The Story of Francis Cludde

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Weyman Stanley John. The Story of Francis Cludde

CHAPTER I "HÉ, SIRE ANE, HÉ!"

CHAPTER II. IN THE BISHOP'S ROOM

CHAPTER III "DOWN WITH PURVEYORS!"

CHAPTER IV. TWO SISTERS OF MERCY

CHAPTER V. MISTRESS BERTRAM

CHAPTER VI. MASTER CLARENCE

CHAPTER VII. ON BOARD THE "FRAMLINGHAM."

CHAPTER VIII. A HOUSE OF PEACE

CHAPTER IX. PLAYING WITH FIRE

CHAPTER X. THE FACE IN THE PORCH

CHAPTER XI. A FOUL BLOW

CHAPTER XII. ANNE'S PETITION

CHAPTER XIII. A WILLFUL MAN'S WAY

CHAPTER XIV. AT BAY IN THE GATEHOUSE

CHAPTER XV. BEFORE THE COURT

CHAPTER XVI. IN THE DUKE'S NAME

CHAPTER XVII. A LETTER THAT HAD MANY ESCAPES

CHAPTER XVIII. THE WITCH'S WARNING

CHAPTER XIX. FERDINAND CLUDDE

CHAPTER XX. THE COMING QUEEN

CHAPTER XXI. MY FATHER

CHAPTER XXII. SIR ANTHONY'S PURPOSE

CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST MASS

CHAPTER XXIV. AWAITING THE BLOW

CHAPTER XXV. IN HARBOR AT LAST

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Chancellor was lodged in the great chamber on the southern side of the courtyard, a room which we called the Tapestried Chamber, and in which tradition said that King Henry the Sixth had once slept. It was on the upper floor, and for this reason free from the damp air which in autumn and winter rose from the moat and hung about the lower range of rooms. It was besides, of easy access from the hall, a door in the gallery of the latter leading into an anteroom, which again opened into the Tapestried Chamber; while a winding staircase, starting from a dark nook in the main passage of the house, also led to this state apartment, but by another and more private door.

I reached the antechamber with a stout heart in my breast, though a little sobered by my summons, and feeling such a reaction from the heat of a few minutes before as follows a plunge into cold water. In the anteroom I was bidden to wait while the great man's will was taken, which seemed strange to me, then unused to the mummery of Court folk. But before I had time to feel much surprise, the inner door was opened, and I was told to enter.

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Yet if I would not accept his offer it was clear I must fend for myself. His threats meant as much as that, and I smiled sternly as I found necessity at one with inclination. I would leave Coton End at once, and henceforth I would fight for my own hand. I would have no name until I had made for myself a new one.

This resolve formed, I turned and went back to the house, and felt my way to my own chamber. The moonlight poured through the lattice and fell white on my pallet. I crossed the room and stood still. Down the middle of the coverlet-or my eyes deceived me-lay a dark line.

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