Clothed in the most splendid array with which he had been able to provide himself, his tight-fitting hose displaying to the highest advantage his graceful yet powerful limbs, with the coat of black silk, spotted with flowers of gold, cut wide, but gathered into numerous pleats or folds round the collar and the waist, and confined by a rich girdle to the form, while the sleeves, fashioned to the shape of the arm, and fastened at the wrist, showed the strong contour of the swelling muscles, Richard of Woodville stood before the door of the inn, as handsome and princely a man in his appearance as ever graced a royal court. Over his shoulders he wore a short mantle of embroidered cloth, trimmed with costly fur, the sleeves of which, according to the custom of the day, were slashed down the inner side so as to suffer the arm to be thrust out from them, while they, more for ornament than use, hung down to the bend of the knee. On his feet he wore the riding boots of the time, thrust down to the ankle; and--in accordance with a custom then new in the courts of France and Burgundy, but which ere long found its way to England--his heavy sword had been laid aside, and his only arm was a rich hilted dagger, suspended by a gold ring from the clasp of his girdle. His head was covered with a small bonnet, or velvet cap, ornamented by a single long white feather, showing that he had not yet reached knightly rank; and round it curled in large masses his glossy dark-brown hair.

Likewise, arrayed with all the splendour that the young gentleman's purse had permitted him to procure, six of his servants stood ready by their horses' sides to accompany him to the dwelling of the Count of Charolois; and a glittering train they formed, well fitted to do honour to Old England in the eyes of a foreign court. It was evident enough that they were all well pleased with themselves; but their self-satisfaction was of the cool and haughty kind, so common to our countrymen, partaking more of pride than vanity. They looked down upon others more than they admired themselves; and, unlike the French or the Burgundians, seemed to care little what others thought of them,--quite contented with feeling that their garb became them, and that, should need be, they could give a stroke or bide a buffet with the best.

The horse of Richard of Woodville--not the one which had borne him from the coast, but a finer and more powerful animal--was brought round; and turning for a moment to Ella Brune, who stood with a number of other gazers at the door of the inn, the young Englishman said, "I will not be so careless and forgetful to-day, Ella; but will bring you back tidings of your kinsman, without farther fault."

Then springing on his charger's back he rode lightly away, while the poor girl gazed after him, with a deep sigh struggling at her heart, and suppressed with pain, as she thought of the many eyes around her.

At the gate of the Graevensteen, orders had been already given to admit the young Englishman into the inner court; and, riding on, Richard of Woodville dismounted near the door which led to the apartments of Sir Philip de Morgan. A man who was waiting at the foot of the stairs, ran up them as soon as he saw the train, and before Woodville could follow, the envoy of the King of England came down, followed by a page. He greeted his young countryman with even marked courtesy, suffered his eye to rest with evident pleasure upon his goodly train, and then turning with a smile to Woodville, he inquired,--"Do men now in England gild the bits and chains of their horses?"

"It is a new custom, I believe," replied the young gentleman. "I gave little heed to it, but told the people to give me those things that would not discredit my race and country at the Court of Burgundy."

"Well, let us go thither," replied Sir Philip; "or, at least, to such part of it as is here in Ghent. I have already advised the Count that you are coming, and he is willing to show you all favour."

The envoy accordingly led the way across the wide court which separated the old gate, with its gloomy towers, from the stern and still more forbidding fortress of the ancient Counts of Flanders; and passing first through a narrow chamber, in which were sitting some half dozen armed guards, and then through a wide hall, where a greater number of gentlemen were assembled in their garb of peace, the two Englishmen approached a flight of steps at the farther end. There a middle-aged man, with a gold chain round his neck, advanced, and addressing Sir Philip de Morgan, inquired if the Count was aware of their visit?

The diplomatist replied that they were expected at that hour; and the other, pushing open the door at the top of the steps, called loudly to an attendant within, to usher the visitors to his Lord's presence. After a few more ceremonies of the same kind, Woodville and his companion were introduced into the small cabinet in which the Count of Charolois was seated. He was not alone, for two personages, having the appearance of men of some rank, but booted and spurred as if for a journey, were standing before him, in the act of taking their leave; and Richard of Woodville had an opportunity of examining briefly the countenance of the Prince, known afterwards as Philip the Good.

He was then in the brightness of early youth; and seldom has there been seen a face more indebted to expression for the beauty which all men agreed to admire. Taken separately, perhaps none of the features were actually fine, except the eyes; but there was a look of generous kindness, a softness brightened by a quick and intelligent glance, a benignity rather heightened than diminished by certain firmness of character, in the mouth and jaw, which was inexpressibly pleasing to the eye. There were lines of deep thought, too, about the brow, which contrasted strangely with the smooth soft skin of youth, and with the rounded cheeks without a furrow or hollow, and the eyelids as unwrinkled and full as those of careless infancy.

The Count had evidently been speaking on matters of grave moment; for there was a seriousness even in his smile, as, rising for an instant, while the others bowed and retired, he wished them a prosperous journey. He was above the middle height, but not very tall; and, though in after years he became somewhat corpulent, he was now very slight in form, and graceful in his movements, which all displayed, even at the early age of seventeen, that dignity, never lost, even after the symmetry of youth was gone.

As the two gentlemen who took their leave were quitting the room, the Count turned to Sir Philip de Morgan, bowing rather stiffly, and noticing Woodville with a slight inclination of the head.

"This is, I suppose, the gentleman you mentioned, Sir Philip," he said, "who has brought me letters from my royal cousin of England?"

"The same, fair sir," replied the envoy. "Allow me to make known to you Master Richard of Woodville, allied to the noble family of Beauchamp, one of the first in our poor island."

"He is welcome to Ghent," replied the Count. But Woodville remarked that he did not demand the letters which he bore; and he was hesitating whether he should present the one addressed to him, when the Prince inquired in an easy tone, whether he had had a prosperous journey; following up the question with so many others of small importance, that the young Englishman judged there was something assumed in his eager but insignificant interrogatory.

He knew not, indeed, what was the motive; but his companion, too well accustomed to the ways of courts not to translate correctly a hint of the kind, whether he chose to apply it or not, took occasion, at the very first pause, to say, "Having now had the honour of introducing this young gentleman, I will leave him with you, my Lord Count, as I have important letters to write on the subject of our conversation this morning."

"Do so, sir knight," replied the Prince; and he took a step towards the door, as if to honour his departing visitor.

"Now, Master Richard of Woodville," he continued, as soon as the other was gone, "let us speak of your journey hither; but first, if you please, let me see the letter which you bring, and which may, perhaps, render farther explanation unnecessary."

Richard of Woodville immediately presented the King's epistle to the Count of Charolois, who read the contents with attention, and then gazed at the bearer with an earnest glance. "I have heard of you before, sir," he said, with a gracious smile, "and am most willing to retain you on the part of Burgundy. Such a letter as this from my royal cousin could not be written in favour of one who did not merit high honour; and, unhappily, in these days, there are but too many occasions of gaining renown in arms. May I ask what payment you require for the services of yourself and your men?"

"None, noble Prince," replied Richard of Woodville: "I come but to seek honour. If my services be good, you or your father will recompence them as you think meet. In the meantime, all that I require is entertainment for myself and followers at the Court of Burgundy, wherever it may be, and the discharge of my actual expenses in time of war, or when I am employed in any enterprise you may think fit to intrust to me."

"I see, sir, that you are of the olden chivalry," said the Count, giving him his hand. "You are from this moment a retainer of our house; and I am glad," he continued, "that I have spoken with you alone; for good Sir Philip de Morgan loves none to bring letters from his King but himself. I may have cause to call upon you soon. Even now, indeed,----; but of that hereafter. How many have you with you?"

"Ten stout archers," answered the young Englishman, "who will do their duty in whatever field they may be called to, and myself. That is my only force, but it may go far; for we are well horsed and armed, and most of us have seen blood drawn in our own land. You said, my Lord Count, that even now an occasion might offer--at least, so I understood you. Now, I am somewhat impatient of fortune's tardiness, and would not miss her favours, as soon as her hand is open."

The Count mused for a moment, and then looked up, laughing. "Well," he said, "perhaps my mother may call me a rash boy, in trusting to such new acquaintance; but yet I will confide in you to justify me. There may be an occasion very soon; and if there be, I will let you have your part. I, alas! must not go; but, at all events, have everything ready to set out at a moment's notice; and you may chance to ride far before many days be over. Now let us speak of other things:" and he proceeded to ask his visitor numerous questions regarding the English court--its habits, customs, and the characters of the principal nobles that distinguished it.

Richard of Woodville answered his inquiries more frankly than he had done those of Sir Philip de Morgan, and the Count seemed well pleased with all he heard. Gradually their conversation lost the stiffness of first acquaintance; and the young Prince, throwing off the restraint of ceremony, gave way to the candid spirit of youth, spoke of his own father, and of his dangerous position at the Court of France, expressed his longing desire to take an active part in the busy deeds that were doing, touched with some bitterness upon the conduct of the Dauphin towards his sister, and added, with a flushed cheek, "Would my father suffer it, I would force him, lance to lance, if not to cast away his painted paramour, at least to do justice to his neglected wife. She is more fair and bright than any French harlot; and it must be a studied purpose to insult her race, that makes him treat her thus."

"Perhaps not, noble Count," replied Richard of Woodville: "there is nothing so capricious on this earth as the pampered heart of greatness. Do we not daily see men of all ranks cast away from them things of real value to please the moment with some empty trifle? and the spoilt children of fortune--I mean Princes and Kings--may well be supposed to do the same. God, when he puts a crown upon their heads, leaves them to enrich it with jewels, if they will; but, alas! too often they content themselves with meaner things, and think the crown enough."

The Prince smiled, with a thoughtful look, and gazed for a moment in Woodville's face, ere he replied. "You speak not the same language as Sir Philip de Morgan," he said at length: "his talk is ever of insult and injury to the House of Burgundy. He can find no excuse for the House of Valois."

"He speaks as a politician, my Lord Count," replied Woodville: "would that I might say, I speak as a friend, though a bold one. I know not what are his views and purposes; but when you mention aught to me, I must answer frankly, if I answer at all; and in this case I can easily believe that the Dauphin, in the wild heat of youth, perhaps nurtured in vice and licentiousness, and, at all events, taught early to think that his will must have no control, may neglect a sweet lady for a trumpery leman, without meaning any insult to your noble race. Bad as such conduct is, it were needless to aggravate it by imaginary wrongs."

The Count looked down in thought, and then, raising his head with a warm smile, he answered, "You speak nobly, sir, and you may say you are my friend; for the man who would temper a Prince's passion, without any private motive, is well worthy of the character here written;" and he laid his hand upon Henry's letter, which he had placed on the table.

"I trust, my Lord Count," replied Woodville, "that you will never have cause to say, in any case where my allegiance to my own Sovereign is not concerned, that I do not espouse your real interests, as warmly as I would oppose any passion, even of your own, which I thought contrary to them. I am not a courtier, fair sir, and may express myself somewhat rudely; but I will trust to your own discernment to judge, in all instances, of the motive rather than the manner."

"I shall remember more of what you have said than you perhaps imagine," answered the young Count. "You gave me a lesson, my noble friend--and henceforth I will call you by that name--in regard to those spoilt children of fortune, as you term them, Princes; and I will try not to let a high station pamper me into deeds like those which I myself condemn. But there are many persons here, in the good town of Ghent, to whom I must make you known, as they will be your companions for the future; and, before night, such arrangements shall be made for your lodging and accommodation as will permit of your taking up your abode in the old castle here. There is but one warning I will give you," he continued: "Sir Philip de Morgan is a shrewd and clever man--very zealous in the cause of his King, but somewhat jealous of all other influence. My father esteems him highly, though he is not always ready to follow whither he would lead. You had better be his friend than his enemy; and yet, when there is anything to be done, communicate with me direct, and not through him."

"I will follow your advice, sir, as far as may be," replied Woodville; "but I do not think there is any great chance of Sir Philip de Morgan and myself interfering with each other. I am a soldier; he is a statesman. I will not meddle with his trade, and I think he is not likely to envy me mine. He was a good man at arms, I hear, in his early days; but I fancy he will not easily inclose himself in plate again."

"Good faith," exclaimed the young Count, laughing, "his cuirass would need be shaped like a bow, and have as much iron about it as the great bombard of Oudenarde, which our good folks of Ghent call Mad Meg.^[7] No, no! I do not think that he will ever couch a lance again. But come, my friend, let us to the hall, where we shall find some of the nobles of Burgundy and Flanders waiting for us. Then we will ride to my mother's, where I will make you known to her fair ladies. I have no further business for the day; but yet I must not be absent from my post, as every hour I expect tidings which may require a sudden resolution."

The Prince then led the way into the large hall, through which Richard of Woodville had passed about half an hour before; and there, was instantly surrounded by a number of gentlemen, to whom he introduced his new retainer. Many a noble name, which the young Englishman had often heard of, was mentioned;--Croys, Van Heydes, St. Paul's and Royes, Lalains, and Lignes; and from all, as might be expected, under the circumstances in which he was introduced to them, he received a courteous reception. It must not be denied, however, that although chivalrous customs required a friendly welcome to every adventurous gentleman seeking service at a foreign court, human nature, the same in all ages, left room for jealousy of any one who might aspire to share the favour which each desired to monopolize. Thus, though every one was, as I have said, courteous in demeanour to Richard of Woodville, it was all cold and formal; and many a whispered observation on his appearance and manners, on the accent in which he spoke the language, and on the slight difference of his dress from that of the Burgundian court, marked a willingness to find fault wherever it was possible. For his part, he took little notice of these things, well knowing what he had to expect; and aware that friendship could not be gained at once, he treated all with perfect good humour and civility, in the hope that those who were worthy of any farther consideration would learn in time to esteem him, and to cast away any needless jealousy.

After passing about half an hour in the hall, the young Count selected some five or six of the gentlemen present to accompany him on his visit to his mother, who was lodged in the new palace, called the Cour des Princes; and, as soon as his horses were brought round, he descended, with the young Englishman and the rest, into the court of the castle. He paused for a moment, where, ranged in a line by their horses' sides, he saw the stout yeomen who had accompanied Richard of Woodville thither; and as, with an eye not unskilful even then in judging of thewes and sinews, he marked their light, yet powerful limbs, with an approving smile, he turned to his new friend, saying, in a low voice, "Serviceable stuff there, in the day of need, I doubt not."

"I have every hope they will prove so, my good lord," replied Woodville; and, giving them a sign, each man sprang at once into the saddle, except the one who had led forward his young master's horse, and held the stirrup while he mounted.

As the gay party rode along through the streets of Ghent, the inconstant people, so often in open rebellion against their sovereigns, shouted loud acclamations on the path of the young and graceful Prince, who, in return, bowed low his head, or nodded familiarly to those he knew in the crowd. The distance was but short; but the Count took the opportunity of passing through some of the principal streets of the town, to show the splendour of the greatest manufacturing city at that time in the world, to the young Englishman; and frequently he turned and asked his opinion of this or that as they passed, or pointed out to him the magnificent shops and vast fabrics which lined their road on either side.

There was certainly much to admire; and Richard of Woodville, not insensible of the high importance of the arts, praised, with perhaps a better judgment than most of the haughty nobility of the day would have displayed, the indications of that high commercial prosperity which the courtiers affected to hold in contempt. He would not miss the opportunity, however, of learning something of the kinsman of Ella Brune; and, after answering one of the observations of the Prince, he added--"But as I came from my hostel this morning, sir, I perceive that you have other arts carried to a notable height in the good city of Ghent, besides that of the weavers. I passed by many a fair stall of goldsmiths' work, which seemed to me to display several pieces of fine and curious workmanship."

"Oh! that we have, amongst the best in the world," replied the Count; "though, to say sooth, when we gave you a number of our weavers, to teach you Englishmen that art, we borrowed from you in return much of our skill in working the precious metals. Many of our best goldsmiths, even now, are either Englishmen, or the descendants of those who first came over. I had one right dexterous artificer, who used to dwell with my household, and who is still my servant; but my mother's confessor suspected him of a leaning towards heresy, and exacted that he should be sent forth out of the castle. 'Twas but for a jest at our good father the Pope; but poor Brune made it worse by saying, when questioned, that as there are three Popes, all living, the confessor might place it on the shoulders of him he liked. Many a grave man, I have remarked, will bear anything rather than a jest; and father Claude, from that moment, would not be satisfied till Nicholas Brune was gone."

"Poor fellow! And what became of him?" asked Richard of Woodville; "I have known some of his family in England."

"Oh, he is in a shop at the corner of the market, close to the castle gate," replied the Prince, "and drives a thriving trade; so that he has gained by the exchange--I hope, both in pocket and in prudence. I have not heard any charge against him lately; and I do believe it was but a silly jest, which none but an Englishman would have ventured."

Richard of Woodville smiled, but made no reply; and in a few minutes after, they reached the gates of the palace, from which he followed the Count of Charolois straight to the presence of Margaret of Bavaria, Duchess of Burgundy, whom they found in an inner chamber, surrounded by a small party of young dames and elderly knights, devising, as the term was in those days, upon some motto which had been laid before them.

Amongst faint traces of what had once been great beauty, the countenance of the Princess displayed deep lines of thought and anxiety. She smiled kindly upon the young stranger, and seemed to him to examine his face with more attention than was ordinary, or, perhaps, altogether pleasant. She made no remark, however, but spoke of the Court of England with better information than her son had displayed, and, somewhat to the surprise of the young Englishman, evinced some knowledge of his own family and history; for, although the Court of Burgundy at this time held the place which that of the Count of Foix had formerly filled, and was the centre of all the news, and, we may say, of all the gossip in Europe--though its heralds and its minstrels made it their business, day and night, to collect all the tales, anecdotes, and rumours of every eminent person throughout the chivalrous world, Richard of Woodville was not aware of ever having done anything to merit such sort of notice.

The conversation was soon turned to other subjects, and the Duchess was in the act of giving her son an account, in a jesting tone, of some visits which she had made that morning to several of the religious institutions of the town, when a page entered hastily, bearing a packet in his hand. Approaching direct to the Count of Charolois, he presented it on his knee, saying, "From my lord the Duke. The messenger sought you at the castle, sir, in haste, and then came hither."

The Prince took it with an eager and anxious look, tore off the silk and seal without stopping to cut the cord that bound it, and then read the contents, with a countenance which expressed rather preconceived apprehension, perhaps, than emotion caused by the intelligence which the despatch contained. The Duchess of Burgundy remained seated, but gazed upon her son's face with a look more sad than alarmed; and it seemed to Richard of Woodville that, internally, she was meditating on the future course of that fair and noble youth, amidst all the many perils, cares, and griefs, which surrounded, in those days, the paths of princes, rather than even on the present dangers which might affect her husband.

There is a tender timidity in the love of woman for her offspring, which is generated by none of the other relations of life. The husband, or the brother, or the father, is her stay and support--he is there to protect and to defend; and though she may tremble at his danger, or weep for his misfortune, there may be, and often is, some shade of selfish feeling in the dread and in the sorrow. Such is not the case with the child: it is for him she fears, not for herself,--for him entirely, with emotions unmixed, with devotion unalloyed. To save any other dear one, she might readily sacrifice life--from duty, from enthusiasm, from love. But it would still be a sacrifice, in any other case than that of her child: to save him, it would be an impulse.

The Duchess gazed upon the young Count's face then with calm but sad consideration; and perhaps her own memories supplied somewhat too abundantly the materials for fancy to raise up, without aid, a sad model of the future. She knew that honour, or goodness, or even courage, cannot bring security; that innocence cannot escape malice; that virtue cannot insure peace; that wealth, and power, and a high name, are but as butts whereon to hang the targets at which the arrows of the world are aimed; and she feared for her son, seeing, with prophetic eye, the life of turmoil and contention and peril that lay before him.

As soon as he had read the letter, the Count suffered his hand to drop by his side, and gazed upward for a moment or two in thought;--then, turning gracefully to his mother, he took her hand with a smile, from which was banished every trace or indication of the thoughts that he did not choose to communicate to those around, and saying, "Dear lady mother, we must take counsel," he led her away through a door which those who were acquainted with the palace knew must conduct them to the private cabinet of the Duchess.

The party which remained behind was soon separated into different groups, some of the young nobles who had accompanied the Count taking advantage of the absence of the persons to whom they owed most reverence, for the purpose of saying sweet, whispered things to the fair dames of the Court; some gathering together to inquire of each other, and conjecture amongst themselves, what might be the nature of the tidings received; and two or three others, of either kinder or more pliant dispositions than the rest, seizing the opportunity of cultivating the friendship of the young Englishman. No great time was spent on these occupations, however; for before the Duchess and her son had been gone more than five minutes, the Count returned, and, looking round the circle, said, "Bad tidings scatter good company, my lords. I must ride this very night towards Lille. We will not strip our mother's court here of all her gallant knights and gentlemen, especially in this wise but somewhat turbulent city of Ghent. You, therefore, my lords of Croy, Joigny, St. George, Thyan, and Vergier, with what men are most ready of your trains, I beseech you to give me your fair company ere four of the clock; and you, Master Richard of Woodville, my good friend, if you be so minded, hasten your preparation, and join me at the castle by that hour. You may have occasion," he continued, in a low tone, taking the young Englishman by the arm, "to win the golden spurs, of which we have heard you were disappointed, by no fault of your own, at the battle of Bramham Moor. We shall be back in Ghent before the week be out--so you can leave your baggage here, if you so please. Away then, noble lords!--away!--for we have a long march before us, and, perhaps, a busy day to-morrow."

All was in a moment the bustle and confusion of departure. The young Count turned and went back to the cabinet of his mother, as soon as he had spoken; the ladies of the Duchess rose; and, though some of them paused for an instant, to speak a word in private to those who were about to leave them, retired one by one. The old knights, and those who were to remain in Ghent, walked out to see their friends and comrades mount; and in less than five minutes the hall was cleared, and the court-yard nearly vacant.