It is that unhappy man, cut off in the middle of his career; but my boy, my boy, where can he be?
Though Dicky Green ran fast, he was ere long overtaken and brought back. He stood before the gentlemen with one of his most idiotic looks, which made it seem hopeless that anything could be got out of him.
Come, come, Dicky, that will not do for us, said Cousin Peter; rouse yourself up and tell us all you know about this matter. No one will do you any harm, lad.
Thus spoken to kindly, after some time, Dicky looked up and said:
Thee wants to know about the little chap, and if I tells thee, thee wont ask how that one there came by his death?
If we do ask, it will not be to bring any harm on you, Dicky. You may be assured of that, said Cousin Peter.
Dicky thought for some time, and then began to move off through the forest.
He is going towards his mothers cottage; I shouldnt be surprised if little Master Hugh be there safe enough, whispered Sam Barnby.
Bless you, bless you, Sam Barnby, for those words, and I believe that they are true, exclaimed Sir Hugh, as we all followed the idiot, except a couple of men, who were left with the dead body.
In a short time we reached a wretched tumble-down hut of mud, with a roof of thatch, green with age, and full of holes, in which birds had built their nests. There at one end we found a bed-ridden old woman, the idiots mother, and on a little pallet-bed in the further corner lay a blooming child fast asleep. Sir Hugh stepped forward, signing to us not to make a noise, and lifting the child in his arms, bestowed a kiss on its brow. The boy awoke, and seeing his father for it was our dear little Hugh threw his arms round his neck and exclaimed:
Youve come, papa, for Hugh at last; Hugh is so glad, so happy!
It was a happy meeting we all had at the Hall that evening, and grateful were the hearts of Sir Hugh and Lady Worsley at the recovery of their darling boy. I remember that afterwards there was an inquest, and that the magistrates met, but, except from the ravings of poor Dicky Green, there was no evidence how the
deceased gentleman who was found in the forest came by his death. He was accordingly buried quietly in the parish churchyard, and as little fuss as possible made about the matter, though of course it had the usual run of a nine days wonder. I am happy to say that little Hugh grew up, and as he is the father of a number of boys, there is not much chance of the property going out of the old line for want of a male heir.
Story 2-Chapter I
It is well that we should know our foes from our friends, he exclaimed, plucking as he spoke a white rose from a bush which grew near. Let all who claim to be my friends wear henceforth the white rose in their helms or caps.
And I, too, wish to know who are my friends and who my foes, said the Duke of Somerset, walking on rapidly till he reached a red rose-tree which he saw in the distance. I shall expect all those who love me, or the cause I espouse, to wear this flower of blushing hue.
Several knights and gentlemen hurried after the duke, and imitated his example in placing red roses in their caps. The earl watched the proceedings of his rival with a smile.
My challenge is quickly accepted, he observed, turning to those who surrounded him. But am I to stand alone? Have I no friends who wish to show that they are ready to espouse my cause?
Ten thousand swords would be ready to leap from their scabbards the moment you summon them, answered a sturdy knight, Sir Herbert de Beauville. I, for one, am ready to risk castle, and lands, and jewels, and life itself, in your service; and as a pledge of my sincerity, I place this white rose in my helm, and, so help me Heaven, may I ever be true to it and to you while life remains!
The rest of the party, following the knights example, pledged themselves to the earl, and placed white roses in their helms or caps. It was curious to see the two parties, as they henceforth walked apart with the insignia they had so hastily assumed prominently displayed, eyeing each other with glances indicative, it might be, of that fearful struggle which was so soon to commence, and to devastate the fair land of England and deluge it with blood. Some of those present turned traitors to the cause they had espoused, and others more than once changed sides, but amply did Sir Herbert de Beauville fulfil the pledge he had given on that occasion. He was one of those men who consider that black is black, and white is white, and so, having passed his word that he would wear the white rose and support the house of York, he fought on, amid all its changing fortunes, till he had lost the larger portion of his once ample possessions. His ancestral castle of Beauville, in the north of England, in a sadly dilapidated condition, with its park and a few hundred acres of land, was at length all that remained to him. In the fatal fight on Bosworth Field, holding himself bravely, as was his wont, he was desperately wounded. He would have fallen from his horse had not he been supported by his faithful servitor, Roger Bertrand, who led him from the fight to a retired spot near a brook, where he could attend to his gaping wounds, and stanch the life-blood flowing from his veins. In vain, however, the brave squire exerted all his skill. It was too clear to him that his beloved masters hours were numbered. The knight also was well aware that his last blow had been struck for the cause he had so long espoused, and that he should soon be numbered with the dead. He committed, therefore, his wife and young son, who was named after him, to Rogers care.