Ivan the Terrible; or, Dark Deeds of Night — page 20: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

16 THE TRIAL stream resumed its wonted smoothness, thouzh it swept over the corpse of one of the fairest youths in England. * ve * * * = There are few persons who have not heard or réad of the splendid entry of Richard the First into London,after he had been liberated by his implacable foe, Leopoid of Austiia. This has been so often described, that any attempt of ours to. detail the gorgeous spectacles with which the royal citizens had prepared to welcome him, would, we fear, be considered presumption on our part; nevertheless, we must dwell for a moment on the scene. It was a clear and beautiful day on which the lion-hearted king made his entry into London, and as he rode through the Chepe, thousands of loval yoices greeted his return. The trappings of the horse he rode glittered with the most splendid ornaments, and the dress of the king himself was magnificent in4he extreme. He bowed gracefully to the people, whose shouts filled the air ; and his broad and open features were lit up with raptureas he looked on the smiling countenances of those who surrounded him. Troops of armed citizens followed in his train; bills, pikes, lances, and rich armour flashed in the morning sun; the windows were hung with rich tapestry and cloth of gold, and the beauties of London graced each terrac@and balcony ; indeed, so great was_ thie display made by the citizens of their wealth, that some of the German barons who had accompanied the king to England, were heard to kay, that had the arch-duke known of it, he would not have parted with his prisoner for so moderate a ransom. The procession moved on towards the Guildhall, where a splendid repast was prepared. The king:sat aloft on the dais, surrounded by his nobles. On his right sat Henry Fitz-Alwaine, the mayor, (the first who bore that title in London) and over against him, De Antiloche and Durant, the sheriffs, in their rich dresses and rxolden chains. Inthe body of the hall were tables for the citizens, who were all clad in their best, and many of them in armour. Tn the galleries were minstrels stationed, whose fingers and lungs were exerted to the utmost for the gratification of thir sovereign. The most costly wines were dealt out by the generous Londoners, who were mad with joy for the return of their brave monarch. It was during the height of these revelries that a female form, closely veiled, followed by a young man of a gallant figure, was observed to enter the hall by aside door. Onward she came, un- heeding the looks of surprise and astonishment which greeted her appearance, and, having passed the row of men-at-arms that stood on the steps of the dais, and who made room for her, she advanced towards the king. At this moment a knight stepped forward, and was about to interfere, when Richard spoke— “* Let her advance, Sir Radulf,’’ said he. “‘ My liege,” replied the wily villain, ‘‘might it not be some treasonable design against your grace’s life ?” “Tut, tut! good Sir Radulf,” exclaimed the king, impatiently, ‘¢ shall we, who never shrunk from the scimitars and lances of the Paynim, tremble at, the approach of a timid woman? Come hither, damsel; we will do thee justice, though in the midst of wassail.”” ‘‘ May heaven reward your grace!” said the maiden, with- drawing her veil, and discovering a countenance of dazzling beauty, though disfigured by weeping. Then, kneeling down, she con- tinued, in scarcely audible accents, ‘‘ My liege, I claim justice on a villain knight, who stands in your highness’s presence—he has treacherously slain my only brother.” Sir Radulf’s frame quivered with impatience, but he dared not speak, and contented himself by scowling fiercely on the young kuight who had accompanied the maiden into the hall. “Rise, gentle maiden,” said the king, extending his hand to the suppliant, and name the villain who has robbed you of your kins- man.” ‘¢ He stands on your grace’s right hand,” replied the mourner ; ‘‘ that dark, swarthy one, whom men Call Sir Radulf de Bracy, on him I charge this deed 1” BY BATTLE. Sir Radulf sprang forward with a violence which seemed ag — though he would have annihilated his accuser, when he was checked — by the king, who, in a stern voice, demanded what he had to say to the charge. ; ‘‘ My liege,”’ replied De Bracy, endeavouring to stifle his emotion, ‘tis a vile plot to rob me of my life, or my still dearer goad name. I do deny the charge; by my knighthood, ’tis falae! Who supports this accusation ?” All pressed forward to hear the answer to this demand, when the — young knight before mentioned drew from his bosom a gold chain. | “¢ Your erace shall hear the particulars of this bloody story,” said he, addressing the king. ‘* Last night, some two hours after moon= rise, this lady’s brother and my intimate, Master Geoffery Meryl, was returning home from his kinsman’s house, in the Ez Cheaping, attended only by his serving-man, when they were m savagely slain on their way home. Their bodies were this mor found at the grating under Dowgate, by the sentinel, who gay this gold chain, which he found clutched in the death-grasp of my rourdered friend ; there is a medal attached to it which bears the arms of Sir Radulfde Bracy! from whose neck the. chain was, ' doubtless, torn in the deadly struggle.” ny De Bracy’s dark countenance grew black as a thunder-clond, and then changed to a livid hue, while he fiercely replied, oiM ‘‘This is a well-hatched conspiracy ; but am I to be condemned because, forsooth, acliain thus marked has been found upon th murdered man? I Jost it in a ruffle at the Conduit, in the Chepe, some eight months since.” “4 “* 2Tis false !”’ said the young knight, *‘ thou hadst it round f ly neck but yesterday—yet why need I argue with thee? Bring for- ward his partner. Here is one of thy accomplices.” oR As he spoke a man-at-arms led forward the ruffian Leof, strongly 7 bound. " “¢ Ah, villain !”?.cried Sir Radulf, while every nerve quivered with rage, ‘‘ art thou, too, leagued against me?” — a ‘Aye, Sir Knight,” growled the ruffian, in reply. ‘ You have deceived me, but | have now my revenge by cheating thee; nay, never chafe it, I have looked on a sterner face than thine, and quailed not. Did you not tell us that the men we slew were aa else should not my dagger have been drawn against them! t ‘« Peace, slave!” said the king, mterrupting Leof. ‘* What ho! a guard there! Take this villain to the Chepe, and let him be hung ~ forthwith. And thou, Sir Radulf, what hast thou 'to say to this” charge?” , ‘““My liege,” repliel De Bracy, kneeling before the king, “ I am innocent, so help me heaven and St. George! and I claim the combat against any knight who shall gainsay me.” \ He rose as lie spoke, and unfastening the jewelled clasp which confined his hood at the throat, he drew it from his head, and threw it on the floor, crying out in a voice of thunder, ** Here is my gage!” All eyes were turned on the young knight who had made the — accusation, while he, striding forward, flung down his hood, scized the hand of Sir Radulf, and in a firm and solemn tone, using the customary forms on those occasions, said, } “Radulf de Bracy, whom I hold by the hand, I do here — charge thee that thou hast treacherously slain my dear frieid, — Geoffery Meryl; and this I am ready to maintain by my body as a lawful man and a true knight; and that 80 help me God and his saints !” ade my oppcal ase He rung the hand of De Bracy as he spok : him with disdain. Sra spoke, and flung it from The guilty knight smiled darkly, and taking the hand of his accuser, said, ‘‘ Walter of Wallington, whom I hold by the hand, I do here — Geers aa won naa lied in thy throat; for that I did not Slay thy iriend, as thou hast alleged; and this I am read 1 by my body as ‘a true knight.” Pa ; Sa ATT (To be concluded in No. 8.) INNOTICE ?! . With Number 3 will be presented an Illustrated Supplement, containing the opening Chapters of a new Christmas Story, entitled, THE GAOST’S HOUSE IN THE LONELY WALK cbookereom