Sir Jocelyn was not without great uneasiness at the result of his interview with De Gondomar. Had it been possible, he would have avoided a rupture with so influential a personage—an event to be dreaded at any time, but especially so at a juncture like the present, when dangers menaced him on all sides, and the only question appeared to be, from what side the first blow would come. His chief anxiety, however, was for Aveline, whose position was one of such strange and imminent peril, against which he knew not how to guard her. He was still left in the same state of uncertainty as to who would be the claimant of her hand; for the mysterious personage in the mask had not appeared again, according to his promise, after the jousts. This suspense was terrible, and Sir Jocelyn found it so difficult of endurance, that he would have preferred the actual presence of the calamity by which he was threatened. His fears were, that the claim he so much dreaded would be made by Sir Giles Mompesson in person, and in that case he had determined forcibly to resist him. And this supposition might account for the delay—since he knew that Sir Giles was suffering severely from the effects of the blow he had dealt him in the tilt-yard.

De Gondomar's were not idle threats, as Sir Jocelyn soon found. On the next day, as he entered the palace, he was informed by the Lord Chamberlain that he was deprived of his office of Gentleman of the Bed-Chamber; and when he demanded the reason of his sudden dismissal, the Duke of Lennox, with a shrug of the shoulders, declared he was unable to afford him any information. But what the Duke refused was afforded by De Gondomar, who at that moment entered the corridor, in company with Buckingham and some other nobles, on his way to the presence-chamber. On seeing his late protégé, the ambassador halted for a moment, and with a smile of triumph said—"You owe your dismissal to me, Sir Jocelyn. I have made some few circumstances concerning you that had just come to my ears known to his Majesty; and as he does not choose to have spies about his person, he has released you from all further attendance upon him."

"In a word, he has forbidden your attendance again at the palace," added Buckingham, who had paused likewise, with an insulting laugh.

"I must to the King, your Grace," cried Sir Jocelyn to the Lord Chamberlain. "I will explain the falsehood of this charge to his Majesty, and show him who is the spy and traitor he has to fear."

"You cannot pass, Sir Jocelyn," said the Duke of Lennox, placing himself in his way, while two halberdiers advanced to bar his passage with their partizans. "I say not a word as to the cause of your disgrace; but I may tell you, that his Majesty is greatly offended with you, and that it would be highly imprudent to approach him in his present frame of mind, even were it permitted you to do so—which it is not. As I have said, you are deprived of your office, and enjoined to absent yourself from the palace, till it shall be his Majesty's pleasure to recall you."

"And that is not likely to be soon the case—eh, Count?" observed Buckingham, with a laugh.

"Not very likely indeed, Marquis," said the ambassador. "I much regret that I have been the means of introducing so unworthy a person to his Majesty; but I have made all the amends in my power."

"Must I tamely endure all these insults and calumnies, your Grace?" cried Sir Jocelyn furiously.

"If you will be guided by me, you will retire," rejoined the Duke of Lennox; "or the provocation you will receive may induce you to do some desperate act which may render your position worse, and put your restoration to the King's favour entirely out of the question."

While Sir Jocelyn was debating whether he should comply with the Duke's advice, the door of the presence-chamber was thrown open; and James, coming forth from it, marched slowly along the corridor.

Our young knight now fondly hoped that the King might deign to look upon him, and so enable him to plead his cause; and perhaps the Lord Chamberlain himself entertained similar expectations, for he did not insist upon Sir Jocelyn's withdrawal, but allowed him to remain within the corridor, though he was kept aloof by the halberdiers. But both were disappointed. James, no doubt, designedly, bestowed his most gracious marks of condescension on Buckingham and De Gondomar, and lingered for a few minutes to laugh and talk with them. After this, as he was passing Sir Jocelyn, he pretended to notice him for the first time, and observed, in a tone of reproof to the Lord Chamberlain, "What doth the spy here, my Lord Duke? I thought you had our orders concerning him. See they are better obeyed in future." And, when the young knight would have spoken, he interrupted him by an imperious gesture, crying out, "Not a word, Sir!—not a word! We will hear naught mair frae ye. We hae heard ower meikle already." And he passed on.

Thus was Mounchensey's disgrace accomplished by his enemies.

CHAPTER XVIII
How Sir Jocelyn's cause was espoused by the 'prentices

Stung almost to madness by the sense of intolerable wrong, our young knight quitted Whitehall, never, as he imagined at the moment, to enter the palace again. Yet he was not humiliated by his disgrace, because he felt it to be wholly unmerited. His enemies had triumphed over him; but he would not have heeded the defeat, provided he could efface the foul stigma cast upon his reputation, and rebut the false charge brought against him by De Gondomar.

With a heart overflowing with rage and bitterness, and with a thousand wild projects passing through his brain, Sir Jocelyn took a boat at Whitehall stairs, and ordered the watermen to row down the river, without assigning any paticular place of landing. After awhile, he succeeded, to a certain extent, in controlling his angry emotions; and as the watermen rested on their oars for a moment, to inquire his destination, he looked round, and perceiving he was just opposite the Three Cranes in the Vintry, he desired to be put ashore there.

No better retreat wherein to recover his composure seemed to offer itself than Madame Bonaventure's comfortable house of entertainment; and thither, therefore, he proceeded, and at his request was shown into a private room overlooking the river. Scarcely was he installed within it, than the buxom hostess, who had caught sight of him as he mounted the stairs, entered, and in her blandest accents, and with her most bewitching smiles, begged to know his commands; declaring that all that her house possessed was at his service.

She was running on thus, but perceiving the young knight to be much disturbed, she instantly changed her tone, and expressed such genuine concern for him, that he could not fail to be moved by it. Without making her an entire confidante, Sir Jocelyn told her enough of what had occurred to make her comprehend his position; and highly indignant she was at the treatment he had experienced. She did her best to console him; and so far succeeded, that he was prevailed upon to partake of some delicacies which she caused Cyprien to set before him, together with a flask of the best vintage in her cellar; and the discussion of these good things, coupled with the hostess's assiduities, certainly operated as a balm upon his wounded feelings.

The repast over, the good-natured dame thought it best to leave him to himself; and drawing his chair to the open window, he began to ruminate upon the many strange events that had happened to him since he first beheld that fair prospect almost from the same place; and he was indulging in this retrospect, when his own name, pronounced in tones familiar to him, caught his ear, and looking forth, he perceived Dick Taverner, seated on a bench in front of the house, drinking in company with some half dozen other apprentices, his boon companions.

The conversation of these roysterers was held in so loud a key that it could not fail to reach his ears; and he soon ascertained that his own dismissal from court was the theme of their discourse, and that they rightly attributed it—doubtless owing to information derived from their hostess—to the instrumentality of De Gondomar. It was evidently Dick Taverner's design to rouse the indignation of his companions; and he had little difficulty in accomplishing his purpose, as they were all composed of very inflammable material, and prone to take fire on the slightest application of the match. Dick denounced the plotting and perfidious Spaniard as a traitor to the King and a subverter of the Protestant faith; and counselled vengeance upon him.

Finding Dick's suggestions eagerly caught up by his companions, and that the number of his listeners was momently increasing, while all were becoming excited by what the orator uttered, Sir Jocelyn, apprehensive that mischief might ensue, thought it right to interfere, and accordingly, leaning forward from the casement, he made himself known to the group below.

On seeing him, and learning who he was, the 'prentices began to shout and declaim vehemently against the Spanish ambassador; and instigated by Dick Taverner, who refused to listen either to the entreaties or commands of the young knight, the whole party seized their cudgels, and dispersing themselves in different directions, vociferated as they went—"Clubs! clubs!"

It was now as vain to arrest them as it would have been to stop the course of a conflagration; and Sir Jocelyn was deploring the damage which must necessarily be done to his cause by these injudicious friends, when Dick Taverner, with a look of exultation, and brandishing his cudgel, burst into the room, crying—"We have heard all from Madame Bonaventure. We have heard of De Gondomar's perfidy, and his Majesty's injustice. We will set you right. The bold London 'prentices have taken your cause in hand, and will avenge you. They will hang the treacherous Spaniard, and burn his house."

"Hark ye, my good friend, Dick Taverner," said Sir Jocelyn, "this must not be. Because I have been unjustly treated, and may perchance find it difficult, if not impossible, to obtain redress, it does not follow that you and your fellow 'prentices are to violate the law. These riotous proceedings will prejudice my cause rather than aid it; and if you have any regard for me you will use your influence with your comrades to check them ere mischief ensue."

"Impossible!" exclaimed Dick. "The matter has gone too far to be stopped now. You might as well attempt to turn back a mill-dam that has burst its bounds, as the headstrong London 'prentices when they have taken up their cudgels. Go through with the business they will. This is not the only quarrel we have with De Gondomar. We hate him for his insolence and arrogance, which have been often displayed towards us; We hate him because he is the sworn enemy of our religion, and would subvert it if he could. As regards myself, I have my own particular reasons for hating him. Do not you meddle with the affair, but leave its arrangement to us."

"But I must interfere," cried Sir Jocelyn; "if you act thus, in spite of all my remonstrances. I must regard you in the light of enemies rather than friends, and shall lend my help to quell the disturbance you will occasion. Be ruled by me, good Dickon, and desist from it. Call in your comrades, who are raging about like savage dogs broken loose."

"If they be dogs," rejoined Dick, with a laugh, "the Spanish ambassador is likely enough to become acquainted with their teeth. But I might whistle loudly enough to them before the staunch hounds would come back to me; and, in good sooth, I have no inclination to obey your commands in his instance, Sir Jocelyn."

So saying, and fearing he might be detained altogether if he waited longer, he darted out of the room, and presently afterwards was heard shouting along the wharf with the loudest of his riotous companions—"No Papists! No Spanish spies! Clubs!—clubs!"

Sir Jocelyn saw that a storm was roused which it would be very difficult to allay; but an effort must be made to do so, even if he were compelled to act against his friends; and he was about to follow the apprentice into the street, when he was prevented by the sudden entrance of a tall personage, wrapped in a black cloak, and masked, whom he at once recognised as the individual who had given him the token to De Gondomar.

"I am glad to have found you, Sir Jocelyn," said this personage. "I have been on the look-out for you to give you a warning. Avoid any place you have been in the habit of frequenting; and, above all, go not near Aveline's dwelling. The officers of the Star-Chamber are on the watch for you; and if found, your arrest is certain."

"I can place little reliance on aught you tell me, Sir," rejoined Sir Jocelyn, "after the trick you played me in causing me to deliver that ring to the Conde de Gondomar. Nothing you can say shall hinder me from going forth as I am accustomed to do; and it is my purpose to proceed ere long to the dwelling you specially caution me to avoid."

"You will repent your rashness, young Sir," said the other; "but I pray you not to go forth till you have heard certain disclosures which I have to make to you, and which I am well assured will induce you to alter your opinion of me."

"I can put no faith in the statements of a hireling, base enough to play the spy for an enemy of his country," rejoined Sir Jocelyn, scornfully. "Stand aside, Sir. Your employer, De Gondomar, is in danger from these hot-headed apprentices; and if you owe him any gratitude for past favours, you may find occasion for its display now."

"What! are you about to take part with your enemy and against your friends? These apprentices are about to redress your wrongs—in a lawless manner it is true—but the circumstances justify their conduct."

"No circumstances can justify outrage, and violation of the law," said Sir Jocelyn; "and if injury be attempted against De Gondomar, I must defend him."

"This is mere madness," cried the other. "Stay and hear what I have to say to you. It imports you much to know it."

"Not now," replied Sir Jocelyn, pushing past him. "On some other occasion."

"You are throwing life and liberty away, Sir Jocelyn, and to no purpose," cried the other. "He heeds me not," he added, in a tone of deep disappointment. "Imprudent that he is! he will thwart all the plans I have formed for his benefit, and at the very moment they have arrived at maturity. I must follow and protect him."

And he too rushed down the stairs, and made all the haste he could across the Vintry wharf after Sir Jocelyn, who was hurrying up a narrow thoroughfare communicating with Thames Street.

Here a numerous body of 'prentices were already collected, holding a consultation as to their plan of attack. After listening to a brief but stirring harangue from Dick Taverner, who got upon a horse-block for the purpose of addressing them, and recommended them to proceed to Ely House, in Holborn, the residence of the offending Ambassador, and there await his return from Whitehall; they approved of his proposal, and unanimously electing Dick as their leader, set forth on their expedition, gathering strength as they went along.

By the time they reached Blackfriars they numbered many hundreds. Little or no interruption was offered them on their route; and the slight hindrance they encountered from a detachment of the city-watch was speedily overborne. Skirting Bridewell, they traversed Shoe Lane, and ascending Holborn Hill, found themselves in the vicinity of Ely House, where they came to a halt, and arranged their forces.

CHAPTER XIX
A Noble Revenge

Nothing could be pleasanter than the situation of the Spanish ambassador's residence, surrounded as it was by noble gardens; but its beauties seemed now likely to be devastated by the blind fury of the apprentices. Much mischief would indeed have been done in a very short time if it had not been for their leader. He authoritatively commanded them to refrain from the work of demolition till they had settled accounts with the ambassador himself, who might be expected each moment, as they had ascertained that he was on his way home from the palace. The information they had received proved to be correct; and ere many minutes elapsed, a magnificent litter, borne by eight stout varlets, and attended by several gentlemen and pages, in the well-known liveries of De Gondomar, was seen to pass through Holborn Bars and advance towards them.

Very soon, however, the bearers of the litter halted, surprised and alarmed at the sight of the crowd investing Ely House; but De Gondomar, who had no apprehension, commanded them to proceed, and they reluctantly obeyed. The 'prentices allowed the litter to come on till they could surround it, when they set up a loud shout, making it evident that mischief was intended.

On this the gentlemen and pages in attendance upon the ambassador drew their swords and put themselves into a posture of defence, endeavouring to keep off the crowd. But their resistance was of little avail. The 'prentices' clubs quickly shivered their weapons, and drove them back.

When he became aware of the jeopardy in which he stood, De Gondomar, anxious to gain time, in the hope that assistance might arrive, demanded of the leader of the furious-looking crew who had drawn aside the curtains of his litter, and ordered him in insolent tones to come forth, why they molested him. The individual appealed to replied that, having heard of his infamous usage of Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey, and of the false accusation he had brought against him to the King, they were determined to inflict upon his Excellency the punishment due to public and notorious slanderers.

"And by what right do you constitute yourselves my judges?" cried De Gondomar. "Take heed what you do—you may bring yourselves within reach of a halter."

"You hear what he says, brother 'prentices?" cried Dick Taverner. "He threatens to hang us, and no doubt if he could carry out his schemes, and bring back the Pope's authority, he would burn us in Smithfield, as they did the holy martyrs in Mary's days. He has charged a true and loyal subject of his Majesty with being a spy. In return we tell him he is the worst of spies—a spy employed by the Pope; and we will teach him the danger of his employment."

"Hands off, base varlets!" exclaimed De Gondomar, endeavouring to shake himself free from the rude grasp imposed upon him.

But, in spite of his resistance, he was dragged from the litter, while a shower of blows from the 'prentices cudgels fell upon his shoulders; and it is probable he would have experienced much severer treatment, if indeed he had escaped with life, if at this moment Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey, sword in hand and followed by Clement Lanyere, had not burst through the throng.

"Ha! as I suspected," cried De Gondomar. "You, Mounchensey, are the author and instigator of this outrage, and are come to see that your tools do their work properly."

"It is false," cried Dick Taverner. "Your Excellency judges of others by yourself. Sir Jocelyn would have checked us if he could."

"I cannot be expected to believe such an assertion as this," cried De Gondomar incredulously.

"Let my actions speak for me," cried Mounchensey. "Friends," he called out, "it is undoubtedly true that I have good ground of complaint against the Conde de Gondomar—that he has deeply injured me—and that I will compel him to make me reparation in due season—but I cannot permit outrage to be offered him; and if aught further be attempted, my arm will be raised in his defence."

"How! can this be possible!" exclaimed De Gondomar in surprise.

"Why, we are fighting Sir Jocelyn's battles, and he turns round upon us!" cried a burly 'prentice, while loud murmurs arose from the others, and the cudgels were again brandished menacingly.

"Leave him to us, Sir Jocelyn," said Dick Taverner.

"Ay, he had better not interfere, of he will come in for his share of the blows," roared several voices.

"I care not what befals me," shouted Mounchensey. "You shall not injure a hair of his Excellency's head while I stand by."

And as he spoke he warded off several blows aimed at the ambassador.

"I am with you, Sir Jocelyn," said Clement Lanyere, clearing a space around them with his long rapier, but avoiding, so far as possible, doing injury to the 'prentices.

At this critical juncture, and when it seemed likely that, owing to his chivalrous interference, Sir Jocelyn would share the ambassador's fate, he being fairly resolved, as he showed, to defend him with his life, a cry was raised that a body of the royal guards were approaching; and as the trampling of horse, accompanied by the clatter of swords, left no doubt of the fact, and as, moreover, the bold 'prentices felt no disposition to encounter regular soldiery, they instantly abandoned their prey and took to their beels, the chief part of them leaping the hedge which then grew along the north side of Holborn, and scouring off through the fields in every direction. Some half dozen were made prisoners by the guard; and amongst these, we regret to state, was the leader of the riotous assembly, Dick Taverner.

"Thou art likely to make acquaintance with the pillory and the cart's tail, if not with the hangman, friend," said the soldier who secured him, with a laugh.

"So I begin to fear," replied Dick. "Alack! and well-a-day! what will become of Gillian!"

"An that be thy mistress's name, friend, you should have thought of her before you engaged in this disturbance. You are likely now to part company with her for ever."

While Dick lamented the predicament in which he had placed himself, the Conde de Gondomar, freed from all apprehension, turned towards his deliverer, and proffering him his hand, said—"You have nobly revenged yourself, Sir Jocelyn. I trust we may be friends once more. I will make you ample reparation for the wrong I have done you."

But the young knight, folding his arms upon his breast, sternly replied—"When reparation is made, Count, I may accept your hand, but not till then."

"At least enter my house," urged the ambassador, "where you will be protected from arrest."

"Do not hesitate, Sir Jocelyn," subjoined Lanyere. "You are in great peril."

But the young knight haughtily refused.

"I will not owe an asylum to you, Count," he said, "till my name be cleared from reproach." And, with a proud salutation, he departed.

The Spanish ambassador shrugged his shoulders, and looked after him with mingled admiration and contempt. He then turned to the promoter, and said, "Come in with me, Lanyere. I have somewhat to say to you."

"I must pray your Excellency to excuse me just now," replied the other. "I have business on hand."

And bowing with nearly as much haughtiness as Sir Jocelyn, he followed in the course taken by the young knight.