“I shall have no choice,” sighed Edward.
“Consult me before you assent to any betrothal, sire.”
“I will,” replied Edward, with a smile, as he went forth with his uncle.
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Chapter XV
OF XIT’S PERILOUS FLIGHT ACROSS THE TOWER MOAT ON PACOLET’S HORSE
Accompanied by Seymour, and followed by Fowler and Xit, with a train of pages and henchmen, Edward ascended to the outer ballium wall by a flight of stone steps opposite the Broad Arrow Tower, and proceeded slowly towards the large circular bastion, known as the Brass Mount, situated on the northeastern extremity of the ramparts. Here he halted, and tried to keep up a conversation with his uncle, but it was evident, from his heedless manner, that his thoughts were absent. At length Jane appeared upon the ramparts with her father, and uttering an exclamation of delight, the young king hurried off to meet her. When within a few paces of his fair cousin, however, he stopped, as if struck by the indecorum of the proceeding, his cheeks all aflame, yet not burning a whit more brightly than those of the Lady Jane, who stopped as he stopped, and made him a lowly obeisance. The bashfulness with which Edward had been suddenly afflicted continued until the arrival of Sir Thomas Seymour, whose light laughter and playful remarks soon dissipated it, and he became voluble enough. By his desire the Lady Jane walked on with him, and he at once engaged her in discourse, not upon light and trivial themes, but on grave subjects such as he had discussed with her in the privy-garden. It was good to see them thus occupied, but it would have been better to have listened to their talk. Two such children have rarely come together. Two beings more perfectly adapted to each other could not be found, and yet—But we will not peer into futurity. The Marquis of Dorset and Sir Thomas Seymour followed at a respectful distance, both enchanted at what was taking place. The latter felt confident of the realization of his ambitious designs; the former regarded his daughter as already queen.
Nearly an hour passed in this way—the progress of time being unnoted by the young king and his fair companion—when Edward, who had been hitherto almost unobservant of aught save his cousin, remarked that something unusual was taking place on the opposite side of the Tower moat. A large circle had been formed, in the midst of which a mountebank was performing some feats, which seemed, from the shouts and applause they elicited, to astonish and delight the beholders. What the feats were the king could not make out. Soon afterwards the crowd began to disperse, and the mountebank was seen carrying off a wooden horse, with which no doubt he had been diverting the spectators.
“What tricks hath the fellow been playing with that wooden horse?” inquired the king, of Seymour.
“Nay, my liege, it passeth my power to satisfy you,” answered Sir Thomas.
“An please your Majesty, I can give you the information you seek,” said Xit, stepping forward. “‘T is Pacolet, the French saltinbanco, and his Enchanted Steed. To ordinary observation the horse seems made of wood; but Pacolet declares it is endowed with magic power, and will fly with its rider through the air. I have never seen the feat done, so I dare not vouch for the truth of the statement.”
“Why, thou simple knave, ‘t is an old tale thou art reciting,” observed the Lady Jane. “Pacolet’s enchanted horse is described in the French romance of Valentine and Orson.”
“I know not how that may be, most gracious lady, for I am not well read in French romance,” replied Xit, “but yonder fellow is Pacolet, and that is his horse, and a wonderful little horse it is. Your Majesty may smile, but I suspect there is magic in it.”
“If so, the magician ought to be burned,” observed Edward; “but I do not think he is a real dealer in the black art.”
“What will you say, sire, when I tell you that this sorcerer—this Pacolet—affirms that his horse can carry me across the Tower moat?”