CHAPTER V.
THE HUCKSTERING WOMAN.
The huckstering woman, Tibbott by name, was tended by Queen Mary'sapothecary, and in due time was sent off well provided, to the greatfair of York, whence she returned with a basket of needles, pins (suchas they were), bodkins, and the like articles, wherewith to circulateabout Hallamshire, but the gate-wards would not relax their rules sofar as to admit her into the park. She was permitted, however, tobring her wares to the town of Sheffield, and to Bridgefield, but shemight come no farther.
Thither Antony Babington came down to lay out the crown which had beengiven to him on his birthday, and indeed half Master Sniggius'sscholars discovered needs, and came down either to spend, or to giveadvice to the happy owners of groats and testers. So far so good; butthe huckster-woman soon made Bridgefield part of her regular rounds,and took little commissions which she executed for the household ofSheffield, who were, as the Cavendish sisters often said in theirspleen, almost as much prisoners as the Queen of Scots. AntonyBabington was always her special patron, and being Humfrey's greatcompanion and playfellow, he was allowed to come in and out of thegates unquestioned, to play with him and with Cis, who no longer wentto school, but was trained at home in needlework and housewifery.
Match-making began at so early an age, that when Mistress Susan hadtwice found her and Antony Babington with their heads together over thelamentable ballad of the cold fish that had been a lady, and which sangits own history "forty thousand fathom above water," she began toquestion whether the girl were the attraction. He was now an orphan,and his wardship and marriage had been granted to the Earl, who, havingdisposed of all his daughters and stepdaughters, except BessieCavendish, might very fairly bestow on the daughter of his kinsman sogood a match as the young squire of Dethick.
"Then should we have to consider of her parentage," said Richard, whenhis wife had propounded her views.
"I never can bear in mind that the dear wench is none of ours," saidSusan. "Thou didst say thou wouldst portion her as if she were our ownlittle maid, and I have nine webs ready for her household linen. Mustwe speak of her as a stranger?"
"It would scarce be just towards another family to let them deem her oftrue Talbot blood, if she were to enter among them," said Richard;"though I look on the little merry maid as if she were mine own child.But there is no need yet to begin upon any such coil; and, indeed, Iwould wager that my lady hath other views for young Babington."
After all, parents often know very little of what passes in children'sminds, and Cis never hinted to her mother that the bond of unionbetween her and Antony was devotion to the captive Queen. Cis had onlyhad a glimpse or two of her, riding by when hunting or hawking, orwhen, on festive occasions, all who were privileged to enter the parkwere mustered together, among whom the Talbots ranked high as kindredto both Earl and Countess; but those glimpses had been enough to fillthe young heart with romance, such as the matter-of-fact elders neverguessed at. Antony Babington, who was often actually in the graciouspresence, and received occasional smiles, and even greetings, wasimmeasurably devoted to the Queen, and maintained Cicely's admirationby his vivid descriptions of the kindness, the grace, the charms of theroyal captive, in contrast with the innate vulgarity of their ownCountess.
Willie Douglas (the real Roland Graeme of the escape from Lochleven)had long ago been dismissed from Mary's train, with all the otherservants who were deemed superfluous; but Antony had heard the detailsof the story from Jean Kennedy (Mrs. Kennett, as the English werepleased to call her), and Willie was the hero of his emulativeimagination.
"What would I not do to be like him!" he fervently exclaimed when hehad narrated the story to Humfrey and Cis, as they lay on a nest in thefern one fine autumn day, resting after an expedition to gatherblackberries for the mother's preserving.
"I would not be him for anything," said Humfrey.
"Fie, Humfrey," cried Cis; "would not you dare exile or anything elsein a good cause?"
"For a good cause, ay," said Humfrey in his stolid way.
"And what can be a better cause than that of the fairest of captivequeens?" exclaimed Antony, hotly.
"I would not be a traitor," returned Humfrey, as he lay on his back,looking up through the chequerwork of the branches of the trees towardsthe sky.
"Who dares link the word traitor with my name?" said Babington, feelingfor the imaginary handle of a sword.
"Not I; but you'll get it linked if you go on in this sort."
"For shame, Humfrey," again cried Cis, passionately. "Why, deliveringimprisoned princesses always was the work of a true knight."
"Yea; but they first defied the giant openly," said Humfrey.
"What of that?" said Antony.
"They did not do it under trust," said Humfrey.
"I am not under trust," said Antony. "Your father may be a swornservant of the Earl and, the Queen--Queen Elizabeth, I mean; but I havetaken no oaths--nobody asked me if I would come here."
"No," said Humfrey, knitting his brows, "but you see we are all trustedto go in and out as we please, on the understanding that we do noughtthat can be unfaithful to the Earl; and I suppose it was thus with thissame Willie Douglas."
"She was his own true and lawful Queen," cried Cis. "His first dutywas to her."
Humfrey sat up and looked perplexed, but with a sudden thoughtexclaimed, "No Scots are we, thanks be to Heaven! and what might beloyalty in him would be rank treason in us."
"How know you that?" said Antony. "I have heard those who say that ourlawful Queen is there," and he pointed towards the walls that rose inthe distance above the woods.
Humfrey rose wrathful. "Then truly you are no better than a traitor,and a Spaniard, and a Papist," and fists were clenched on both aides,while Cis flew between, pulling down Humfrey's uplifted hand, andcrying, "No, no; he did not say he thought so, only he had heard it."
"Let him say it again!" growled Antony, his arm bared.
"No, don't, Humfrey!" as if she saw it between his clenched teeth. "Youknow you only meant if Tony thought so, and he didn't. Now how can youtwo be so foolish and unkind to me, to bring me out for a holiday toeat blackberries and make heather crowns, and then go and spoil it allwith folly about Papists, and Spaniards, and grown-up people's nonsensethat nobody cares about!"
Cis had a rare power over both her comrades, and her piteous appealactually disarmed them, since there was no one present to make themashamed of their own placability. Grown-up people's follies wereavoided by mutual consent through the rest of the walk, and the threechildren parted amicably when Antony had to return to fulfil his page'sduties at my lord's supper, and Humfrey and Cis carried home their bigbasket of blackberries.
When they entered their own hall they found their mother engaged inconversation with a tall, stout, and weather-beaten man, whom sheannounced--"See here, my children, here is a good friend of yourfather's, Master Goatley, who was his chief mate in all his voyages,and hath now come over all the way from Hull to see him! He will behere anon, sir, so soon as the guard is changed at the Queen's lodge.Meantime, here are the elder children."
Diccon, who had been kept at home by some temporary damage to his foot,and little Edward were devouring the sailor with their eyes; andHumfrey and Cis were equally delighted with the introduction,especially as Master Goatley was just returned from the Western Main,and from a curious grass-woven basket which he carried slung to hisside, produced sundry curiosities in the way of beads, shell-work,feather-work, and a hatchet of stone, and even a curious armlet ofsoft, dull gold, with pearls set in it. This he had, with greatdifficulty, obtained on purpose for Mistress Talbot, who had once curedhim of a bad festering hurt received on board ship.
The children clustered round in ecstasies of admiration and wonder asthey heard of the dark brown atives, the curious expedients by whichbarter was carried on; also of cruel Spaniards, and of savage fishes,with all the marvels of flying-fish, corals, palm-trees, hummingbirds--all that is lesson work to o
ur modern youth, but was the mostbrilliant of living fairy tales at this Elizabethan period. Humfreyand Diccon were ready to rush off to voyage that instant, and evenlittle Ned cried imitatively in his imperfect language that he would be"a tailor."
Then their father came home, and joyfully welcomed and clasped handswith his faithful mate, declaring that the sight did him good; and theysat down to supper and talked of voyages, till the boys' eyes glowed,and they beat upon their own knees with the enthusiasm that theirstrict manners bade them repress; while their mother kept back hersighs as she saw them becoming infected with that sea fever so dreadedby parents. Nay, she saw it in her husband himself. She knew him tobe grievously weary of a charge most monotonously dull, and only variedby suspicions and petty detections; and that he was hungering andthirsting for his good ship and to be facing winds and waves. Shecould hear his longing in the very sound of the "Ays?" and briefinquiries by which he encouraged Goatley to proceed in the story ofvoyages and adventures, and she could not wonder when Goatley said,"Your heart is in it still, sir. Not one of us all but says it is apity such a noble captain should be lost as a landsman, with nothing todo but to lock the door on a lady."
"Speak not of it, my good Goatley," said Richard, hastily, "or you willset me dreaming and make me mad."
"Then it is indeed so," returned Goatley. "Wherefore then come younot, sir, where a crew is waiting for you of as good fellows as everstepped on a deck, and who, one and all, are longing after such acaptain as you are, sir? Wherefore hold back while still in yourprime?"
"Ask the mistress, there," said Richard, as he saw his Susan's whiteface and trembling fingers, though she kept her eyes on her work toprevent them from betraying their tears and their wistfulness.
"O sweet father," burst forth Humfrey, "do but go, and take me. I amquite old enough."
"Nay, Humfrey, 'tis no matter of liking," said his father, not wishingto prolong his wife's suspense. "Look you here, boy, my Lord Earl iscaptain of all of his name by right of birth, and so long as he needsmy services, I have no right to take them from him. Dost see, my boy?"
Humfrey reluctantly did see. It was a great favour to be thus arguedwith, and admitted of no reply.
Mrs. Talbot's heart rejoiced, but she was not sorry that it was timefor her to carry off Diccon and Ned to their beds, away from thefascinating narrative, and she would give no respite, though Dicconpleaded hard. In fact, the danger might be the greatest to him, sinceHumfrey, though born within the smell of the sea, might be retained bythe call of duty like his father. To Cis, at least, she thought thesailor's conversation could do no harm, little foreboding the wordsthat presently ensued. "And, sir, what befell the babe we found in ourlast voyage off the Spurn? It would methinks be about the age of thispretty mistress."
Richard Talbot endeavoured to telegraph a look both of assent andwarning, but though Master Goatley would have been sharp to detect theleast token of a Spanish galleon on the most distant horizon, thesignal fell utterly short. "Ay, sir. What, is it so? Bless me! Thevery maiden! And you have bred her up for your own."
"Sir! Father!" cried Cis, looking from one to the other, with eyes andmouth wide open.
"Soh!" cried the sailor, "what have I done? I beg your pardon, sir, ifI have overhauled what should have been let alone. But," continued thehonest, but tactless man, "who could have thought of the like of that,and that the pretty maid never knew it? Ay, ay, dear heart. Neverfear but that the captain will be good father to you all the same."
For Richard Talbot had held out his arm, and, as Cis ran up to him, hehad seated her on his knee, and held her close to him. Humfreylikewise started up with an impulse to contradict, which was suddenlycut short by a strange flash of memory, so all he did was to come up tohis father, and grasp one of the girl's hands as fast as he could. Shetrembled and shivered, but there was something in the presence of thisstrange man which choked back all inquiry, and the silence, thevehement grasp, and the shuddering, alarmed the captain, lest she mightsuddenly go off into a fit upon his hands.
"This is gear for mother," said he, and taking her up like a baby,carried her off, followed closely by Humfrey. He met Susan comingdown, asking anxiously, "Is she sick?"
"I hope not, mother," he said, "but honest Goatley, thinking no harm,hath blurted out that which we had never meant her to know, at leastnot yet awhile, and it hath wrought strangely with her."
"Then it is true, father?" said Humfrey, in rather an awe-strickenvoice, while Cis still buried her face on the captain's breast.
"Yes," he said, "yea, my children, it is true that God sent us adaughter from the sea and the wreck when He had taken our own littlemaid to His rest. But we have ever loved our Cis as well, and hopeever to do so while she is our good child. Take her, mother, and tellthe children how it befell; if I go not down, the fellow will spread itall over the house, and happily none were present save Humfrey and thelittle maiden."
Susan put the child down on her own bed, and there, with Humfreystanding by, told the history of the father carrying in the littleshipwrecked babe. They both listened with eyes devouring her, but theywere as yet too young to ask questions about evidences, and Susan didnot volunteer these, only when the girl asked, "Then, have I no name?"she answered, "A godly minister, Master Heatherthwayte, gave thee thename of Cicely when he christened thee."
"I marvel who I am?" said Cis, gazing round her, as if the world wereall new to her.
"It does not matter," said Humfrey, "you are just the same to us, isshe not, mother?"
"She is our dear Heaven-sent child," said the mother tenderly.
"But thou art not my true mother, nor Humfrey nor Diccon my brethren,"she said, stretching out her hands like one in the dark.
"If I'm not your brother, Cis, I'll be your husband, and then you willhave a real right to be called Talbot. That's better than if you weremy sister, for then you would go away, I don't know where, and now youwill always be mine--mine--mine very own."
And as he gave Cis a hug in assurance of his intentions, his father,who was uneasy about the matter, looked in again, and as Susan, withtears in her eyes, pointed to the children, the good man said, "By myfaith, the boy has found the way to cut the knot--or rather to tie it.What say you, dame? If we do not get a portion for him, we do not haveto give one with her, so it is as broad as it is long, and she remainsour dear child. Only listen, children, you are both old enough to keepa secret. Not one word of all this matter is to be breathed to anysoul till I bid you."
"Not to Diccon," said Humfrey decidedly.
"Nor to Antony?" asked Cis wistfully.
"To Antony? No, indeed! What has he to do with it? Now, to yourbeds, children, and forget all about this tale."
"There, Humfrey," broke out Cis, as soon as they were alone together,"Huckstress Tibbott _is_ a wise woman, whatever thou mayest say."
"How?" said Humfrey.
"Mindst thou not the day when I crossed her hand with the tester fathergave me?"
"When mother whipped thee for listening to fortune-tellers and wastingthy substance. Ay, I mind it well," said Humfrey, "and how thou didststand simpering at her pack of lies, ere mother made thee sing anothertune."
"Nay, Humfrey, they were no lies, though I thought them so then. Shesaid I was not what I seemed, and that the Talbots' kennel would notalways hold one of the noble northern eagles. So Humfrey, sweetHumfrey, thou must not make too sure of wedding me."
"I'll wed thee though all the lying old gipsy-wives in England woretheir false throats out in screeching out that I shall not," criedHumfrey.
"But she must have known," said Cis, in an awestruck voice; "thespirits must have spoken with her, and said that I am none of theTalbots."
"Hath mother heard this?" asked Humfrey, recoiling a little, but neverthinking of the more plausible explanation.
"Oh no, no! tell her not, Humfrey, tell her not. She said she wouldwhip me again if ever I talked again of the follies that thefortune-telling woma
n had gulled me with, for if they were not deceits,they were worse. And, thou seest, they are worse, Humfrey!"
With which awe-stricken conclusion the children went off to bed.
Unknown to History: A Story of the Captivity of Mary of Scotland Page 5
