CHAPTER IV.
TWO SISTERS OF MERCY.
A younger generation has often posed me finely by asking, "What, SirFrancis! Did you not see _one_ bishop burned? Did you not know _one_of the martyrs? Did you _never_ come face to face with Queen Mary?" Toall which questions I have one answer, No, and I watch small eyes growlarge with astonishment. But the truth is, a man can only be at oneplace at a time. And though, in this very month of February, 1555,Prebendary Rogers--a good, kindly man, as I have heard, who had a wifeand nine children--was burned in Smithfield in London for religion,and the Bishop of Gloucester suffered in his own city, and otherinoffensive men were burned to death, and there was much talk of thesethings, and in thousands of breasts a smoldering fire was kindledwhich blazed high enough by and by--why, I was at Coton End, or on theLondon Road, at the time, and learned such things only dimly and byhearsay.
But the rill joins the river at last; and ofttimes suddenly and at abound, as it were. On this very day, while I cantered easily southwardwith my face set toward St. Albans, Providence was at work shaping aniche for me in the lives of certain people who were at the time asunconscious of my existence as I was of theirs. In a great house inthe Barbican in London there was much stealthy going and coming onthis February afternoon and evening. Behind locked doors, and in fearand trembling, mails were being packed and bags strapped, and fingersalmost too delicate for the task were busy with nails and hammers,securing this and closing that. The packers knew nothing of me, nor Iof them. Yet but for me all that packing would have been of no avail;and but for them my fate might have been very different. Still, thesound of the hammer did not reach my ears, or, doing so, was coveredby the steady tramp of the roadster; and no vision, so far as I everheard, of a dusty youth riding Londonward came between the secretworkers and their task.
I had made up my mind to sleep at St. Albans that night, and for thisreason, and for others relating to the Sheriff of Buckinghamshire, inwhich county Stony Stratford lies, I pushed on briskly. I presentlyfound time, however, to examine the packet of letters of which I hadmade spoil. On the outer wrapper I found there was no address, only anexhortation to be speedy. Off this came, therefore, without ceremony,and was left in the dirt. Inside I found two sealed epistles, eachcountersigned on the wrapper, "Stephen Winton."
"Ho! ho!" said I. "I did well to take them."
Over the signature on the first letter--it seemed to be written onparchment--were the words, "Haste! haste! haste!" This was the thickerand heavier of the two, and was addressed to Sir Maurice Berkeley, atSt. Mary Overy's, Southwark, London. I turned it over and over in myhands, and peeped into it, hesitating. Twice I muttered, "All is fairin love and war!" And at last, with curiosity fully awake, and aglance behind me to make sure that the act was unobserved, I broke theseal. The document proved to be as short and pithy as it wasstartling. It was an order commanding Sir Maurice Berkeley forthwithin the Queen's name, and by the authority of the Council, and so on,and so on, to arrest Katherine Willoughby de Eresby, Duchess ofSuffolk, and to deliver her into the custody of the Lieutenant of theTower, "These presents to be his waranty for the detention of the saidDuchess of Suffolk until her Grace's pleasure in the matter be known."
When it was too late I trembled to think what I had done. To meddlewith matters of state might be more dangerous a hundred times thanstealing horses, or even than ducking the Chancellor's messenger!Seeing at this moment a party of travelers approach, I crammed theletter into my pocket, and rode by them with a red face, and a tonguethat stuttered so feebly that I could scarcely return their greetings.When they had gone by I pulled out the warrant again, having it in mymind to tear it up without a moment's delay--to tear it into thesmallest morsels, and so get rid of a thing most dangerous. But thegreat red seal dangling at the foot of the parchment caught my eye,and I paused to think. It was so red, so large, so imposing, it seemeda pity to destroy it. It must surely be good for something. I foldedup the warrant again, and put it away in my safest pocket. Yes, itmight be good for something.
I took out the other letter. It was bound with green ribbon and sealedwith extreme care, being directed simply to Mistress Clarence--therewas no address. But over Gardiner's signature on the wrapper were thewords, "These, on your peril, very privately."
I turned it over and over, and said the same thing about love and war,and even repeated to myself my old proverb about a sheep and a lamb.But somehow I could not do it. The letter was a woman's letter; thesecret, her secret; and though my fingers itched as they hovered aboutthe seals, my cheek tingled too. So at last, with a muttered, "Whatwould Petronilla say?" I put it away unopened in the pocket where thewarrant lay. The odds were immense that Mistress Clarence would neverget it; but at least her secret should remain hers, my honor mine!
It was dark when I rode, thoroughly jaded, into St. Albans. I wassplashed with mud up to the waist and wetted by a shower, and looked,I have no doubt, from the effect of my journeying on foot andhorseback, as disreputable a fellow as might be. The consciousness toothat I was without a penny, and the fear lest, careful as I had beento let no one outsrip me, the news of the riot at Stratford might havearrived, did not tend to give me assurance. I poked my head timidlyinto the great room, hoping that I might have it to myself. To mydisgust it was full of people. Half-a-dozen travelers and as manytownsfolk were sitting round the fire, talking briskly over theirevening draught. Yet I had no choice. I was hungry, and the thing hadto be done, and I swaggered in, something of the sneak, no doubt,peeping through my bravado. I remarked, as I took my seat by the fireand set to drying myself, that I was greeted by a momentary silence,and that two or three of the company began to eye me suspiciously.
There was one man, who sat on the settle in the warmest corner of thechimney, who seemed in particular to resent my damp neighborhood. Hiscompanions treated him with so much reverence, and he snubbed them soregularly, that I wondered who he was; and presently, listening to theconversation which went on round me, I had my curiosity satisfied. Hewas no less a personage than the Bailiff of St. Albans, and his mannerbefitted such a man; for it seemed to indicate that he thought himselfheir to all the powers of the old Abbots under whose broad thumb hisfather and grandfather had groaned.
My conscience pricking me, I felt some misgiving when I saw him, afterstaring at me and whispering to two or three of his neighbors, beckonthe landlord aside. His big round face and burly figure gave him ageneral likeness to bluff King Hal and he appeared to be aware of thishimself, and to be inclined to ape the stout king's ways, which, Ihave heard my uncle say, were ever ways heavy for others' toes. For awhile, however, seeing my supper come in, I forgot him. The bare-armedgirl who brought it to me, and in whom my draggled condition seemed toprovoke feelings of a different nature, lugged up a round table to thefire. On this she laid my meal, not scrupling to set aside some of thesnug dry townsfolk. Then she set a chair for me well in the blaze, andfolding her arms in her apron stood to watch me fall to. I did so witha will, and with each mouthful of beef and draught of ale, spirit andstrength came back to me. The cits round me might sneer and shaketheir heads, and the travelers smile at my appetite. In five minutes Icared not a whit! I could give them back joke for joke, and laugh withthe best of them.
Indeed, I had clean forgotten the Bailiff, when he stalked back to hisplace. But the moment our eyes met, I guessed there was trouble afoot.The landlord came with him and stood looking at me, sending off thewench with a flea in her ear; and I felt under his eye anuncomfortable consciousness that my purse was empty. Two or three latearrivals, to whom I suppose Master Bailiff had confided hissuspicions, took their stand also in a half-circle and scanned mequeerly. Altogether it struck me suddenly that I was in a tight place,and had need of my wits.
"Ahem!" said the Bailiff abruptly, taking skillful advantage of a lullin the talk. "Where from last, young man?" He spoke in a deep chokyvoice, and, if I was not mistaken, he winked one of his small eyes inth
e direction of his friends, as though to say, "Now see me pose him!"
But I only put another morsel in my mouth. For a moment indeed thetemptation to reply "Towcester," seeing that such a journey over amiddling road was something to brag of before the Highway Law came in,almost overcame me. But in time I bethought me of Stephen Gardiner'smaxim, "Be slow to speak!" and I put another morsel in my mouth.
The Bailiff's face grew red, or rather, redder. "Come, young man, didyou hear me speak?" he said pompously. "Where from last?"
"From the road, sir," I replied, turning to him as if I had not heardhim before. "And a very wet road it was."
A man who sat next me chuckled, being apparently a stranger likemyself. But the Bailiff puffed himself into a still more strikinglikeness to King Henry, and including him in his scowl shouted at me,"Sirrah! don't bandy words with me! Which way did you come along theroad, I asked."
It was on the tip of my tongue to answer saucily, "The right way!" ButI reflected that I might be stopped; and to be stopped might mean tobe hanged at worst, and something very unpleasant at best. So Icontrolled myself, and answered--though the man's arrogance wasprovoking enough--"I have come from Stratford, and I am going toLondon. Now you know as much as I do."
"Do I?" he said, with a sneer and a wink at the landlord.
"Yes, I think so," I answered patiently.
"Well, I don't!" he retorted, in vulgar triumph. "I don't. It is myopinion that you have come from London."
I went on with my supper.
"Do you hear?" he asked pompously, sticking his arms akimbo andlooking round for sympathy. "You will have to give an account ofyourself, young man. We will have no penniless rogues and sturdyvagabonds wandering about St. Albans."
"Penniless rogues do not go a-horseback," I answered. But it waswonderful how my spirits sank again under that word "penniless." Ithit me hard.
"Wait a bit," he said, raising his finger to command attention for hisnext question. "What is your religion, young man?"
"Oh!" I replied, putting down my knife and looking open scorn at him,"you are an inquisitor, are you?" At which words of mine there was akind of stir. "You would burn me as I hear they burned Master Sandarsat Coventry last week, would you? They were talking about it down theroad."
"You will come to a bad end, young man!" he retorted viciously, hisoutstretched finger shaking as if the palsy had seized him. For thistime my taunt had gone home, and more than one of the listenersstanding on the outer edge of the group, and so beyond his ken, hadmuttered "shame." More than one face had grown dark. "You will come toa bad end!" he repeated. "If it be not here, then somewhere else! Itis my opinion that you have come from London, and that you have beenin trouble. There is a hue-and-cry out for a young fellow just yourage, and a cock of your hackle, I judge, who is wanted for heresy. ALondoner too. You do not leave here until you have given an account ofyourself, Master Jack-a-Dandy!" The party had all risen round me, andsome of the hindmost had got on benches to see me the better. Amongthese, between two bacon flitches, I caught a glimpse of theserving-maid's face as she peered at me, pale and scared, and a queerimpulse led me to nod to her--a reassuring little nod. I found myselfgrowing cool and confident, seeing myself so cornered.
"Easy! easy!" I said, "let a man finish his supper and get warmed inpeace."
"Bishop Bonner will warm you!" cried the Bailiff.
"I dare say--as they warm people in Spain!" I sneered.
"He will be Bishop Burner to you!" shrieked the Bailiff, almost besidehimself with rage at being so bearded by a lad.
"Take care!" I retorted. "Do not you speak evil of dignitaries, or youwill be getting into trouble!"
He fairly writhed under this rejoinder.
"Landlord!" he spluttered. "I shall hold you responsible! If thisperson leaves your house, and is not forthcoming when wanted, you willsuffer for it!"
The landlord scratched his head, being a good-natured fellow; but abailiff is a bailiff, especially at St. Albans. And I was muddy andtravel-stained, and quick of my tongue for one so young; which themiddle-aged never like, though the old bear it better. He hesitated.
"Do not be a fool, Master Host!" I said. "I have somethinghere----" and I touched my pocket, which happened to be near mysword-hilt--"that will make you rue it if you interfere with me!"
"Ho! ho!" cried the Bailiff, in haste and triumph. "So that is histone! We have a tavern-brawler here, have we! A young swashbuckler!His tongue will not run so fast when he finds his feet in the stocks.Master landlord, call the watch! Call the watch at once, I commandyou!"
"You will do so at your peril!" I said sternly. Then, seeing that mymanner had some effect upon all save the angry official, I gave way tothe temptation to drive the matter home and secure my safety by theonly means that seemed possible. It is an old story that one deceptionleads inevitably to another. I solemnly drew out the white staff I hadtaken from the apparitor. "Look here!" I continued, waving it. "Do yousee this, you booby? I am traveling in the Queen's name, and on herservice. By special commission, too, from the Chancellor! Is thatplain speaking enough for you? And let me tell you, Master Bailiff," Iadded, fixing my eye upon him, "that my business is private, and thatmy Lord of Winchester will not be best pleased when he hears how Ihave had to declare myself. Do you think the Queen's servants goalways in cloth of gold, you fool? The stocks indeed!"
I laughed out loudly and without effort, for there never was anythingso absurd as the change in the Bailiff's visage. His color fled, hischeeks grew pendulous, his lip hung loose. He stared at me, gaspinglike a fish out of water, and seemed unable to move toe or finger. Therest enjoyed the scene, as people will enjoy a marvelous sudden strokeof fortune. It was as good as a stage pageant to them. They could nottake their eyes from the pocket in which I had replaced my wand, andcontinued, long after I had returned to my meal, to gaze at me inrespectful silence. The crestfallen Bailiff presently slipped out, andI was left cock of the walk, and for the rest of the evening enjoyedthe fruits of victory.
They proved to be more substantial than I had expected, for, as I wason my way upstairs to bed, the landlord preceding me with a light, aman accosted me, and beckoned me aside mysteriously.
"The Bailiff is very much annoyed," he said, speaking in a muffledvoice behind his hand, while his eyes peered into mine.
"Well, what is that to me?" I replied, looking sternly at him. I wastired and sleepy after my meal. "He should not make such a fool ofhimself."
"Tut, tut, tut, tut! You misunderstood me, young sir," the mananswered, plucking my sleeve as I turned away. "He regrets theannoyance he has caused you. A mistake, he says, a pure mistake, andhe hopes you will have forgotten it by morning." Then, with a skillfulhand, which seemed not unused to the task, he slid two coins into mypalm. I looked at them, for a moment not perceiving his drift. Then Ifound they were two gold angels, and I began to understand. "Ahem!" Isaid, fingering them uneasily. "Yes. Well, well, I will look over it,I will look over it! Tell him from me," I continued, gainingconfidence as I proceeded with my new role, "that he shall hear nomore about it. He is zealous--perhaps over zealous!"
"That is it!" muttered the envoy eagerly; "that is it, my dear sir!You see perfectly how it is. He is zealous. Zealous in the Queen'sservice!"
"To be sure; and so I will report him. Tell him that so I will reporthim. And here, my good friend, take one of these for yourself," Iadded, magnificently giving him back half my fortune--young donkeythat I was. "Drink to the Queen's health; and so good-night to you."
He went away, bowing to the very ground, and, when the landlordlikewise had left me, I was very merry over this, being in no mood forweighing words. The world seemed--to be sure, the ale was humming inmy head, and I was in the landlord's best room--easy enough toconquer, provided one possessed a white staff. The fact that I had noright to mine only added--be it remembered I was young and foolish--tomy enjoyment of its power. I went to bed in all comfort with it undermy pillow, and slept soundly, untroubled by any dream
of a mischance.But when did a lie ever help a man in the end?
When I awoke, which I seemed to do on a sudden, it was still dark. Iwondered for a moment where I was, and what was the meaning of theshouting and knocking I heard. Then, discerning the faint outline ofthe window, I remembered the place in which I had gone to bed, and Isat up and listened. Some one--nay, several people--were drumming andkicking against the wooden doors of the inn-yard, and shoutingbesides, loud enough to raise the dead. In the next room to mine Icaught the grumbling voices of persons disturbed, like myself, fromsleep. And by and by a window was opened, and I heard the landlord askwhat was the matter.
"In the Queen's name!" came the loud, impatient answer, given in avoice that rose above the ring of bridles and the stamping of ironhoofs, "open! and that quickly, Master Host. The watch are here, andwe must search."
I waited to hear no more. I was out of bed, and huddling on myclothes, and thrusting my feet into my boots, like one possessed. Myheart was beating as fast as if I had been running in a race, and myhands were shaking with the shock of the alarm. The impatient voicewithout was Master Pritchard's, and it rang with all the vengefulpassion which I should have expected that gentleman, duped, ducked,and robbed, to be feeling. There would be little mercy to be had athis hands. Moreover, my ears, grown as keen for the moment as thehunted hare's, distinguished the tramping of at least half-a-dozenhorses, so that it was clear that he had come with a force at hisback. Resistance would be useless. My sole chance lay in flight--ifflight should still be possible.
Even in my haste I did not forsake the talisman which had served me sowell, but stayed an instant to thrust it into my pocket. The Cluddeshave, I fancy, a knack of keeping cool in emergencies, getting,indeed, the cooler the greater the stress.
By this time the inn was thoroughly aroused. Doors were opening andshutting on all sides of me, and questions were being shouted indifferent tones from room to room. In the midst of the hubbub I heardthe landlord come out muttering, and go downstairs to open the door.Instantly I unlatched mine, slipped through it stealthily, sneaked astep or two down the passage, and then came plump in the dark againstsome one who was moving as softly as myself. The surprise wascomplete, and I should have cried out at the unexpected collision, hadnot the unknown laid a cold hand on my mouth, and gently pushed meback into my room.
Here there was now a faint glimmer of dawn, and by this I saw that mycompanion was the serving-maid. "Hist!" she said, speaking under herbreath, "Is it you they want?"
I nodded.
"I thought so," she muttered. "Then you must get out through yourwindow. You cannot pass them. They are a dozen or more, and armed.Quick! knot this about the bars. It is no great depth to the bottom,and the ground is soft from the rain."
She tore, as she spoke, the coverlet from the bed, and, twisting itinto a kind of rope, helped me to secure one corner of it about thewindow-bar. "When you are down," she whispered, "keep along the wallto the right until you come to a haystack. Turn to the left there--youwill have to ford the water--and you will soon be clear of the town.Look about you then, and you will see a horse-track, which leads toElstree, running in a line with the London Road, but a mile from itand through woods. At Elstree any path to the left will take you toBarnet, and not two miles lost."
"Heaven bless you!" I said, turning from the gloom, the dark sky, anddriving scud without to peer gratefully at her. "Heaven bless you fora good woman!"
"And God keep you for a bonny boy," she whispered.
I kissed her, forcing into her hands--a thing the remembrance of whichis very pleasant to me to this day--my last piece of gold.
A moment more, and I stood unhurt, but almost up to my knees in mud,in an alley bounded on both sides, as far as I could see, by blindwalls. Stopping only to indicate by a low whistle that I was safe, Iturned and sped away as fast as I could run in the direction which shehad pointed out. There was no one abroad, and in a shorter time than Ihad expected I found myself outside the town, traveling over a kind ofmoorland tract bounded in the distance by woods.
Here I picked up the horse-track easily enough, and without stopping,save for a short breathing space, hurried along it, to gain theshelter of the trees. So far so good! I had reason to be thankful. Butmy case was still an indifferent one. More than once in getting out ofthe town I had slipped and fallen. I was wet through, and plasteredwith dirt owing to these mishaps; and my clothes were in a woefulplight. For a time excitement kept me up, however, and I made goodway, warmed by the thought that I had again baffled the great Bishop.It was only when the day had come, and grown on to noon, and I saw nosign of any pursuers, that thought got the upper hand. Then I began tocompare, with some bitterness of feeling, my present condition--wet,dirty, and homeless--with that which I had enjoyed only a week before;and it needed all my courage to support me. Skulking, half famished,between Barnet and Tottenham, often compelled to crouch in ditches orbehind walls while travelers went by, and liable each instant to haveto leave the highway and take to my heels, I had leisure to feel; andI did feel, more keenly, I think, that afternoon than at any latertime, the bitterness of fortune. I cursed Stephen Gardiner a dozentimes, and dared not let my thoughts wander to my father. I had saidthat I would build my house afresh. Well, truly I was building it fromthe foundation.
It added very much to my misery that it rained all day a cold,half-frozen rain. The whole afternoon I spent in hiding, shivering andshaking in a hole under a ledge near Tottenham; being afraid to gointo London before nightfall, lest I should be waited for at the gateand be captured. Chilled and bedraggled as I was, and weak throughwant of food which I dared not go out to beg, the terrors of capturegot hold of my mind and presented to me one by one every horrible formof humiliation, the stocks, the pillory, the cart-tail; so that evenMaster Pritchard, could he have seen me and known my mind, might havepitied me; so that I loathe to this day the hours I spent in that foulhiding-place. Between a man's best and worse, there is little but aplatter of food.
The way this was put an end to, I well remember. An old woman cameinto the field where I lay hid, to drive home a cow. I had had my eyeson this cow for at least an hour, having made up my mind to milk itfor my own benefit as soon as the dusk fell. In my disappointment atseeing it driven off, and also out of a desire to learn whether theold dame might not be going to milk it in a corner of the pasture, inwhich case I might still get an after taste, I crawled so far out ofmy hole that, turning suddenly, she caught sight of me. I expected tosee her hurry off, but she did not. She took a long look, and thencame back toward me, making, however, as it seemed to me, as if shedid not see me. When she had come within a few feet of me, she lookeddown abruptly, and our eyes met. What she saw in mine I can onlyguess. In hers I read a divine pity. "Oh, poor lad!" she murmured;"oh, you poor, poor lad!" and there were tears in her voice.
I was so weak--it was almost twenty-four hours since I had tastedfood, and I had come twenty-four miles in the time--that at that Ibroke down, and cried like a child.
I learned later that the old woman took me for just the same personfor whom the Bailiff at St. Albans had mistaken me, a young apprenticenamed Hunter, who had got into trouble about religion, and was at thistime hiding up and down the country; Bishop Bonner having clapped hisfather into jail until the son should come to hand. But her kind heartknew no distinction of creeds. She took me to her cottage as soon asnight fell, and warmed, and dried, and fed me. She did not dare tokeep me under her roof for longer than an hour or two, neither would Ihave stayed to endanger her. But she sent me out a new man, with acrust, moreover, in my pocket. A hundred times between Tottenham andAldersgate I said "God bless her!" And I say so now.
So twice in one day, and that the gloomiest day of my life, I wassuccored by a woman. I have never forgotten it. I have tried to keepit always in mind; remembering too a saying of my uncle's, that "thereis nothing on earth so merciful as a good woman, or so pitiless as abad one!"
The Story of Francis Cludde Page 5
