CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
MAN PROPOSES.
Mrs Cosin, the landlady of the White Hart, prepared a very good supperfor the Commissioners. These gentlemen did not fare badly. First, theyhad a dish of the oysters for which the town was famous, then some roastbeef and a big venison pasty, then some boiled pigeons, then two orthree puddings, a raspberry pie, curds and whey, cheese, with a gooddeal of Malmsey wine and old sack, finishing up with cherries and sweetbiscuits.
They had reached the cherry stage before they began to talk beyond merepassing remarks. Then the priest said:--
"I am somewhat feared, Master Commissioners, you shall reckon Colchesteran infected place, seeing there be here so many touched with the poisonof heresy."
"It all comes of self-conceit," said Sir John.
"Nay," answered Dr Chedsey. "Self-conceit is scarce wont to bring aman to the stake. It were more like to save him from it."
"Well, but why can't they let things alone?" inquired Sir John, helpinghimself to a biscuit. "They know well enough what they shall come to ifthey meddle with matters of religion. Why don't they leave the priestto think for them?"
Dr Chedsey was silent: not because he did not know the answer. Thetime was when he, too, had been one of those now despised and condemnedGospellers. In Edward the Sixth's day, he had preached the full, richGospel of the grace of God: and now he was a deserter to the enemy.Some of such men--perhaps most--grew very hard and stony, and seemed totake positive pleasure in persecuting those who were more faithful thanthemselves: but there were a few with whom the Spirit of God continuedto strive, who now and then remembered from whence they had fallen, andto whom that remembrance brought poignant anguish when it came uponthem. Dr Chedsey appears to have been one of this type. Let us hopethat these wandering sheep came home at last in the arms of the GoodShepherd who sought them with such preserving tenderness. But the sadtruth is that we scarcely know with certainty of one who did so. On theaccession of Elizabeth, when we might have expected them to come forwardand declare their repentance if it were sincere, they did no such thing:they simply dropped into oblivion, and we lose them there.
It is a hard and bitter thing to depart from God: how hard, and howbitter, only those know in this world who try to turn round and comeback. It will be known fully in that other world whence there is nocoming back.
Dr Chedsey, then, was silent: not because he did not understand thematter, but because he knew it too well. Sir John had said theProtestants "knew what they would come to": that was the stake and thefire. But those who persecuted Christ in the person of His elect--whatwere they going to come to? It was not pleasant to think about that.Dr Chedsey was very glad that it was just then announced that a womanbegged leave to speak with their Worships.
"It shall be yon woman that would fain take the children, I cast nodoubt," said Sir John: "and we have had no talk thereupon. Shall shehave them or no?"
"What say you, Father Tye?"
"Truly, that I have not over much trust in Felstede's wife. She waswont of old time to have Bible-readings and prayer-meetings at herhouse; and though she feigneth now to be reconciled and Catholic, yet Idoubt her repentance is but skin deep. The children were better a dealwith the Black Nuns. Yet--there may be some time ere we can despatchthem thither, and if you thought good, Felstede's wife might have themtill then."
"Good!" said Sir John. "Call the woman in."
Ursula Felstede was called in, and stood courtesying at the door. SirJohn put on his stern and pompous manner in speaking to her.
"It seemeth best to the Queen's Grace's Commission," said he, "thatthese children were sent in the keeping of the Sisters of Hedingham: yetas time may elapse ere the Prioress cometh to town, we leave them in thycharge until she send for them. Thou shalt keep them well, learn themto be good Catholics, and deliver them to the Black Nuns when theydemand it."
Ursula courtesied again, and "hoped she should do her duty."
"So do I hope," said the priest. "But I give thee warning, UrsulaFelstede, that thy duty hath not been over well done ere this: and 'tishigh time thou shouldst amend if thou desire not to be brought to book."
Ursula dropped half-a-dozen courtesies in a flurried way.
"Please it, your Reverence, I am a right true Catholic, and shall learnthe children so to be."
"Mind thou dost!" said Sir John.
Dr Chedsey meanwhile had occupied himself in writing out an order forthe children to be delivered to Ursula, to which he affixed the seal ofthe Commission. Armed with this paper, and having taken leave of theCommissioners, with many protests that she would "do her duty," Ursulamade her way to the Castle gate.
"Who walks so late?" asked the porter, looking out of his little wicketto see who it was.
"Good den, Master Style. I am James Felstede's wife of Thorpe, and Icome with an order from their Worships the Commissioners to takeJohnson's children to me; they be to dwell in my charge till the BlackSisters shall send for them."
"Want 'em to-night?" asked the porter rather gruffly.
"Well, what say you?--are they abed? I'm but a poor woman, and cannotafford another walk from Thorpe. I'd best take 'em with me now."
"You're never going back to Thorpe to-night?"
"Well, nay. I'm going to tarry the night at my brother's outside EastGate."
"Bless the woman! then call for the children in the morning, and harrynot honest folk out o' their lives at bed-time."
And Style dashed the wicket to.
"Now, then, Kate! be those loaves ready? The rogues shall be clamouringfor their suppers," cried he to his wife.
Katherine Style, who baked the prison bread, brought out in answer alarge tray, on which three loaves of bread were cut in thick slices,with a piece of cheese and a bunch of radishes laid on each. These werefor the supper of the prisoners. Style shouted for the gaoler, and hecame up and carried the tray into the dungeon, followed by the porter,who was in rather a funny mood, and--as I am sorry to say is often thecase--was not, in his fun, careful of other people's feelings.
"Now, Johnson, hast thou done with those children?" said he. "Thou'dbest make thy last dying speech and confession to 'em, for they're goingaway to-morrow morning."
Johnson looked up with a grave, white face. Little Cissy, who wassitting by Rose Allen, at once ran to her father, and twined her arm inhis, with an uneasy idea of being parted from him, though she did notclearly understand what was to happen.
"Where?" was all Johnson seemed able to say.
"Black Nuns of Hedingham," said the porter. He did not say anythingabout the temporary sojourn with Ursula Felstede.
Johnson groaned and drew Cissy closer to him.
"Don't be feared, Father," said Cissy bravely, though her lips quiveredtill she could hardly speak. "Don't be feared: we'll never do anythingyou've told us not."
"God bless thee, my darling, and God help thee!" said the poor father."Little Cissy, He must be thy Father now." And looking upwards, hesaid, "Lord, take the charge that I give into Thine hands this night!Be Thou the Father to these fatherless little ones, and lead them forthby a smooth way or a rough, so it be the right way, whereby they shallcome to Thy holy hill, and to Thy tabernacle. Keep them as the apple ofThine eye; hide them under the covert of Thy wings! I am no more in theworld; but these are in the world: keep them through Thy Name. Givethem back safe to my Helen and to me in the land that is very far-off,whereinto there shall enter nothing that defileth. Lord, I trust themto no man, but only unto Thee! Here me, O Lord my God, for I rest onThee. Let no man prevail against Thee. I have no might against thiscompany that cometh against me, neither know I what to do; but mine eyesare upon Thee."
The King's Daughters Page 29
