Unknown to History-A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  "I fear me Cis is over young to settle any one's mind," said Susan.

  "She is seventeen if she is a day," said my Lady, "and I was a wedded wife ere I saw my teens. Moreover, I will say for thee, Susan, that thou hast bred the girl as becomes one trained in my household, and unless she have been spoiled by resort to the Scottish woman, she is like to make the lad a moderately good wife, having seen nought of the unthrifty modes of the fine court dames, who queen it with standing ruffs a foot high, and coloured with turmeric, so please you, but who know no more how to bake a marchpane, or roll puff paste, than yonder messan dog!"

  "She is a good girl," said Susan, "but-"

  "What has the foolish wife to object now?" said the Countess. "I tell you I marked them both last eve, and though I seldom turn my mind to such follies, I saw the plain tokens of love in every look and gesture of the young springald. Nay, 'twas his countenance that put it into my mind, for I am even too good-natured-over good- natured, Susan Talbot. How now," at some sound below, springing to the little window and flinging it back, "you lazy idle wenches-what are you doing there? Is my work to stand still while you are toying with yon vile whelp? He is tangling the yarn, don't you see, thou purblind Jane Dacre, with no eyes but for ogling. There! there! Round the leg of the chair, don't you see!" and down flew a shoe, which made the poor dog howl, and his mistress catch him up. "Put him down! put him down this instant! Thomas! Davy! Here, hang him up, I say," cried this over good-natured lady, interspersing her commands with a volley of sixteenth century Billingsgate, and ending by declaring that nothing fared well without her, and hurrying off to pounce down on the luckless damsels who had let their dog play with the embroidery yarn destined to emblazon the tapestry of Chatsworth with the achievements of Juno. The good nature was so far veritable that when she found little harm done, and had vented her wrath in strong language and boxes on the ear, she would forget her sentence upon the poor little greyhound, which Mrs. Jane Dacre had hastily conveyed out of sight during her transit downstairs. Susan was thus, to her great relief, released for the present, for guests came in before my Lady had fully completed her objurgations on her ladies, the hour of noon was nigh at hand, sounds in the court betokened the return of the huntsmen, and Susan effected her escape to her own sober old palfrey-glad that she would at least be able to take counsel with her husband on this most inconvenient proposition.

  He came out to meet her at the court door, having just dismounted, and she knew by his face that she had not to give him the first intelligence of the difficulty in which they stood.

  My Lord had himself spoken to him, like my Lady expecting him to be enchanted at the prospect of so good a match for his slenderly- portioned daughter, for Dethick was a fair estate, and the Babington family, though not ennobled, fully equal to a younger branch of the Talbots. However, Richard had had a less uncomfortable task than his wife, since the Earl was many degrees more reasonable than the Countess. He had shown himself somewhat offended at not meeting more alacrity in the acceptance of his proposal, when Richard had objected on account of the young gentleman's Popish proclivities; but boldly declared that he was quite certain that the stripling had been entirely cured.

  This point of the narrative had just been reached when it was interrupted by a scream, and Cicely came flying into the hall, crying, "O father, father, stop them! Humfrey and Mr. Babington! They are killing one another."

  "Where?" exclaimed Richard, catching up his sword.

  "In the Pleasance, father! Oh, stop them! They will slay one another! They had their swords!" and as the father was already gone, she threw herself into the mother's arms, hid her face and sobbed with fright as scarce became a princess for whom swords were for the first time crossed. "Fear not! Father will stop them," said the mother, with confidence she could only keep up outwardly by the inward cry, "God protect my boy. Father will come ere they can hurt one another."

  "But how came it about?" she added, as with an arm round the trembling girl, she moved anxiously forward to know the issue.

  "Oh! I know not. 'Twas Humfrey fell on him. Hark!"

  "'Tis father's voice," said Susan. "Thank God! I know by the sound no harm is done! But how was it, child?"

  Cis told with more coherence now, but the tears in her eyes and colour deepening: "I was taking in Humfrey's kerchiefs from the bleaching on the grass, when Master Babington-he had brought me a plume of pheasant's feathers from the hunting, and he began. O mother, is it sooth? He said my Lord had sent him."

  "That is true, my child, but you know we have no choice but to refuse thee."

  "Ay, mother, and Antony knows."

  "Not thy true birth, child?"

  "Not that, but the other story. So he began to say that if I were favourable-Mother, do men always do like that?" Hiding her face against the trusty breast, "And when I drew back, and said I could not and would not hearken to such folly-"

  "That was well, dear child."

  "He would have it that I should have to hear him, and he went down on his knee, and snatched at my hand. And therewith came a great howl of rage like an angry lion, and Humfrey bounded right over the sweetbrier fence, and cried out, 'Off, fellow! No Papist traitor knave shall meddle with her.' And then Antony gave him back the lie for calling him traitor, and they drew their swords, and I ran away to call father, but oh! mother, I heard them clash!" and she shuddered again.

  "See," said Susan, as they had reached the corner of a thick screen of yew-trees, "all is safe. There they stand, and father between them speaking to them. No, we will not go nearer, since we know that it is well with them. Men deal with each other better out of women's earshot. Ah, see, there they are giving one another their hands. All is over now."

  "Humfrey stands tall, grave, and stiff! He is only doing it because father bids him," said Cicely. "Antony is much more willing."

  "Poor Humfrey! he knows better than Antony how vain any hope must be of my silly little princess," said Susan, with a sigh for her boy. "Come in, child, and set these locks in order. The hour of noon hath long been over, and father hath not yet dined."

  So they flitted out of sight as Richard and his son turned from the place of encounter, the former saying, "Son Humfrey, I had deemed thee a wiser man."

  "Sir, how could a man brook seeing that fellow on his knee to her? Is it not enough to be debarred from my sweet princess myself, but I must see her beset by a Papist and traitor, fostered and encouraged too?"

  "And thou couldst not rest secure in the utter impossibility of her being given to him? He is as much out of reach of her as thou art."

  "He has secured my Lord and my Lady on his side!" growled Humfrey.

  "My Lord is not an Amurath, nor my Lady either," said Richard, shortly. "As long as I pass for her father I have power to dispose of her, and I am not going to give another woman's daughter away without her consent."

  "Yet the fellow may have her ear," said Humfrey. "I know him to be popishly inclined, and there is a web of those Romish priests all over the island, whereof this Queen holds the strands in her fingers, captive though she be. I should not wonder if she had devised this fellow's suit."

  "This is the very madness of jealousy, Humfrey," said his father. "The whole matter was, as thy mother and thy Lord have both told me, simply a device of my Lady Countess's own brain."

  "Babington took to it wondrous naturally," muttered Humfrey.

  "That may be; but as for the lady at Wingfield, her talk to our poor maid hath been all of archdukes and dukes. She is far too haughty to think for a moment of giving her daughter to a mere Derbyshire esquire, not even of noble blood. You may trust her for that."

  This pacified Humfrey for a little while, especially as the bell was clanging for the meal which had been unusually deferred, and he had to hurry away to remove certain marks, which were happily the result of the sweetbrier weapons instead of that of Babington.

  That a little blood had been shed was shown by the state of his sword point, but Antony had d
isclaimed being hurt when the master of the house came up, and in the heat of the rebuke the father and son had hardly noticed that he had thrown a kerchief round his left hand ere he moved away.

  Before dinner was over, word was brought in from the door that Master Will Cavendish wanted to speak to Master Humfrey. The ladies' hearts were in their mouths, as it were, lest it should be to deliver a cartel, and they looked to the father to interfere, but he sat still, contenting himself with saying, as his son craved license to quit the board, "Use discretion as well as honour."

  They were glad that the next minute Humfrey came back to call his father to the door, where Will Cavendish sat on horseback. He had come by desire of Babington, who had fully intended that the encounter should be kept secret, but some servant must have been aware of it either from the garden or the park, and the Countess had got wind of it. She had summoned Babington to her presence, before the castle barber had finished dealing with the cut in his hand, and the messenger reported that "my Lady was in one of her raging fits," and talked of throwing young Humfrey into a dungeon, if not having him hung for his insolence.

  Babington, who had talked to his friends of a slip with his hunting- knife while disembowelling a deer, was forced to tell the fact in haste to Cavendish, the nearest at hand, begging him to hurry down and advise Humfrey to set forth at once if he did not wish his journey to be unpleasantly delayed.

  "My Lord is unwilling to cross my mother at the present," said young Cavendish with half a smile; "and though it be not likely that much harm should come of the matter, yet if she laid hands on Humfrey at the present moment, there might be hindrance and vexation, so it may be well for him to set forth, in case Tony be unable to persuade my Lady that it is nought."

  Will Cavendish had been a friendly comrade of both Humfrey and Antony in their boyish days, and his warning was fully to be trusted.

  "I know not why I should creep off as though I had done aught that was evil," said Humfrey, drawing himself up.

  "Well," said Will, "my Lord is always wroth at brawling with swords amongst us, and he might-my mother egging him on-lay you by the heels in the strong room for a week or so. Nay, for my part, methinks 'twas a strange requital of poor Babington's suit to your sister! Had she been your love instead of your sister there might have been plainer excuse, but sure you wot not of aught against Tony to warrant such heat."

  "He was importuning her when she would have none of him," said Humfrey, feeling the perplexity he had drawn on himself.

  "Will says well," added the father, feeling that it by all means behoved them all to avert inquiry into the cause of Humfrey's passion, since neither Cicely's birth nor Antony's perilous inclinations could be pleaded. "To be detained a week or two might hinder thy voyage. So we will speed thee on thy way instantly."

  "Tell me not where he halts for the night," said Cavendish significantly. "Fare thee well, Humfrey. I would return ere I am missed. I trust thou wilt have made the Spaniard's ships smoke, and weighted thy pouch with his dollars, before we see thee again."

  "Fare thee well, Will, and thank thee kindly," returned Humfrey, as they wrung each other's hands. "And tell Antony that I thank him heartily for his thought, and owe him a good turn."

  "That is well, my son," said Richard, as Cavendish rode out of the court. "Babington is both hot and weak-headed, and I fear me is in the toils of the Scottish lady; but he would never do aught that he held as disloyal by a comrade. I wish I could say the same of him anent the Queen."

  "And you will guard her from him, sir?" earnestly said Humfrey.

  "As I would from-I would have said Frenchman or Spaniard, but, poor maid, that may only be her hap, if her mother should come to her throne again;" and as Humfrey shrugged his shoulders at the improbability, "But we must see thee off, my boy. Poor mother! this hurries the parting for her. So best, mayhap."

  It was hastily arranged that Humfrey should ride off at once, and try to overtake a squire who had been at the festival, and had invited him to turn a little out of his road and spend a day or two at his house when leaving home. Humfrey had then declined, but hospitality in those days was elastic, and he had no doubt of a welcome. His father would bring Diccon and his baggage to join him there the next day.

  Thus there were only a very few minutes for adieux, and, as Richard had felt, this was best for all, even the anxious mother. Cicely ran about with the rest in the stress of preparation, until Humfrey, hurrying upstairs, met her coming down with a packet of his lace cuffs in her hands.

  He caught the hand on the balusters, and cried, "My princess, my princess, and art thou doing this for me?"

  "Thou hast learnt fine compliments, Humfrey," said Cis, trying to do her part with quivering lips.

  "Ah, Cis! thou knowest but too well what hath taught me no fine words but plain truth. Fear me not, I know what is due to thee. Cis, we never used to believe the tales and ballads that told of knights worshipping princesses beyond their reach, without a hope of more than a look-not even daring to wish for more; Cis, it is very truth. Be thou where thou wilt, with whom thou wilt, there will be one ready to serve thee to the uttermost, and never ask aught-aught but such remembrance as may befit the brother of thy childhood-"

  "Mistress Cis," screamed one of the maids," madam is waiting for those cuffs."

  Cis ran down, but the squeeze and kiss on the hand remained, as it were, imprinted on it, far more than the last kiss of all, which he gave, as both knew and felt, to support his character as a brother before the assembled household.

  CHAPTER XX. WINGFIELD MANOR.

  The drawing of swords was not regarded as a heinous offence in Elizabethan days. It was not likely, under ordinary circumstances, to result in murder, and was looked on much as boxing is, or was recently, in public schools, as an evidence of high spirit, and a means of working off ill-blood.

  Lady Shrewsbury was, however, much incensed at such a presumptuous reception of the suitor whom she had backed with her would-be despotic influence; and in spite of Babington's making extremely light of it, and declaring that he had himself been too forward in his suit, and the young lady's apparent fright had made her brother interfere over hastily for her protection, four yeomen were despatched by her Ladyship with orders instantly to bring back Master Humfrey Talbot to answer for himself.

  They were met by Mr. Talbot with the sober reply that Master Humfrey was already set forth on his journey. The men, having no orders, never thought of pursuing him, and after a short interval Richard thought it expedient to proceed to the Manor-house to explain matters.

  The Countess swooped upon him in one of her ungovernable furies-one of those of which even Gilbert Talbot avoided writing the particulars to his father-abusing his whole household in general, and his son in particular, in the most outrageous manner, for thus receiving the favour she had done to their beggarly, ill-favoured, ill-nurtured daughter. Richard stood still and grave, his hat in his hand, as unmoved and tranquil as if he had been breasting a stiff breeze on the deck of his ship, with good sea-room and confidence in all his tackle, never even attempting to open his lips, but looking at the Countess with a steady gaze which somehow disconcerted her, for she demanded wherefore he stared at her like one of his clumsy hinds.

  "Because her Ladyship does not know what she is saying," he replied.

  "Darest thou! Thou traitor, thou viper, thou unhanged rascal, thou mire under my feet, thou blot on the house! Darest thou beard me- me?" screamed my Lady. "Darest thou-I say-"

  If the sailor had looked one whit less calm and resolute, my Lady would have had her clenched fist on his ear, or her talons in his beard, but he was like a rock against which the billows expended themselves, and after more of the tempest than need stain these pages, she deigned to demand what he meant or had to say for his son.

  "Solely this, madam, that my son had never even heard of Babington's suit, far less that he had your Ladyship's good-will. He found him kneeling to Cicely in the garden, and the girl, distressed and
dismayed at his importunity. There were hot words and drawn blades. That was the whole. I parted them and saw them join hands."

  "So saith Master Babington. He is willing to overlook the insult, so will I and my Lord, if you will atone for it by instantly consenting to this espousal."

  "That, madam, I cannot do."

  She let him say no more, and the storm had begun to rage again, when Babington took advantage of an interval to take breath, and said, "I thank you, madam, and pray you peace. If a little space be vouchsafed me, I trust to show this worthy gentleman cause wherefore he should no longer withhold his fair damsel from me."

  "Indeed!" said the Countess. "Art thou so confident? I marvel what better backer thou wouldst have than me! So conceited of themselves are young men now-a-days, they think, forsooth, their own merits and graces should go farther in mating them than the word and will of their betters. There, you may go! I wash my hands of the matter. One is as ingrate as the other."

  Both gentlemen accepted this amiable dismissal, each hoping that the Countess might indeed have washed her hands of their affairs. On his departure Richard was summoned into the closet of the Earl, who had carefully kept out of the way during the uproar, only trusting not to be appealed to. "My good cousin," he asked, "what means this broil between the lads? Hath Babington spoken sooth?"

  "He hath spoken well and more generously than, mayhap, I thought he would have done," said Richard.

  "Ay; you have judged the poor youth somewhat hardly, as if the folly of pagedom never were outgrown," said the Earl. "I put him under governorship such as to drive out of his silly pate all the wiles that he was fed upon here. You will see him prove himself an honest Protestant and good subject yet, and be glad enough to give him your daughter. So he was too hot a lover for Master Humfrey's notions, eh?" said my Lord, laughing a little. "The varlet! He was over prompt to protect his sister, yet 'twas a fault on the right side, and I am sorry there was such a noise about it that he should have gone without leave-takings."