Fair Margaret | Page 6

to prevent it; but of a sudden the noise began to die away, and a hush fell upon the place. Then between the uplifted weapons walked a short, richly clad man, who turned suddenly and faced the mob. It was King Henry himself.
"Who dare to draw swords in my streets, before my very palace doors?" he asked in a cold voice.
A dozen hands pointed at Peter.
"Speak," said the king to him.
"Margaret, come here," cried Peter; and the girl was thrust forward to him.
"Sire," he said, "that man," and he pointed to the corpse of Andrew, "tried to do wrong to this maiden, John Castell's child. I, her cousin, threw him down. He drew his sword and came at me, and I killed him with my staff. See, it lies there. Then the Spaniards--his comrades--would have cut me down, and I called for English help. Sire, that is all."
The king looked him up and down.
"A merchant by your dress," he said; "but a soldier by your mien. How are you named?"
"Peter Brome, Sire."
"Ah! There was a certain Sir Peter Brome who fell at Bosworth Field--not fighting for me," and he smiled. "Did you know him perchance?"
"He was my father, Sire, and I saw him slain--aye, and slew the slayer."
"Well can I believe it," answered Henry, considering him. "But how comes it that Peter Brome's son, who wears that battle scar across his face, is clad in merchant's woollen?"
"Sire," said Peter coolly, "my father sold his lands, lent his all to the Crown, and I have never rendered the account. Therefore I must live as I can."
The king laughed outright as he replied:
"I like you, Peter Brome, though doubtless you hate me."
"Not so, Sire. While Richard lived I fought for Richard. Richard is gone; and, if need be, I would fight for Henry, who am an Englishman, and serve England's king."
"Well said, and I may have need of you yet, nor do I bear you any grudge. But, I forgot, is it thus that you would fight for me, by causing riot in my streets, and bringing me into trouble with my good friends the Spaniards?"
"Sire, you know the story."
"I know your story, but who bears witness to it? Do you, maiden, Castell the merchant's daughter?"
"Aye, Sire. The man whom my cousin killed maltreated me, whose only wrong was that I waited to see your Grace pass by. Look on my torn cloak."
"Little wonder that he killed him for the sake of those eyes of yours, maiden. But this witness may be tainted." And again he smiled, adding, "Is there no other?"
Betty advanced to speak, but d'Aguilar, stepping forward, lifted his bonnet from his head, bowed and said in English:
"Your Grace, there is; I saw it all. This gallant gentleman had no blame. It was the servants of my countryman de Ayala who were to blame, at any rate at first, and afterwards came the trouble."
Now the ambassador de Ayala broke in, claiming satisfaction for the killing of his man, for he was still very angry, and saying that if it were not given, he would report the matter to their Majesties of Spain, and let them know how their servants were treated in London.
At these words Henry grew grave, who, above all things, wished to give no offence to Ferdinand and Isabella.
"You have done an ill day's work, Peter Brome," he said, "and one of which my attorney must consider. Meanwhile, you will be best in safe keeping," and he turned as though to order his arrest.
"Sire," exclaimed Peter, "I live at Master Castell's house in Holborn, nor shall I run away."
"Who will answer for that," asked the king, "or that you will not make more riots on your road thither?"
"I will answer, your Grace," said d'Aguilar quietly, "if this lady will permit that I escort her and her cousin home. Also," he added in a low voice, "it seems to me that to hale him to a prison would be more like to breed a riot than to let him go."
Henry glanced round him at the great crowd who were gathered watching this scene, and saw something in their faces which caused him to agree with d'Aguilar.
"So be it, Marquis," he said. "I have your word, and that of Peter Brome, that he will be forthcoming if called upon. Let that dead man be laid in the Abbey till to-morrow, when this matter shall be inquired of. Excellency, give me your arm; I have greater questions of which I wish to speak with you ere we sleep."
CHAPTER II
JOHN CASTELL
When the king was gone, Peter turned to those men who had stood by him and thanked them very heartily. Then he said to Margaret:
"Come, Cousin, that is over for this time, and you have had your wish and seen his Grace.