze hung, sus- 
 pended by three sticks, a pot formed of 
 bullock's hide, wherein an old, fat, bandy- 
 legged man, wrapped in a shepherd's plaid, 
 was busily examining the smoking contents ; 
 near him stood two horses, one well fed 
 and groomed, the other raw-boned and 
 shaggy. 
 
 Ellen hesitated whether to proceed, or to 
 return, when the sound of a yoice arrested 
 her steps. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Adam, thou art a cunning fel- 
 low, a very cunning fellow," were the words 
 she heard — " there can be no doubt of that,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 207 
 
 where half a garrison would starve thou 
 wouldst be fat and full, and whilst others 
 scour the country in search of bullocks, thou 
 art wisely putting flesh upon thy bones at 
 home. If my bolt hits no Scotch deer I 
 can knock down a wood-pigeon, in case of 
 need. But by St. Dunstan I must be quick, 
 or I shall have Master Conyers here with an 
 empty stomach, and then adieu to my 
 supper." 
 
 So saying, the old man beside the fire, 
 who had uttered this soliloquy, removed the 
 boiling pot from the cross sticks, and placing 
 it on the ground, deliberately seated himself 
 on a low stone, v/ith his legs on either side 
 of the smoking vessel, and drawing forth a 
 wooden spoon from his girdle, commenced 
 devouring the almost boiling mess it con- 
 tained, with astonishing rapidity. 
 
 Ellen stood several minutes in the shadow 
 of the bushes, undecided how to act, and 
 watching with wonder and curiosity a proceed- 
 ing so extraordinary at such a time, and irt 
 such a place. She was, however, quickly dis-
 
 208 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 turbed, by a soft, low whistle, from the 
 opposite side of the brake. The effect this 
 sound produced upon the old man, was 
 instantaneous, but instead of attempting to 
 arise, in obedience to the signal, he only 
 redoubled the velocity, with which he thrust 
 spoonful after spoonful of the scalding pot- 
 tage into his mouth. But in spite of his 
 puffing and grimaces, he had made but little 
 progress, when Ellen beheld the graceful 
 figure of a boy, come from an opposite path, 
 into the full glare of the fire, whose face 
 and form, she distinguished with wonder 
 and admiration, even in that lurid light, 
 were more lovely than any she had ever 
 before seen in woman. The delicate grace, 
 the beauty, nay even the dress of this figure, 
 she felt were foreign to that wild country ; 
 and the southern accent in which it 
 addressed the old man, confirmed this 
 idea. 
 
 " Up,* Adam ! up and away,'' were the 
 words of the boy, as he approached, " this 
 is no hour for feasting. By the saints I
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 209 
 
 must bring a younger guide the next time 
 I ride over the hills, for a Scot might send 
 an arrow through thy brain, and have the 
 horses over the border, whilst thou art spend- 
 ing thy breath to cool thy porridge. Master 
 Conyers will be at thy heels ere long, and 
 then I warrant thy soup kettle will vanish 
 in a trice !" 
 
 " And so shall it now, young master,'' 
 was the old man's prompt reply, though 
 he eagerly thrust another spoonful into his 
 mouth, without making the slightest effort 
 to arise. 
 
 " I trust, at least, you have not forgotten 
 the horses, whilst you have been taking care 
 of yourself V said mistress Marion, for it 
 was she, passing on at once to the spot 
 where the animals were fastened to the 
 stump of an old tree, and beginning to 
 arrange the harness of her palfrey, which 
 welcomed her with a neigh of pleasure. 
 
 " Master ! master ! that is my work !" 
 cried Adam now attempting to roll round 
 on to his knees in order to regain his feet.
 
 210 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " It may be so/' returned the maiden 
 with indifference, as she continued her pre- 
 parations, " but it seems you prefer the in- 
 dulgence of your appetite, and I must be 
 my own groom, and leave thee to follow 
 when the kettle is empty. This is no place 
 for me to tarry, and you must answer to 
 master Conyers, as you are best able, for 
 your delay. 
 
 " By Blackboard, and Whiteboard, and St. 
 Dunstan, and all the saints, I am coming,'' 
 cried the ancient trooper, scrambling on his 
 feet, and snatching up his kettle to serve on 
 some more convenient occasion ; but before 
 he could arrive to give his assistance to the 
 maiden, she had her foot in the stirrup, and 
 vaulting lightly into her saddle, desired him 
 to make all speed. 
 
 " Mount — mount quickly," she cried ; " I 
 will tarry two minutes for you, and no 
 longer," and whilst Adam hastily arranged 
 his horse's bit and bridle, she made a turn 
 on her impatient palfrey around the open 
 space between the fire and the woods.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 211 
 
 Ellen marked with wonder the skill with 
 which she rode in boyish fashion, and kept 
 her eyes fixed upon her light and graceful 
 form, half doubtful if her senses were not 
 deluded by the witchery of some superna- 
 tural being from the realms of night ; but 
 ere she had encompassed half the circle, the 
 dark branches of the trees at the opposite 
 side were pushed suddenly apart, and there, 
 in the broad light of the flames, stood Master 
 Richard Carlton. 
 
 A black mantle covered nearly the whole 
 of his person, but his small velvet cap left 
 his features fully exposed to view. The 
 horror there depicted was fearful, as he 
 fixed his eyes wildly upon Marion, whose 
 face was, alone, distinctly visible amidst the 
 flame and flitting smoke of the faggots, 
 pale, sad, and beautiful as an unearthly 
 vision. 
 
 The terror of Ellen at the appearance of 
 Carlton was extreme ! yet in spite of her 
 fears, she remained as if rivetted to the 
 spot, by the intense interest of the scene
 
 212 THE WARD OF THE CROWJf. 
 
 that was passing before her. Yet whatever 
 might be her well grounded apprehensions of 
 ,this bad man, and the reasonable fears ex- 
 cited by his presence at such a time, and 
 place, her feelings were weak indeed, when 
 compared with the horror which seemed to 
 freeze the very heart of Marion, when her 
 eyes first fell upon his form. A faint shriek 
 burst from her blanched lips, the horse and 
 its rider drew back as if in the presence of 
 an evil spirit, and remained for a few seconds 
 fixed as stone. But Marion, more prepared 
 than Carlton for the apparition she beheld, 
 had no sooner marked his terror, than re- 
 covering the presence of mind which rarely 
 forsook her, she raised her hand with a 
 threatening gesture towards heaven, and 
 then pronouncing in a firm, distinct, and 
 solemn voice, the words, "there shall the 
 just and the unjust meet again, before the 
 Judgment seat," urged forward her palfrey, 
 and in another moment vanished into the 
 deep obscurity of the woods. 
 
 Carlton made no movement, he uttered
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 213 
 
 no word, but the hues of death were on 
 his brow, and the pangs of hell within his 
 heart. For the first time in his life, he had 
 fears of the futurity he had scorned till then, 
 and the darkest terrors of superstition, for 
 a few moments, usurped entire dominion 
 over his powerful and essentially temporal 
 mind. He felt that in eternity, were powders 
 he knew not of, to which the boasted strength 
 of man, in all his pride and vain glory, was 
 as a dried leaf before the rushing strength 
 of the torrent ; he felt that for the soul, 
 were other states of being, of which men 
 know nothing, though vengeance and punish- 
 ment there await them, for the deeds done 
 in i;he flesh ! he felt that the intact and 
 subtle air, was, in defiance of all human sense, ■ 
 peopled with forms invisible, to whom the 
 secrets of the most cunning mind were clear 
 as day, and crimes forgotten by the criminal, 
 as fresh in their enormity, as at the hour of 
 their perpetration. 
 
 >:5uch a spirit, in his first terror, he scarcely 
 doubted he had seen ; but when his mind
 
 214 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 had gradually recovered its powers, when he 
 observed the marks of footsteps on the sand, 
 the ashes of the waning fire still glowing 
 amidst the darkness, and saw the remains of 
 food amongst the trodden grass, other thoughts, 
 scarcely less strange and bewildering, came 
 over his brain, and walking slowly round 
 the area of the old stone quarry, he took 
 mark, with fearful interest, of every evidence 
 of the recent presence of human beings. 
 
 Twice he approached within a few paces 
 of the hiding place of Ellen ; and though the 
 fire had sunk so low, that she could no 
 longer distinguish the agonized expression 
 of his convulsed features, his hurried and 
 abrupt movements sufficed to convince her, 
 that he was distracted by some terrible 
 conflict of the passions. All her former fears 
 of Carlton were ten times multiplied by this 
 awful scene, and yet she dared not fly. She 
 felt that danger, the most imminent, would 
 result from his discovering, that she had been 
 a witness of his agony, and scarcely ventur- 
 ing to draw her breath, as he passed, she
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 215 
 
 stood motionless as a statue, in her hiding 
 place. 
 
 At length, to her infinite relief, the 
 Secretary himself departed. Thrice she heard 
 low, appalling oaths of vengeance breathed 
 from his lips, whilst he gazed on the spot 
 where Marion had disappeared ; and thrice 
 she heard him denounce curses on his own 
 head, for his weakness and his folly ; and 
 then still muttering between his teeth, words 
 of unintelligble meaning, he ascended a path 
 amongst the rocks. He had forgotten those 
 whom he came thither to watch. 
 
 Eagerly did she listen till his footsteps 
 were no longer audible on the still air of the 
 tranquil night, and then pushing aside the 
 branches, she at length ventured to come 
 forth into the open space at the foot of the 
 quarry. The time of her appointed meet- 
 ing with Hubert Saville was past, yet un- 
 willing that another night should pass ere 
 she had spoken with him, on many subjects 
 of deep importance to them both, she deter- 
 mined to continue her way to the spring,
 
 216 THE WARD OF THE CWW^. 
 
 hoping that in spite of her long delay, he 
 might still be awaiting there. Ere she had 
 proceeded far, and whilst she once more 
 paused to listen if all were still around, she 
 heard her own name softly pronounced, and 
 in another moment Hubert was at her 
 side. 
 
 " Ah, Ellen ! dearest Ellen," he cried, as 
 unforbidden he clasped her, in the first tumult 
 of his joy, to his heart, " now can I indeed 
 believe that the beloved companion of my 
 childhood, hath not forgotten me ! that the 
 angel who soothed my youthful sorrows, does 
 not deny her sympathy to the trials of my 
 riper years ! Ellen," he continued with pas- 
 sionate ardour, when he felt her tears fall 
 fast upon his shoulder, " is it possible you 
 love me 'i is it possible the wild dreams of 
 my solitude have not been all vain ! and that 
 I may venture to hope, I am not alone upon 
 the face of the earth ! Is it possible that 
 after two years of absence, the image of a 
 being so humble, friendless, poor and unen- 
 dowed, can still hold a place in the heart
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 217 
 
 of a noble maiden like thee, amidst all the 
 adulations and flatteries of a court V 
 
 " Hubert," she • softly returned, " if you 
 knew their falsehood and their worthlessness, 
 as well as I do, you would have no fears 
 they could have charms for me !" 
 
 " But Ellen," he replied, " you were young 
 — very young when we parted — we had 
 never spoken of love, and what right had I 
 to think, — what right have I now to hope, that 
 I hold any place in your heart. I might forget 
 my poverty, and the mystery that hangs over 
 my birth, when we were formerly together, 
 as if alone upon earth, with no being near 
 us to remind us of the artificial distinctions 
 of society ; no voice to warn me of the 
 gulf that lay between the friendless and 
 portionless child of mystery, and the rich 
 daughter of a powerful knight ; but when 
 you departed Ellen, and the fearful realities 
 unfolded, with time, ioefore me, I felt how 
 different was your destined course and mine, 
 and hope died in my heart. ' 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " And jou forgot me, Hubert V murmured 
 the soft voice of the lady. 
 
 "That was impossible/' he replied, "though 
 I rarely thought of you without agony — I 
 treasured your remembrance — what had I 
 else to cherish '? what had I else to love '? and 
 day by day I felt, in my solitary dreams, that 
 my whole soul was devoted unto thee. To 
 despair was maddening, yet what had I to 
 hope for '? — the protracted misery of a clois- 
 ter ! Happen what would, I resolved at 
 least to escape that certain slavery, and a 
 year has now passed, since I swore in secret 
 a solemn oath, that no power of friends nor 
 enemies, should ever compel me to become a 
 priest. No, Ellen no ! though I had no hope, 
 I lacked the power to bring thy fair image 
 as a sacrifice to the foot of the cross ! 
 passion was strong in my heart, and I felt 
 that I must perish, ere it were annihilated. 
 For a year I have hoarded a portion of 
 the profits of my labours, hoping day after 
 day to find an occasion to travel hence to 
 London. You were thqre, Ellen — I scarcely
 
 TIIE WARD OF THE CROW>f. 219 
 
 dared to think that we should meet, but 
 you were there, and as by the presence of 
 an angel, the jDlace seemed hallowed ! two 
 days more, and I had departed from these 
 wilds, where we have been so blest in child- 
 hood, and in youth together, to prove the 
 hazards of this changeful world. And when 
 my heart was saddest, my despair most 
 deep, thou hast returned, true to the memory 
 of our early days." 
 
 " And to our early love," murmured the 
 girl, in accents which conveyed a rapture the 
 most intense to the heart of Hubert. 
 
 " May all good angels reward thee, my 
 own Ellen," he returned, " none but a heart 
 so noble, and so pure as thine, could be 
 capable of such a feeling ; but, oh dearest, 
 whatever may be our destiny, whatever future 
 trials the world may have in store for us, let 
 it be a consolation, a happiness to thee, to 
 know that thou hast rendered one human 
 being on the face of the earth supremely 
 happy, that thou hast plucked the rankling 
 thorns of doubt, and agony, and desolation, 
 L 3
 
 220 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 from one poor bleeding heart, and with thy 
 love bestowed on it, the power to struggle 
 with untiring courage, against the ills of 
 life. 
 
 " And thou hast need of courage, Hubert ; 
 thou hast need of resolution ; thou hast need 
 of our love, to sustain thee against the machi- 
 nations, and the wicked strength of the man 
 whom even whilst ignorant of our attach- 
 ment, an evil chance, has, I fear, already 
 made your enemy !" 
 
 " Is it to Master Carlton you allude V 
 demanded Saville. 
 
 " Yes, to Master Carlton," answered Ellen, 
 " to the friend of my father, the heir, in 
 default of a nearer male relative, to my 
 father's land, the professed suitor of his 
 daughter, and the avaricious coveter of her 
 mother's inheritance, and Lady Isabel's broad 
 fields and hoarded gold — without the hope 
 of which her hand would have little value 
 in his eyes." 
 
 " And is it possible, Sir Hugh can favour 
 the addresses of such a man V demanded 
 Hubert eagerly.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 221 
 
 " Perchance you know not," she returned, 
 " that my father cannot touch the fortune of 
 my mother, which is my inheritance ; and that 
 his own coffers are drained to the very dregs. 
 Lady Isabel, ever persuaded that she shall 
 live to see her eldest son, or his heirs, restored 
 to the wealth and honors of the family, when 
 the persecution of the friends of the house 
 of Lancaster has ceased, refuses to advance 
 him money. Master Carlton, who openly 
 scoffs at the lady's delusion, as he calls it, 
 and professes his belief that Sir Hugh must 
 ere long inherit her property, has lent him 
 vast sums to secure his consent to his mar- 
 riage with me. How I know all this, it 
 matters not, but I do know, though I blush 
 to confess it, that my father has sold his 
 child for a portion of her inheritance, and 
 an entire release from his debts to my in- 
 tended husband. You may perhaps marvel, 
 how Master Carlton has so much wealth at 
 command, but you will cease to do so, when 
 I tell you, that he has been engaged in the 
 intrigues of all parties, during the last
 
 222 THE WARD OF THE CROWN". 
 
 twenty years of our sad civil wars, and that 
 innumerable affairs of forfeitures and ran- 
 soms, and compositions of treason, have passed 
 through his hands, leaving large profits. 
 Other stories are likewise current, yet more 
 to his dishonor ; but let it suffice to say, he 
 is respected by no man, though many bow 
 before him, who need his services." 
 
 " And is he not in the king's employ T 
 inquired Hubert. 
 
 " He is the private Secretary of Richard 
 the Third," replied Ellen. "His Majesty 
 has been indebted to him for the negotiation 
 of certain rich loans from the city ; and the 
 Queen Dowager had formerly to thank him 
 for the means of portioning several of her 
 poor relations. Nevertheless he has failed 
 in two attempts to marry rich Wards of the 
 Crown ! thence is it, that his serpent eyes 
 have fixed on me. To forward his schemes, 
 and to be assured of the extent of my for- 
 tune, he has brought my father from the 
 court, to the north country, at such a 
 season."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 223 
 
 " Has he ever ventured openly to profess 
 his intentions to yourself V asked the young 
 man anxiously. 
 
 " Once, and once only, about three months 
 ago," was the reply, " and you Hubert, who 
 have only seen me in my gentle moods, would 
 have been surprised, had you heard the scorn 
 and ridicule with which I treated his gallan- 
 try, or love, as he was pleased to call his 
 audacious avarice. It was not wise per- 
 chance, to be thus frank with such a man, 
 but it is my nature, and were I to have 
 died instantly, I could not have listened 
 tranquilly to the insulting mockery of his 
 professions." 
 
 " How did he bear such treatment V 
 
 " Most coolly and most calmly ! He smiled, 
 and then I knew the secret venom in his 
 heart was twenty times more poisonous than 
 before. And still he smiles, though every 
 day I feel his subtle chains are ^vinding 
 closer and more closely round me. I am 
 selfish, very selfish, Hubert, to seek to draw 
 you, likewise, within the poisoned circle of 
 his evil influence, but without your aid, I
 
 224 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 feel I have no power to extricate myself 
 from his spells. To my father I dare not 
 appeal, for he is Carlton's slave ; to Lady 
 Isabel I dread to apply, lest her strong 
 passions, little short of madness, might ag- 
 gravate my danger ; the king, to whom in 
 extreme necessity I should not lack the 
 courage to petition, has not a heart to feel 
 for women's sufferings, and Carlton is his 
 favourite and trusted agent. To whom, 
 then, can I look in such distress, save unto 
 you." 
 
 " And by my hopes of heaven, you shall 
 never find that your confidence has been mis- 
 placed," returned the young man, passion- 
 ately ; and with all the energy of recovered 
 hope, and the exulting sense of youthful 
 strength and dauntless courage, he continued. 
 " Yes, Ellen ! from this moment, my heart, 
 my arm, my life, are yours, and yours alone; 
 and I swear to you, that ere you are made 
 Carlton's wife, this body must be crumbling 
 in the grave ! But fear it not ; that hour 
 will never come, for God in his wise justice
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 225 
 
 lends a strength to innocence, before which 
 the guilty must at length crouch down, 
 crushed by their weight of sin/^ 
 
 " Hush Hubert ! hush ! methought I heard 
 a rustling amidst yonder bushes/' 
 
 " Ha ! if we are watched, it shall cost 
 dear to him who plays the paltry eaves- 
 dropper \" exclaimed Saville, and ere Ellen 
 could reply, or even stretch out her hand to 
 arrest his flight, he snatched a short dagger 
 from his girdle and plunged into the thick 
 covert, whence it appeared the sounds had 
 proceeded. 
 
 The fire had now expired, the moon had 
 set, and clouds had gathered over the stars, 
 leaving all earth in solemn darkness. As 
 Ellen stood alone, and trembling for the 
 result of her imprudent exclamation, she 
 heard the crash of the branches on every 
 side, as Hubert forced his way amongst the 
 the brushwood. By degrees, as the sounds, 
 further and further ofi", marked his solitary 
 progress, she began to flatt# herself with 
 the hope that hej* suspicions had been 
 L 5
 
 226 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 groundless, when like an arrow from a bow, 
 she heard the rushing of footsteps from the 
 western copse, and she indistinctly perceived 
 the shadow of a human figure, dart past her, 
 and rush up the rocky steps she had de- 
 scended thither. Then all was once more 
 silent as before, save when Hubert, after a 
 fruitless search, forced his way back through 
 the copse. 
 
 '' Have you seen nought V she eagerly 
 demanded, as he regained her side. 
 
 " Nothing but an owl I frightened from 
 its roost," was his reply. 
 
 " The saints be praised," she returned, 
 " and yet I did not err, for not three minutes 
 since a figure darted past me through the 
 wood, and fled like an evil spirit from the 
 morn." 
 
 " Why did you not call me !" 
 
 " It saw me not, and whoever it might be, 
 it was better to let it pass tranquilly, than 
 to provok'e a 'needless and perhaps fatal 
 strife." "^ 
 
 "Yet. Ellen, ere I joined you first this
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 227 
 
 evening, I saw that miscreant Carlton, here, 
 in the light of the blazing fire," said Hubert, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, and I saw him likewise," rejoined 
 Ellen, " which 1 had told you ere now, had 
 not other thoughts, and more pressing 
 interests engaged my attention. Did you 
 too behold the fair phantom before which he 
 stood appalled ? methought, though in the 
 garments of a boy, it had a woman's 
 features." 
 
 '• And thou wert right," was Hubert's re- 
 ply, for he too had been a witness to the 
 whole scene of Marion's departure, and 
 greatly astonished by Carlton's evident re- 
 cognition of the outlaw's fair and delicate 
 messenger. " I have met that mysterious 
 being ere now, I would tell thee where, and 
 when, did I not fear that hidden listeners 
 yet may be lurking near us, and that the 
 secret is another's, not mine own. But I 
 confess, I am utterly ignorant how Carlton 
 could have any previous knowledge of this 
 girl."
 
 228 THE WARD OF THE CROW!T, 
 
 " There is some fearful story doubtlessly 
 attached to this dark mystery/' returned 
 Ellen, with a slight shudder, " and were I 
 to live a thousand years, I could never for- 
 get the girl's voice, nor his countenance of 
 horror, when she denounced a future judg- 
 ment/' 
 
 " Let us be silent, Ellen, I beg, concerning 
 all we have witnessed, even to Lady Isabel," 
 said Hubert, solemnly, " believe me, I have 
 reasons for this caution, though on the con- 
 trary, all that concerns ourselves I would 
 ,most gladly confide to her." 
 
 " I fear we can expect no aid from hex !" 
 answered the lady, sadly. " I scarcely dare 
 to say it, Hubert, but she is proud, very 
 proud, and though I know she hates this 
 Carlton as much as I detest him, I fear she 
 would never sanction any alliance for her 
 grand-daughter, except with blood as noble 
 as her own." 
 
 " And she is right, dear Ellen ! your 
 family would seek with justice to match you 
 even near the throne, and I only so much
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 229 
 
 the more desire, that Lady Isabel should not 
 be kept in ignorance of our attachment. 
 Vast is the debt of gratitude I owe her, and 
 I would sooner die, than requite it by de- 
 ception. I should despise myself." 
 
 "But should she refuse to sanction our 
 love 1" demanded the girl eagerly. 
 
 " We must submit, nor in our passion for- 
 get all sense of duty," returned the young 
 man ; and as Ellen listened to his words, 
 though painful was their import, she exulted 
 in this proof ^f noble sentiment, in him, 
 whom she had chosen to be the companion 
 of her life. " Time and submission may at 
 length win her consent," he continued " for 
 a heart so feeling as hers, c^n never long 
 persist in causing the utter misery of those 
 she loves ; and in the meantime she, and 
 she nlone, can defend you from Carlton's 
 bold pretences." 
 
 " You are right, Hubert — I feel you are 
 right, and to-morrow let the disclosure be 
 made," she replied. " Rethinks she will be
 
 230 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 more indulgent, if the tale be told by you : 
 and in good sooth, I dare not do it/^ 
 
 " Then I will be the messenger," said Hu- 
 bert. " Father Ambrose requires my services 
 till then, and I must not annoy him by any 
 apparent neglect lest he join with Carlton to 
 irritate your father against me. He is al- 
 ready sufficiently enraged by the an- 
 nouncement of my resolution to depart for 
 London." 
 
 " Yet you will not hurry thither, now 
 Hubert," said Ellen, in a soft, low voice of 
 entreaty. 
 
 " I will never desert you, Ellen ! you 
 cannot believe it," was his half reproachful 
 reply. 
 
 " Ah, Hubert, it would indeed be dreadful, 
 were you to leave me, yet we dare meet but 
 seldom, and even now must part. The night 
 is waning fast, and I fear I have already been 
 abroad too long." 
 
 " Yet, here we cannot say farewell," 
 answered her lover. " That there are others 
 abroad, besides ourselves, we have already
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 231 
 
 had convincing proof, and I cannot leave 
 you to pass alone through the wild paths, 
 between this spot and the tower." 
 
 It was in vain that Ellen opposed Hu- 
 bert's determination to accompany her to 
 her home, and with rapid steps, they pro- 
 ceeded together to the little bridge, leading 
 to the garden of her father s dwelling. The 
 darkness rendered it impossible that he 
 could be observed from the windows, and 
 the appearance of Carlton in the woods 
 that night, had left a feeling of terror on 
 Ellen's mind, which though she forbore to 
 express it, made her secretly fearful of re- 
 turning over the hills alone. Moreover, it 
 was happiness to prolong, even for this 
 brief space, the presence of Hubert. The 
 pressure of his hand, as her arm rested 
 upon his, the sound of his voice amidst the 
 obscurity of the tranquil night, imparted to 
 her young heart, a bliss so pure, so full, that 
 all the difficulties that threatened them were 
 forgotten, in the ecstasy of the passing mo- 
 ment.
 
 232 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 The lights beaming from Carlton's windows 
 as they approached, warned her, however, 
 that the moment of separation had arrived, 
 and the lovers at length unwillingly parted, 
 under the shadow of the walls, with many 
 assurances of affection. The last words of 
 Saville, were to appoint a meeting near the 
 cottage of the miller, on the evening of the 
 following day.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Whilst Ellen ascended the turret stair to 
 her chamber, after she parted form Hubert, 
 two men were keeping watch over the 
 movements of the lovers, from a grated 
 window in an old guard room, beside the 
 Postern. 
 
 Sir Hugh Collingwood and Master Carlton 
 had been stationed there for more than a 
 quarter of an hour, eagerly awaiting the return 
 of the lovers, and the light left burning in the
 
 234 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 apartment of the Secretary, was only a 
 snare to cheat them to security. Every 
 word they uttered at parting, was distinctly 
 audible to the watchers' attentive ears, and 
 Carlton had the utmost difficulty in restrain- 
 ing the angry impatience of the Knight, 
 when he heard the repeated expression of 
 their love. 
 
 " At length you believe me, Sir Hugh,'' he 
 said, when all was again silent, "that at 
 least is some satisfaction. It appears this 
 young man has less vocation to the Church, 
 than you have been persuaded to believe. 
 In truth, the Lady Isabel has introduced 
 your daughter to pretty company !" 
 
 " Confound the audacious varlet !" ex- 
 claimed the Knight, still too irritated to 
 hold reasonable discourse, " were he bound 
 to a cart, and whipped through the village, 
 it would be too good for him. But he shall 
 repent this insolence, if I die for it." 
 
 " Something must be done, that is clear," 
 returned Carlton, who had now made visible 
 the light of his lantern ; " but methinks,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 23 
 
 we have been long enough in this dark hole 
 for rats and toads, so with your permission, 
 Sir Hugh, we will adjourn our council to my 
 chamber, where there is still a faggot blazing 
 on the hearth, and a cup of spiced wine to 
 season our discourse." 
 
 " You are right," was Sir Hugh's blunt 
 reply, as he strode after his guest, from their 
 hiding place. "Whatever induced me to 
 marry, I know not, for by the mass, if there 
 is a curse upon earth, to punish a man for his 
 sins, it is a daughter. When he has tutored, 
 and fed, and clothed her for a score of years, 
 and in good sooth has a right to expect some 
 return for all his pains, the minx turns res- 
 tive, talks of love, and such folly ; and for 
 the sake of some penniless, beardless, base- 
 born knave, would see her father hung 
 between two thieves at Tyburn, before she 
 would stretch out a finger to save him." 
 
 " And yet excuse me, Sir Hugh," returned 
 the courtier, " but a father is often much to 
 blame for his child's disobedience." 
 
 " By the saints. Master Carlton, what do
 
 236 THE WARD OF THE CROWi;i. 
 
 mean by such language V cried the Knight 
 turning suddenly round. 
 
 " Nothing that need offend you, only it 
 appears to me, you have been too gentle, 
 too indulgent, to this girl. Pray let us be 
 seated," he said, entering the chamber, and 
 pointing to the chairs near the table, on 
 which still stood a huge jug of mulled wine, 
 and the half emptied glass of the Knight. 
 
 Sir Hugh obeyed without reply, and when 
 the Secretary had taken his place, opposite 
 to him, he thus continued, " we are relations 
 and old friends, and it is my duty to speak 
 plain on this subject, for it has indeed 
 grieved me to see, that my cousin Ellen has 
 been too much left to be spoilt by that old 
 termagant Lady Isabel, whilst it seems she 
 had inherited enough of her headstrong 
 nature, to have had need of a pretty tight 
 rein." 
 
 " There you speak truth !" cried the angry 
 father, " and she shall be taught better for the 
 future. She shall be locked up in a cham-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 237 
 
 ber on the third story, with nothing but 
 bread and water, to tame her." 
 
 " And she will get out by the window," 
 rejoined the Secretary, coolly, " no, no, that 
 would only make matters worse, now tiiey 
 have gone so far. Provoke a woman's anger, 
 and her ingenuity will outwit you, depend 
 upon it. If you sincerely wish your daughter 
 should become my wife, we must go to work 
 in another manner." 
 
 " Let me hear your plan," said the Knight, 
 sullenly, for indolent and impatient, he fre- 
 quently considered the fine drawn intrigues 
 of Master Carlton as very unnecessary, and 
 very dangerous mystifications, and delays. 
 
 " It is with the youth we must begin,'"' 
 was the reply, " I frankly tell you I don't 
 understand your conduct about this Hubert 
 Saville. Notwithstanding our long intimacy, 
 notwithstanding the important circumstances 
 which have united our interests, you have 
 hitherto left me in entire ignorance of the 
 existence of such a being, though since my
 
 238 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 arrival here, I have learnt enough to con- 
 vince me, that he has been under your pro- 
 tection from his infancy ; you have allowed 
 him to creep into the favour and affections 
 of your mother, till even the village gossips 
 name him for her heir. Ah start ! but it is 
 true. You have been a witness of his in- 
 solence to me, and his bold attentions to 
 your daughter, and yet you leave him to 
 pursue his course at pleasure, and talk of 
 locking up your daughter upon bread and 
 water, as a sufficient remedy for all these 
 ills." 
 
 " I have only learnt to day, this youth's 
 refusal to enter a monastery,'' answered the 
 Knight, " but by the mass he shall be com- 
 pelled to do so." 
 
 " Methinks even that is unnecessary, if he 
 be your own son, as the neighbourhood be- 
 lieves," returned the Secretary, ^fixing his 
 piercing eyes upon his host with a searching 
 glance, which bold as he was, he shrank 
 from encountering.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 239 
 
 " Ah true — true," stammered Sir Hugh, 
 on whose brain the potent draughts of the 
 evening were beginning to take effect, '• if 
 he be mj own son, there is nothing, as jou 
 say, to fear between him and Ellen. Brother 
 and sister ! most capital ! brother and sister ! 
 that is a salve for every ill !" and he laughed 
 long and loud, as if triumphing in the dis- 
 covery of a new and admirable expedient. 
 
 " And if he be not your own son, in the 
 name of all the saints who is this young 
 varlet T demanded Carlton eagerly, his 
 curiosity now more than ever excited by the 
 strange conduct of the Knight. 
 
 " Ah ! if he be not my own son, who is 
 he !" he replied, still laughing loudly, " that 
 is a pretty question truly, to ask a father ! 
 As long as he is not my heir, you may be 
 content without asking further questions, 
 methinks ! but let me tell you, sir, ' it is a 
 wise child who knows his own father,' es- 
 pecially in these wild times." 
 
 " By the mass, if he be your son, what 
 need for so much mystery V' said the secre-
 
 240 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 tary calmly, for he saw that all angry ex- 
 postulation would be entirely useless with 
 his host, in his present confused, and half 
 intoxicated state. " No man now-a-days 
 need be ashamed of being the father of a 
 brave and handsome youth, whether his 
 mother wore a wedding ring, or not, and I 
 cannot understand your mystery and hesita- 
 tion on this point." 
 
 " My mother, Master Carlton, my mother 
 is strict in these matters," returned Sir 
 Hugh, with a cunning twinkling of the eye, 
 " and when my wife was alive, poor 
 lady-" 
 
 " But she is gone to the angels, long 
 ago, peace be unto her," answered the 
 courtier impatiently, " and moreover, it is 
 not necessary to publish the story ; I will 
 put you on a better plan than that." 
 
 " To-morrow !" muttered the knight, 
 making a last effort to unclose his heavy 
 eyes. 
 
 " Ay, to-morrow, thou art right," returned 
 Carlton, '' I see it is no use casting more
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 241 
 
 pearls before swine at present," and taking 
 up the lamp, he left his host to his slumbers, 
 and entered the little chamber adjoining, 
 which was appropriated to the transaction 
 of his private affairs. He advanced, by the 
 feeble rays of the light he carried, to the 
 further end of the apartment, and having 
 taken, from an oaken desk, the papers with 
 which it was his intention to occupy himself 
 for some hours of the night, he turned 
 to approach the table. He then first per- 
 ceived that a man was sitting, appa- 
 rently asleep, in a small recess near the 
 door. 
 
 For a moment Carlton felt alarmed, but 
 raising his lamp to take a better survey 
 of the intruder, he speedily recognised the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Ha, art thou there !" he cried, and ap- 
 parently awakened by the voice, the sleeper 
 arose, and displayed in his broad and 
 athletic proportions, the powerful figure of 
 Marston Conyers, attired as Hubert had re- ^ 
 
 cently seen him in the miller's hovel. • r 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 The contrast between the slender and 
 elegantly dressed person of the polished 
 courtier, and that of the rude, and half 
 savage-looking moss-trooper, was striking in 
 the extreme, but though the manner of the 
 one had all the refinement of the highest 
 breeding, and that of the other was abrupt, 
 and almost ungracious, as he returned his 
 .salutation, there was more true nobility in 
 vithe stern and simple soldier-like address of 
 the outlaw, than in all the studied suavity 
 of his hypocritical host. 
 
 " You seem surprised to see me, Master 
 Carlton," he abruptly began, " but if I un- 
 derstood your letter rightly, you appointed 
 ten o'clock to-night as the hour for me to be 
 here, and I have been punctual ! how 
 long I have been kept sleeping, I know 
 not." 
 
 " In tfuth I owe you many apologies for 
 my delay," returned the Secretary, " but 
 affairs of importance, unexpectedly demanded 
 my presence elsewhere. I was not aware on
 
 ^fiE WARD OF THE CROWN. 243 
 
 mj return, of your arrival, and the company 
 of Sir Hugh Collingwood — " 
 
 " Enough ! Enough Y' cried the outlaw, 
 hastily interrupting him, " there is no need 
 of ceremony between us. As I understand 
 the affair, you have summoned me hither 
 for your interests, and I have come here for 
 mine own ; and had it not suited my con- 
 venience, I had not waited a quarter of an 
 hour for your pleasure, you may depend on 
 it. It seems you have need of soldiers, 
 Master Carlton r 
 
 " To collect a troop for the King's service 
 is the object of my journey hither," was tlie 
 reply. 
 
 " But have you the authority of the King, 
 or a warrant from the proper officers," coolly 
 returned the outlaw. " My people, I tell 
 you candidly, have no inclination to incur 
 anew the penalties of rebellion, by appearing 
 unlawfully in arms, they know not why, or 
 wherefore ; and they must be sure of his 
 Majesty's favour, before they put an arrow 
 in their quivers." 
 M 3
 
 244 THE WARD OF THE CROW^. 
 
 "I have King Eichard the Third's com- 
 mission for levying soldiers," was the Secre- 
 tary's answer, " or I had not presumed on 
 such a course. The papers are here, ready 
 for your inspection, if you doubt my word/' 
 and he took a scroll from those he held in 
 his hand, and spread it before his guest. 
 
 It was a copy of the address afterwards 
 published by proclamation to the whole 
 kingdom,'"' calling upon all the natural and 
 true subjects of his Majesty's realm, to arm 
 themselves, and be ready at an hour's warn- 
 ing, to attend upon his person, in defence of 
 the King, the church, and the realm, against 
 the false traitor, Henry, Earl of Richmond. 
 
 " This is very well. Master Carlton !" said 
 the soldier coolly folding up the paper when 
 he had perused it, " but you must be well 
 aware, there is no power at hand to compel 
 wild roving men like myself, and my com- 
 rades, to march forth from our fastnesses 
 
 * See Paston's letter?.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW>f. 245 
 
 against our will and pleasure ; and I must 
 tell jou, it is not our will and pleasure to 
 forsake the plunder of the Scottish border, 
 for a hungry campaign against Henry Tudor, 
 if we are not first assured of being well paid 
 for our trouble." 
 
 "Depend on it, there are silly lords 
 enough will join his party, to make rich for- 
 feitures, after their defeat,'' answered Carlton, 
 "and Richard is a generous paymaster to 
 his friends." 
 
 " Yet, when the Duke of Buckingham de- 
 manded hio lands, in right of his mother, 
 though he had put the crown upon his head, 
 he let him plead in vain, and sent him to the 
 scaffold as his sole reward." 
 
 " The Duke was a proud, vain rebel, 
 whom nothing could content short of the 
 throne itself." 
 
 " Yet he professed to fight for Henry 
 Tudor," rejoined the moss-trooper, " and let 
 me tell you, sir, that King Richard's success 
 is this time more uncertain, for rumours 
 have reached even our hills, that many nobles
 
 246 THE WARD OF THE CROWNo 
 
 and gentlemen, not silly lords as you assert^ 
 but valiant men and wise, have crossed the 
 seas to join Earl Henr/s standard, whilst 
 many more are ready to take arms in his 
 cause, as soon as he has stepped on English 
 ground. By my faith, if plunder is to be 
 our only pay, I would as soon fight for Tudor 
 as for Richard." 
 
 " Your intelligence is false," said the Se- 
 cretary. " The King is well assured this 
 invasion is only a miserable effort, easily to 
 be crushed by a handful of his trusty fol- 
 lowers ; but he is too wise a politician, not 
 to take all possible precautions against 
 danger." 
 
 " Yes, in truth men say, that since his 
 nephews died in the Tower of London, he 
 wears a corselet noon and night, hath his 
 hand still ready to return a blow, and moves 
 his wily eyes for ever round in search of 
 enemies." 
 
 " You seem to hear strange taks in these 
 northern wilds," replied the courtier, " but 
 they are the mere fabrications of the Lan-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 247 
 
 castrians, depend on that, for to one who 
 comes directly from the court they are 
 as new, as fresh money issued from a false 
 coiner's die. I heard of nothing there, but 
 Richard's noble bounties, and the rich loan 
 the citizens of London, with all good will, 
 had given him. Of his success with the 
 rebel Richmond, there cannot be the slight- 
 est doubt, for all the wealth and power of the 
 kingdom are at his disposal. Yet the civil 
 war oners an occasion for the manifestation 
 of loyalty and zeal to his royal person, of 
 which, those who lie under the shadow of 
 old suspicions, or those who wish to win 
 honour at court, will do well to avail them- 
 selves." 
 
 "If you mean to class me with the 
 former,'' answered Conyers coolly, " I tell 
 you frankly, we border troopers have no fear 
 of royal displeasure ; and if, with the latter, 
 learn once for all, that I prefer sleeping on 
 a sheep's skin on a wide moor, to resting on 
 a bed of down, in a royal palace."
 
 248 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " Then why have you thought it worth 
 your while to come hither, in answer to my 
 letter V demanded the courtier. 
 
 " Because my people lack employment at 
 this season, and would be well content if 
 there is fighting going on, to take a part in 
 the fray, provided they are assured of being 
 well paid for their trouble." 
 
 " I have already told you to be tranquil 
 on the score of gain," was Carlton's reply. 
 ''The plunder of the whole kingdom will 
 be open to the King's troops, when once the 
 standard of rebellion is raised, and if you 
 had heard me patiently to the end, you would 
 have known, ere now, the offers of pay which 
 I am authorised to make you, provided you 
 are ready to march in a week with five 
 hundred tall men, in harness and arms, such 
 as are here in use, to join the troops of the 
 Duke of Norfolk, who is marshalling his 
 forces for the King. These are the terms of 
 service," he added, giving another paper to 
 Conyers, as he ceased speaking.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWJf. 249 
 
 The moss-trooper took the paper without 
 answering, and drawing a chair to the table 
 sat down close to the lamp to peruse its 
 contents. 
 
 Carlton watched him with profound at- 
 tention as he did so, not only that he was 
 anxious to observe from his countenance, if 
 he were satisfied with the propositions of the 
 King, which in fact were highly advantage- 
 ous, and such as if possible to elude, he 
 never had any intention to fulfil, but also to 
 discover by a more exact survey of his 
 guest, if he were a man to be trusted in an 
 enterprise of a totally different character. 
 It was an affair, in which he would willingly 
 have been himself the only actor ; but after 
 mature consideration he was convinced that 
 to be certain of success, he had need of aid, 
 such as could be only given by an outlaw 
 like Conyers, and half-a-dozen of his desper- 
 ate companions. He liked the bluntness of 
 this man's discourse — he liked his cautious 
 bargaining for himself and his men. It was 
 M 5
 
 250 THE WARD OF THE CROWlf. 
 
 plainly to be seen, he thought, that no 
 scruples of conscience interfered with his 
 pursuit of gain, when it was once clearly as- 
 sured to hiui. His profession, he was per- 
 suaded, was plunder ; his whole life was 
 devoted to the exercise of lawless might and 
 rapine ; and the reward to be won by the 
 deed to which he wished to tempt him, was 
 so great, that he felt assured, it could not 
 fail to silence the reproaches of any lingering, 
 conscientious feeling in the outlaw's mind. 
 
 But still he hesitated, when Conyers 
 hastily arose, and holding forth his hand as 
 he quickly advanced towards him, exclaimed, 
 " these are brave terms, and I am ready at 
 once to strike a bargain for the King, for 
 such a sum as here is specified." 
 
 Carlton gave him his hand with afi'ected 
 frankness, though he shrunk from the iron 
 grasp of the outlaw. 
 
 " Then you engage," he said, " to join me 
 in a week at Rothbury, with five hundred 
 men 1" 
 
 " Ay ! tall men and true, as ever handled
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 251 
 
 an axe, or drew a bow," returned Conyers, 
 " but I must have our compact signed and 
 sealed, Master Carlton, before I stir a finger 
 in the matter/' 
 
 " That shall be done forthwith !" cried 
 the Secretary, snatching up his pen. 
 
 " And remember, if our pay fails a day," 
 said Conyers, " we go over to the enemy. 
 
 " You shall have full liberty to do so, in 
 such a case ; but I have no fear of your 
 desertion," he replied, looking up as he con- 
 tinued rapidly to complete the copy of the 
 contract desired by the soldier. " In the 
 mean time," he added, after all was finished 
 in due order, " there is another little affair, 
 in which I have pressing need of your as- 
 sistance !" 
 
 " Umph !" was the exclamation of the 
 moss-trooper, as he regarded his host with a 
 keen glance, " and what may that be. Master 
 Carlton T 
 
 " A mere personal business," returned 
 tlie Secretary, " yet one in which the profits 
 will be undoubted and considerable, both to
 
 2S2 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 you and to me. But I acknowledge it is 
 somewhat dangerous, and caution and secrecy 
 are indispensably necessary, not only to 
 secure our success, but our indemnity.'' 
 
 " Are many hands necessarjjif besides our 
 own V 
 
 " The fewer the better ! but I fear in case 
 of surprise, we must have six well-armed 
 men with us.'' 
 
 " Ha ! then there is likely to be fighting f 
 
 " Not much of that, in good sooth, ex- 
 cept with women's tongues, and if you are 
 of my way of thinking, they should be 
 silenced at the very offset of the fray." 
 
 " We moss-troopers wage no war with 
 womankind ! we leave that to you gallant 
 courtiers," said Co^yers with a cold scorn, 
 which in a moment convinced Carlton that 
 he had gone too far. 
 
 " And we only wage it in the way of kind- 
 ness," he hastily replied, anxious to retrieve 
 the fault he had inadvertently committed. 
 
 " Then by th^ mass, what are you driving
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 253 
 
 at, with all this mystery V cried the 
 soldier. 
 
 " At a good rich foray — all in your own 
 way of business, only on this side the border 
 instead of the other," returned his host with 
 a soft laugh. 
 
 " Ah ! ha ! robbery ! if we wish to 
 speak plain language. Am I not right 1" 
 answered the outlaw, without betraying the 
 slightest disgust, or unwillingness to listen 
 further to the Secretary's proposition. 
 
 " Call it what you please," returned the 
 other carelessly, " but when I tell you the 
 enormous amount of the plunder to be divided 
 between us, I imagine you v/ill not quarrel 
 about a name." 
 
 " Nor about the booty neither !" rejoined 
 the outlaw with a soft laugh. " But where 
 is this rich prize to be found V 
 
 " Not far from here !" answered the cour- 
 tier, " but hark !" he cried, suddenly paus- 
 ing, when he heard steps in the adjoining 
 chamber, " Sir Hugh has awoke." 
 
 " Sir Hugh ! by all the saints and devils
 
 254 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 what has the drunken knight to do, playing 
 eaves-dropper at such an hour." 
 
 " He fell asleep, when more than half in- 
 toxicated, in my chamber," was Carlton's 
 hasty reply. 
 
 " Thunder and lightning, Master Secre- 
 tary, why have you carried off the light T 
 at this moment exclaimed the half bewil- 
 dered knight, and they could plainly dis- 
 tinguish that he came stumbling and stag- 
 gering in the dark, towards the door. 
 
 " Conyers, he must not find you here T 
 whispered the Secretary. " Confound him, 
 if he had only left us in peace another 
 quarter of an hour ! his hand is on the lock, 
 and I cannot refuse to open to him. What 
 is to be done T 
 
 " Puff out the light and I can pass him 
 unperceived, and make the best of my way 
 back to the hills !" responded the outlaw, 
 and suiting the action to the word, there 
 was utter darkness in the chamber, when 
 Master Carlton, affecting to awaken from a
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 255 
 
 profound sleep, first answered to the re- 
 peated calls of the Knight. 
 
 " And in the name of fortune, what have 
 you put out the candle for, when we most 
 need it '^" cried Sir Hugh, when he observed 
 the ray, by which he had been guided to 
 the door, disappear from the key-hole. 
 
 " Curse on my awkwardness !'" exclaimed 
 the courtier. " I have upset the lamp in 
 my haste ; but patience, Sir Hugh, patience, 
 I will strike another light in an instant. 
 The flint is on the chimney there without." 
 
 Then, laying his arm upon that of the 
 outlaw before he withdrew the bolt, he 
 whispered clearly and distinctly in his ear, 
 " You must not return here ; but if you 
 wish to hear further, to-morrow evening, at 
 nine o'clock, I will meet you at St. John's 
 Cross." 
 
 " Not there, but I will wait for you at 
 the old stone quarry," answered Conyers, in 
 the sftme .one. 
 
 Carlton started ! he remembered the fear- 
 ful apparition of the preceding night, and
 
 256 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 would gladly have named another place of 
 rendezvous, but it was too late ; he had 
 already turned the key, and Sir Hugh, with 
 loud vociferations, instantly pulled the door 
 wide upon its hinges. 
 
 The moss-trooper sprang forward, in hopes 
 of escaping undetected ; but the Knight 
 groping about with outstretched arms, un- 
 luckily came in contact with his mantle of 
 sheep's-skin, and seizing it with a grasp of 
 iron, exclaimed, " By St. George, have we a 
 wolf in sheep's clothing, or one of the 
 black wooUed devils of Eimside amongst 
 nsr 
 
 " You are dreaming. Sir Hugh," responded 
 the Secretary, adroitly aiding the escape of 
 his visiter from the unmerciful grasp of the 
 Knight, " and if you hold me so tight by 
 the mantle, it will be impossible you can 
 have a light till sunrise." 
 
 " Your mantle ; ay, by my faith, it must 
 be your mantle, for my hands are full of 
 hairs. Yet I thought I heard your voice 
 to the right of me, and I will be sworn there
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 257 
 
 were steps to the left. I have as often seen 
 double in my life, as any other strong 
 Knight north of the Humber, but it is the 
 first time I ever heard double since I was 
 bom." 
 
 " Yet, probably both may arise from the 
 same cause," returned his guest, laughing 
 loudly, and making as much noise as pos- 
 sible, ere he lighted the lamp ; and the 
 Knight, who was always merry, when he had 
 made large potations, joined in his pretended 
 gaiety, with a sincerity and rude glee, which 
 made the walls of the building echo. But 
 he was not so readily deceived as blaster 
 Carlton believed. He had distinctly heard 
 voices, ere he had given any signs of wake- 
 fulness, and when, after the lamp was 
 lighted, he compared the sheep's wool he 
 still held in his hand, with the dark fur on 
 the dress of the Secretary, he laughed far 
 more, at this detection of his hypocrisy, 
 than from any sympathy with his wit. 
 
 Quietly pocketting the piece of wool, as 
 an evidence to be produced on some other
 
 258 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 occasion, he glanced around to observe if 
 any other trace of its wearer remained in 
 the chamber, well convinced that to question 
 Master Carlton, was only to betray his sus- 
 picions, without procuring any satisfaction 
 for his curiosity. That his guest carried 
 on many intrigues, of which he was igno- 
 rant, he had long been convinced, and that 
 he had the right to do so, he was ready to 
 admit ; but that he should receive secret 
 visits at midnight, under his roof, and 
 one who, by his sheep-skin garb, was, pro- 
 bably, a moss-trooper, was more than he 
 could submit to in patient ignorance, espe- 
 cially when the extreme duplicity made use 
 of, led him to suspect that some mischief 
 was plotting against himself. 
 
 Carlton believed that by furnishing the 
 Knight with money in his moments of ur- 
 gent necessity, he had him entirely at his 
 command ; but Sir Hugh was not a man to 
 place himself knowingly in the power of any 
 living creature, and he well knew, when he 
 incurred these obligations, that he had a
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 259 
 
 means of extricating himself always at com- 
 mand, of which the courtier, with all his 
 cunning, had not the remotest suspicion. 
 
 His brief sleep, and the circumstances ac- 
 companying his awakening, had once more 
 given him the entire command over his 
 faculties, and instead, therefore, of returning 
 to his own chamber, he remained to arrange 
 with his guest, the means necessary to for- 
 ward his marriage with Ellen, which, for 
 various reasons, they had both sincerely at 
 heart. They were equally convinced of the 
 necessity of putting an end to her intimacy 
 with Hubert ; and Carlton strongly urged 
 that the youth should be removed from the 
 neighbourhood by force, if he persisted in 
 his refusal to enter a monastery. 
 
 But to this Sir Hugh had his own private 
 reasons for refusing his consent. Though he 
 loved not Hubert Saville, he had learnt of 
 late years to consider his existence as of in- 
 estimable value to himself ; and however he 
 might find it expedient to conduct himself 
 towards him, he was resolved never to trust 
 him to the tender mercies of Master Carlton.
 
 260 THE WARD OF THE CROWJIf. 
 
 Of all this he said not a word to the 
 courtier, but proposed a plan of immediate 
 action, which met his most cordial approba- 
 tion ; and when they parted near the dawn 
 of day, it was with the warmest expressions 
 of friendship and cordiality, though they 
 internally wished each other at the bottom of 
 the sea.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW^'. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 It is jiftain thafe Sir Hugh Collingwood took 
 no repose during the remainder of that 
 night, for he was seen by a shepherd leav- 
 ing the dwelling of Father Ambrose before 
 the sun had risen. 
 
 Neither were the eyes of Master Carlton 
 closed in sleep. He was distracted by a 
 thousand changing thoughts of the past and 
 the future. The apparition of Marion in 
 the wood, gleaming dimly and fearfully
 
 262 THE WARD OF THE CROW^T. 
 
 between the flame and the smoke of the 
 faggot fire, returned again and again with 
 fearful distinctness, before his eyes, yet even 
 less appalling than the horrible train of re- 
 collections it awakened in his mind. During 
 transient feelings of remorse, when he re- 
 membered the horrible past, he half repented 
 the ruthless plans he had laid for the 
 destruction of Ellen's happiness — he half 
 hesitated in his heartless design of blighting 
 her whole existence, as he had once before 
 seared and withered the heart, of another 
 fair and innocent being. But his habits of 
 evil were too strong for such feelings to be 
 more than momentary, like the lightning 
 that burns as it passes ; and quickly remem- 
 bering the vast property to which he should 
 become heir by a marriage with his victim, 
 he directed his mind with the most profound 
 intensity, to the arrangement of the Afferent 
 means necessary for the accomplishment of 
 this object. 
 
 Money — money — money — was the first 
 thing necessary. He had advanced large
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW^'. 263 
 
 sums to Sir Hugh ; he had recently been 
 obliged to contribute considerably to a loan 
 made by the king ; and several lords and 
 gentlemen to whom he had lent money on 
 large interest, had suddenly fled from the 
 Court to Brittany, to get rid of their debts 
 by joining the party of the Earl of Richmond. 
 He had many agents in his pay, whose de- 
 mands could never be neglected without 
 danger ; and all he had hitherto expended 
 might prove fruitless, could he not immedi- 
 ately procure a supply of ready money. 
 
 From Sir Hugh there was nothing imme- 
 diately to be got ; his lands could not be sold; 
 dela^^s attended his marriage with Ellen ; 
 Lady Isabel's jewels, and Lady Lady Isabel's 
 hoarded savings, afforded the sole means of 
 satisfying his rapacity. An undefined idea 
 of obtaining possession of this treasure, by 
 fraud, or force, had, for several months, been 
 floating in his mind, though the narrative of 
 Peggy, for the first time, placed the practi- 
 ca*bility of such a robbery, fully and clearly 
 before him.
 
 264 THE WARD OF THE CROWN". 
 
 Master Carlton was not a coward, and he 
 hesitated not from any personal fear, but be- 
 cause even his evil and avaricious heart, 
 recoiled from so base a deed. Aware of the 
 bad reputation of the men of Redesdale, 
 who were generally considered as prompt 
 for every lawless act, he had determined to 
 engage the aid of Conyers ; but the manner 
 in which the outlaw received his half con- 
 fidence, shook his resolution. On later re- 
 flection he felt convinced, that this man's 
 manner was too independent, for him to 
 venture to place himself further in his power, 
 and he decided, that when they again met, 
 he would put some false interpretation on 
 the words he had uttered with regard to the 
 robbery. Yet he was still decided to get 
 speedy possession of the plunder, fearful 
 lest Sir Hugh might be beforehand with him, 
 or that in the approaching confusion of the 
 country, the moss-troopers or the Scots, 
 excited by the current tales of the old lady's 
 treasure, might seize it by force of arms. 
 
 He was deeply engrossed by such reflec-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 265 
 
 tions, when the door of his chamber was 
 cautiously unclosed, and his principal domes- 
 tic made his appearance. He was a hard, 
 thin featured man, approaching fifty, with a 
 long, sharp nose and chin, and a perpetual 
 smile upon his leathern lips, which nature 
 however contradicted, by the sinister expres- 
 sion of his fox-like eyes, which glanced 
 upwards from the corners, with a most mali- 
 cious twinkle, and never looked an honest 
 man directly in the face. Miles Forrest, had 
 been in Carlton's service for ten years, but 
 after tte death of Edward the Fifth and 
 his brother in the Tower, in 1483, with which 
 event, later historians have connected Iiis 
 name ; he was suddenly raised from a low 
 and menial office, to be the personal attendant 
 and confidant of the Secretary. He had 
 at all times proved himself a cunning, as 
 well as courageous servant, where anything 
 was to be won. He had done Carlton ser- 
 vice even in his youth, in return for which, 
 the gentleman had saved him from a scaffold 
 during the civil wars ; and whenever Rich- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 THE WARD OF TKE CROWK. 
 
 ard the Third had employed his Secretary 
 in any of those infamous affairs which 
 raised him to the throne, Forrest had been 
 found an excellent agent. 
 
 " Good morrow, Master Carlton," he said 
 as he entered, " I trust all has proved true ; I 
 told you about Marston Conyers, and he has 
 the sense to accept service with so noble and 
 generous a gentleman !" 
 
 " We have agreed for five hundred men, 
 Forrest,^' was the reply. " His manners are 
 somewhat rude and abrupt, but I count there- 
 fore the more on his fidelity." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, sir," said the 
 sycophant, " for you have a wonderful dis- 
 crimination in these matters ; but I trust, 
 though my beard is somewhat smoother 
 shorn, and my voice by nature less harsh, 
 you have never had reason to doubt my 
 sincerity." 
 
 " Never !" answered the Secretary, " but 
 no two men are alike, nor can we judge of 
 characters by rules ; what is true of one is 
 false of another! Nay, no man is at all
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIS'. 267 
 
 times consistent — for example — though I be- 
 lieve you like a glass of good wine as well 
 as any man within Temple Bar, yet you most 
 unmercifully spoilt a whole butt of excellent 
 Malmsey by thrusting therein the carcase of 
 George Clarence." 
 
 " But, by St. Anthony, I had first taken 
 the precaution to draw off a half a dozen 
 flagons to drink to his happy passage to the 
 next world." 
 
 " I doubt it not," said Carlton, " for to be 
 plain with you, Miles, the habit of strong 
 potations, was at one time gaining fearfully 
 upon you ; and you should never forget, that 
 when a man has secrets in his heart, he 
 should keep a strong padlock on his mouth. 
 When too much enters, too much may come 
 out." 
 
 " You are right — perfectly right. Sir," re- 
 plied Forrest, " there was a time, when to 
 drown care, I was on the point of marring 
 my fortunes by the fool's sin of drinking, but 
 thanks to your wise counsels, JVIaster Carlton 
 — I stopped in time, to save my brains, and 
 If 3
 
 268 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 my secrets, and I have doubly reason to 
 be grateful to my generous benefactor." 
 
 " In truth, I have had no cause to com- 
 plain of you for some time past," said his 
 master, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on 
 his companion, whose flatteries, vile as he 
 was, had become familiar and agreeable, 
 for it is not unfrequently the case, that 
 men who intrigue for their equals or supe- 
 riors, are themselves the dupes of some low 
 creature they despise. 
 
 " And never shall again," answered Miles, 
 " I would rather make a vow that nothing 
 stronger than water should ever again pass 
 my lips, than run the risk of betraying the 
 secrets of the master to whom I owe my life." 
 
 " This resolution gives me great plea- 
 sure," said Carlton, " for at this very moment 
 I have an affair in hand, in which I have 
 need of jonv aid, and where such infinite 
 caution and circumspection will be necessary, 
 that, remembering this old failing of yours, 
 I have hesitated to take you into my con- 
 fidence."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 269 
 
 " Ha ! blaster Carlton ! if there is money 
 to be got, have no fears of me !" 
 
 " Yes, there is monej to be got, and 
 plenty ! The profits will amount to many 
 thousand royals. But before I disclose 
 further, I must have your solemn oath of 
 secresy and fidelity." 
 
 " K there be as much to be gained as 
 you sa} ," answered the domestic, '•' it is 
 scarcely necessary. But I am ready to do as 
 you please," and taking a crucifix from the 
 wall, he gave the required oath, " By the 
 mass, sir," he continued after he had per- 
 formed this ceremony, " I am glad you have 
 got some game on the wing ; I know not how 
 we should get over the time hero, without the 
 excitement of a little adventure ! I should 
 have been driven to the brandy bottle in 
 spite of myself. But I am all curiosity to 
 learn particulars. Are we to turn traitors, 
 or are we only to hatch a false plot, and 
 hang half a dozen northern gentlemen, to 
 get possession of their forfeited estates." 
 
 " No, no, that trick is too stale," returned
 
 270 THE WARD OF THE CROWl?l. 
 
 the Secretary, " and too slow in being 
 brought to bear. My plan is this ! You 
 know Sir Hugh Collingwood has a mother. 
 She is a confoundedly obstinate old woman, 
 whom even the Knight cannot persuade to 
 believe, her eldest son is dead, without 
 children ; so she keeps possession for him, 
 of all the precious jewels and heir-looms of 
 her family. For more than twenty years 
 she has lived in mourning and sorrow, hoard- 
 ing all the rents of her estates. Sir Hugh 
 might starve, or die in a prison for debt, 
 before she would advance him a farthing. I 
 have reason to believe all these treasures are 
 kept in her house, indeed I have accurate 
 information as to the spot where they are 
 concealed, and I consider there will be no 
 very heavy sin incurred, by putting this dead 
 capital in circulation for the benefit of 
 society.'' 
 
 " No, by our Lady !" cried Forrest, *' the 
 old woman will never know the want 
 of it." 
 
 " That is what I think," said Carlton,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 271 
 
 • 
 
 " and Sir Hugh is a confounded fool, that 
 he has not taken possession of it long ago. 
 But however, so much the better for us, for 
 I give jou my word of honour, Forrest, that 
 to whatever sum it may amount, one third 
 shall be yours, if we come off securely with 
 our spoil." 
 
 " Oh, Master Carlton you are too gener- 
 ous !" cried the wily Miles, " one fourth 
 would have contented me, more especially 
 as the sum total is so great. But when 
 do you intend the attempt should be 
 made T 
 
 " To-night, at latest ! not a creature 
 sleeps in the house save Lady Isabel and 
 her maid ; there is not a dwelling within 
 a mile round, and were they to scream 
 like eagles, the hills alone could hear 
 them." 
 
 " You know, you say, where the treasure 
 
 lies r 
 
 " On the ground floor," was the reply ; 
 " and mark me, Forrest, you must find means 
 to convey thither, dry wood and straw
 
 272 THE WARD OF THE CROWJS'. 
 
 » 
 
 enough to set fire to the house, and then no 
 man will be the wiser." 
 
 " What ! and burn the women in their 
 beds ? You are fond of burning it seems, 
 Master Carlton !" exclaimed therufiian, even 
 his blood-thirsty nature recoiling from such 
 a deed. 
 
 " The smoke will stifle them," returned 
 his master, whose cheek, at the last words of 
 his servant, had become suddenly as pale as 
 death, and then changed as red as fire, whilst 
 his flashing eye betrayed that he with dif- 
 ficulty curbed his rage, to answer tran- 
 quilly. 
 
 '• Yet, in case of surprise, it would be 
 best to have a well armed man to help us, 
 whilst another should keep watch with- 
 out," answered Forrest, not appearing to 
 notice his master's agitation, of which he 
 well knew the cause. " The groom, Tom 
 Eeed, and Will Ainsley of Eothbury, may 
 well be trusted," he added ; " they have 
 both done you good service ere now, and 
 will neither ask questions, nor tell tales."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 273 
 
 " It is true, Tom is a dull lout," said 
 the courtier. " He knows nothing of the 
 country, and will be ignorant whither we 
 lead him. You have only to tell him to 
 keep a strict watch and to strike down 
 all comers whilst we are within — but 
 Ainsley — " 
 
 " Is my own cousin and I will answer for 
 his fidelity," was Forrest's reply. 
 
 " But there is a dog," said Master Carl- 
 ton, '' I saw the lazy old cur before the 
 door this morning ; it looks as if it slept in 
 my Lady's chamber." 
 
 " That is bad," replied the servant, " were 
 he left to prowl about on the outside of 
 the house, at night, I would engage to 
 silence him in two minutes ; but within the 
 walls, it is another matter ; we must catch 
 him by day-light, or be prepared to silence 
 him and his mistress with the same 
 dagger." 
 
 " There would be no harm in that either," 
 was Carlton's caustic reply. " But I leave 
 these matters to you." 
 N 5
 
 274 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " You are right, sir — very right. These 
 little things are more in my way, and be 
 assured, they shall not be neglected. Twelve 
 o'clock at night, shall I say '? and combus- 
 tibles — there must be some about the place 
 — Dry heather, or straw, or somewhat to 
 make the oli lady's pot boil. I must see 
 to all that, by day-light." 
 
 " But take heed you excite no suspicions,'' 
 returned the Secretary. 
 
 " I come too far north, for that," answered 
 Forrest, whilst an expression of delight 
 shone from his twinkling eyes, at the pros- 
 pect, of so speedily having an opportunity 
 for exercising his faculties for deception andi 
 roguery. 
 
 " I shall only request leave of absence till 
 the evening, to make my arrangements." 
 
 " The day is entirely at your disposition, 
 only fail not to be here, an hour before mid- 
 night ; and if you have an opportunity keep 
 an eye on the movements of a youth who 
 goes often to the Manor House ; one Hubert
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW^^ 275 
 
 Saville, who dwells with the old priest, at 
 the village." 
 
 " Master Carlton you shall have reason to 
 say to-morrow, that Miles Forrest is a cun- 
 ning dog," was the answer ; " but I will 
 now descend to brush your doublet, that the 
 louts in the household may have no sus- 
 picions, and then wish them farewell, as if 
 I were going for a couple of days to make 
 merry with my friends above Elsden/' 
 
 " And I, meanwhile, will try to take an 
 hour's repose," said his master. " Give 
 orders that I am not disturbed till after 
 eight o'clock, and say I shall not ride before 
 dinner." 
 
 " All shall be done at your desire," an- 
 swered the servant ; " and let no further 
 care disturb your rest, blaster Carlton, for 
 you have put a faithful dog on the scent, 
 who will not fail to hunt down the game." 
 
 " Is my breast-plate unpacked '?" de- 
 manded the gentleman. " I shall have need 
 of it under my doublet."
 
 276 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " Your armour hangs all ready, in your 
 closet," he replied. 
 
 " It is well, good Forrest ! and now fare- 
 well, but, mark me, forget not my advice 
 about the wine flask,'' said the Secretary, 
 as his domestic was about to leave the 
 room. " That fellow would be worth his 
 weight in gold, if he had never tasted 
 brandy," was the thought that crossed 
 his mind, as he threw himself on his 
 bed to endeavour to take a short re- 
 pose. 
 
 " A very likely thing indeed that I should 
 every day put my neck in jeopardy for his 
 cursed avarice and ambition, and forswear 
 my own innocent pleasures, at his bidding," 
 was on the other hand the first reflection of 
 Forrest, as he descended the stairs. " When 
 I had not a groat in the world, to bless my- 
 self, it was a time to be sober ; but I have 
 not been such an ass as to steep my hands 
 in blood, to drink nothing but Avater all my 
 life ; and cunning as you think yourself, Mas- 
 ter Carlton, I should be a confounded fool,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 277 
 
 if I could not throw dust in your eyes, from 
 time to time. Ah flattery — flattery — what 
 a soothing unction thou art, that thou canst 
 lull the sharpest wits, as sure as a doctor's 
 potion. For my own sake, however, I must 
 go to work prudently, this time at least, for 
 the prize, it seems, is worth winning by a 
 day's abstinence. It will pay for many a 
 day's potations," and with this conviction, 
 he forthwith began to prepare for the work 
 he had in hand. 
 
 His mother, an old woman in the last 
 stage of decrepitude, still lived in the vil- 
 lage, and to her cottage his steps were first 
 directed. It was a miserable place, with no 
 light but what entered through the door 
 and the holes in the thatched roof, whence 
 the rain was dripping, with a monotonous, 
 plashing noise, on the uneven earthen floor. 
 Two narrow slits in the wall had been meant 
 te serve as windows and chimney, but as 
 the old woman's blood was chill, and eastern 
 winds blew strongly from the coast, they 
 were stufied up with rags and straw, and
 
 278 THE WARP OF THE CROWN. 
 
 the smoke curling round the black rafters of 
 the roof, escaped partly by the holes in the 
 thatch, and partly by the door. 
 
 When Miles Forrest entered, his mother 
 was sitting beside the fire, vacantly watching 
 the blazing faggots. She was a thin, withered, 
 toothless crone, whose grey locks were 
 drawn back tightly under a linen kerchief, 
 and whose garments were threadbare and 
 dirty. She had once been an active house- 
 wife, but seventy years of toil and hard 
 living, had weakened her mind, even more 
 than her body, and since the day when her 
 husband was slain before her door, by a 
 party of Scottish foragers, she had pined 
 away in sorrow, and poverty, till she now 
 seemed just hovering between life and death. 
 In truth, it seemed, as if her soul had al- 
 ready departed to the land of rest, and only 
 re-visited her body at intervals, bringing 
 with it, like a flash of light, the remem- 
 brance of the past. Her son, who from his 
 childhood, had been, by his dissolate con- 
 duct, a source of trouble to his parents, had
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 279 
 
 long left her to her miserable lot, and a 
 visit he paid her, on his return to the north, 
 with Carlton, was the first she had seen, or 
 heard of him, for many years. 
 
 She now looked up with a vacant stare, 
 as he entered, and though the increased 
 tremour of her head, proved he was recog- 
 nized, she gave no sign of pleasure, and 
 scarcely returned his salutation. 
 
 " Do you not know me, mother ?' he 
 said. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " I know thee too 
 well, thou herb of little grace ! why have 
 you not left me to die in peace T 
 
 " Because forsooth, I have a question to 
 ask you, if you have still wit enough to 
 answer me. What have you done with old 
 Peter's clothes, since the Scots knocked out 
 his brains T 
 
 Barbara raised her • head at the sound of 
 her husband's name, and cast a searching 
 glance at the speaker, as if she would fain 
 understand his meaning. 
 
 " Aye, don't you hear me !" he cried.
 
 280 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " what have you done with the old man's 
 clothes ? was the question I asked." 
 
 " They are not sold," she returned, vdth 
 a hoarse and bitter laugh. " No. not sold ! 
 they are all in the oak trunk, as safe as on 
 iiis dying day, so thou need not expect any 
 money !" 
 
 " And a pretty sum I should get if I did," 
 returned the worthless fellow with a sneer. 
 " No, no, thank the saints, I have no need of 
 cash, or I should not come here, I promise 
 you," and without saying more, he turned 
 towards the trunk to which his mother had 
 pointed, and with some difficulty, raised the 
 lid on its rusty hinges. 
 
 "Miles! by the Holy Mother, what art 
 thou doing T cried the wretched widow, 
 starting from her seat with a vivacity, of 
 which she had before appeared incapable, 
 when she beheld her worthless son take, one 
 after another, the patched garments of her 
 lost husband, from their hiding place, and 
 cast them on the moist and dirty ground. 
 
 " Miles ! Miles !" she cried, " I have
 
 THE WARD OF THE CHOWK". 281 
 
 dusted and folded them every Sunday morn- 
 ing since he died, and is that a way to 
 treat them, when he that wore them is in 
 the grave V 
 
 " Folded and dusted them !" he returned 
 with a sneering laugh, " they were well 
 worth the trouble certainly, and a goodly 
 inheritance I have reaped ; but no matter, 
 they will serve my turn, worthless as they 
 are, and to save you further anxiety, I will 
 carry them with me at once." 
 
 " What, rob me of my good man's clothes, 
 no, no. Miles, they can be nothing to thee, 
 though when I look at them, I could almost 
 think they had a soul ! and I can talk to 
 them for the hour together. No, no, thou 
 wilt leave me them. Miles I" 
 
 "1 tell you I have need of them," an- 
 swered the unfeeling fellow, with the same 
 cool indifference, as before, " there is money 
 to buy you a new kirtle, worth ten of 
 these old rags/' 
 
 " Keep thy money, I have no need of it," 
 she replied, pushing aside the proffered coin.
 
 282 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 " What can money buy for me in this weary 
 world, now my good man hath departed. 
 It cannot bring him out of the grave — but 
 the clothes, I must and will have. I spun 
 them myself, I wove them myself, and he 
 wore them many, and many a happy day, 
 till we grew old together.'' 
 
 "And they too it seems," rejoined her 
 son, " but he has done with them now, 
 at all events and I want them so you may 
 bid them farewell, for this is the last you 
 will ever see of them." 
 
 "Oh, Miles, Miles! art thou indeed my 
 son !" she cried in an unearthly voice, as she 
 grasped his arm with her withered hands. 
 " Canst thou indeed, hear unmoved, the prayer 
 of the mother that bore thee, and worse than 
 a common robber, tear from her, the only 
 things on earth to which her heart still 
 clings. Lonely, poor, old and widowed, as 
 as I am, hast thou the heart to take from 
 me this poor comfort '? must the weeks come 
 and go, and I find the coffer ever empty. 
 But fool, fool, who am I speaking to, he 
 has no heart, he never loved — no, not even
 
 THE WARD OF THE CR0W2f. 283 
 
 when a child !" and the desolate creature 
 sunk on her knees in the middle of the 
 wretched hovel, and hiding her face with 
 her withered hands, wept as she had not 
 done for years. 
 
 Forrest in the meanwhile completed his 
 work, and was about to depart, when as 
 he passed near his mother, she suddenly 
 ceased weeping, and seized hold of his 
 mantle. 
 
 "I pray thee at least leave me the 
 shepherd's plaid," she said in an imploring 
 voice, " he wore it on his wedding-day, and 
 it is stained with his blood !" 
 
 " Nonsense," he exclaimed trying to push 
 by her, " I am weary of this folly. Get up 
 I say ! Whoever expected to hear such a 
 confounded botheration about a bundle of 
 old rags. Get up I tell you, and be quiet." 
 
 " Yes I will get up," she answered, arising 
 as she spoke, " but it shall be to utter a 
 curse upon thy head ! never from this hour 
 will I count thee as a son of mine, and never 
 will I henceforth name thy name, save to
 
 284 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 curse the hour of thy birth, the breast that 
 suckled thee, and all the remaining days of 
 thy life, which thou hast devoted to wicked- 
 ness and crime. Friends mayst thou have 
 none, gold mayst thou never keep, and may 
 the punishment thy guilt deserves, come in 
 fulfilment of a mother's curse, dark a,nd 
 fearfully upon thee, ere I die ; and when the 
 hangman's cord is round thy neck, mayst 
 thou plead for life, and plead in vain, as I 
 have done to thee." 
 
 The withered form of the old woman 
 trembled with passion, as she pronounced 
 this fearful malediction on her only child. 
 Even Forrest shuddered, but he made no 
 reply. He cast one glance at the evil pro- 
 p^ietess, as if he would gladly have crushed 
 her to the earth, and then hurried away, to 
 pursue an enterprise commenced under such 
 evil auspices. 
 
 The purpose which Forrest had in view, 
 in thus possessing himself of the wretched 
 clothing of a northern peasant, was that of 
 disguising himself in such a manner, that
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 285 
 
 he might enter the house of Lady Isabel, 
 and make the observations he deemed neces- 
 rarj, without exciting suspicion. In order 
 to do so, he passed directly from the cottage 
 to a small fir copse, on the hill, about a 
 mile off, where he speedily effected a change 
 of apparel. He left his usual attire, rolled 
 up in his mantle, in a hollow tree, and 
 when he emerged from the bushes, attired 
 in his father's wretched garments, with straw 
 bands round his legs instead of stockings, 
 and a great oaken stick in his hand. Master 
 Carlton himself, could scarely have recognized 
 him. 
 
 With rapid steps he then hurried to the 
 Manor House, which lay in the plain be- 
 neath. The old dog failed not to announce 
 his arrival, with loud clamour, as he entered 
 the court-yard, but a morsel of meat he 
 threw to it, speedily quieted its rage, and he 
 approached the house without further moles- 
 tation. 
 
 The door of the Lady of the Manor was 
 ever open to the poor ; she never denied
 
 286 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 relief to the passing traveller, for she 
 thought of her own lost son, who might per- 
 chance, in foreign lands, have need of aid, 
 and she never allowed a beggar to petition 
 in vain at her gate. 
 
 Old Hannah, her servant, was her almoner 
 on these occasions, and as usual, Forrest was 
 immediately admitted to the kitchen, and 
 the good woman busied herself in preparing 
 him a mess of porridge. Whilst she was 
 thus employed, he had sufficient time to take 
 an accurate survey of all the bolts and 
 fastenings, likely to obstruct the midnight 
 entrance of himself and his master. His 
 quick eye soon detected, that a small door 
 opening from a buttery into the yard beyond, 
 had fallen greatly into decay. Its hinges 
 were rusty, and half loosened from the wall, 
 and it was evident, it would be no difficult 
 task, to force it inwards near the same place, 
 was fuel in abundance, and fully satisfied by 
 the result of his observations, he arose as 
 soon as his meal was finished, and wished 
 the old hotllekeeper farewell.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 287 
 
 Observing that she stood upon the thresh- 
 old and watched his movements, as he 
 re-crossed the court, he was obliged to pass 
 the gate, without making any effort to entice 
 away the dog, although scenting the remain- 
 der of the food he carried in his pocket, 
 it followed him to the outer path. Hannah, 
 however, quickly called it back into the 
 court. 
 
 Forrest no sooner saw her disappear, than 
 he laid himself down in a ditch behind a wall, 
 to await an opportunity of accomplishing his 
 purpose. When after a quarter of an hour he 
 returned to look up, the dog was lying half 
 sleeping in the sunshine before tlie house 
 door, the housekeeper was no longer to be 
 seen, passing and repassing in the kitchen, 
 not a living creature was stirring save the 
 pigeons walking with pride about the court, 
 picking up seeds between the stones of the 
 old pavement. The dog gave a low growl, 
 when Forrest again approached the gate, but 
 the bait was ready in his hand, and the poor
 
 288 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 animal recognizing a friend, ran wagging his 
 tail towards him. 
 
 In another moment a noose was round his 
 ."«jeek. It was drawn with no relenting 
 hand ; a struggle and a shudder, and its 
 voice was silenced for ever. 
 
 Miles thrust the dead animal into his 
 empty pack, and pursued his way, convinced 
 that no human eye had witnessed the act. 
 But he was mistaken, at least as far as 
 regarded the commencement of his proceed- 
 ings. 
 
 Marston Conyers had come to the Manor 
 House that morning, to communicate to Lady 
 Isabel the progress of an important affair, 
 in which he had been employed by her, for 
 some time. The outlaw, whilst sitting near 
 a window of a small room on the second 
 story, had seen all that passed. The appear- 
 ance of Forrest as he entered, and the fact 
 of his throwing food to the dog, had at once 
 struck him as extraordinary, and though he 
 said nothing, he kept a vigilant eye on 
 him, as he departed. He saw him creep into
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 289 
 
 the ditch, and he was still lying there when 
 old Hannah entered the room, declaring that 
 if she had not seen the ghost of old Joe 
 Forrest, she had certainly seen the ghost of 
 his clothes, that she could swear to the 
 patch on his right elbow, and the plaid 
 which was stained with his blood. 
 
 She hoped nothing had happened to his 
 widow, who since his death had stored up 
 his clothes, as if they were a priest's em- 
 broidered garments. 
 
 " Her son, who is in the service of Master 
 Carlton, has come with him to the north, has 
 he not T demanded Conyers with apparent 
 carelessness. 
 
 " Ay, the shameless varlet," cried the old 
 woman. " Though men say he has made a 
 fortune, with all the black deeds he has 
 done, he has never sent his father, or liis 
 mother the value of a groat to save them 
 from starving. But my lady is ready to see 
 you." 
 
 " I will go to her instantly," returned the 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 290 THE WARD OF THE CROW]N\ 
 
 moss-trooper. " I have business in hand, 
 which makes me anxious to be off." 
 
 Nearly an hour passed, ere the interview 
 of the outlaw and his hostess was at an end, 
 and he could then discover no traces of 
 Forrest. But this man's visit in disguise to 
 the Manor House, combined with Master 
 Carlton's mysterious proposition on the pre- 
 vious night, had excited suspicions in his 
 mind, which made him resolve to postpone all 
 other affairs, and to linger in the neighbour- 
 hood, during the remainder of the day, in 
 hopes that chance might come in aid of 
 vigilance, and assist him to make further dis- 
 coveries. 
 
 It was the hour of dinner, when as he was 
 sitting on the bench in front of the village 
 inn, he saw Forrest approaching in his or- 
 dinary attire. At once his plan was formed. 
 
 Forrest, who had come thither for the sole 
 purpose of hearing the gossip of the village, 
 with regard to Lady Isabel's treasure, and to 
 spread tales concerning a band of Scotch
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 291 
 
 robbers, who had crossed the Tweed, and 
 plundered several houses and farms, was 
 greatly annoyed when he saw Conyers ad- 
 vancing to give him welcome, and yet more 
 so, when the outlaw, out of professed grati- 
 tude for his help in making a favourable ar- 
 rangement for service with Master Carlton, 
 invited him to share his mid-day repast. 
 
 Nevertheless, the temptation of good 
 cheer, at another man's expense was not to 
 be resisted, and Forrest consoled himself, as 
 he took his seat at the dinner table, by the 
 reflection that he had already done all that 
 was essentially necessary in his masters 
 service. 
 
 "It is my turn now," he thought, " never- 
 theless I must be on my guard with the 
 wine-cup." 
 
 But once commenced, it was a difficult matter 
 for him to keep this resolution, and it was 
 soon proved, that with a jovial companion 
 like Conyers, who had his own ends in push- 
 ing the bottle, it was utterly impossible. As 
 his faculties became less clear, the moss- 
 3
 
 292 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 
 
 trooper found means to mix jet stronger 
 drinks with his wine, till bj degrees, he 
 brought him up exactly to that happy point 
 of garrulous content, when the heart unlocks 
 its most precious secrets, and the lips of the 
 hypocrite, in spite of himself, pronounce the 
 words of truth. 
 
 Then it was, that he succeeded in draw- 
 ing from the intoxicated serving man, the 
 whole particulars of Master Carlton's medi- 
 tated attack on the Manor House — broken 
 and confused — yet sufficiently clear, for one 
 of his quick intellect fully to comprehend 
 all that was to be dreaded and guarded 
 against. 
 
 It was very much what he had suspected, 
 and he was only surprised to find, that Sir 
 Hugh had no share in the undertaking. He 
 saw, therefore, that violence was the more 
 to be dreaded, and his anxiety to frustrate 
 the Secretary's infamous design was propor- 
 tionally great. 
 
 The better to reflect on the steps neces-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWI^. 293 
 
 sary to be taken in such an emergency, he 
 allowed the drunkard, after his tale was told, 
 to fall into a profound slumber, and then 
 gliding from the Hostelry, he hurried in 
 search of those, of whose assistance he had 
 need, to accomplish his plans.
 
 294 THE WARD OF THE CROWIT. 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 When Hubert arose, on the morning after 
 his interview with Ellen, it appeared as if 
 his whole character was changed. The 
 quiet and resolute perseverance, which had 
 hitherto sustained him through his laborious 
 and monotonous existence, was now at an 
 end. The assurance of Ellen's love, had 
 opened for him a future, such as he had 
 never before dared to anticipate ; dreams of 
 happiness and honour came thick upon him,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 295 
 
 and aroused all the slumbering faculties and 
 energies of his nature. He felt that he had 
 much to win, but that if Ellen's hand were 
 to be the reward of his success, he had 
 courage, and strength, and ardour, to enter 
 without delay, heart and soul, into the wild 
 struggle of life. 
 
 For two hours after sunrise he patiently 
 worked to complete a manuscript, a small 
 portion of the payment for which, was to be 
 his own ; he then descended to the break- 
 fast table of Father Ambrose, resolved if the 
 subject of his entering a monastery was again 
 mentioned, to announce his intention of 
 quitting his house without further delay. 
 
 He found the Vicar unusually grave. His 
 servant had gone forth into the village, and 
 they were alone in the cottage. Their hum- 
 ble meal was eaten in silence, but when 
 Hubert, at its conclusion, arose to return to 
 his chamber, the priest, with evident agita- 
 tion, laid his hand on his arm, and said with 
 a trembling voice, that he wished to speak 
 with him on business of importance.
 
 296 THE WARD OF THE CROW]!^. 
 
 " Not the Monk's frock again, I trust,'' 
 was the young man's reply. 
 
 " 'No/' returned the Vicar, " we will leave 
 that to another time, though I must now tell 
 you some circumstances, which may probably 
 make you at last admit, that there are per- 
 sons living, who have a right to command 
 your destiny." 
 
 " In my present position, I recognize 
 none such I" was the youth's haughty 
 reply. 
 
 " Hear me \" answered his host. " Your 
 opinion may be greatly changed, before I 
 finish my discourse. You probably remem- 
 ber, that in an imprudent moment, I be- 
 trayed the pleasure the arrival of Sir Hugh 
 Collingwuod gave me, as I trusted, no further 
 obstacle would then prevent your entering 
 the church. You questioned me sharply as 
 to the right he had to direct your profession 
 — you pressed hard for me to give you 
 some information as to your birth, and 
 parentage."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWI^. 297 
 
 " I remember !" said the youth, whose 
 curiosity was now powerfully excited. 
 
 " At that time," continued Father Am- 
 brose, '' I had no right to do so. ^ly lips 
 were sealed by a solemn oath of secrecy." 
 
 " And now V exclaimed Hubert with wild 
 eagerness. 
 
 " The bond is broken," was the reply. 
 " I have full liberty to announce to you, 
 that the man to whom you are indebted for 
 your life, your education, and your support, 
 is Sir Hugh Collingwood." 
 
 " What do I hear V cried the young man 
 in a voice of horror, whilst pale as death, he 
 grasped the arm of the priest. " Sir Hugh 
 Collingwood, my patron V 
 
 " More than a patron — a father !" was 
 
 the reply. 
 
 Hubert started back as if a shot; had 
 pierced his heart, as ihese fatal words fell on 
 his ear. His whole frame shook with a 
 fearful convulsion, and he must have fallen 
 to the ground, had he not seized a project- 
 ing corner of the wall for support. " Father 
 5
 
 298 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 of mercy ! Ellen my sister !" were the 
 only words that broke from his trembling 
 lips, and sinking back on a seat, he covered 
 his face with his hands, and sat for some 
 minutes silent and motionless as a statue, 
 lost in the whirlwind of terrible thoughts 
 that rushed upon him. 
 
 The priest, cold and calm as was his 
 nature, was himself appalled by a spectacle 
 of mental agony, such as he had never before 
 witnessed. The tumult of unconstrained 
 and youthful passion hath in its power, and 
 its self-forge tfulness, a grandeur which awes 
 and stills all feebler spirits ! But the old 
 man had no pity for the pangs he had ex- 
 cited, and after he had gazed for a few 
 minutes with wonder on the agony of the 
 youth, he continued, " Yes, Ellen Colling- 
 wood is your sister, and yet thou, sinner as 
 thou art, hast dared to taint the maiden's 
 virtuous ear with thy base tales of vile, 
 incestuous passion. Thou hast lured her 
 from her father's house, thou hast taught her 
 to reject a rich and honorable suitor, that
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIs^ 299 
 
 she might wed with thee, forsooth — a 
 beggar — and her brother — her base-born 
 brother T 
 
 " By the mass ! this is not to be borne ! 
 and did not thy silver hair and holy garb 
 protect thee, Father Ambrose, thou shouldst 
 not live to repeat such insults," exclaimed 
 the youth, starting from his seat with wildly 
 flashing eyes, whilst cold drops of agony 
 rolled from his brow. 
 
 " Yet are my words, words of truth, and 
 therefore they wound the more," returned 
 the Yicar with a sneer, that wrought his 
 tortured victim to distraction. 
 
 '^ And if they be true !" he cried, " the 
 blame is yours, not mine. Shame fall on 
 you, who sold yourself as the tool of an un- 
 natural father, who cast his own son, a 
 nameless beg-rar upon the face of society, 
 and robbed him of the common rights which 
 every vagabond inherits from his birth. 
 Have I not implored you, aye, a thousand 
 times, to reveal to me the names of my 
 parents, and yet, as if a spell lay in the
 
 300 THE WARD OF THE CROWIT. 
 
 sound, you have ever denied my prayer. 
 Thence all the crime, if such it be, of which 
 you now accuse me ; thence all the agony, 
 that racks my burning brain : and you know 
 not, you cannot know, what dark mischances 
 may ensue. I must myself to Sir Hugh, I 
 must hear from his own lips, the confirma- 
 tion of your tale, ere I believe it true/' 
 
 " Sir Hugh will not consent to see you," 
 said the priest. " He wishes the whole 
 affair to remain secret, and even now had 
 not allowed me to disclose the fact of your 
 consanguinity, save for your wild presump- 
 tion, in pretending to his daughter's love." 
 
 " What crime have I committed, that I 
 am ever thus to be spurned, disowned, and 
 crushed like a vile reptile, to the earth V 
 demanded the young man in a trembling 
 voice, that belied the tranquillity he endea- 
 voured to assume. 
 
 " It is a mother's crime for which you are 
 made to pay," answered the Vicar. 
 
 " A mother's crime !" muttered Hubert in 
 a tone of agony.
 
 THE WARD OF T^E CROWN. 301 
 
 " Aye," returned Father Ambrose, " have 
 you yet to learn, a woman's weakness is her 
 offspring's curse ; that the child whose birth 
 was unsanctified by wedlock, inherits none 
 of those proud rights of which you talk so 
 much '? no name is his, no claim upon a 
 father's love, or fostering care, no birth-right, 
 and no honour." 
 
 " And my mother, sir — tell me of my 
 mother ?' demanded the young man with a 
 convulsive effort. 
 
 " She died in bringing thee into the 
 world ; I never knew her, and thou never 
 canst." 
 
 " Just heaven ! why was I born thus 
 accursed," cried Hubert, wildly clasping his 
 hands, " the child of sin, the offspring of 
 base passions, a wretched thing whom even 
 the felon's child may scorn, and set at 
 nought ! Aly mother too ! Thou, who 
 though I knew thee not, hast ever like an 
 unseen angel hovered near, betwLxt me and 
 evil, must thy fair form be ravished from 
 me I must I henceforth recoil with horror
 
 302 THE WARD OF THE CROWJf. 
 
 from the vision, or see thee only clothed in 
 shame and infamy, a vile, lost creature, 
 whom the tongue blisters to name '? and 
 when all others can with pride give honor 
 unto her, to whose maternal care their vir- 
 tues all are owing, I, poor, neglected wretch, 
 must tremble, lest men question me of her, 
 who cursed me with existence. Which ever 
 way I look, around me is despair ! and he, 
 the father who disowns me now, has been 
 the cause of all this ruin ! horror ! horror ! 
 that a son must live to loathe his parents' 
 names !" and in a p:;.roxysm of agony, he 
 flung him.self on the ground, and resting his 
 face on his arms, wept violently. 
 
 The priest waited till the first burst of 
 his despair had passed, and then softly ap- 
 proaching him, he laid his hand on his 
 shoulder, and said, " Arise, Hubert ! this is 
 rebellion against heaven. Thougli the sins 
 of the fathers, are, as thou well knowest, 
 visited upon the children, to the third and 
 fourth generation, yet by prayer, and peni- 
 tence, large means are offered thee to ob-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 303 
 
 literate the stain. Your fatiier himself, has 
 arranged with the Prior of Alnwick, for 
 your reception into that sacred fi'aternity, 
 and—" 
 
 " Let Sir Hugh himself go there, to ex- 
 piate his sins, by penance and mortifica- 
 tion, not I !" cried the youth starting at 
 once on his feet, with a sudden change of 
 feeling, that seemed to inspire his whole 
 frame with noble energy. " His is the 
 crime that hath need of repentance, and 
 pardon — not mine ! and both you and he 
 err greatly, if you think in making this 
 confession of his villany, that I, a poor, 
 weak, friendless youth, crushed by the 
 weight of this fearful disclosure, at a moment 
 when it destroys the first bright hopes of 
 love, which stood like angels at the threshold 
 of existence, you are both bitterly deceived, 
 if you believe, that in my loneliness and my 
 desolation, I shall fling myself into the anns 
 of the church, and thus remove for ever a 
 shame, and a reproach from the path of the 
 proud knight who dares not call me son.
 
 304 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 No, sir, whatever mj parents may have 
 sought to make me, such feeble pusillanimity 
 is an alien to my heart. Let others shun 
 the light who fear its rays." 
 
 " You may repent this pride, and haughty 
 insolonce, when all too late \" replied the 
 Vicar, who could neither understand, nor 
 appreciate, the noble and honest feelings of 
 his pupil. 
 
 " No, Father Ambrose, I never can re- 
 pent it," he returned with earnest rapidity, 
 " I have long felt a cloister is no place for 
 me, and the vile disclosures of to-day, in- 
 stead of driving me thither, have taught me, 
 that on the battle field, the stain upon my 
 birth must be washed out. There only can 
 I win honour, and I feel that there heaven 
 will prove propitious to my deeds, until there 
 comes a day, when he who now disowns me 
 as a son, would hear with pride that I had 
 acknowledged him as a father ! But that I 
 will never do, once spurned, the chains of 
 nature that united us, are burst for ever. Oh 
 would to heaven that were possible !" he
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 305 
 
 cried, suddenly arrested in the wild out- 
 burst of his pride, by the remembrance of 
 her, whom he was no more to dare to love. 
 " No, Ellen, no, whatever the ties of blood, 
 my sister thou canst never be !" he mur- 
 mured, and with hurried steps, he paced the 
 room in silent agony, lost to all present in 
 the wild confusion of his changing thoughts. 
 
 The priest looked at him meanwhile, with 
 wonder ; he could scarcely believe it possible, 
 that the haughty and energetic youth before 
 him, was the silent student, who for years 
 had obeyed his slightest command with re- 
 spect and alacrity. He felt little doubt that 
 all further remonstrance with him would be 
 vain ; yet he made another attempt to bend 
 him to the wishes of Sir Hugh, but the 
 young man was inexorable. 
 
 Irritated beyond the bounds of patience 
 by this continued persecution, when the 
 agony of his own thoughts was already past 
 endurance, he at length forgot the respect 
 due to Father Ambrose's sacred character, 
 and replied with words of scorn and contempt
 
 306 THE WAED OF THE CR0W5. 
 
 impossible for the Vicar to hear without re- 
 senting, and forgetting all the advantages 
 resulting from the continued favor of Sir 
 Hugh, he was about to command the youth 
 to quit his house instantly, when Hubert 
 abruptly announced his own intention to 
 depart, and hastily left the apartment, in 
 search of the few articles belonging to 
 him. 
 
 "Father Ambrose !" he said addressing 
 the priest, with proud tranquillity, when he 
 re -appeared with his little packet under his 
 arm, " perhaps you think I make an evil 
 return for all the care I have received for 
 years under your roof; but you must re- 
 member the fearful causes of irritation you 
 have given me within the last hour : you 
 must make allowance for the violence of one, 
 whose heart and tenderest feelings have been 
 tortured to the very verge of madness. If I 
 have said ought in the heat of passion, which 
 hath wounded, or offended you, I pray you 
 to forget and pardon it. My scorn and my 
 indignation are against others, not against
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW]!f. 307 
 
 jou. For your care and instruction I 
 thank you, and I trust the day may yet 
 arrive when you need not blush to remem- 
 ber, that I was once your pupil. Believe 
 me, I would fain take your blessing with 
 me, and the assurance of your pardon." 
 
 The priest, whose mild character was in- 
 capable of long resentment, could not refuse 
 this appeal, and he was inwardly contented, 
 when he saw Hubert Saville soon afterwards 
 proceed at a rapid pace down the garden, to 
 feel, that if they had parted for the last 
 time, on this side the grave, they had, at 
 least, parted in peace. 
 
 The mind of the young man was far less 
 tranquil, as he hurried towards the Manor 
 House, and the recollection of all that had 
 passed the day before, the thought of the 
 disclosure of his love for Ellen, he had in- 
 tended to make to Lady Isabel, and tke 
 fearful story he had now to relate, thronged 
 upon his mind. A dim feeling of apprehen- 
 sion likewise oppressed him, lest, as the son 
 of Sir Hugh, the affection of his patroness
 
 308 THE WARD OF THE CROWl^. 
 
 might be withdrawn from him, and the idea 
 that he must acknowledge himself to her, 
 whom he honored as a mother, to be the 
 illegitimate child of the knight, crushed 
 down his spirit with a heavy load of care. 
 All the pride which had sustained him in 
 the presence of Father Ambrose, gave way, 
 and overwhelmed by the humiliating sense 
 of his real position, and of the agony which 
 awaited the innocent object of his love, he 
 felt incapable of supporting an interview 
 with the lady of the Manor, till his mind 
 became more calm. 
 
 At mid-day he had promised to visit her, 
 and till mid-day, he determined to delay 
 the terrible disclosure he had to make. He 
 sat down by the waters of the stream where 
 Ellen had first led him to her grandmother's 
 side, distracted by feelings of despair, such as 
 the young alone can know. The mind can 
 better appreciate in later years, the flitting 
 character of all earthly things, and dulled 
 by frequent trials, and the consciousness of 
 the proximity of the grave, patiently sus-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 309 
 
 tains at the dark close of life, those keen 
 wounds, which to the ardour of youth, ap- 
 pear an inevitable source of endless misery. 
 
 But as the feelings of youth are more 
 acute, so are they less lasting than those of 
 age, and when mid-day approached, the 
 honest pride of Hubert had again resumed 
 its dominion, and resolved, that happen 
 what might, he would maintain the strife 
 against fortune with fortitude, his apprehen- 
 sions fled before the consciousness of recti- 
 tude, and a reliance on the protection of a 
 just Providence. 
 
 As he passed along by the side of the 
 rivulet, he suddenly perceived the body of a 
 dog thrown up on a slanting rock by the 
 current. Such a simple circumstance would 
 have failed to arrest his attention, had he 
 not instantly remarked, that the dead animal 
 bore a striking resemblance to the old watch 
 dog at the ^lanor House. When he had 
 drawn the body to the bank, he no longer 
 doubted that it was the faithful creature 
 who, for the last ten years, had given him
 
 310 THE WARD OF THE CROW J. 
 
 joyful welcome to Lady IsabeFs abode ; and 
 he felt^ as if fate had indeed conspired to rob 
 him of all he had ever held dear, when even 
 this dumb companioQof his childhood, was cast 
 a corpse at his feet. His astonishment was 
 great, when he saw the cord which Forrest 
 had twisted round its neck, and immediately 
 suspecting evil, he took the body in his arms, 
 and anxiously renewed his way. 
 
 Loud were the exclamations of the house- 
 keeper, when she saw her dead favourite, 
 and she at once declared that the beggar 
 whom she believed to be Miles Forrest, had 
 done the deed. She confessed that she had 
 serious fears some evil scheme was in agita- 
 tion, though she had not dared, she said, to 
 inform her lady of the loss of the dog, so 
 great had been her agitation since her inter- 
 view with Master Conyers, who had formerly 
 served with her lost son in the civil wars. 
 She begged Hubert likewise to be silent on 
 the subject, when he proceeded to the lady's 
 parlour. 
 He found Lady Isabel sitting, as she ever was
 
 THE WARD OF THE CR0W2^\ 311 
 
 at that hour, with the last letter she received 
 from her son Reginald, lying open on the 
 table before her. Something therein written 
 evidently influenced her mind, when, without 
 returning Hubert's salutation, she fixed her 
 searching eyes upon his face. 
 
 ^' By the blessing of heaven,'' she mur- 
 mured, " when next we meet, I trust to place 
 my son in the arms of my beloved mother 
 — and should I fall in this bloody war, my 
 wife wiU bring her babe to thee for protec- 
 tion. Written at Hexham, A. D. 1463. 
 And yet I wait for them, though two and 
 twenty years have passed. It is strange — 
 no tidings if he lives — and if he died — 
 neither the widow, nor the orphan have 
 come to tell the tale ! It was thus he looked, 
 when last we parted in tears," she continued 
 still gazing on her visiter, " so pale — so sad 
 — and thus, in his son, would now the fresh 
 image of his youth have been arrived, to 
 cheer the lonely winter of my age. But 
 these are dreams, good Hubert ! I scarce 
 could love thee more, wert thou indeed the
 
 312 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 offspring of my son, and spite of such dark 
 thouglits, which will at times return, it 
 soothes my weary spirit to believe, I hold a 
 mother's place in thy heart." 
 
 " More, far more," cried the young man 
 pressing the delicate, but withered hand of 
 the lady in both his, as he sunk on the 
 ground at her feet. " If reverence, honour, 
 and obedience, are proofs of love, all these I 
 bring you." 
 
 " I believe you," she returned, " but these 
 are dull themes, for one whose ardent soul, 
 would rather hear of marching and combats. 
 I have spoken with Conyers, and he has 
 undertaken to provide you with arras, and 
 all things fitting for a young esquire to carry 
 to the wars." 
 
 " Ha, lady, yet you well know I have no 
 means of repaying such an expence," cried 
 Hubert springing on his feet at this unex- 
 pected information. 
 
 " On my credit will all be done," answered 
 the lady, " and thou shall pay me back 
 with valorous deeds, and make the people
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 313 
 
 busy with thy fame. New wars are nigh, 
 and thou will have speedy occasion to try 
 thy fortune on the battle field. The op- 
 portunity must not be lost — the gates of 
 honour shall be opened to thee — and from 
 henceforth, it will be thy fault alone, if 
 thou miss the pathway thither. I will give 
 thee letters to men of rank and power, 
 launched on the wild sea of politics, with 
 such protection, a youth with half thy 
 talents, could not fail to win a proud reward 
 if honesty be made his sure and constant 
 guide. But trust me, Hubert, I have no 
 fears that the easy vices which beset the 
 houses of the great, will have any influence 
 on thy noble and virtuous character. To- 
 morrow thou must leave the Vicarage, and 
 join Cunyers here, when, may heaven prove 
 more propitious to thee, than to him, ou 
 whom I last bestowed my blessing." 
 
 " Ah, Lady Isabel," replied the young 
 man, " such kindness far surpasses all my 
 wildest wishes ; yet I fear, when you have 
 
 VOL. LP
 
 314 THE WARD OF THE CROWJN^ 
 
 heard all I have come hither to mipart, lest 
 3^011 may find reason to withdraw your prof- 
 fered aid." 
 
 " Hubert, you are pale — you tremble — 
 has any evil befallen you '? have you drawn 
 your sword upon that villain Carlton T were 
 her agitated exclamations. 
 
 " No, Madam ! the breach of my word is 
 a disgrace I have not yet incurred !" 
 
 " My son, be brief and true. Hast thou 
 done aught to merit shame. If thou hast 
 erred, fear not to make confession unto 
 me ; there may be yet time ; my advice, 
 or my gold may save thee from deeper 
 evil." 
 
 "Lady, you wring my heart," was his 
 reply. " Yes, shame has come upon me, but 
 by no deed of mine, and in such shape, that 
 neither gold, nor human wisdom, can obliter- 
 ate the stigma. It is my birthright and sole 
 inheritance !" 
 
 " What do your words imply \ Hath 
 Father Ambrose at length disclosed aught of 
 your history T
 
 THE WARD OF THE CTvOWN. 315 
 
 " Too much !"' was Hubert's brief and sad 
 reply. 
 
 " The secret of your parentage 1" 
 
 " Yes, all is told, and I declared, past all 
 dispute, the child of infamy." 
 
 " I will not credit it." 
 
 " I cannot doubt the tale ; and I, who 
 from my childhood, have ever delighted to 
 form fair dreams of my unknown mother, 
 must henceforth regard her only as a lost, 
 degraded creature." 
 
 "And your father?' eagerly demanded 
 his anxious listener. 
 
 " Ah, lady ! I tremble to pronounce a 
 name, which, when once heard, may rob me 
 of your precious love." 
 
 " Hubert !" said Lady Isabel solemnly, 
 " I have loved you for yourself alone, and 
 not for others. Speak without fear." 
 
 " Then, if it must be told, my father is 
 jour son !" 
 
 " Sir Hugh ! my son ! oh, say my son, but 
 not Sir Hugh, and then, with what joy, will 
 p 3
 
 316 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 I believe the tale !" she cried, with fearful 
 energy. 
 
 " Father Ambrose has declared the knight 
 to be my father, though my mother never 
 was his wife/' was Hubert's answer. 
 
 " And wherefore have they concealed all 
 this so long, and wherefore now, when no 
 one suspected the fact, should Sir Hugh 
 permit his long past sins to be revealed V 
 she demanded. 
 
 " Ah, lady, there lies the sharpest sting," 
 returned the young man with confusion, 
 " but to you, however painful, I must confess 
 all my folly and presumption. You well 
 know, how Ellen Oollingwood and I have 
 been companions from infancy ; but you have 
 not known, how love grew strong between 
 us ; nay, Ave even knew it not ourselves, till 
 absence taught us the nature of our feelings. 
 Here, in my solitude, it was no marvel, that 
 ray thoughts ever dwelt on her fair image, 
 but she, even in the precints of a court, was 
 not less true. She forgot me not — she re-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 317 
 
 turned unchanged, and our affection is no 
 more unspoken. We have met, as we be- 
 lieved in secret, to talk of the past and the 
 future ; but the spies of Sir Hugh have 
 tracked our steps, he has learnt our love, 
 and horror struck, it seems, by the danger to 
 which his concealment of my birth had ex- 
 posed us, he has torn aside the veil of mys- 
 tery to save us from utter ruin." 
 
 " Horrible ! most horrible," murmured the 
 lady, " and it is thus, that these cold and 
 worldly-hearted men, can crush the budding 
 hopes of two young, confiding hearts — can 
 tear away the flowers that never bloom 
 again ; it is thus they can ruthlessly dry up 
 the springs of happiness, and leave no drop 
 of joy to cheer the lonely wanderer on life's 
 sterile path. Hubert, I dare be sworn, this 
 tale is false, as those who invented it. It 
 is a mere invention to divide you from 
 Ellen !" 
 
 " I dare not think so !" was the youth's 
 reply. " And yet, tliough I have been too 
 presumptuous to lift my thoughts so liigh,
 
 318 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 SO high, the punishment is greater than my 
 crime. I loved her in my ignorance." 
 
 " Talk not of presumption ! that word is 
 misapplied," cried Lady Isabel, with that 
 wild and passionate energy, which gave rise 
 to the common idea of her insanity, "if 
 fault there be, I only am to blame. Think 
 you I could be so blind as not to foresee, 
 that love must be the consequence of the 
 continual intercourse of two creatures bright 
 and gifted as you and Ellen 1 I knew it, 
 Hubert, and that it should be so, was my 
 heart's warmest desire. I marked your child- 
 ish attachment, day by day gaining new 
 strength, till love at length knew his own 
 power, and over both your souls usurped the 
 mastery. This was my work, and a work I 
 gloried in. Heaven pardon me, if I have 
 wrought you woe, instead of joy ; but I knew 
 that you had a noble and a gentle heart, 
 such as alone can make wedlock happy ; and 
 though you were poor, yet I had gold enough, 
 and Ellen hath wealth her father cannot rob
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 319 
 
 her of. I fondly thought, I thus secured the 
 happiness of both, bj encouraging your 
 love ; and more than all, your resemblance 
 to my lost son, has, from your childhood, 
 been so marvellous, that, united with the 
 mystery of your birth, it awakened strange 
 dreams in my heart, and made me love thee, 
 with a visionary hope." 
 
 " And now, when this resemblance to your 
 family is accounted for in another manner," 
 said Hubert with a trembling voice, " dare I 
 hope, that your affection will not be with- 
 drawn '? dare I hope, that though I must 
 henceforth hold it criminal to love, where 
 most I worship, that you will not cast me 
 off with scorn, now you know the story of 
 my shame." 
 
 " Fear not, thy sorrow makes thee dearer 
 to my heart, and if thou be the offspring of 
 Sir Hugh, I shall be proud to teach him 
 his duty towards the child he hath neg- 
 lected." 
 
 " And still refuses to acknowledge !" re- 
 joined Hubert. " He denies me an interview,
 
 320 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 he withdraws from me all aid and support, 
 and wishes the very fact of my existence to 
 be forgotten." 
 
 " That shall never be \" cried Lady Isabel 
 with proud decision. " Whatever thy birth, 
 I charge myself henceforward with thy for- 
 tunes. Sir Hugh shall have reason to repent 
 the day, when he spurned thee. Mark me, 
 Hubert — I wish not to excite false hopes in 
 thy mind, but there is, in the conduct of my 
 son, much that excites suspicion in my mind, 
 of falsehood and deceit ; and I vow, by the 
 Holy Mother, I will never rest satisfied till I 
 have explored this affair to the foundation. 
 Sir Hugh is not to be trusted. For gold, and 
 the sensual pleasures gold can buy, he would 
 sell wife, child, mother, nay, even his hopes 
 of heaven. From him I can learn nothing 
 further ; but though I sit here in my lonely 
 chamber, far from the busy world, yet I have 
 money, and money is power ! The House of 
 York will, I hope, ere long, lose the ascen- 
 dancy ; then shall I have friends and agents 
 at command ; and by the saints I swear, if
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 321 
 
 it prove that Reginald, my son, or his child, 
 have been foully dealt with, their wrongs 
 shall be avenged, even though Sir Hugh 
 himself be the criminal. But patience — 
 patience — thou hast one friend at least, and 
 she will ne'er desert thee. Back to that 
 priest thou never more shalt go." 
 
 " I have already wished him farewell," re- 
 turned Hubert sadly. " One painful duty 
 alone remains for me to perform, ere I depart. 
 I must see Ellen — I must tell her the fatal 
 truth, which henceforth places a gulf between 
 us." 
 
 " Her father hath forbidden her to come 
 hither alone," said the lady, " where do you 
 expect to meet her ?" 
 
 " Near the old mill," returned the youth. 
 
 " Conyers would gladly speak with you 
 about the preparations for your journey. 
 He is often at the ruin, and it would be well 
 for you to go thither, to inquire for him 
 without further delay. But remember, what- 
 ever he may propose, I expect you to pass 
 p 5
 
 322 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 two nights at least, under my roof, ere w^ 
 part perhaps for ever." 
 
 " 1 have not words to thank you/' was 
 Hubert's reply, " but I ;.rust a time may yet 
 arrive, when I shall have other means to 
 prove my gratitude. As soon as my sad 
 parting with Ellen is past, I will return ; but 
 let Hannah be on her guard, not to unbar the 
 door till she hears my voice. Perhaps you 
 are aware there has been a stranger here this 
 morning, whose manner excites suspicion : 
 and I am sorry to add, Lady Isabel, there 
 are reports of your wealth in circulation, 
 which render the utmost caution necessary, 
 in a neighbourhood so infested by roving 
 Scots and freebooters." 
 
 " Let them come ; they will find they are 
 mistaken, that is all," answered the courage- 
 ous woman. " To-night and to-morrow 
 night at least, I shall have a brave young 
 guard beneath my roof." 
 
 " And arms T 
 
 " There is a rusty sword hangs above the 
 kitchen chimney, and an old axe in the hall,
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW!^. 323 
 
 and these are arms enough, I warrant, for all 
 the robbers we shall see here." 
 
 Hubert shook his head. His promise to 
 the house-keeper compelled him to be silent 
 as to the fate of the dog, but resolving at 
 all hazards to return at an early hour, h^ 
 wished the lady farewell, and proceeded at a 
 rapid pace towards the mill.
 
 324 THE WARD OP THE CROWN, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Although it was the month of May, and the 
 sun was going down bright and cloudless 
 towards its setting, there was a keen east 
 wind blowing from the sea, and patches of 
 snow were still to be seen upon the highest 
 parts of the Cheviot hills. The buds on the 
 beech and ash trees had not jet burst into 
 leaf, but the yellow broom was gay upon the 
 banks, the primroses began to glisten like 
 stars amongst the moss and weeds of the
 
 THE WARD OF THE C.ROWX. 325 
 
 woods, and the blue hyacinth, raised its pur- 
 ple bell from its dark leaves, near the margin 
 of the stream. The lark had warbled in 
 the sky the whole day long, and a solitary 
 blackbird was singing like a spirit on the 
 russet branches of an old oak tree, as Hubert 
 descended the narrow path leading to the 
 river, which went rippling over the rocks 
 and pebbles with many a musical fall. 
 
 There was nothing grand, nothing impos- 
 ing in the scene, but the calm beauty of the 
 peaceful solitude had long made it one of 
 his favorite resorts ; and as he once more 
 gazed upon its shadows, and its sunshine, 
 the whole of his past feelings, the hopes 
 never again to be indulged, the visions of 
 happiness never to be fulfilled, came with 
 overwhelming agony before him. Every rock, 
 every tree, as if instinct witli life, revived 
 some long forgotten • image in his mind, and 
 now, when he beheld them probably for the 
 last time, he felt with more reality than he 
 had yet done, that the whole tenour of his
 
 326 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 life was changed for ever — that banished 
 from the fields of his youth, even the 
 thoughts of early days must be forgotten ; 
 and divided from all he loved, the future 
 would be to him a desert, where he might 
 fight and conquer it was true, but where 
 vain honours and a solitary grave, were the 
 sole objects visible upon the dreary horizon. 
 But remembering his vow of fortitude, he 
 brushed the tears from his eyes as he ap- 
 proached the miller's abode. 
 
 Much to his disappointment he found the 
 door closed and bolted, but trusting that 
 either Andrew, or Master Conyers, would, ere 
 long, make their appearance, he seated him- 
 self on the bench before the door, to wait 
 as long as his appointment with Ellen per- 
 mitted him to tarry. 
 
 More than an hour passed, and all re- 
 mained as solitary as before, yet he fancied 
 several times that he heard the sound of 
 footsteps in the mill, but all the shattered 
 windows were so closed up, that he could no
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 327 
 
 where make an entrance, and convinced at 
 length, that the building was empty, he re- 
 turned to his seat. 
 
 Ere long, however, his astonishment was 
 great to hear a door close in the miller's 
 dwelling, and then a female voice sang, low 
 and sweet, a verse of a border ballad. Again 
 all was still as the grave, till a few minutes 
 afterwards the door near him was cautiously 
 opened, and almost close at his side, he 
 beheld Clarion, in her male attire. 
 
 Her beauty was even more remarkable in 
 that full light, than in the gloomy dwelling, 
 as he had before seen her ; yet her counte- 
 nance was yet sadder than before, and tears 
 glittered on her long, black eye-lashes. She 
 carried a pitcher in her hand, as if it was 
 her intention to bring water from the stream, 
 but she had no sooner recognised Hubert, 
 than she paused and turned towards him. 
 
 " Master Saville," she said with a sweet 
 and modest grace, " if you are waiting for 
 Master Conyers, you are spending your time 
 in vain. He sent a boy here from the village
 
 328 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 soon after noon, to say that Andrew, the 
 miller, should go to the Manor house to pre- 
 vent your coming hither, and to tell Lady 
 Isabel she should hear more before night, 
 as for the present he is detained by urgent 
 business/' 
 
 " I thank you for your tidings, and would 
 fain know bj what name I am to remember 
 so fair a messenger," returned Hubert raising 
 his bonnet, as with unconcealed admiration 
 and wonder, he gazed on the beautiful being 
 before him. 
 
 " You have heard me called Marion, so 
 let that henceforth be my name to you ; 
 though," she added smiling, " others, when I 
 wear this garb, give me the name of Jos- 
 celin/' 
 
 " And thou art the daughter of Master 
 Conyers V 
 
 " In love and duty ! but enough of myself; 
 there is no time to lose. I must fill my 
 pitcher and begone." 
 
 " That is my duty," said the youth follow- 
 ing her to the brink of the stream, and
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWl^. 329 
 
 gently taking the jug from her hand, he 
 stepped over the rocks to the deep water, 
 and quickly filled it to the brim. 
 
 She thanked him simply, as he placed it 
 again in her hands, and then wishing him 
 good evening, she returned towards the cot- 
 tage. Hubert gazed after her, with even 
 greater wonder and curiosity than before, 
 but no sooner had she disappeared, than 
 fearful thoughts banished her image from his 
 mind. 
 
 With his arms crossed upon his breast, he 
 stood forgetful of all around, when he was 
 startled by hearing his own name softly pro- 
 nounced, and looking up, he beheld Ellen 
 herself, standing on the brink of a rocky 
 path above him. The wind blew back the 
 dark woollen scarf she had thrown over her 
 lace hood and close gown of purple silk, 
 fully displaying her fair face, and form, as, 
 beaming with joy, she waved her hand for 
 Hubert to join her. 
 
 " I am on my way to the mill," she said
 
 330 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 
 
 gailj, " but we need go no further now, so 
 let us sit down upon this mossy bank." 
 
 " And think of other times, when we were 
 children here together," said the young man 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 " My present happiness is too great," she 
 replied, " for me to remember such days. 
 But, Hubert, you are sad ! you tremble ! 
 have you heard any evil news ?" 
 
 " Most fatal news !" he returned in trem- 
 bling accents. "But let me still look on 
 you awhile, with that bright smile upon your 
 face ; let me feel, even though it be for the 
 last time, that we have once been happy to- 
 gether, let me gaze on you with my whole 
 soul, as I must never gaze again, ere I pro- 
 nounce the fearful words that must hence- 
 forth divide us for ever and for ever !" 
 
 "Hubert, what wild and harrowing 
 thoughts distract you ! your hand is cold in 
 mine — tears fill your eyes — oh. Holy Mother, 
 what new misfortune hath befallen us !" she 
 exclaimed as she gazed with terror on his 
 changing countenance.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROW^. 331 
 
 Hubert clasped her wildly in his arms, 
 and pressed repeated kisses on her lips ere 
 he cried, " Yes, for the last time it must be 
 thus, even though thou art my sister !" 
 
 " Thy sister, Hubert ! dost thou rave V 
 exclaimed the girl wildly starting from his 
 bosom, " Thy sister ! what a terrible thought 
 even to enter thy mind/' 
 
 " Yes, Ellen, thou art right," he returned, 
 " yet that thought is dread reality. Thy 
 father is my father." 
 
 " How learnt you such a tale V she cried 
 in distracted accents, and her hands, which 
 were still pressed in Hubert's, became as cold 
 as death, whilst all color, all brightness 
 passed away from her young, fair face. 
 Breathlessly she leant forwards towards him, 
 and her very life seemed to depend upon his 
 words as he replied in an almost inaudible 
 voice, " Sir Hugh having discovered our love, 
 himself gave authority to Father Ambrose 
 to disclose to me the fatal secret." 
 
 " Dreadful !" was the sole exclamation of
 
 332 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 the unfortunate girl, ere she sunk back over- 
 powered on the bank. Yet, still she held the 
 hand of Hubert in her's, still she leaned her 
 drooping head against his side, and though 
 her eyes were closed, large drops rolled from 
 time to time over her pale cheeks, and be- 
 trayed the agony of her heart. Thus they 
 remained for a brief space, in profound 
 silence ; both overwhelmed by the conscious- 
 ness of their fearful position. Ellen was the 
 first to speak. 
 
 " Hubert, my brother," she murmured 
 looking up with mingled despair and affec- 
 tion in his eyes. " Yet I can love him still 
 — as a sister love him, even to the grave !" 
 and her tears fell thick and fast. 
 
 " Oh, would to heaven that I had heard 
 this tale ere thy return," he said, " thou hadst 
 been spared much agony." 
 
 " Oh, no ! no !" she cried. " It is better 
 thus, for I have at least had the joy of know- 
 ing how much you loved me — one ray to 
 light my future gloomy years. Ah, Hubert, 
 we ' are luckless both ! so young — and yet
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWIs'. 333 
 
 SO blighted," and she pressed his hand again 
 and again to her lips. " Knows Lady Isabel 
 of this T she at length enquired. 
 
 " I have told her all — and oh, Ellen, now 
 when our hopes are all destroyed, I almost 
 grieve to say, she would have blessed our 
 union. She had long marked our love." 
 
 " This makes our new misfortune deeper 
 still !" she replied. 
 
 "Yet, dearest Ellen, perchance therein 
 lieth salvation for us both !" 
 
 " What can you mean T demanded the 
 girl eagerly. 
 
 " That Lady Isabel doubts the truth of 
 our consanguinity." 
 
 " Oh, blessed Virgin ! what a ray of 
 light !" she cried starting from the ground 
 and clasping her hands together. " She thinks 
 this tale may be an invention of Carlton and 
 my father to divide us 1" 
 
 " Even so !" returned Hubert, " but yet I 
 cannot join in her suspicions. Father Am- 
 brose is an honest man, and would not lend 
 himself to be their tool."
 
 334 THE WARD OF THE CROWK. 
 
 " What says Lady Isabel T 
 
 " She replies with hints of dark intrigues 
 to which she only half gives utterance." 
 
 " And, alas, Hubert, it would be crime in 
 us to build up sinful hopes, on the wild 
 dreams of her excited mind." 
 
 " And it is thus, we both should think !" 
 returned the young man ; " and yet I cannot 
 patiently despair, and doom myself to a 
 dark certainty of endless shame and sorrow. 
 I must have hope ! it is like the air to life ; 
 exclude it from my soul, and I should 
 quickly perish. An ignominious birth, an 
 infamous mother, and a father, whom, though 
 your parent, I needs must scorn, if such are 
 my only portion, it were better at once to 
 lay down the burthen of existence. But 
 though wild, and perchance groundless hopes 
 of a brighter future, flash over my brain, it 
 is yet a fearful certainty, Ellen, that we must 
 part — part perchance for ever !" 
 
 " No, no, Hubert ! that need not, must 
 not be !" she cried. " When our young feel- 
 ings are subdued by absence, and the con-
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 335 
 
 sciousness of the natural ties that unite us 
 — we yet may meet. Brother and sister — 
 it is a tender bond, sacred and pure, and a 
 time may come, when its sinless love may 
 prove a solace to our unimpassioned hearts. 
 Till then — amidst the trials that await thee 
 — remember thou hast, at least, a sister, who, 
 though far from thee, will ever deeply 
 sympathise in all thy sorrows and thy joys." 
 
 " And thou wilt not forget me, Ellen V 
 demanded Hubert with an emotion that 
 almost robbed him of the power of words. 
 "You will not, in despair, consent to all 
 your father's wishes, and yield your hand to 
 Carlton." 
 
 " Oh, wound me not, by such suspicions !" 
 she exclaimed. "Think you my love for 
 thee was of such feeble growth, or I so fickle, 
 and so light of heart, that a few words can 
 scatter it, like a mist of the morning. 
 Though brighter hopes are past, thou, as a 
 brother, shalt still hold the first place in my 
 heart, and no power on earth shall ever force
 
 336 THE WARP OF THE CROWN. 
 
 me to become the wifevof that detestable 
 Oarlton — nor of any other man," she softly 
 added, and she rested her head on Hubert's 
 hands, which she still held clasped in hers, 
 and wept. "You will promise me in re- 
 turn,'' she said, at length, looking up at her 
 lover with feelings no language could ex- 
 press, " that no mortification, or disappoint- 
 ment, shall ever induce you to enter a 
 monastery '?" 
 
 " I have already forsworn the church," 
 he replied, " and in two days, I leave the 
 neighbourhood with Marston Conyers, to seek 
 my fortune as a soldier. A sad task, Ellen, 
 when the heart has no part in the struggle ; 
 and I tremble when I think to what perse- 
 cution you may be exposed, after my de- 
 parture. But let me advise you, in every 
 emergency to place implicit confidence in Lady 
 Isabel. Though her imagination may be ex- 
 cited with regard to her lost son, her judg- 
 ment on all other points is strong and clear, 
 and she holds the interested and unprincipled 
 schemes of Carlton in abhorrence."
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 337 
 
 " And you will write to her, will you not 1 
 — and I shall hear of you sometimes, from 
 her," rejoined Ellen ; but ere he could reply 
 to her qr.estion, they were surprised to hear 
 footsteps approaching from the mill. 
 
 It was now so dusk, that no figure could 
 be seen through the trees, at more than a 
 few paces distance, and in hopes of escaping 
 observation, they remained some minutes 
 silent. During this pause, they distinctly 
 heard the voices of two persons in discourse, 
 and then the woods echoed to the name of 
 Hubert Saville, repeated in the powerful 
 voice of the moss-trooper. 
 
 " Master Conyers !" replied Hubert, in the 
 same tone ; and in a brief space, the outlaw 
 stood beside them accompanied by Marion, 
 who hung a few paces behind. 
 
 "The saints be thanked, I have found 
 you," cried Conyers, the moment he was 
 certain to whom he spoke, " there is not a 
 moment to be lost, and you must hurry back 
 to the Manor House without delay. Who 
 have you with you, here ^ Ha ! the fair 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 338 THE WARD OF THE CROWIf. 
 
 daughter of Sir Hugh CoUingwood. My 
 young lady, you must either go with us, with 
 all speed, or return to the Tower, whither 
 my page will keep you company." 
 
 " What means all this T demanded 
 Hubert, in amazement. 
 
 " This is neither a time nor place for 
 explanations," answered Conyers. " Wish 
 your companion farewell, and follow me, 
 without question. You will repent it to 
 your dying day if you do not." 
 
 " Go, Hubert, go — I implore you," cried 
 Ellen. " If Lady Isabel summoned you, her 
 commands must not be disputed for an in- 
 stant." 
 
 " And leave you here alone in this soli- 
 tude, at such an hour T he rejoined. " It is 
 impossible !" 
 
 " Have I not said, my page shall accom- 
 pany her," demanded Conyers, impatiently. 
 
 " It is better thus," murmured the girl. 
 " May the saints guard you, Hubert, till we 
 meet again !" and whilst the outlaw turned 
 away to give his parting directions to ]\larion.
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 339 
 
 her lover pressed her with passionate despair 
 to his heart, and one long kiss was his un- 
 uttered farewell. 
 
 " Heaven keep and protect thee !'' he ex- 
 claimed, when yielding at length to the 
 repeated instances of Conjers, he placed her 
 half lifeless on the mossy bank, and recom- 
 mending her, in broken accents, to the care of 
 Marion, hurried, in a state bordering on 
 distraction, after the outlaw. 
 
 " It Vv^as lucky Marion saw you at the mill, 
 or I should not have known where to seek 
 you," said Conyers, after they had proceeded 
 a short distance in silence. 
 
 " What is the meaning of this urgent haste 
 and secrecy T demanded Hubert, in reply. 
 " I trust no evil has befallen Lady Isabel 1" 
 
 " ]^ot yet," returned his companion, " but 
 I feared to tell you what I dread may arrive, 
 in the presence of Mistress Collingwood, for 
 perchance her father hath a share in it. 
 But to be brief — the j\Ianor House is to be 
 attacked to-night by robbers, who are in pur- 
 suit of the lady's gold. That no man may
 
 340 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 be the wiser, they design to set fire to the 
 building, when their plunder is safe, and 
 leave its inhabitants to perish in the 
 flames." 
 
 " You appal me ! can such monsters 
 live V cried the young man. 
 
 " Ay, they live, and moreover call them- 
 selves of gentle blood." 
 
 " Can they not be arrested ere the deed be 
 perpetrated V 
 
 " Impossible!" answered Conyers, "I should 
 only be laughed to scorn, if I accused them, 
 and probably condemned to suffer the 
 punishment they merit. Master Carlton is 
 the principal in this plot — Master Carlton, 
 the King's secretary! — what think you of 
 that ? and for ought I know, Sir Hugh may 
 intend to share the plunder." 
 
 " What then is to be done V demanded 
 Hubert, eagerly. 
 
 " The lady must be warned, the house put 
 in a state of defence, and you and I will give 
 the courtier and his minions a warmer re- 
 ception than they expect. To make all
 
 THE WARD OF THE CROWX. 341 
 
 things sure, they have even stolen the dog 
 this morning from the door." 
 
 " I found its body in the stream, and had 
 fears it boded evil," answered the youth. 
 " Have you learned how many are to be en- 
 gaged in the attack V 
 
 " Carlton and two other cowardly rascals ; 
 but I trust that you and I shall be more than 
 a match for them I especially as they expect 
 no resistance. It would have been well to 
 have another stout fellow with us, but I 
 know none in this neighbourhood, so we 
 must do our best. I only fear thou hast not 
 had much practice with the sword or axe. 
 Master Hubert." 
 
 " I have never missed the sports on the 
 village green ; and Andrew has taken care I 
 should know something of the use of the 
 sword," was the young man's answer. 
 
 " Ay, ay, the miller was a valiant soldier 
 in his time," returned the outlaw, "so I 
 warrant thou cans't fight gallantly in case of 
 need. I have arms under my mantle to 
 furnisii us both, and heaven will aid us, for
 
 342 THE WARD OF THE CROWN. 
 
 we shall fight in a good cause. But here 
 we are at the Manor House, and in good 
 time too, for lights are still stirring in the 
 upper storj." 
 
 ^Nevertheless, Master Conyers thundered 
 long and loud, with his axe, against the great 
 oaken door in front of the building ere old 
 Hannah poked her head from her chamber 
 window, and demanded the cause of this 
 disturbance. The voice of Hubert reassured 
 her, and with many expressions of joy she 
 hastened to give him and his companion ad- 
 mission, as speedily as possible. 
 
 EISD OF VOL. I. 
 
 T. C. Newbt, Printer, 72, Mortimer Street, Cavendish Sqiinrc.
 
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