CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
AN INVASION.
"What shall be the maiden's fate? Who shall be the maiden's mate?" Scott.
No Giles Headley appeared to greet the travellers, though Kit Smallboneshad halted at Canterbury, to pour out entreaties to Saint Thomas, andthe vow of a steel and gilt reliquary of his best workmanship to containthe old shoe, which a few years previously had so much disgusted Erasmusand his companion.
Poor old fellow, he was too much crest-fallen thoroughly to enjoy eventhe gladness of his little children; and his wife made no secret of herprevious conviction that he was too dunderheaded not to run into somecoil, when she was not there to look after him. The alderman was moremerciful. Since there had been no invasion from Salisbury, he hadregretted the not having gone himself to Ardres, and he knew pretty wellthat Kit's power lay more in his arms than in his brain. He did notwonder at the small gain, nor at the having lost sight of the young man,and confidently expected the lost ones soon to appear.
As to Dennet, her eyes shone quietly, and she took upon herself to senddown to let Mistress Randall know of her nephew's return, and invite herto supper to hear the story of his doings. The girl did not look at alllike a maiden uneasy about her lost lover, but much more like oneenjoying for the moment the immunity from a kind of burthen; and, as shesmiled, called for Stephen's help in her little arrangements, andtreated him in the friendly manner of old times, he could not but wonderat the panic that had overpowered him for a time like a fever of themind.
There was plenty to speak of in the glories of the Field of the Cloth ofGold, and the transactions with the knights and nobles; and Stephen heldhis peace as to his adventure, but Dennet's eyes were sharper thanKit's. She spied the remains of the bruise under his black curly hair;and while her father and Tib were unravelling the accounts from Kit'sbrain and tally-sticks, she got the youth out into the gallery, andobserved, "So thou hast a broken head. See here are grandmother's lily-leaves in strong waters. Let me lay one on for thee. There, sit downon the step, then I can reach."
"'Tis well-nigh whole now, sweet mistress," said Stephen, complyinghowever, for it was too sweet to have those little fingers busy abouthim, for the offer to be declined.
"How gatst thou the blow?" asked Dennet. "Was it at single-stick?Come, thou mayst tell me. 'Twas in standing up for some one."
"Nay, mistress, I would it had been."
"Thou hast been in trouble," she said, leaning on the baluster abovehim. "Or did ill men set on thee?"
"That's the nearest guess," said Stephen. "'Twas that tall father ofmine aunt's, the fellow that came here for armour, and bought poorMaster Michael's sword."
"And sliced the apple on thine hand. Ay?"
"He would have me for one of his Badgers."
"Thee! Stephen!" It was a cry of pain as well as horror.
"Yea, mistress; and when I refused, the fellow dealt me a blow, and laidme down senseless, to bear me off willy nilly, but that good old LucasHansen brought mine uncle to mine aid--"
Dennet clasped her hands. "O Stephen, Stephen! Now I know how good theLord is. Wot ye, I asked of Tibble to take me daily to Saint Faith's tocrave of good Saint Julian to have you all in his keeping, and saith heon the way, `Methinks, mistress, our dear Lord would hear you if youspake to Him direct, with no go-between.' I did as he bade me, Stephen,I went to the high Altar, and prayed there, and Tibble went with me, andlo, now, He hath brought you back safe. We will have a mass ofthanksgiving on the very morn."
Stephen's heart could not but bound, for it was plain enough for whomthe chief force of these prayers had been offered.
"Sweet mistress," he said, "they have availed me indeed. Certes, theywarded me in the time of sore trial and temptation."
"Nay," said Dennet, "thou _couldst_ not have longed to go away fromhence with those ill men who live by slaying and plundering?"
The present temptation was to say that he had doubted whether thiscourse would not have been for the best both for himself and for her;but he recollected that Giles might be at the gate, and if so, he shouldfeel as if he had rather have bitten out his tongue than have let Dennetknow the state of the case, so he only answered--
"There be sorer temptations in the world for us poor rogues than littlehome-biding house crickets like thee wot of, mistress. Well that ye canpray for us without knowing all!"
Stephen had never consciously come so near lovemaking, and his honestface was all one burning glow with the suppressed feeling, while Dennetlingered till the curfew warned them of the lateness of the hour, bothwith a strange sense of undefined pleasure in the being together in thesummer twilight.
Day after day passed on with no news of Giles or Will Wherry. Thealderman grew uneasy, and sent Stephen to ask his brother to write toRandall, or to some one else in Wolsey's suite, to make inquiries atBruges. But Ambrose was found to have gone abroad in the train of SirThomas More, and nothing was heard till their return six weeks later,when Ambrose brought home a small packet which had been conveyed to himthrough one of the Emperor's suite. It was tied up with a long toughpale wisp of hair, evidently from the mane or tail of some Flemishhorse, and was addressed, "To Master Ambrose Birkenholt, menial clerk tothe most worshipful Sir Thomas More, Knight, Under Sheriff of the Cityof London. These greeting--"
Within, when Ambrose could open the missive, was another small parcel,and a piece of brown coarse paper, on which was scrawled--
"Good Ambrose Birkenholt,--I pray thee to stand, my friend, and let allknow whom it may concern, that when this same billet comes to hand, Ishall be far on the march to High Germany, with a company of lustyfellows in the Emperor's service. They be commanded by the good knight,Sir John Fulford.
"If thou canst send tidings to my mother, bid her keep her heart up, forI shall come back a captain, full of wealth and honour, and that will bebetter than hammering for life--or being wedded against mine own will.There never was troth plight between my master's daughter and me, and mytime is over, so I be quit with them, and I thank my master for hisgoodness. They shall all hear of me some of these days. Will Wherry ismy groom, and commends him to his mother. And so, commending thee andall the rest to Our Lady and the saints,
"Thine to command,
"Giles Headley,
"_Man-at-Arms in the Honourable Company of Sir John Fulford, Knight_."
On a separate strip was written--
"Give this packet to the little Moorish maid, and tell her that I willbring her better by and by, and mayhap make her a knight's lady; but onthy life, say nought to any other."
It was out now! Ambrose's head was more in Sir Thomas's books than inreal life at all times, or he would long ago have inferred something--from the jackdaw's favourite phrase--from Giles's modes of haunting hissteps, and making him the bearer of small tokens--an orange, a simnelcake, a bag of walnuts or almonds to Mistress Aldonza, and of thesmiles, blushes, and thanks with which she greeted them. Nay, had shenot burst into tears and entreated to be spared when Lady More wanted tomake a match between her and the big porter, and had not her distressled Mistress Margaret to appeal to her father, who had said he should assoon think of wedding the silver-footed Thetis to Polyphemus. "Tilleyvalley! Master More," the lady had answered, "will all your fine pagangods hinder the wench from starving on earth, and leading apes in hell."
Margaret had answered that Aldonza should never do the first, and SirThomas had gravely said that he thought those black eyes would lead manya man on earth before they came to the latter fate.
Ambrose hid the parcel for her deep in his bosom before he askedpermission of his master to go to the Dragon court with the rest of thetidings.
"He always was an unmannerly cub," said Master Headley, as he read theletter. "Well, I've done my best to make a silk purse of a sow's ear!I've done my duty by poor Robert's son, and if he will be such a fool asto run after blood and wounds, I have no more to say! Though 'tis pityof the old name! Ha! what's this? `Wedded a
gainst my will--no trothplight.' Forsooth, I thought my young master was mighty slack. He hathsome other matter in his mind, hath he? Run into some coil mayhap witha beggar wench! Well, we need not be beholden to him. Ha, Dennet, mymaid!"
Dennet screwed up her little mouth, and looked very demure, but shetwinkled her bright eyes, and said, "My heart will not break, sir; I amin no haste to be wed."
Her father pinched her cheek and said she was a silly wench; but perhapshe marked the dancing step with which the young mistress went about herhousehold cares, and how she was singing to herself songs that certainlywere not "Willow! willow!"
Ambrose had no scruple in delivering to Aldonza the message and token,when he overtook her on the stairs of the house at Chelsea, carrying upa lapful of roses to the still-room, where Dame Alice More was rejoicingin setting her step-daughters to housewifely tasks.
There came a wonderful illumination and agitation over the girl'susually impassive features, giving all that they needed to make themsurpassingly beautiful.
"Woe is me!" was, however, her first exclamation. "That he should havegiven up all for me! Oh! if I had thought it!" But while she spoke asif she were shocked and appalled, her eyes belied her words. They shonewith the first absolute certainty of love, and there was no realising asyet the years of silent waiting and anxiety that must go by, nay,perhaps an entire lifetime of uncertainty of her lover's truth oruntruth, life or death.
Dame Alice called her, and in a rambling, maundering way, charged herwith loitering and gadding with the young men; and Margaret saw by hercolour and by her eyes that some strange thing had happened to her.Margaret had, perhaps, some intuition; for was not her heart very tendertowards a certain young barrister by name Roper whom her father doubtedas yet, because of his Lutheran inclinations. By and by she discoveredthat she needed Aldonza to comb out her long dark hair, and ere long,she had heard all the tale of the youth cured by the girl's father, andall his gifts, and how Aldonza deemed him too great and too good forher, (poor Giles!) though she knew she should never do more than look upto him with love and gratitude from afar. And she never so much asdreamt that he would cast an eye on her save in kindness. Oh yes, sheknew what he had taught the daw to say, but then she was a child, shedurst not deem it more. And Margaret More was more kind and eager thanworldly wise, and she encouraged Aldonza to watch and wait, promisedprotection from all enforced suits and suitors, and gave assurances ofshelter as her own attendant as long as the girl should need it.
Master Headley, with some sighing and groaning, applied himself to writeto the mother at Salisbury what had become of her son; but he had onlyspent one evening over the trying task, when just as the supper bell wasringing, with Master Hope and his wife as guests, there were horses'feet in the court, and Master Tiptoff appeared, with a servant onanother horse, which carried besides a figure in camlet, on a pillion.No sooner was this same figure lifted from her steed and set down on thesteps, while the master of the house and his daughter came out to greether, than she began, "Master Alderman Headley, I am here to know whatyou have done with my poor son!"
"Alack, good cousin!"
"Alack me no alacks," she interrupted, holding up her riding rod. "I'llhave no dissembling, there hath been enough of that, Giles Headley.Thou hast sold him, soul and body, to one of yon cruel, bloodthirstyplundering, burning captains, that the poor child may be slain andmurthered! Is this the fair promises you made to his father--wiling himaway from his poor mother, a widow, with talking of teaching him thecraft, and giving him your daughter! My son, Tiptoff here, told me thespousal was delayed and delayed, and he doubted whether it would evercome off, but I thought not of this sending him beyond seas, to makemerchandise of him. And you call yourself an alderman! The gown shouldbe stript off the back of you, and shall be, if there be any justice inLondon for a widow woman."
"Nay, cousin, you have heard some strange tale," said Master Headley,who, much as he would have dreaded the attack beforehand, faced it themore calmly and manfully because the accusation was so outrageous.
"Ay, so I told her," began her son-in-law, "but she hath been neither tohave nor to hold since the--"
"And how should I be to have or to hold by a nincompoop like thee," shesaid, turning round on him, "that would have me sit down and be contentforsooth, when mine only son is kidnapped to be sold to the Turks or towork in the galleys, for aught I know."
"Mistress!" here Master Hope's voice came in, "I would counsel you tospeak less loud, and hear before you accuse. We of the City of Londonknow Master Alderman Headley too well to hear him railed against."
"Ah! you're all of a piece," she began; but by this time Master Tiptoffhad managed at least to get her into the hall, and had exchanged wordsenough with the alderman to assure himself that there was anexplanation, nay, that there was a letter from Giles himself. This theindignant mother presently was made to understand--and as the aldermanhad borrowed the letter in order to copy it for her, it was given toher. She could not read, and would trust no one but her son-in-law toread it to her. "Yea, you have it very pat," she said, "but how am I tobe assured 'tis not all writ here to hoodwink a poor woman like me."
"'Tis Giles's hand," averred Tiptoff.
"And if you will," added the alderman, with wonderful patience, "to-morrow you may speak with the youth who received it. Come, sit down andsup with us, and then you shall learn from Smallbones how this mischancebefel, all from my sending two young heads together, and one who, thougha good fellow, could not hold all in rule."
"Ay--you've your reasons for anything," she muttered, but being bothweary and hungry, she consented to eat and drink, while Tiptoff, who wasevidently ashamed of her violence, and anxious to excuse it, managed toexplain that a report had been picked up at Romsey, by a bare-footedfriar from Salisbury, that young Giles Headley had been seen at Ghent byone of the servants of a wool merchant, riding with a troop of FreeCompanions in the Emperor's service. All the rest was deduced from thisintelligence by the dame's own imagination.
After supper she was invited to interrogate Kit and Stephen, and hergrief and anxiety found vent in fierce scolding at the misrule which hadpermitted such a villain as Fulford to be haunting and tempting poorfatherless lads. Master Headley had reproached poor Kit for the samething, but he could only represent that Giles, being a freeman, was nolonger under his authority. However, she stormed on, being absolutelyconvinced that her son's evasion was every one's fault but his own. Nowit was the alderman for misusing him, overtasking the poor child, anddeferring the marriage, now it was that little pert poppet, Dennet, whohad flouted him, now it was the bad company he had been led into--thepoor babe who had been bred to godly ways.
The alderman was really sorry for her, and felt himself to blame so faras that he had shifted the guidance of the expedition to such aninsufficient head as poor Smallbones, so he let her rail on as much asshe would, till the storm exhausted itself, and she settled into thetrust that Giles would soon grow weary and return. The good man feltbound to show her all hospitality, and the civilities to country cousinswere in proportion to the rarity of their visits. So Mrs Headleystayed on after Tiptoff's return to Salisbury, and had the best viewfeasible of all the pageants and diversions of autumn. She saw somemagnificent processions of clergy, she was welcomed at a civic banquetand drank of the loving cup, and she beheld the Lord Mayor's Show in allits picturesque glory of emblazoned barges on the river. In fact, shefound the position of denizen of an alderman's household so veryagreeable that she did her best to make it a permanency. Nay, Dennetsoon found that she considered herself to be waiting there and keepingguard till her son's return should establish her there, and that sheviewed the girl already as a daughter--for which Dennet was by no meansobliged to her! She lavished counsel on her hostess, found fault withthe maidens, criticised the cookery, walked into the kitchen and still-room with assistance and directions, and even made a strong effort topossess herself of the keys.
It must be confess
ed that Dennet was saucy! It was her weapon of self-defence, and she considered herself insulted in her own house.
There she stood, exalted on a tall pair of pattens before the stoutoaken table in the kitchen where a glowing fire burned; pewter, red andyellow earthenware, and clean scrubbed trenchers made a goodly show, acouple of men-cooks and twice as many scullions obeyed her behests--onlythe superior of the two first ever daring to argue a point with her.There she stood, in her white apron, with sleeves turned up, daintilycompounding her mince-meat for Christmas, when in stalked Mrs Headleyto offer her counsel and aid--but this was lost in a volley of barkingfrom the long-backed, bandy-legged, turnspit dog, which was awaiting itsturn at the wheel, and which ran forward, yapping with malign intentionstowards the dame's scarlet-hosed ankles.
She shook her petticoats at him, but Dennet tittered even whiledeclaring that Tray hurt nobody. Mrs Headley reviled the dog, and thenproceeded to advise Dennet that she should chop her citron finer.Dennet made answer "that father liked a good stout piece of it."Mistress Headley offered to take the chopper and instruct her how tocompound all in the true Sarum style.
"Grammercy, mistress, but we follow my grand-dame's recipe!" saidDennet, grasping her implement firmly.
"Come, child, be not above taking a lesson from thine elders! Where'sthe goose? What?" as the girl looked amazed, "where hast thou lived notto know that a live goose should be bled into the mince-meat?"
"I have never lived with barbarous, savage folk," said Dennet--andtherewith she burst into an irrepressible fit of laughter, trying invain to check it, for a small and mischievous elf, freshly promoted tothe office of scullion, had crept up and pinned a dish-cloth to thesubstantial petticoats, and as Mistress Headley whisked round to seewhat was the matter, like a kitten after its tail, it followed her likea train, while she rushed to box the ears of the offender, crying:
"You set him on, you little saucy vixen! I saw it in your eyes. Letthe rascal be scourged."
"Not so," said Dennet, with prim mouth and laughing eyes. "Far be itfrom me! But 'tis ever the wont of the kitchen, when those come therewho have no call thither."
Mistress Headley flounced away, dish-cloth and all, to go whimpering tothe alderman with her tale of insults. She trusted that her cousinwould give the pert wench a good beating. She was not a whit too oldfor it.
"How oft did you beat Giles, good kinswoman?" said Dennet demurely, asshe stood by her father.
"Whisht, whisht, child," said her father, "this may not be! I cannothave my guest flouted."
"If she act as our guest, I will treat her with all honour andcourtesy," said the maiden; "but when she comes where we look not forguests, there is no saying what the black guard may take it on them todo."
Master Headley was mischievously tickled at the retort, and not withouthope that it might offend his kinswoman into departing; but shecontented herself with denouncing all imaginable evils from Dennet'sungoverned condition, with which she was prevented in her beneficencefrom interfering by the father's foolish fondness. He would rue theday!
Meantime if the alderman's peace on one side was disturbed by hisvisitor, on the other, suitors for Dennet's hand gave him little rest.She was known to be a considerable heiress, and though Mistress Headleygave every one to understand that there was a contract with Giles, andthat she was awaiting his return, this did not deter more wooers thanDennet ever knew of, from making proposals to her father. Jasper Hopewas offered, but he was too young, and besides, was a mercer--and Dennetand her father were agreed that her husband must go on with the trade.Then there was a master-armourer, but he was a widower with sons anddaughters as old as Dennet, and she shook her head and laughed at thebare notion. There also came a young knight who would have turned theDragon court into a tilt-yard, and spent all the gold that long years ofprudent toil had amassed.
If Mistress Headley deemed each denial the result of her vigilance forher son's interests, she was the more impelled to expatiate on the follyof leaving a maid of sixteen to herself, to let the household go to rackand ruin; while as to the wench, she might prank herself in her ownconceit, but no honest man would soon look at her for a wife, if herfather left her to herself, without giving her a good stepmother, or atleast putting a kinswoman in authority over her.
The alderman was stung. He certainly had warmed a snake on his hearth,and how was he to be rid of it? He secretly winked at the resumption ofa forge fire that had been abandoned, because the noise and smokeincommoded the dwelling-house, and Kit Smallbones hammered his loudestthere, when the guest might be taking her morning nap; but this had noeffect in driving her away, though it may have told upon her temper; andgood-humoured Master Headley was harassed more than he had ever been inhis life.
"It puts me past my patience," said he, turning into Tibble's specialworkshop one afternoon. "Here hath Mistress Hillyer of the Eagle beenwith me full of proposals that I would give my poor wench to thatscapegrace lad of hers, who hath been twice called to account before theguild, but who now, forsooth, is to turn over a new leaf."
"So I wis would the Dragon under him," quoth Tibble.
"I told her 'twas not to be thought of, and then what does the dame butsniff the air and protest that I had better take heed, for there may notbe so many who would choose a spoilt, misruled maid like mine. There'sthe work of yonder Sarum woman. I tell thee, Tib, never was bull in thering more baited than am I."
"Yea, sir," returned Tib, "there'll be no help for it till our youngmistress be wed."
"Ay! that's the rub! But I've not seen one whom I could mate with her--let alone one who would keep up the old house. Giles would have donethat passably, though he were scarce worthy of the wench, evenwithout--" An expressive shake of the head denoted the rest. "And nowif he ever come home at all, 'twill be as a foul-mouthed, plunderingscarecrow, like the kites of men-at-arms, who, if they lose not theirlives, lose all that makes an honest life in the Italian wars. I wouldhave writ to Edmund Burgess, but I hear his elder brother is dead, andhe is driving a good traffic at York. Belike too he is wedded."
"Nay," said Tibble, "I could tell of one who would be true and faithfulto your worship, and a loving husband to Mistress Dennet, ay, and wouldbe a master that all of us would gladly cleave to. For he is godlyafter his lights, and sound-hearted, and wots what good work be, and cando it."
"That were a son-in-law, Tib! Of who speakest thou? Is he of goodbirth?"
"Yea, of gentle birth and breeding."
"And willing? But that they all are. Wherefore then hath he never madesuit?"
"He hath not yet his freedom."
"Who be it then?"
"He that made this elbow-piece for the suit that Queen Margaret orderedfor the little King of Scots," returned Tibble, producing an exquisiteminiature bit of workmanship.
"Stephen Birkenholt! The fool's nephew! Mine own prentice!"
"Yea, and the best worker in steel we have yet turned out. Since thesickness of last winter hath stiffened my joints and dimmed mine eyes, Ihad rather trust dainty work such as this to him than to myself."
"Stephen! Tibble, hath he set thee on to this?"
"No, sir. We both know too well what becometh us; but when you werecasting about for a mate for my young mistress, I could not but thinkhow men seek far, and overlook the jewel at their feet."
"He hath nought! That brother of his will give him nought."
"He hath what will be better for the old Dragon and for your worship'sself, than many a bag of gold, sir."
"Thou sayst truly there, Tib. I know him so far that he would not bethe ingrate Jack to turn his back on the old master or the old man. Heis a good lad. But--but--I've ever set my face against the prenticewedding the master's daughter, save when he is of her own house, likeGiles. Tell me, Tibble, deemst thou that the varlet hath dared to lifthis eyes to the lass?"
"I wot nothing of love!" said Tibble, somewhat grimly. "I have seennought. I only told your worship where a good son and
a good mastermight be had. Is it your pleasure, sir, that we take in a freight ofsea-coal from Simon Collier for the new furnace? His is purest, if amark more the chaldron."
He spoke as if he put the recommendation of the son and master on thesame line as that of the coal. Mr Headley answered the businessmatters absently, and ended by saying he would think on the council.
In Tibble's workroom, with the clatter of a forge close to them, theyhad not heard a commotion in the court outside. Dennet had beenstanding on the steps cleaning her tame starling's cage, when MistressHeadley had suddenly come out on the gallery behind her, hotly scoldingher laundress, and waving her cap to show how ill-starched it was.
The bird had taken fright and flown to the tree in the court; Dennethastened in pursuit, but all the boys and children in the court rushingout after her, her blandishments had no chance, and "Goldspot" hadfluttered on to the gateway. Stephen had by this time come out, andhastened to the gate, hoping to turn the truant back from escaping intoCheapside; but all in vain, it flew out while the market was in fullcareer, and he could only call back to her that he would not lose sightof it.
Out he hurried, Dennet waiting in a sort of despair by the tree for atime that seemed to her endless, until Stephen reappeared under thegate, with a signal that all was well. She darted to meet him. "Yea,mistress, here he is, the little caitiff. He was just knocked down bythis country lad's cap--happily not hurt. I told him you would give hima tester for your bird."
"With all my heart!" and Dennet produced the coin. "Oh! Stephen, areyou sure he is safe? Thou bad Goldspot, to fly away from me! Wink withthine eye--thou saucy rogue! Wottest thou not but for Stephen theymight be blinding thy sweet blue eyes with hot needles?"
"His wing is grown since the moulting," said Stephen. "It should be cutto hinder such mischances."
"Will you do it? I will hold him," said Dennet.
"Ah! 'tis pity, the beauteous green gold-bedropped wing--that no armourof thine can equal, Stephen, not even that for the little King of Scots.But shouldst not be so silly a bird, Goldie, even though thou hastthine excuse. There! Peck not, ill birdling. Know thy friends, MasterStare."
And with such pretty nonsense the two stood together, Dennet in herwhite cap, short crimson kirtle, little stiff collar, and white bib andapron, holding her bird upside down in one hand, and with the othertrying to keep his angry beak from pecking Stephen, who, in his leatherncoat and apron, grimed, as well as his crisp black hair, with soot,stood towering above her, stooping to hold out the lustrous wing withone hand while he used his smallest pair of shears with the other toclip the pen-feathers.
"See there, Master Alderman," cried Mistress Headley, bursting on himfrom the gallery stairs. "Be that what you call fitting for yourdaughter and your prentice, a beggar lad from the heath? I ever toldyou she would bring you to shame, thus left to herself. And now you seeit."
Their heads had been near together over the starling, but at thisobjurgation they started apart, both crimson in the cheeks, and Dennetflew up to her father, bird in hand, crying, "O father, father! sufferher not. He did no wrong. He was cutting my bird's wing."
"I suffer no one to insult my child in her own house," said thealderman, so much provoked as to be determined to put an end to it allat once. "Stephen Birkenholt, come here."
Stephen came, cap in hand, red in the face, with a strange tumult in hisheart, ready to plead guilty, though he had done nothing, but imaginingat the moment that his feelings had been actions.
"Stephen," said the alderman, "thou art a true and worthy lad! Canstthou love my daughter?"
"I--I crave your pardon, sir, there was no helping it," stammeredStephen, not catching the tone of the strange interrogation, andexpecting any amount of terrible consequences for his presumption.
"Then thou wilt be a faithful spouse to her, and son to me? And Dennet,my daughter, hast thou any distaste to this youth--though he bringnought but skill and honesty!"
"O, father, father! I--I had rather have him than any other!"
"Then, Stephen Birkenholt and Dennet Headley, ye shall be man and wife,so soon as the young man's term be over, and he be a freeman--so hecontinue to be that which he seems at present. Thereto I give my word,I, Giles Headley, Alderman of the Chepe Ward, and thereof ye arewitnesses, all of you. And God's blessing on it."
A tremendous hurrah arose, led by Kit Smallbones, from every workman inthe court, and the while Stephen and Dennet, unaware of anything else,flew into one another's arms, while Goldspot, on whom the operation hadbeen fortunately completed, took refuge upon Stephen's head.
"O, Mistress Dennet, I have made you black all over!" was Stephen'sfirst word.
"Heed not, I ever loved the black!" she cried, as her eyes sparkled.
"So I have done what was to thy mind, my lass?" said Master Headley,who, without ever having thought of consulting his daughter, wasdelighted to see that her heart was with him.
"Sir, I did not know fully--but indeed I should never have been so happyas I am now.
"Sir," added Stephen, putting his knee to the ground, "it nearly wrungmy heart to think of her as belonging to another, though I never durstutter aught,"--and while Dennet embraced her father, Stephen sobbed forvery joy, and with difficulty said in broken words something about a"son's duty and devotion."
They were broken in upon by Mistress Headley, who, after standing inmute consternation, fell on them in a fury. She understood the devicenow! All had been a scheme laid amongst them for defrauding her poorfatherless child, driving him away, and taking up this beggarly brat.She had seen through the little baggage from the first, and she pitiedMaster Headley. Rage was utterly ungovernable in those days, and sheactually was flying to attack Dennet with her nails when the aldermancaught her by the wrists; and she would have been almost too much forhim, had not Kit Smallbones come to his assistance, and carried her,kicking and screaming like a naughty child, into the house. There wassmall restraint of temper in those days even in high life, and below it,there was some reason for the employment of the padlock and the duckingstool.
Floods of tears restored the dame to some sort of composure; but shedeclared she could stay no longer in a house where her son had been ill-used and deceived, and she had been insulted. The alderman thought theinsult had been the other way, but he was too glad to be rid of her onany terms to gainsay her, and at his own charge, undertook to procurehorse and escort to convey her safely to Salisbury the next morning. Headvised Stephen to keep out of her sight for the rest of the day, givingleave of absence, so that the youth, as one treading on air, set forthto carry to his brother, his aunt, and if possible, his uncle, theintelligence that he could as yet hardly believe was more than a happydream.
The Armourer's Prentices Page 22
