The Outlaw of Torn | Page 8

he hid the bundle. Then, casting off, he rowed slowly
up the Thames until, below the palace walls, he moored near to the little postern gate

which let into the lower end of the garden.
Hiding the skiff as best he could in some tangled bushes which grew to the water's edge,
set there by order of the King to add to the beauty of the aspect from the river side, De
Vac crept warily to the postern and, unchallenged, entered and sought his apartments in
the palace.
The next day, he returned the original key to Brus, telling the old man that he had not
used it after all, since mature reflection had convinced him of the folly of his
contemplated adventure, especially in one whose youth was past, and in whose joints the
night damp of the Thames might find lodgement for rheumatism.
"Ha, Sir Jules," laughed the old gardener, "Virtue and Vice be twin sisters who come
running to do the bidding of the same father, Desire. Were there no desire there would be
no virtue, and because one man desires what another does not, who shall say whether the
child of his desire be vice or virtue ? Or on the other hand if my friend desires his own
wife and if that be virtue, then if I also desire his wife, is not that likewise virtue, since
we desire the same thing ? But if to obtain our desire it be necessary to expose our joints
to the Thames' fog, then it were virtue to remain at home."
"Right you sound, old mole," said De Vac, smiling, "would that I might learn to reason
by your wondrous logic; methinks it might stand me in good stead before I be much
older."
"The best sword arm in all Christendom needs no other logic than the sword, I should
think," said Brus, returning to his work.
That afternoon, De Vac stood in a window of the armory looking out upon the beautiful
garden which spread before him to the river wall two hundred yards away. In the
foreground were box-bordered walks, smooth, sleek lawns, and formal beds of gorgeous
flowering plants, while here and there marble statues of wood nymph and satyr gleamed,
sparkling in the brilliant sunlight, or, half shaded by an overhanging bush, took on a
semblance of life from the riotous play of light and shadow as the leaves above them
moved to and fro in the faint breeze. Farther in the distance, the river wall was hidden by
more closely massed bushes, and the formal, geometric precision of the nearer view was
relieved by a background of vine-colored bowers, and a profusion of small trees and
flowering shrubs arranged in studied disorder.
Through this seeming jungle ran tortuous paths, and the carved stone benches of the open
garden gave place to rustic seats, and swings suspended from the branches of fruit trees.
Toward this enchanting spot slowly were walking the Lady Maud and her little charge,
Prince Richard; all ignorant of the malicious watcher in the window behind them.
A great peacock strutted proudly across the walk before them, and, as Richard ran,
childlike, after it, Lady Maud hastened on to the little postern gate which she quickly
unlocked, admitting her lover, who had been waiting without. Relocking the gate the two
strolled arm in arm to the little bower which was their trysting place.

As the lovers talked, all self-engrossed, the little Prince played happily about among the
trees and flowers, and none saw the stern, determined face which peered through the
foliage at a little distance from the playing boy.
Richard was devoting his royal energies to chasing an elusive butterfly which fate led
nearer and nearer to the cold, hard watcher in the bushes. Closer and closer came the little
Prince, and in another moment, he had burst through the flowering shrubs, and stood
facing the implacable master of fence.
"Your Highness," said De Vac, bowing to the little fellow, "let old DeVac help you catch
the pretty insect."
Richard, having often seen De Vac, did not fear him, and so together they started in
pursuit of the butterfly which by now had passed out of sight. De Vac turned their steps
toward the little postern gate, but when he would have passed through with the tiny
Prince, the latter rebelled.
"Come, My Lord Prince," urged De Vac, "methinks the butterfly did but alight without
the wall, we can have it and return within the garden in an instant."
"Go thyself and fetch it," replied the Prince; "the King, my father, has forbid me stepping
without the palace grounds."
"Come," commanded De Vac, more sternly, "no harm can come to you."
But the child hung back and would not go with him