St. George and St. Michael

by George MacDonald

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  THE WITCH'S COTTAGE.

  Richard was met on the threshold by mistress Rees, in the sameold-fashioned dress, all but the hat, which I have already described. Onher head she wore a widow's cap, with large crown, thick frill, andblack ribbon encircling it between them. She welcomed him with thekindness almost of an old nurse, and led the way to the one chair in theroom--beside the hearth, where a fire of peat was smouldering ratherthan burning beneath the griddle, on which she was cooking oat-cake. Thecottage was clean and tidy. From the smoky rafters hung many bunches ofdried herbs, which she used partly for medicines, partly for charms.

  To herself, the line dividing these uses was not very clearlydiscernible.

  'I am in trouble, mistress Rees,' said Richard, as he seated himself.

  'Most men do be in trouble most times, master Heywood,' returned the oldwoman. 'Dost find thou hast taken the wrong part, eh?--There be no needto tell what aileth thee. 'Tis a bit easier to cast off a maiden than toforget her--eh?'

  'No, mistress Rees. I came not to trouble thee concerning what is pastand gone,' said Richard with a sigh. 'It is a taste of thy knowledge Iwant rather than of thy skill.'

  'What skill I have is honest,' said the old woman.

  'Far be it from thee to say otherwise, mother Rees. But I need it notnow. Tell me, hast thou not been once and again within the great gatesof Raglan castle?'

  'Yes, my son--oftener than I can tell thee,' answered the old woman. 'Itis but a se'night agone that I sat a talking with my son Thomas Rees inthe chimney corner of Raglan kitchen, after the supper was served andthe cook at rest. It was there my lad was turnspit once upon a time, foras great a man as he is now with my lord and all the household. Thosewere hard times after my good man left me, master Heywood. But the creamwill to the top, and there is my son now--who but he in kitchen andhall? Well, of all places in the mortal world, that Raglan passes!'

  'They tell strange things of the stables there, mistress Rees: know youaught of them?'

  'Strange things, master? They tell nought but good of the stables thattell the truth. As to the armoury, now--well it is not for such asmother Rees to tell tales out of school.'

  'What I heard, and wanted to ask thee about, mother, was that they areunder ground. Thinkest thou horses can fare well under ground? Thouknowest a horse as well as a dog, mother.'

  Ere she replied, the old woman took her cake from the griddle, and laidit on a wooden platter, then caught up a three-legged stool, set it downby Richard, seated herself at his knee, and assumed the look of mysterywherewith she was in the habit of garnishing every bit of knowledge,real or fancied, which it pleased her to communicate.

  'Hear me, and hold thy peace, master Richard Heywood,' she said. 'Asgood horses as ever stamped in Redware stables go down into Raglanvaults; but yet they eat their oats and their barley, and when they lifttheir heads they look out to the ends of the world. Whether it be by theskill of the mason or of such as the hidden art of my lord Herbert knowsbest how to compel, let them say that list to make foes where it weresafer to have friends. But this I am free to tell thee--that in thepitched court, betwixt the antechamber to my lord's parlour that hathits windows to the moat, and the great bay window of the hall that looksinto that court, there goeth a descent, as it seemeth of stairs only;but to him that knoweth how to pull a certain tricker, as of anharquebus or musquetoon, the whole thing turneth around, and straightwayfrom a stair passeth into an easy matter of a sloping way by the whichhorses go up and down. And Thomas he telleth me also that at the furtherend of the vaults to which it leads, the which vaults pass under themarquis's oak parlour, and under all the breadth of the fountain court,as they do call the other court of the castle, thou wilt come to a greatiron door in the foundations of one of the towers, in which my lord hathcontrived stabling for a hundred and more horses, and that, mark mywords, my son, not in any vault or underground dungeon, but in theuppermost chamber of all.'

  'And how do they get up there, mother?' asked Richard, who listened withall his ears.

  'Why, they go round and round, and ever the rounder the higher, as a flymight crawl up a corkscrew. And there is a stair also in the same screw,as it were, my Thomas do tell me, by which the people of the house do goup and down, and know nothing of the way for the horses within, neitherof the stalls at the top of the tower, where they stand and see thecountry. Yet do they often marvel at the sounds of their hoofs, andtheir harness, and their cries, and their chumping of their corn. Andthat is how Raglan can send forth so many horseman for the use of theking. But alack, master Heywood! is it for a wise woman like myself toforget that thou art of the other part, and that these are secrets ofstate which scarce another in the castle but my son Thomas knoweth aughtconcerning! What will become of me that I have told them to a Heywood,being, as is well known, myself no more of a royalist than another?'

  And she regarded him a little anxiously.

  'What should it signify, mother,'' said Richard, 'so long as neither younor I believe a word of it? Horses go up a tower to bed forsooth! Yetfor the matter of that, I will engage to ride my mare up any corkscrewwide enough to turn her forelock and tail in--ay, and down again too,which is another business with most horses. But come now, mother Rees,confess this all a fable of thine own contriving to make a mock of afarm-bred lad like me.'

  'In good sooth, master Heywood,' answered the old woman, 'I tell thetale as 'twas told to me. I avouch it not for certain, knowing that myson Thomas hath a seething brain and loveth a joke passing well, norheedeth greatly upon whom he putteth it, whether his master or hismother; but for the stair by the great hall window, that stair have Iseen with mine own eyes, though for the horses to come and go thereby,that truly have I not seen. And for the rest I only say it may well be,for there is nothing of it all which the wise man, my lord Herbert,could not with a word--and that a light one for him to speak, thoughtruly another might be torn to pieces in saying it.'

  'I would I might see the place!' murmured Richard.

  'An' it were not thou art such a--! But it boots not talking, masterHeywood. Thou art too well known for a puritan--roundhead they callthee; and thou hast given them and theirs too many hard knocks, my son,to look they should be willing to let thee gaze on the wonders of theirgreat house. Else, being that I am a friend to thee and thine, I wouldgladly--. But, as I say, it boots nothing--although I have a son, whobeing more of the king's part than I am--.'

  'Hast thou not then art enough, mother, to set me within Raglan wallsfor an hour or two after midnight? I ask no more,' said Richard, who,although he was but leading the way to quite another proposal, nordesired aid of art black or white, yet could not help a little tremor atmaking the bare suggestion of the unhallowed idea.

  'An' I had, I dared not use it,' answered the old woman; 'for is not mylord Herbert there? Were it not for him--well--. But I dare not, as Isay, for his art is stronger than mine, and from his knowledge I couldhide nothing. And I dare not for thy sake either, my young master. Onceinside those walls of stone, those gates of oak, and those portcullisesof iron, and thou comes not out alive again, I warrant thee.'

  'I should like to try once, though,' said Richard. 'Couldst thou notdisguise me, mother Rees, and send me with a message to thy son?'

  'I tell thee, young master, I dare not,' answered the old woman, withutmost solemnity. 'And if I did, thy speech would presently bewraythee.'

  'I would then I knew that part of the wall a man might scramble over inthe dark,' said Richard.

  'Thinks thou my lord marquis hath been fortifying his castle for twoyears that a young Heywood, even if he be one of the godly, and havelong legs to boot, should make a vaulting horse of it? I know but oneknows the way over Raglan walls, and thou wilt hardly persuade him totell thee,' said mother Rees, with a grim chuckle.

  As she spoke she rose, and went towards her sleeping chamber. Then firstRichard became aware that for some time he had been hearing a scratchingand whining. She opened the door, and o
ut ran a wretched-looking dog,huge and gaunt, with the red marks of recent wounds all over his body,and his neck swathed in a discoloured bandage. He went straight toRichard, and began fawning upon him and licking his hands. Miserable andmost disreputable as he looked, he recognised in him Dorothy's mastiff.

  'My poor Marquis!' he said, 'what evil hath then befallen thee? Whatwould thy mistress say to see thee thus?'

  Marquis whined and wagged his tail as if he understood every word hesaid, and Richard was stung to the heart at the sight of his apparentlyforlorn condition.

  'Hath thy mistress then forsaken thee too, Marquis?' he said, and fromfellow-feeling could have taken the dog in his arms.

  'I think not so,' said mistress Rees. 'He hath been with her in thecastle ever since she went there.'

  'Poor fellow, how thou art torn!' said Richard. 'What animal of thineown size could have brought thee into such a plight? Or can it be thatthou hast found a bigger? But that thou hast beaten him I am wellassured.'

  Marquis wagged an affirmative.

  'Fangs of biggest dog in Gwent never tore him like that, master Heywood.Heark'ee now. He cannot tell his tale, so I must tell thee all I know ofthe matter. I was over to Raglan village three nights agone, to get me abottle of strong waters from mine host of the White Horse, for thedistilling of certain of my herbs good for inward disorders, when hetold me that about an hour before there had come from the way of thecastle all of a sudden the most terrible noise that ever human ears werepierced withal, as if every devil in hell of dog or cat kind had brokenloose, and fierce battle was waging between them in the Yellow Tower. Isaid little, but had my own fears for my lord Herbert, and came home sadand slow and went to bed. Now what should wake me the next morning, justas daylight broke the neck of the darkness, but a pitiful whining andobstinate scratching at my door! And who should it be but that samelovely little lapdog of my young mistress now standing by thy knee! Buthad thou seen him then, master Richard! It was the devil's hackles hehad been through! Such a torn dishclout of a dog thou never did see! Iunderstood it all in a moment. He had made one in the fight, and whetherhe had had the better or the worse of it, like a wise dog as he alwayswas, he knew where to find what would serve his turn, and so when thehouse was quiet, off he came to old mother Rees to be plaistered andphysicked. But what perplexes my old brain is, how, at that hour of thenight, for to reach my door when he did, and him hardly able to standwhen I let him in, it must have been dead night when he left--it doperplex me, I say, to think how at that time of the night he got out ofthat prison, watched as it is both night and day by them that sleepnot.'

  'He couldn't have come over the wall?' suggested Richard.

  'Had thou seen him--thou would not make that the question.'

  'Then he must have come through or under it; there are but three ways,'said Richard to himself. 'He's a big dog,' he added aloud, regarding himthoughtfully as he patted his sullen affectionate head. 'He's a bigdog,' he repeated.

  'I think a'most he be the biggest dog _I_ ever saw,' assented mistressRees.

  'I would I were less about the shoulders,' said Richard.

  'Who ever heard a man worth his mess of pottage wish him such a wish asthat, master Heywood! What would mistress Dorothy say to hear thee? Iwarrant me she findeth no fault with the breadth of thy shoulders.'

  'I am less in the compass than I was before the last fight,' he went on,without heeding his hostess, and as if he talked to the dog, who stoodwith his chin on his knee, looking up in his face. 'Where thou, Marquis,canst walk, I doubt not to creep; but if thou must creep, what then isleft for me? Yet how couldst thou creep with such wounds in thy throatand belly, my poor Marquis?'

  The dog whined, and moved all his feet, one after the other, but withouttaking his chin off Richard's knee.

  'Hast seen thy mistress, little Dick, Marquis?' asked Richard.

  Again the dog whined, moved his feet, and turned his head towards thedoor. But whether it was that he understood the question, or only thathe recognised the name of his friend, who could tell?

  'Will thou take me to Dick, Marquis?'

  The dog turned and walked to the door, then stood and looked back, as ifwaiting for Richard to open it and follow him.

  'No, Marquis, we must not go before night,' said Richard.

  The dog returned slowly to his knee, and again laid his chin upon it.

  'What will the dog do next, thinkest thou, mother--when he finds himselfwell again, I mean? Will he run from thee?' said Richard.

  'He would be like neither dog nor man I ever knew, did he not,' returnedthe old woman. 'He will for sure go back where he got his hurts--torevenge them if he may, for that is the custom also with both dogs andmen.'

  'Couldst thou make sure of him that he run not away till I come again atnight, mother?'

  'Certain I can, my son. I will shut him up whence he will not break solong as he hears me nigh him.'

  'Do so then an' thou lovest me, mother Rees, and I will be here with thefirst of the darkness.'

  'An' I love thee, master Richard? Nay, but I do love thy good face andthy true words, be thou puritan or roundhead, or fanatic, or what evilname soever the wicked fashion of the times granteth to men to callthee.'

  'Hark in thine ear then, mother: I will call no names; but they ofRaglan have, as I truly believe, stolen from me my Lady.'

  'Nay, nay, master Richard,' interrupted mistress Rees; 'did I not tellthee with my own mouth that she went of her own free will, and in thecompany of the reverend sir Matthew Herbert?'

  'Alas! thou goest not with me, mother Rees. I meant not mistressDorothy. She is lost to me indeed; but so also is my poor mare, whichwas stolen last night from Redware stables as the watchers slept.'

  'Alack-a-day!' cried goody Rees, holding up her hands in sore troublefor her friend. 'But what then dreams thou of doing? Not surely, beforeall the saints in heaven, will thou adventure thy body within Raglanwalls? But I speak like a fool. Thou canst not.'

  'This good dog,' said Richard, stroking Marquis, 'must, as thou thyselfplainly seest, have found some way of leaving Raglan without theknowledge or will of its warders. Where he gat him forth, will he notget him in again? And where dog can go, man may at least endeavour tofollow.--Mayhap he hath for himself scratched a way, as many dogs will.'

  'But, for the love of God, master Heywood, what would thou do insidethat stone cage? Thy mare, be she, as thou hast often vaunted her to me,the first for courage and wisdom and strength and fleetness of all marescreated--be her fore feet like a man's hands and her heart like awoman's heart, as thou sayest, yet cannot she overleap Raglan walls; andthinks thou they will raise portcullis and open gate and drop drawbridgeto let thee and her ride forth in peace? It were a fool's errand, myyoung master, and nowise befitting thy young wisdom.'

  'What I shall do, when I am length within the walls, I cannot tell thee,mother. Nor have I ever yet known much good in forecasting. To have tothink, when the hour is come, of what thou didst before resolve, insteadof setting thyself to understand what is around thee, and perchance thewhole matter different from what thou had imagined, is to stand likeLazarus bound hand and foot in thine own graveclothes. It will be givenme to meet what comes; or if not, who will bar me from meeting whatfollows?'

  'Master Heywood,' cried goody Rees, drawing herself with rebuke, 'for aman that is born of a woman to talk so wisely and so foolishly both in abreath!--But,' she added, with a change of tone, 'I know better than barthe path to a Heywood. An' he will, he will. And thou hast been vilelyused, my young master. I will do what I can to help thee to thineown--and no more--no more than thine own. Hark in thine ear now. Butfirst swear to me by the holy cross, puritan as thou art, that thou wiltmake no other use of what I tell thee but to free thy stolen mare. Iknow thou may be trusted even with the secret that would slay thineenemy. But I must have thy oath notwithstanding thereto.'

  'I will not swear by the cross, which was never holy, for thereby wasthe Holy slain. I will not swear at all, mot
her Rees. I will pledge theethe word of a man who fears God, that I will in no way dishonourablemake use of that which thou tellest me. An' that suffice not, I will gowithout thy help, trusting in God, who never made that mare to carry theenemy of the truth into the battle.'

  'But what an' thou should take the staff of strife to measure thy doingswithal? That may then seem honourable, done to an enemy, which thouwould scorn to do to one of thine own part, even if he wronged thee.'

  'Nay, mother; but I will do nothing THOU wouldst thinkdishonourable--that I promise thee. I will use what thou tellest me forno manner of hurt to my lord of Worcester or aught that is his. But Ladyis not his, and her will I carry, if I may, from Raglan stables back toRedware.'

  'I am content. Hearken then, my son. Raglan watchword for the rest ofthe month is--ST. GEORGE AND ST. PATRICK! May it stand thee in goodstead.'

  'I thank thee, mother, with all my heart,' said Richard, risingjubilant. 'Now shut up the dog, and let me go. One day it may lie in mypower to requite thee.'

  'Thou hast requited me beforehand, master Heywood. Old mother Rees neverforgets. I would have done well by thee with the maiden, an' thou wouldbut have hearkened to my words. But the day may yet come. Go now, andreturn with the last of the twilight. Come hither, Marquis.'

  The dog obeyed, and she shut him again in her chamber.