She went down to the hall, where Harry Featherstone, whose night had
done him more good than hers had, came to meet her, looking much
freshened, and with a bandage over his forehead. He bent low before
her, and offered her his services, but, as he told her, he and Ridley
had been talking it over, and they thought it vain to try to hold out
the Tower, even if any stout men did straggle back from the battle,
for the country round was chiefly Lancastrian, and it would be
scarcely possible to get provisions, or to be relieved. Moreover,
the Gilsland branch of the family, who would be the male heirs, were
on the side of the King and Queen, and might drive her out if she
resisted. Thus there seemed no occasion for the squire to remain,
and he hoped to reach his own family, and save himself from the risk
of being captured.
"No, sir, we do not need you," said Grisell. "If Sir Leonard
Copeland lives and claims this Tower, there is no choice save to
yield it to him. I would not delay you in seeking your own safety,
but only thank you for your true service to my lord and father."
She held out her hand, which Featherstone kissed on his knee.
His horse was terribly jaded, and he thought he could make his way
more safely on foot than in the panoply of an esquire, for in this
war, the poorer sort were hardly touched; the attacks were chiefly
made on nobles and gentlemen. So he prepared to set forth, but
Grisell obtained from him what she had scarcely understood the night
before, the entire history of the fall of her father and brother, and
how gallantly Leonard Copeland had tried to withstand Clifford's
rage.
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